#Also me: *continuously walks around my living room for over an hour*

[aquitainequeen]

[pretty-little-mind33]

dbf Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: Your dad sends Logan over to help you build some furniture in your new apartment, unaware you'll end up with Logan's head in between your thighs.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: swearing, mean!logan, dom!logan, sub!reader, possessive!reader, fictional age gap (reader is early twenties), praise, degradation, unprotected sex, mentions of not being on the pill, oral sex (f and m receiving), power dynamics, kinda dubious consent in the beginning but not really lol, sweet aftercare

~ i have no clue what i'm doing with his character 🥲 be kind pls ~

LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

"No that's what I told him," you chuckle, holding your phone to your ear as you struggle to open one of your moving boxes with the scissors in your other hand. Your friend on the other line returns your chuckle and continues to ask her nosey questions. 

You're interrupted by a sharp knock. "One second, my dad's here! He's helping me move some of my furniture around and also assemble them—" you say and leap over some other moving boxes to your front door. 

"Hi Da–" you exclaim, holding the door open only your voice suddenly becomes stuck in your throat when you see that this certainly isn't your dad. Your eyes round and your hand falters on your phone. The man before you is one of your dad's closest friends.

"Logan," you whisper, which earns a questioning remark from your friend in your ear and you press your hand over your phone's microphone.

Logan pulls his dangling cigar from his mouth, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips and heading for you. You cough and he smirks. He's towering over you, dressed in a casual pair of dark denim jeans, a thick gold-trimmed belt, and a white tank top that accentuates his muscles. You look away in an attempt to ignore that familiar stirring in your stomach.

"Your Daddy sent me." Logan's voice is hoarse as he looks you over. You feel exposed in the baggy shirt and tiny shorts you're dressed in. "I was in around anyways and he mentioned you needed someone's help with some furniture," he peers in behind you at the mess you'd made of your new apartment.

"Mm. Came round' to help a lady out—" he reaches over and hangs up your phone for you. He shakes it and smirks, "Rude to be on the phone when you have visitors, honey." 

You stare at Logan again, taking him in. Your stomach fills with familiar butterflies from your schoolgirl crush but if your dad trusts Logan, you should too. "That's very kind," you say honestly and let him inside, taking your phone and setting it on the counter. You pull up your shirt to cover more of your shoulder and curse your choice to go braless this morning. 

You point to all the boxes and the array of furniture in the living room as you walk. "Well, this is all of it," you say and turn to him, watching as his knuckles flex.

Logan hums as he looks around and then down at you. "Now why don't you fetch me a cold beer, sweet girl, so that I can start on this," he moves an Ikea box with his foot, "pink vanity," he smirks. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks but don't argue with him as you walk to the kitchen. You aren't gone for long as you come back with his beer. Logan stands directly in front of you, a screwdriver in his palm.

His lips curl upwards and you pray he hadn't heard you. "D'you have any more screws, honey?" he asks you simply, tilting his head.

You nod, looking through a drawer to find him some more screws.

Overall, it takes Logan only two hours to set up your vanity, desk, and some other shelves as well as move your furniture around just how you want it. You're sitting curled up on your couch, trying so hard not to stare at Logan's arms as he wipes some sweat from his brow, and finishes the last touch-ups on some of your shelves. 

"Shit," you suddenly jump up, "I'm late! It's Cam's house-warming party! I-" you're interrupted by a strong hand suddenly wrapping around your arm, causing a shiver up your spine, and your breath hitches when Logan roughly pulls you into him.

"Is that all?" he whispers, his lips near your ear, and you whimper. That only makes Logan tighten his hold as he leans down, his face in your hair as he inhales your scent and chuckles darkly, "I come here on my own time, to help you and you don't have the decency to say a simple thank you? Tsk, how disappointing."

"T-thank you," you say instantly, squirming as your cheeks warm and your heart pounds in your chest. You feel him pressed up behind you as he keeps you still. It's intoxicating and you're slightly scared. 

He knows it too. He can smell it on you.

Logan spins you around, his hand coming up to your cheek as he looks you over. 

"Has your dad never taught you any manners?" he asks calmly as he observes your reaction to his words. You feel small under his gaze. Logan looks so intimidating now as his hands find your hair and he pulls it back, smirking when you whine in pain. 

"No," he hums, "you're not leaving this apartment yet. Someone has to teach you a lesson in respect, you fuckin' brat." 

Your heart is pounding, staring at him with those round glossy eyes he loves so much. You feel your arousal pool in your stomach and shame consumes you. Logan's lips curl cruelly and he shifts closer, his body pressed to yours as his other hand crushes the sides of your mouth as he sees the tears stream down your cheeks. "You look much fuckin' prettier like this—with your eyes all glossy and dumb," he smirks and continues, "Now why don't you sit down like a good girl and tell me exactly how much cock you've taken." 

Logan drops your jaw and pulls out a chair for himself as you sink onto the couch again. He straddles the chair from behind, crossing his arms, and fakes a pout as he leans his chin on his forearm. "I wonder just how much can your pussy take, huh? Six inches? Seven?"

It feels mean. "Why are you doing this?" you ask, shrinking into the cushions. 

Logan smiles. "Because I can, and I want to," he shrugs, "And I think you want this too. No, I know you want this too."

"I don't want this, whatever this is! I'm telling my dad—" 

Logan chuckles darkly, "Your threats don't scare me," he tilts his head, "and do you know why, honey?" 

You glare at him, refusing to shake your head so he continues, "Because I know your cunt is dripping right now, am I right? I can fucking smell you from here," His words travel to your core and you squeeze your thighs on instinct. Logan sees this motion and smirks, "You can pretend all you want, but I know that look in your eyes. I've seen it enough times to know you're just like all the other girls; horny and desperate."

You feel overwhelmed as his words make you feel so good, your chest heaves as you watch him. Logan stands, smirking as he walks over and unbuckles his belt. He wastes no time, making a clicking sound to indicate that he wants you to unzip him. You just continue to stare at him, unable to wrap your head around that this is happening. 

"Hurry up, sweet girl, I don't have all damn day. Thank me properly."

"Logan—"

"Don't you pull the virgin bullshit, Y/n. I know you've been fucked. You're too much of fucking dirty slut not to have had someone's dick inside you," he chuckles deeply and earns a small whimper from you as embarrassment settles in your stomach. "Now make me feel good."

You sink to your knees, eyes still glossy as you fumble with his zipper. As much as you wish this wasn't hot to you, your pussy is screaming at you that she needs Logan. Logan seems to know because he smiles. 

"Your poor cunt needs me, huh?" he teases and takes himself out of his pants, stroking himself as pre-cum beads at his tip. "I'll reward her if you're good for me."

You lean forwards and he smears his cum on your lips, enjoying the look of you on your knees for him as you service him. He's impressive and every time he pushes into your throat, you cough a little and pull away, your eyes becoming watery. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper after a while, succumbing to him just like he wants as your voice quivers. 

Logan pets your hair, soothing his large thumb across your forehead. "Shhh, my sweet girl, I'll take care of you." 

And he means it because he wastes no time in having you sprawled across your new couch, legs spread wide as his tongue flicks across your clit, lifting the hood. He's enjoying the way you wail behind your hands, tightening your thighs around his head. He pushes your thighs apart, bruising them to his liking as he laps at your cunt. 

"L-Logan," you whimper, your eyes rolling back in your head. You need him. "Please," you say and attempt to sit up, your makeup smudged from his rough kissing and your hair a mess. Your mouth tastes like Logan's cum and your pussy is aching for his cock inside it.

"Fuck, you're such a mess," Logan smirks, licking your juices from his lips. "Thank me again."

"Thank you for helping me," you whine, arching up. "Please, need you."

Logan stands and strokes himself again, caging you in with his muscular arms and the tip of his cock glides over your clit and then your entrance. You mewl, nails gripping his arms as you cry from both the overstimulation and also the restraint he's shown. 

He grunts as he pushes inside, going inch by inch so you can feel all of him. He peppers kisses across your jaw andwhispers sweet nothings into your ear. You're a whiny mess, drool falling from your lips as your mouth is perpetually open as you moan, feeling the delicious stretch of Logan's cock.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

"Your Daddy will kill me, honey," he whispers as he kisses behind your ear, his thrusts starting slow and precise. "Defiling his baby girl like this—fucking her perfect cunt," he grins, "only you aren't his baby girl anymore, hm? You're mine. All mine." He sinks his teeth into your neck, grinning as he marks you.   

"Mhm, yes, I'm yours, all yours."

Logan's thrusts become deeper and harsher. "Fucked the brat right out of you."

His kisses continue as he's fucking you roughly, enjoying the sound of your small whines because he knows he's making you feel so good. Finally, you come around him and wrap your arms around him, tears staining your cheeks as you tremble. Logan follows, emptying himself inside you. 

"I'm not on the pill," you sniffle, too hazy to truly think of the consequences. 

Logan can't help the way his heart leaps with excitement at this information but he pushes it down. He can't do that to you. Not now at least.

He pulls out, thinking of the mess you'd both made later as he kisses your lips. He's tender this time and he strokes his hand in your hair again. "I'm going to run to the store and get you a plan B, m'okay?"

He sees how fucked out you look and he grins, caressing his knuckles down the apples of your soft cheeks. "My sweet girl, look at you, so messy."

You frown, eyes droopy. "It's your fault," you whine. 

Logan chuckles deeply and removes himself from on top of you, picking you up effortlessly in his arms. "I know, sweet girl, I know. You made your bed, hm?" he whispers and you snuggle instinctively in his arms. You nod. He kisses your forehead again, his body relaxing with yours.

"I'm going to take care of you now, honey—" he promises, "—you're mine. All mine."

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[puckinghischier]

Fakers

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader needs jack to be her fake boyfriend, and it leads to something very not fake

notes: hello!! it’s literally 2am and i just finished this, so needless to say it’s unedited, but i love this fic so much. i combined two different requests for it and i had so much fun with it. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

also i’m starting a tag list in the comments, so let me know if you’d like to be added!! 🫡

request: from my 400 follower celly - You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off your back” & “A realizing that they have feelings for B when they see them with someone else”

[5.4k]

“Jack! Please tell me you’re home. It’s an emergency!” you frantically slam his apartment door shut.

Searching the large space for any signs of life, you beg for him to be home.

“Jack! C’mon! It’s urgent!” you yell out, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

You twist the knob of the closed door, finding it locked. Huffing, you start beating your fist against the wood.

“Open up! I know you’re in there!”

You continue your assault on the door, stopping only when the door opens and your fist meets air. You step back in surprise, nearly hitting Jack square in his bare chest.

A soaking wet, shirtless Jack stands in front of you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“God, what took you so long? I texted you SOS on my way over here,” you barreled past him, walking into his bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not like I just had a grueling three-hour practice or anything. God forbid I take a hot shower afterwards,” Jack throws his hands up in the air, watching you walk straight for his closet.

You and jack had been friends since the second you moved to Jersey, the sassy brunette being just what you needed to make you feel at home in the unfamiliar state.

As you were moving in down the hall, Jack had half of the team over at his apartment watching game film in preparation for a week of road games.

Him and few teammates walked out into the hallway to investigate the loud bangs they kept hearing, watching you try to squeeze a bookshelf into your apartment that was three times the size of the doorway.

An hour later you had a disassembled bookshelf and four very attractive men in your living room.

Jack had recruited some of his teammates, as you later learned, to help you put the bookshelf back together.

You apologized for interrupting their plans, the rest of Jack’s teammates still in his apartment, and insisted they go back to their friends. You told them you could handle putting back together a bookshelf, even though you had absolutely no idea what you were doing.

They waved off your concerns, telling you they needed to help you finish what they started.

After the bookshelf was put together and in place, Jack invited you over to his apartment, deciding they had watched enough film for that night, using the incentive of pizza to lure you. You would’ve objected, seeing as he invited you into an apartment full of strange men, but the pang of hunger in your stomach threw all caution to the wind, leading your feet three doors down and into the strange apartment.

You gained a whole group of friends that night, not knowing until a week later your new friends were Jersey’s own professional hockey team.

Jack and Luke helped you finish the rest of your move in, spending more and more time with your new neighbors as the days went on. You added weekly take out dinners into your schedules and alternating hockey watch parties in each other’s apartments, the brothers insisting you need to learn to love the game.

You can’t deny the fact that you started developing feelings for the middle Hughes pretty quickly, his fun energy and magnetic personality roping you in. The nature of your friendship was extremely laid back, the two of you bickering nearly as much as you made the other laugh. Luke often said the two of you either act like an old married couple or newlyweds that already resent each other.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out, however, that Jack was too focused on living the hockey lifestyle to settle down anytime soon. You noticed the flow of girls in and out of his apartment, having met a few on their way out in the mornings on your way to work.

Attempting to push your feelings to the back of your mind, you continued spending time with the rowdy athletes. A small part of you still held out hope, especially after Jack gave you a key to their apartment, telling you he was tired of having to get the door every time you decided you wanted to come over.

Which is exactly how you were able to enter his apartment now, in your desperate time of need.

You knew your parents were going to visit you once you had settled in. The piece of information they left out, though, was that they scheduled a dinner with the lawyer son of one of your dad’s coworkers that also happens to live in the city.

Now, sifting through his closet in search of an outfit appropriate for the high-end restaurant your parents reserved for tonight, you worry about Jack’s reaction to your – and now his – predicament.

“Jack, don’t you own anything that isn’t designer? I don’t want my parents to think you’re a douche throwing his money in everyone’s face,” you slide each Tom Ford, Armani, and his one Gucci suit to the side.

Jack, still standing with his hand on his open door, starts walking over to you, crossing his arms.

“So, you not only barge into my apartment unexpectedly and interrupt my shower, but you’re now criticizing my formal wear?” he asks before realization shows on his face. “Wait, what do you mean your parents? And why are you so dressed up?” he suddenly notices your floor-length, black formal dress and full face of make-up.

You turn to face him slowly, an overexaggerated, nervous smile on your face.

“Well…you’re…meetingmyparentstonight,” you mumble out, running your words together.

“Run that back one more time?” Jack asks you, eyes widening.

“You’re meeting my parents tonight,” you say at a normal pace this time, doing small jazz hands.

Groaning, Jack turns away from you, placing his hands on the top of his head as he paces.

“What did you do?” he asks, still pacing, knowing how you are and that you’re only ever this anxious about stuff when there’s a reason.

“Okay, so don’t get mad,” you start, placing your hands out in front of you as if you’re calming down a wild animal.

“Oh, great, that’s always followed by good news,” Jack rolls his eyes, stopping to stand in front of you.

“I might have, maybe, just a little bit…told my parents that you were my boyfriend,” you rush out again, closing your eyes and wincing.

Jack doesn’t respond, not making a single sound. You slowly open one eye, waiting for him to start scolding you. You see him standing there, wide eyes and frozen.

“You told…parents…your boyfriend?” his broken sentence amuses you, but you have to hold in the laugh, figuring laughing at him wouldn’t do you any favors right now.

“Yes,” you confirm, causing Jack to close his eyes and inhale, his hand flying up to press against his forehead. “But! They’re trying to set me up on a blind date with one of my dad’s stuck-up coworker’s sons. You know I told them I’d never date a lawyer,” you explain, stepping closer to Jack, testing the waters. “Plus, I hate being set up, Jack. One of my dating requirements is friends first, date later.”

“Why?” Jack now pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why in the hell would you tell your parents I’m your boyfriend? I haven’t dated in someone in…I don’t know, three years? This should’ve been a Luke job.”

“Because you’re my best friend. It wouldn’t have been believable with Luke because I don’t know him as well as I know you,” you tell him, watching him open his mouth to argue. “Plus, you owe me.”

Jack scoffs. “Oh, I owe you, huh? Do tell, what for?”

“When I bought your sushi last week because you forgot your wallet at the rink when I met you out for lunch.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Are you serious? I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back!”

“But…a day of pretending to be my boyfriend can pay your $20 debt,” you smile and tilt your head, batting your eyelashes.

Jack mulls the idea over in his head for a few moments, deciding on if he’s going to help you or not. You continue batting your eyelashes and giving Jack your trademark puppy dog eyes.

“Fine…give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready,” he grumbles, shoulders deflating a little.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squeal, doing a happy jump and running over to hug him.

You realize a second too late he’s still damp and very naked, jumping back and apologizing mere seconds after you made contact with his bare skin.

“I’ll go wait in your living room,” you say, turning and heading towards his door.

“I’m wearing the Gucci, by the way,” he calls out as you reach the doorway.

“Please, at least wear the Armani so they think you’re poor rich, not rich rich,” you hear him laugh as you shut his door.

Just as Jack told you, twenty minutes later you’re in his car on the way to some rooftop restaurant your parents reserved for your ‘family’ dinner.

“So, what’s our story?” Jack asks, breaking the silence.

“Our story?” you repeat, confused.

“Yeah, our story. Like, what was the magical moment we realized we were actually more than friends and were head over heels with one another?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You look over at him, a small smirk on his lips.

“Do you seriously think I went into that much detail when I stuttered out ‘oh…I uhh…forgot to tell you, Jack and I are dating now!’ when my mother mentioned Ben was joining us for dinner?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

You scoff at him, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms.

“We don’t have a story. Mom didn’t ask questions so I didn’t offer any,” you respond, looking over at him.

“Wait, she didn’t ask any questions? What was her response?” he asked you, glancing over at you every few seconds.

“No? She just said it was great and to invite you to dinner too, maybe you and Ben would get along,” Jack’s furrowed brow confusing you.

“Shit, Y/N, she doesn’t believe you,” he sits up straight.

“She doesn’t?”

“No, she doesn’t. If she believed you then she would have told Ben not to come. If she believed you, she would have grilled you with questions and squealed with excitement. She wouldn’t have just accepted the answer and told you to bring me along like some pet,” you note the worry in his tone.

Thinking about your mother’s reaction, you remember the uninterested tone she used when telling you how great it was you were with Jack. The lack of enthusiasm definitely uncharacteristic from your mom. You had just assumed she was shocked, not that she didn’t believe you.

“Holy shit you’re right! She didn’t believe me. What are we gonna do?” you reach down the hand resting in your lap and start picking your thumb nail on again, extremely worried they’ll see through your bullshit the second you sit down at the table.

Jack notices the anxious habit of yours, reaching over and placing his hand over your own, effectively stopping your movements.

“We give them the best damn performance of our lives.”

———————————————————————————

As soon as you walk onto the open rooftop, you think you should’ve let Jack wear his Gucci suit.

The dimly lit space is full of people in expensive looking dresses and crisp, clean suits.

You suddenly feel very underdressed.

The hostess leads you over to a table in the corner, you and Jack being the last to arrive.

Jack’s hand is held tightly in yours, the small pep talk he gave you in the elevator already forgotten.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” you hear your mother’s voice as you approach the table, breaking you out of your wardrobe anxieties.

You give a tight-lipped smile, keeping yourself pressed against Jack’s side.

“Well, don’t just stand there, give me a hug!” she exclaims, standing from her seat, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You reciprocate her actions, placing your hands on her back.

“Honey, you look so good. I hope this place has been kind to you,” she places her hands on your face, a smile beaming back at you.

You nod at her. “Yeah, I love it here so far.”

She lets you go, her smile never fading.

“Alright, where’s the hug for your old man?” you hear your dad speak from somewhere behind you, turning to see him walking towards you with open arms.

Sinking into his hug, you let yourself enjoy the feeling. Getting to spend time with your dad is a rarity, considering he’s part of a big law-firm back home. He was always working late and missing holidays when you were a kid, your experience with him why you always swore you’d never marry a lawyer like your mother did.

“I missed you, Dad,” you tell him honestly, pulling back from his embrace.

“I missed you more, kiddo,” he pats your cheek, stepping away to take his seat at the table once again.

You hear Jack clear his throat behind you, reminding him that you need to introduce him.

“Oh! Mom, Dad,” you turn back and reach your hand out towards Jack, “this is Jack, the neighbor I’ve been telling you about.” Jack squeezes you hand, reminding you he’s your boyfriend tonight, not your neighbor. “Well…I guess I need to introduce him as my boyfriend now, cause we’re dating!” you say a little too enthusiastically, lifting your intertwined hands for everyone to see.

Jack chuckles, bringing his free hand over to push your joined hands down.

“Hi, I’m Jack, Y/N’s neighbor boyfriend,” he reaches over to shake your dad’s hand.

You notice your mom’s skeptical smile, standing to give Jack a short, half hug.

As you scan the area, trying to find anything else to focus on other than your lack of being able to play it cool, you notice the third body at the table.

You look at the man, his jet black, scruffy hair not at all what you were expecting. He was extremely handsome, you had to give him that. His blue eyes stood out against the dark setting, his black dress shirt under his black suit jacket causing them to stand out even more.

“Well, since introductions are being made, this is Ben, Jim’s boy. He works at a firm just a few miles away, actually,” your dad beams as Ben stands, walking around the table to give Jack’s hand a firm shake.

They exchange a short greeting before Ben makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking you by surprise.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he trails off, keeping eye contact as he raises back up into a standing position. “Both of you,” he adds as an afterthought, letting go of your hand and glancing at Jack.

“Yeah…you too,” Jack’s tone is laced with an emotion you can’t quite pick up on, but the glare he’s sending Ben is extremely noticeable.

As everyone takes their seats again, Jack scoots your chair out for you before sitting in the chair beside of you, taking your hand in his and resting them on the table.

Small talk is exchanged about Jack’s job, a disapproving nod from your father, your mother asking questions about what he plans to do after his career is over, making sure to throw in digs about how young hockey players are required to retire and the fact that contract money runs out fast with the lifestyle athletes live.

Jack handles them in stride, talking about how he wants to get into coaching once his career comes to an end, but he wants to play hockey for as long as he’s physically able. He also informed your parents that his mother instilled in him how to budget, making sure his necessities are always paid before anything else gets purchased, including a retirement fund.

The conversation then shifts to you and your new job, your mother filling Ben in with side comments the whole time about how you graduated with honors and was offered a big city job right out of college. Ben looked at you the entire time you were talking, seeming genuinely interested in what you were sharing.

Once the conversation shifts to Ben, that’s when the dinner starts going south.

“Ben is in line to become a partner at his firm very soon. It’s all his father talks about at work anymore,” your dad informs the table, laughing and slapping a hand to Ben’s shoulder.

“Well, there’s a few other guys in the running, I’m not a shoo-in yet,” Ben responds, trying to knock down his praise a bit.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Ben, our Y/N here loves an overachiever, isn’t that right, darling?” your mom looks over to you.

You don’t know what to say to her, stunned that she would be so blatantly obvious about her intentions in front of Ben like this.

“I…well…Yeah, I guess,” you stutter out, not sure how to respond to your mother’s words.

“Do you excel in your field, Jack?” your mom questions your fake boyfriend of the night.

He looks up from his food, not entirely sure how to handle the question. Does he tell them the truth and risk sounding like a gloating asshole, or does he play the modest card and confirm your parent’s suspicions that he’s less than?

“Jack was team captain of team USA! And he’s an alternate captain for the Devils now! He’s also one of the team’s top point scorers,” you ramble out facts about Jack’s hockey career, sensing his hesitation.

Your father’s brows shoot up in surprise.

“Way to go man, sounds awesome,” Ben sounds genuinely impressed.

“That’s something to be proud of,” is all your mother responds.

You look over at Jack in apology, the flush of his cheeks hidden by the dark surroundings.

“Jack was also drafted number one overall in the NHL draft when he was only eighteen. Isn’t that crazy?” you continue, not knowing how to stop the information rolling from your mouth.

“Good for you, son,” your dad says through chewing his food, earning a glare from your mother.

Jack chuckles out a thanks, kicking your foot under the table.

“Always my biggest fan, huh babe?” Jack looks over at you, the look in his eyes telling you to stop, you’re being obvious again.

“Well…it’s not just your good looks that won me over,” you attempt a joke, but it didn’t land very well.

Jack winces at how that sounded.

Realizing what you just said, with the current scrutiny surrounding Jack’s choice of career, you mentally palm your forehead.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me,” you all but run away from the table.

You make your way to the small bathroom, collecting yourself and telling yourself you don’t have that long left of this torturous dinner.

When you exit the bathroom, you see Ben standing there, waiting for you to come out.

“So…is now a good time to tell you that I know you and Jack aren’t dating?” he asks you, an amused smile on his face.

Your body turns cold, every muscle frozen in place. How does he know? Has your act really been that bad?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell him, laughing nervously.

“Listen, you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m not here because I want to be set up with you. I’m here because I need my dad to still think I’m single,” he surprises you.

“Wait, you have a girlfriend?” you ask him, shock evident in your voice.

“Boyfriend, actually. But haven’t really broke that part to my parents yet.”

Your jaw drops, not believing that your parents are unknowingly trying to set you up with a gay man.

“Holy shit,” you start laughing, unable to hide stop your hand from shooting out to grip Ben’s arm. “I promise I’m not laughing because you’re gay. I’m laughing because my parents would die if they figured out the man they’re trying to set me up doesn’t even like girls.” You want to go over there and scream this piece of information into their faces, but know it’s not your place to out Ben.

“I hate when they try to set me up with people, and I thought it would stop since I moved away, but when they told me you were coming to dinner tonight I panicked and told them I was dating Jack because I didn’t want to have to dodge phone calls and ignore texts, again,” you bring your hand up to wipe the tears out of your eyes. “Who would’ve thought I didn’t even have to worry about it because there’s more of a chance you’d be attracted to my fake boyfriend than me.”

Ben laughs with you, allowing you to lean against him.

From the dinner table, Jack can hear your laughter, turning his head to see you leaning on Ben, the two of you being entirely too close for his liking.

“Well, looks like they’re getting along,” your mother tells your father, nodding her head in the direction of you and Ben.

Jack fully turns in his seat, watching how you talk animatedly with Ben, a large grin on your face as he returns it, looking down at you.

Something wicked swirls in Jack’s stomach, not enjoying watching you laugh with someone like you laugh with him.

He thinks back to all the times you’ve been around his apartment, complaining about the latest guy you were trying to meet up with canceling on you and how angry it makes him to see you upset. He thinks about how you always complain to him about dating apps, wishing you could just meet someone naturally, going on and on about having a ‘meet cute’ like your favorite rom coms and wondering why it always makes him think about how cute you looked trying to shove that big ass bookshelf into your apartment. He thinks about the time you brought a date to one of his games, the satisfaction of seeing you in his jersey almost enough to outweigh the sudden burst of anger he felt in the middle of the game, looking up to see his arm around your shoulders, hand resting a little too close to your chest for his comfort.

He thinks about how he’s always fending off his teammates and random men at bars, not trusting their intentions with you. And the looks that he catches Luke giving the two of you when you’re arguing, his favorite activity being getting you worked up, loving how red your ears get when he keeps firing sarcasm back at your anger.

He always assumed these feelings were a general protectiveness of you and enjoyment of being around you, almost like you were his sister, never once entertaining the idea that they could be more than that.

Until now, that is. Until you’re standing there in that dress, possibly the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, leaning all over another man when you asked him to come here with you. You asked him to be your fake boyfriend, not Mr. Big Time Lawyer.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure my girlfriend is okay,” he tells your parents, dropping his cloth napkin on the table and scooting his chair back.

You’re still laughing with Ben, exchanging stories about the different set-ups your parents have tried on the two of you.

“You know, even though it’s very obvious you’re not dating, I do have to admit, I can see the feelings you two have for each other,” Ben tells you, changing the subject.

“Oh, no, we’re just friends,” you tell him, your cheeks flushing a bit.

Ben gives you a look, rolling his eyes. “Honey, anyone within a three-mile radius can see that that boy is smitten with you, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

You look over at Jack who’s looking over at you and Ben.

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head, deciding you can trust Ben. “I mean, I definitely have feelings for him, have for a while, but he’s not the dating type,” you laugh. “Hell, he was worried about having to be my fake boyfriend, considering he hasn’t dated anyone in years. Anyways, the girls I see leaving his apartment most mornings says otherwise.”

“Haven’t you learned men are stupid? Someone usually has to tell them what they’re feeling. Show them what they’re missing out on,” he steps closer to you, the two of you only inches apart now. “Just like right now.”

You cock your head, confused at Ben’s words until you hear footsteps stomping towards you.

“Y/N, babe,” Jack spits out, anger radiating off of him, “can we go somewhere…private to talk?” he puts on a tight smile, watching Ben step back away from you.

“Uh, sure,” you tell him as he grabs your arm, gently leading you over to a secluded corner of the rooftop.

He stands in front of you, running his hands up his face before sweeping them through his hair.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, jutting his hand out in the direction you just came from.

“We were just-“

“You were ‘just’ flirting with the man your parents are trying to set you up with in front of their eyes when you brought me here to show them you’re not interested,” he interrupts you, frustration clear in his tone.

“Jack, you don’t understand, Ben is-“

“Perfect for you? Handsome? Your parent’s dream man for you? Better than me?” he cuts you off, his last statement taking you by surprise.

“Jack, where’s this coming from? Ben’s not better than you? What would ever make you think that?” your confusion turns to concern.

“Oh, don’t act all sad and worried now. Not when you were over here getting all close to Ben,” he waves his hands around, disgust lacing his voice as he said Ben’s name, “just mere seconds ago while I was sitting at the table with your parents, watching the whole thing and thinking about how much I love you!” he raises his voice, but not loud enough to disturb the people dining around you.

You’re so shocked at Jack’s words that you step back from him, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Jack, I-“ you start once more, but Jack’s voice cuts you off.

“I know I’m realizing this way too late, but dammit, Y/N, that man,” he points over to Ben, “is not the guy for you. I know I’ve just stood by and watched you try to go on date after date after date with men who weren’t right for you, but I think I was too scared to think about what my feelings meant. I’ve ran off so many men at bars its not even funny. Hell, I’ve told my own teammates you’re off limits, thinking I was just protecting you from getting hurt. But really, all I was doing was being selfish. I was keeping you all to myself while bringing random girls home every couple of nights after having drinks, only to kick them out first thing in the morning when I woke up and had a nasty feeling in my chest,” he pauses, his tone turning from stern to soft as he takes a step towards you.

“I’m realizing that feeling was disgust. Disgust at myself for filling my time with girls that don’t matter, girls that I would never be satisfied with because they weren’t you. I think part of me knew from the second I saw this crazy woman at the end of the hall, trying to push a bookshelf that had to outweigh her by at least a hundred pounds, through the tiny ass door of her apartment. It was confirmed when you agreed to come to my apartment and ate pizza while goofing off with my teammates, instantly clicking with every single one of them. It settled a little deeper when you showed up at my door after I had gotten home from being on the road, demanding we watch Quinn’s hockey game because it was time for you to study hockey. It was made permanent when you showed up to your first Devils game, my name and number on your back, eyes lit up in awe like it was Christmas morning,” he continues, causing tears to sting your eyes as he reaches over to cup your face in his hands.

“I ignored it for all of this time, because I think, deep down, I was scared of losing you. I was scared that you were going to see me as this dumb, jock hockey player that lived down the hall from you and let me down easy. I was scared you’d see how absolutely out of my league you are. I was scared to be vulnerable and admit that I was in love with you, because I couldn’t bear to think that you didn’t love me back,” his face is mere inches from yours. “But I’m tired of ignoring it. Seeing you, laughing with Ben, all pressed up against him like that, thinking that I might have already lost you before I even had the chance to have you, made me realize that I had to try. I had to at least…try,” he finishes, resting his forehead against yours.

The tears are fully streaming down your face at this point, not caring that you’re likely ruining the mascara you spent over fifteen minutes perfecting earlier.

“Jack, you stupid man, just kiss me already,” you whisper out, your breath fanning across his lips.

He smiles, lifting your chin up to press your lips together, sighing happily into the kiss.

You match his smile, making the kiss silly and sloppy, but you don’t care. His lips feel like they were made to fit in-between yours, the softness of them far better than you had imagined.

Pulling back from the kiss, you bring your hands up to rest on his wrists, his hands still holding your face.

“You know, if you had let me speak, I would have saved you the speech and informed you that Ben wasn’t trying to make a move on me, because Ben is gay and has a boyfriend,” Jack pulls back from you, allowing you to see the shocked expression on his face. “We were bonding over the amount of times our parents have tried to set us up with people just like this before, and then he was telling me how in love with each other we were. I was telling him how I definitely was in love with you, but I didn’t believe you were in love with me,” you laugh at Jack, the situation comical now.

“I- he’s gay?” is all Jack responds with.

You throw your head back, laughing at him. “That’s what you took away from what I just said?”

“Sorry, I just, wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he says, moving his hands to your neck, pushing your head back up to look at him.

“Oh, so you were expecting my love confession, then?” you tease him.

“Well, duh, you did ask me to be your fake boyfriend tonight,” Jack moves his hand to pinch your cheek.

“So…are you still? Fake, that is?” you ask him, placing your arms on his shoulders, clasping your hands around the back of his neck.

Jack looks down at you, the expression on his face something entirely new to you, but it’s one you can surely get used to.

“Ehh, I don’t know…ask me again the next time you need a buffer,” he shrugs, smirking at you.

You tug on a piece of his hair, causing him to hiss out.

“Geez, I’m kidding. Of course I’m your real boyfriend now. I gave you a monologue, we’re basically engaged at this point,” he jerks his head a bit, making your hands fall from his hair.

You know it’s a joke, but your cheeks heat at the implication anyways, Jack noticing your lack of response.

“Relax, I was just kidding. That’s at least three more surprise blind date dinners with your parents before we to that. I’ll even pull out a ‘fake’ ring and everything,” he winks, putting air quotes around the word fake.

As Jack enjoys the sound of your laugh, he steals a glance over at the table where your parents sit, surprised at the pleased look on your mom’s face and earning a slight nod from your dad.

He looks back down at you, face scrunched in laughter, thinking about how this night was worth way more than $20.

[coldfanbou]

Stepmom's Uniform

Naughty Step Mom Nayeon tries to please her stepson in this fic. A little rough sex and stepcest that Nayeon just can't resist.

Length 2.1K

Nayeon X Mreader

Your relationship with your stepmom was odd, to say the least. With your father having to spend so many late nights at the office and barely being able to spend a couple of hours at home each day, you were left alone with your stepmother, Nayeon. It was only natural that you got closer to her over the months. Sleeping with her was something else, though. Usually, during the day, you spend time with her outdoors. Today, you were strolling through the city with Nayeon; you passed by your old high school. She points to it, “I remember when I had to wear a school uniform. I looked so nerdy back then. Maybe I’ll wear it for you one day.” You continue your walk, stopping at a nearby cafe to sit down. You and Nayeon chat for some time before you change the topic.

You bring the topic back to the school uniform, “Do you still have your old school uniform?” 

Nayeon looks at you, a little surprised you brought that up. She fixes her hair behind her ears and nods, “Yeah, if you really want to, I could wear it for you.” She gives you a nervous smile. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to.”

You place your hand over hers. “I want to see you in it.” You run your fingers up Nayeon’s arms and get closer to her. “I could be your teacher, and you’re my submissive little student.” Nayeon felt chills run down her spine. Her smile grew more prominent, and she nodded. The idea excited her, and she imagined herself being taken by you. The two of you quickly got up and walked back home, discussing the idea. You got home, and Nayeon instantly rushed to her and your father’s bedroom. She searched for her old uniform, knowing she kept it in a suitcase filled with old clothes. She looked through it all, finding her old uniform at the bottom of the suitcase. She headed to the connecting bathroom, stripping out of her clothes and underwear. She wore the uniform, staring in the mirror as she lifted her skirt. The lack of panties turned her on. Nayeon also knew you’d be able to tell once she sat on your lap. She left the bathroom, grabbed her glasses to complete the look, and returned to the living room. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” You tell her, grabbing her waist and pulling her in close. “You’re so cute.”

“Stop it. Do I really?” Nayeon asks, her cheeks turning red. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot too.” You kiss Nayeon’s neck before whispering, “You know, considering I know what your body looks like under it.”

Nayeon wraps her arms loosely around your neck, “You’re such a bad boy, getting off on your step-mom wearing her old uniform.”

“You’re a bad step-mom, tempting me with it.” You say as you move your hands lower and grab her ass, noticing the lack of panties. “Oh, you’re so bad, Mommy,” Nayeon smirks at you and inches forward, pressing her lips against yours. You move your hands a little lower and lift Nayeon; you press her against the walls, snaking your tongue into her mouth. Nayeon moans into the kiss as she feels your bulge rub against her slit. 

“You’re so hard, baby.”

“Hard for you, Mommy.” You reply, knowing that was what got her off. The taboo of fucking her stepson was her turn-on. After the first time, she struggled to keep her hands off you, and every time you called her mommy, it only fueled her lust. Nayeon held your head in her hands as she continued the kiss, your tongues rubbing against each other until you ran out of breath. “You’re a naughty student and a naughty mommy.” You whisper into her ear before leaving a trail of kisses along her neck. “I want you to suck me off.”

“Of course, baby. Just put me down.” Nayeon said in her sultry voice. You lower Nayeon, letting her get onto her feet and watching as she kneels before you. Her eyes follow yours as she expertly unbuckles your belt and gets your pants out of the way. Nayeon grabs your cock, freeing it from its confines, and runs her tongue around her lips. She stroked the base of your cock slowly, continuing to look at you as she moved closer and pressed her lips against the tip of your cock. She traced her lips with it slowly, “You taste so good, baby.” Nayeon says as she kisses the tip again. 

Her teasing turns you on, and you see the lust in her eyes. Placing your hand on her head, Nayeon knows you want more from her. “Slow down, baby. Let Mommy take care of you at her own pace.” She smiles at you, knowing you won’t refuse. Your stepmother sticks her tongue out, running it along the underside. The lewd act, combined with her nerdy appearance, adds to the experience. Your cock twitches from excitement in her hands, making her giggle. “You’re so needy, baby.” 

“For you, Mommy.” 

“I’ll make sure you get to let out everything you have,” Nayeon says, stroking your shaft a little faster. She runs her tongue along the tip, swirling around it before finally swallowing the head. You groan from the feeling of her warm wet mouth finally taking in your cock. Nayeon feels happy with herself after hearing that and bobs her head slowly, making sure her tongue rubs against every part of your head. She snakes a hand under her skirt, rubbing herself and moaning in the blowjob. Nayeon lets out a short laugh as she pops you out of her mouth, “Do you like Mommy’s mouth? I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

You place your hand on Nayeon’s head and force your cock back into her mouth, “Yes, Mommy. You’re a lot better now.” You groan, feeling her tongue move side to side along your cock. You reach down, groping her modest chest through her shirt and making Nayeon moan more. 

Nayeon pulls you out of her mouth with a pop, “I want you, baby,” She moans. Nayeon rises to her feet, stroking your cock and turning around. She spreads her legs and bends over slightly, shaking her ass as she waits for you. You flip her skirt and rub your cock against her folds, groaning as you feel how wet she is. “Mmm, that feels good, but I want more baby. Come fuck my tight little pussy.” Nayeon moans, pressing her ass against you. You hold her waist with one hand and press the tip against her entrance, pushing it in. You hear Nayeon gasp as you begin to split her in two. You feel the tightness of her stretched cunt as you push further in. 

Nayeon bites her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as she holds back her moan. “You’re so big, baby.” She groans, feeling you slide deeper into her. You hold Nayeon’s waist tightly and slam the rest of your length inside. She lets her voice fill the room, screaming as you hit her cervix. “Oh god, baby, fuck me.” She moans, looking at the floor as you begin thrusting. Nayeon can feel your cock sliding in and out of her stretching her cunt as you move deeper. 

“I bet you were a naughty girl in school, weren’t you?”

“Don’t say that,” Nayeon grunted in response.

“Were you the school slut?” You ask her, almost immediately feeling her tighten around you. “I think your body is answering for you.”

“I wasn’t,” she whines, struggling as your cock moves inside her. “I’m just your slut.” She moans, leaning her body back against you. You push Nayeon forward, having her between the wall and you. You snake your hands between her and the wall, rubbing her clit with your fingers, moving in small circles. “Ahh! I’m your slut, baby. Don’t stop,” Nayeon cried out. She stood on her toes, her pussy being shaped into the form of your cock. 

“Did you have sex in school? You ask her as you continue thrusting; you hear her whimper something and repeat your question. She says something quietly. Not satisfied with how she answered, you grabbed Nayeon’s arms and pushed her onto the couch, laying her on her back. You fold Nayeon in half, her legs by her head, and ram your cock deep into her cunt before asking one more time. 

“YES!” Nayeon screams as she feels you smash into her cervix. “I DID!” Nayeon continues. She grabs your shirt, tugging on it as you thrust. “They weren’t as good as you, baby. Keeping fucking your mother.” Nayeon pleads, feeling her orgasm coming. “I’m gonna cum,” She whines, her grip on your shirt becoming stronger. You were far off your orgasm and continued thrusting; you cum together. Nayeon throws her head back as she feels your cum rush into her, filling her cunt. You keep yourself buried inside, letting Nayeon’s walls milk you before slowly pulling out. 

You stand beside Nayeon, staring at the blissful expression on her face. You lean down, kissing Nayeon passionately. “I bet Mommy was the school’s fleshlight.” You whisper into her ear. 

“I’m only yours, baby.” She groans, “Mommy wants more; carry me to the bedroom.” You pick Nayeon up, carry her to her bedroom, and lay her down. Nayeon tosses her glasses on the bed. She grabs the hem of her vest and pulls it over herself, following that with her button-up shirt. Nayeon was left in her skirt and a tie. You remove the rest of your clothes and pull Nayeon’s tie, getting her close enough for a kiss. Nayeon wraps her arms around you, “This time, I want you to cum on my face.” You smile at her and spread her legs, watching as your cum from the earlier runs between her legs.

You align yourself with Nayeon’s entrance and ram your length inside, sliding in with ease, “I’ll take a picture, another one for the collection.” Nayeon arches her back and moans as you stuff her cunt again. You hold her sides as you begin thrusting; moving through her, you notice a bulge where your cock is. “Mommy, take a look at what I’m doing to you.”

Nayeon looks down, seeing your cock make a visible bulge. She smiles. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it, but it turned her on every time. Nayeon kisses you again, “Mommy’s pussy is made just for you, baby.” She moans, smiling as you fuck her roughly. 

“Mommy’s all mine.” You moan as you cup one of her tits, squeezing it. 

“That’s right, Mommy’s all yours. No one, not even your dad, can touch me.” She groans, shutting her eyes as she enjoys herself. You feel her walls tighten around you slowly and begin thrusting quicker. Her walls barely have time to come together when you rip through her again. Nayeon grips the bedsheets, feeling her second orgasm coming. “You’re going to make me cum again. Remember to pull out; mommy wants you to paint her face.” 

“Of course, Mommy.” You moan, thrusting into her. Every thrust brings you both closer to your climax. You reach down, flicking Nayeon’s clit and making her cum first. You feel her walls clamp down on your cock, trying to milk you for more of your baby batter. You continued thrusting until you were on the edge of cumming. You pull out and quickly move beside Nayeon. She grabs her glasses, puts them back on, and opens her mouth as she waits for your cum. You jerk yourself off quickly, your cum spurts on her face, coating her glasses with a few drops landing on her tongue. You move down, letting the last bit paint her chest. You slow down your strokes and take a look at how you did. 

Nayeon smiles at you, satisfied with the facial. “Take a picture of your school slut, baby.” You grab your phone and snap a few pictures of Nayeon, adding them to the collection you kept. You lay down beside Nayeon; she reaches for your cock, stroking it gently as you look through the photos you have. You look through them all, each one from a time you had sex with Nayeon. Eventually, you reach the first picture, “Aww, look at me. That was the day you made me yours.” Nayeon glances at you, “You know, baby, your father put cameras in here.”

“I know; I helped set them up.” You respond. “He doesn’t know how to access them, though. So, for now, they’re our little sex tape. We can watch them whenever you want.”

“You naughty boy,” Nayeon says, squeezing your cock.  She rolls onto you, straddling you. “Next time, we’ll do our roleplay. I’ll be the naughty teacher’s pet, and you’ll be my teacher. That will be a great video.”

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

-

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask. 

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

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[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: the two of you head back to his place and you see why the boy has soooo many fans that are crazy about him

content warning: dry humping, slight exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, denial, p in v, overstimulation

word count: 1.6k

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001: feral

Breaking news: famed baseball player of the Yomiura Giants, Ken Sato, fucks like a god. And my god, did you have to experience it to believe it.

After the exchange at the bar, the two of you headed back to his place on his bike, barely big enough for the two of you. It’ll fit, he insisted, handing you a helmet. You took your place in front of him, in between his legs—your chest to his back, and the two of you set off. But here’s the thing about riding a fast bike, zooming through the city, with the tiniest skirt and thong that you have on—everything vibrates, hard. When you realized, it was already too late to ask him to stop. You were going 90 miles an hour, desperate to get home as quickly as possible to bang it out. All you could do was bite your lip as you fought back the urge to moan and make a mess all over the front seat of a stranger that you barely knew. Eitherway, you squirmed, unknowingly grinding against the leather, trying to focus on getting yourself off when you heard a guttural groan escape from the figure behind you. You froze, realizing the all-too-familiar feeling of something hard poking your back.

“Don’t stop,” he beckons, hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you down against the seat so you couldn’t escape. “Keep getting yourself off. It turns me on, hearing you moan like that.”

You smile smugly, enjoying the effect you had on him, and start to, almost performatively, continue where you left off, drawing out your moans and grinding against him. His grip around you tightens, and you lean backwards, almost writhing. One hand gripping the front of the seat for balance, the other reaching up around his neck, pulling him downwards, so he could see you and your perverse performance. You didn’t really care that you were out in public, technically the two of you were going so fast it must’ve seemed like a blur towards the passersbys, who would’ve just heard the faintest hint of moaning underneath all that engine revving.

Unfortunately, your teasing couldn’t last forever, as you finally arrived at his place. Grinning up at him, you expected something grand, like him grabbing you and taking you then and there, but he had gotten off his seat and headed for the door without as much as giving you a second thought. Shocked, confused, and a little bit hurt—you followed after him, walking through the garage door towards the illuminated living room, which almost seemed to glow amber. However, before you had time to admire the gorgeous exterior, you found yourself shoved against the wall, his hands by your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, unsure of whether to feel afraid or excited.

“Had fun, huh?” He says, almost growling. You could make out the taut of his jaw and how his eyes were a fierce intensity of frustration and something else—more carnal—hunger. “Making a mess, teasing me—so impatient.”

His hand darts underneath your skirt, sliding in between your folds. You bite your lip, the pads of his fingers are rough against your skin, but they’re also so big, and so warm. He pulls them out, parting his fingers to showcase the sticky mess in between your thighs. A blush creeps up to your cheeks at his display of your arousal; partially embarrassed, you look away, to which he grabs your chin roughly, redirecting you towards his uncompromising gaze.

“No, look at me.” He barks, “where was that confident little slut that was hitting on me in the bar, huh?”

God.

He moves down towards your ear, his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck.

“You wanted to know how hard I bite right?” He whispers, his voice having this abrasive, impatient edge. “You’ll find out soon enough. Come here.”

And in one swift motion, he slings you across his shoulder like you weigh nothing, heading to the bedroom. You laugh nervously, part in excitement, and part in fear for what’s to come. You had never met someone as eager as he was, practically stomping on the gas pedal. You let out a surprised squeak when you are roughly thrown onto the mattress. With barely a moment to adjust, you feel him flip you over onto your stomach.

“Hands and knees,” he commands, pulling your hips closer to him. “Now.”

You do as he says, feeling his hands part you slightly, the cool air of the night and his hot breath against your core. You press your face into the sheets of his bed in anticipation.

“God,” he sounds, “do you have any idea how hard it was to not fuck you then and there in the middle of the street?”

He runs a finger down your heat, rubbing circles around your clit. You roll your eyes back and moan into the mattress, your voice coming out muffled.

“No,” he says, his large hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you up against him. His other hand wraps around your hip, reaching down to resume his actions. “Don’t hide, come here—you wanted this right?”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, causing you to arch your back against him, pressing yourself against his throbbing erection. He groans again, almost painfully, and starts to grind himself against your ass.

“Hey, come on, answer me,” his hand lightly slaps your face, “you wanted this right? Practically asking for it, staring me down with those fuck me eyes.”

You nod absentmindedly, too lost in pleasure. His fingers find their way into your mouth, finger-fucking both your holes, eliciting the lewdest moans from you. His grinding grows more and more desperate, almost throwing you off balance had it not been his grip around you keeping you in place, unable to resist or escape.

“Use your words,” he snarks, “use your words, baby, I believe in you.”

You let out another moan.

“Y-yes,” you manage to stutter out, drool dribbling around his fingers and down your chin.

“What was that?” He says, his voice teasing, breath hot against your ear. “I didn’t catch that—can you tell me again, pretty girl?”

You were so close, practically on the edge, your hips grinding against the palm of his hand, desperately chasing release.

“Yes!” Crying out as best as you can, mouth still full, “I wanted this, I asked for it.”

“Good,” he coos in your ear, “good girl.”

The praise made your insides clench and tighten around his finger, producing a perversely wet squelch. You knew from the noise that you were already a dripping mess down there, arousal coating his hand dripping down your thighs.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out from inside of you, and you gasp at the sudden loss of sensation. You look back and whimper, having been so close.

“Poor baby,” he speaks softly, “feeling empty?”

You nod your head. He smiles a devilish grin. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fill you up with something else.”

He moves to nip and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, positioning himself in between your thighs, slowly rocking back and forth—thighfucking you. You lean back against him, relishing in the pleasure of it all; your arm reaching up craning around his neck, bringing his ear down near your mouth.

“You sound so good, baby,” he moans, “soooo good.”

His hand moves from your neck, down your chest, and roughly squeezes your breast. You gasp, grinding against him more, frustrated at the teasing. You needed him in you. Badly.

“Please,” you sound out, voice dripping with need, “please put it in.”

He’s slightly shocked at your eagerness, but quickly brushes it off and smiles.

“Yeah?” He teases, “you want me that bad?”

You nod desperately. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I guess it can’t be helped.”

You feel the head of his cock press up against the swollen slit of your entrance, and in one swift motion, he pushes himself inside of you, your slickness once again making a lewd squelch. You throw your head back, finally getting the pressure you’ve been craving, letting your hips fuck into him roughly.

“Fuck,” he curses, “god, you feel so good baby.”

He pulls out slightly, before thrusting back into you, the entirety of his length pressing up against your g-spot, pushing you over the edge—legs shaking and squirting, doubled over.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, “you came just from that?”

Your lie almost motionless, trying to catch your breath, limp against the mattress. God, that was the best orgasm you’ve had in months. You’ll spend forever trying to chase that same high.

“Oh sweetheart,” he coos, kissing along the trail of your spine, “I’m far from done.”

He flips you over onto your back, spreading apart your thighs and pushing himself into you again. Your back arches instinctually, wrapping your legs around his waist, taking all of him.

“My gorgeous girl,” he hums, hand roughly gripping your face, forcing you to look at him. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on this cock.”

His thumb slides into your mouth again, making a mess of your face. His hips stutter into you, and you are helpless—overtaken by pleasure, rolling your eyes back, getting absolutely fucked stupid by him.

“Good girl,” he keeps saying, “good girl, good girl. Taking me so well.”

You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve climaxed, or how many hours this has gone on for. The seconds blurred into how many minutes in how many hours you didn’t know. All you know is that Kenji Sato fucks like a god, fucks you so good—possibly the best you’ve ever had.

“Don’t think,” he whispers in your ear, arms tightly wrapped around you, thrusting sloppily. “You don’t have to use that pretty brain of yours—don’t think—just cum. Cum for me, baby.”

And cum you did. Over and over again.

prev | next

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author’s note: GODDDD ME WHEN ME WHEN ME WHEN 💥💳💥💳💥💳 (I say this like I’m not in voluntary celibacy) hehe I hope you guys liked this 🤭🤭🤭 I’ll be honest smut is still something that’s kind of tricky for me to write but overall I’m kind of proud of this ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥 I think I kinda cooked 🗣️🗣️💥💥 all in all, I will say that I took a lot of inspiration from Lady K and the Sick Man (iykyk) 👀👀🫦🫦🫦 and uh- yeah, expect more freaky scenes like these in the story because that’s like, the initial basis of their relationship HEHE until the next update 🫵🫵💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic

[bagdaddyb]

Streamer Life

Pairing: Emo!Streamer Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Just a little fluffy tid bit.

Wanda took a hand off the keyboard and ran it through her hair as she spoke to her chat.

"I don't think this armour works for my build chat, it has crit but I'm giving up aoe and leech and my build is based around those."

She picked up her coffee taking a sip as she continued to inspect the armour and her chat.

"Yea I could move around my jewels but I like what I'm running now I'm tanky with good dps."

You walk in the room from Wanda's right with a plate of food, the new season of her game dropped and so far she'd been gaming for six straight hours. You were out of frame of her camera but also just out of her line of sight. You set the food down on Wanda's desk once you approach which catches Wanda's attention, turning her gaze to you she smiles softly. Her rare shows of pure emotion reserved for you alone. She hits the button to mute her mic and turns towards you.

"Hi baby."

She says sweetly and you hum back returning her smile.

"Hi, you haven't eaten all day I brought you some food. How's it going?"

You ask running your fingers through her hair. The action visible on stream.

"Good, I'm grinding new gear trying to solidify the build I made, I might have to respec though when it comes to ubers."

You hum and nod once more, gamer lingo was slightly foreign to you but you enjoyed listening to Wanda's passion for the game.

"Have you been drinking water love? Not just coffee I hope."

Wanda goes silent causing you to give her a look.

"I'll refill my water jug right after this."

You hum again not impressed and Wanda smirks at you.

"Thank you for the food baby."

"Always."

You reply running your fingers through her hair once more. Wands takes a moment to glance at her chat, the comments blowing up with 'hi mom'. Wanda chuckles and looks back to you.

"Chat is saying hi, do you want to greet them?"

You nod and Wanda unmutes. Wanda addresses her chat showing off the food you brought her and speaking on how you're the best girlfriend anyone could ask for. You pick up a little bit around her desk before stepping around and into frame. You wave silently at chat and they explode. You ignore it running your fingers through Wanda's hair once more.

"Alright I'm going, I love you bub."

You say before kissing her head and walking away.

"I love you too."

Wanda says lightly before turning back to her game and chat. The chat is blowing up 'they're so cute' 'where can I get a girlfriend like that' 'goals' 'omg clipped it'.

"Chill chat chill."

Wanda chuckles out.

"Be right back the misses wants me to refill my water jug then we're back to the grind."

Wanda walks away smiling, entering the living room she comes over to bend and give you a few kisses.

"What would I do without you?"

"Starve or dehydrate which ever came first."

Wanda just laughs at your response, kissing you once more.

[itzyxnct]

a ryujin and yeji x male reader breeding smut please

Sorry if this is bad, this is my first time writing for male reader so I wasn't really too sure what I was doing but hope this is okay

Kinktober Day 21 (🔞🍆💞)

Ryujin × Yeji × Male!Reader - I Want Your Babies

When you went out that night you never expected it the end like this, you made eye contact with a beautiful woman at the bar so you went over and introduced yourself, and she also introduced you to her friend after introducing herself, you thought they were both absolutely beautiful and offered to buy them a drink, being slightly shocked when they agreed

It was a few hours into the night and several drinks in when you felt the black haired girl, who's name was Ryujin , tugging on your arm and her cat eyed friend Yeji doing the same on the other arm, you looked at them both and waited for Ryujin to speak "can we leave .....with you....now" she whispered in your ear causing the hairs on your neck to stand up, you nodded at her in response standing up and escorting the two ladies out of the building, luckily you only lived a few minutes walk away so you led the way, Yeji still hanging on your arm and Ryujin whispering something to her

When you walked into your apartment you barely had time to shut the door before both girls were on you, Ryujin wasting no time in stripping you of your leather jacket, then pulling apart your shirt not caring about the buttons flying everywhere, while Yeji dropped to her knees instantly busying her hands unbuckling your belt before unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down leaving you in nothing but your boxers

Yeji then stood up, her hand cupping your growing erection and saying "take us to your bed big boy, we want you now" these words making your dick twitch under her hand

"Um .....this way" you let her know grabbing her hand and showing her the way, yeji grabbing Ryujin's hand and pulling her along too

You lead them into your room and the second they saw the bed they started stripping out of their dresses before getting on the bed and bending over onto their knees giving you a beautiful view of their asses that you couldn't wait to touch

"We want you to fuck us both so hard that we can't walk tomorrow" Ryujin said looking back at you , making you quickly take your cock out from your boxers, running your hand over it a few times until you were rock hard and making your way to the edge of the bed trying to decide who to fuck first  but Ryujin ended up making that choice for you when she move her ass back making your dick enter her pussy, the tightness momentarily taking your breath away

While you were fucking Ryujin you couldn't help but stare at Yeji who had now turned over onto her front and had her legs wide open for you as she played with herself, moaning as she circled her clit watching wantingly as you thrusted your hips into Ryujin at a sickening pace "oh fuck yes daddy just like that' Ryujin moaned out as she took all of your cock inside her walls feeling your tip hit her cervix, you did know how much longer you'd last the way Ryujin's pussy was clenched around you trying to milk you of your cum, 2 more thrusts and you tried to pull out nearly cumming but Ryujin didn't let you, trapping you inside her with her feet wrapping around the backs of your thighs keeping you in place "daddy ....please cum inside me....i want your babies" the brunette whined out desperately as she softly continued riding you and with the way she looked at you, you'd never be able to deny her so you did what she asked, cumming inside her pussy watching as the white liquid dripped out of her hole as you pulled out of her

However you didn't have much time to recover as Yeji had moved herself into Ryujin's previous position "Good boy" she praised "but now it's my turn" she said before turning to look at Ryujin who was infront of her and gesturing for the black haired beauty to lay down and spread her legs which she did, you watched as some of your cum trickled out of Ryujin's pussy but to your surprise Yeji swooped it up with her finger and licked it saying "we can't let that go to waste when  daddy tastes so good can we Ryujin" yeji asked in her sultry voice making Ryujin shake her head so you watched as Yeji leaned forward licking a stripe through Ryujin's folds before tongue fucking you're cum out of her best friend

Safe to say you were hard again and took no time grabbing Yeji's hips and entering her, stretching her out  as you looked up to see Yeji still eating Ryujin out, you used up the last of your energy grabbing a hold of the orange ponytail for leverage and stating to fuck Yeji with an animalistic pace that had her screaming into Ryujin's clit as she came with you doing the same shortly after as did Ryujin, you were exhausted as you pulled out of Yeji, once again watching as your cum dripped down her thighs before Ryujin nudged you out of the way so she could lick the cum from Yeji just like she had done to her moments ago

You watched the 2 woman wondering how this ended up happening to you, secretly hoping it happened again....which it did

[v1si0n]

ch. 21: hyucks personal issue

It’s two in the morning as Donghyuck thrashes in his bed, pulling and tossing his sheets around to find some form of comfort that would help him sleep. His mind is plagued with thoughts of you and even at this ungodly hour the butterflies in his stomach refuse to settle.

Jisung’s arm draping across his chest snaps him out of his thoughts and he grimaces. He shoves the younger boy aside and slips out of the bed, tip toeing towards the bedroom door before quietly exiting. He walks through the living room and pulls at the sliding doors that lead him to the ocean view balcony.

The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore did little to ease the racing of Donghyuck’s mind. He was in what he could only describe as complete agony, his own thoughts eating at his brain as he stared off into the inky sky.

His mind wanders back to high school, specifically to the time when you had confessed to him and he chuckles to himself. He remembers the glow of your rosy cheeks and the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your knitted sweater. He remembers his heart beating out of his chest and his words being stuck in his throat as you told him you liked him. He winces when he recalls the way your eyes filled with tears when he stood there dumbfounded and unable to speak. He leans against the balcony railing and runs his hands through his hair.

“Is there room for me out here?”

Donghyuck turns his head when he hears your voice behind him, a smile etching itself onto his features when he sees a large blanket swaddling your body. He gestures to the spot next to him and you waddle over. Your eyes glisten as they look out at the view, and his own twinkle with adoration.

“Why are you up?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t know. I’ve been having a hard time sleeping since the whole campus intruder thing,” You confess.

“You should have told me! I could have kept you company,” He frowns.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother you, Hyuck,” You laugh to yourself.

“You wouldn’t be a bother,” He furrows his brows.

You meet his eyes and send him a small smile. A comfortable silence blankets the two of you as you both look out at the ocean, a slight breeze causing Donghyuck to shiver.

“Here,” You open your blanket towards him and he smiles before moving closer to you and wrapping the blanket around himself.

Your arms brush against each other as he adjusts himself and you internally sigh in relief that the dark of the night hides the rose tint on your cheeks.

“Why are you up?” You break the silence.

“Thinking about a lot of things,” He exhales.

“Like what?”

You swear you see the ghost of a smirk on his face and you quirk a brow.

“Feelings, the past, you,” he replies calmly and you tense up beside him.

“Care to elaborate?” You look at him in anticipation.

He lets out a breath as his eyes follow the way the water rolls onto the sand.

“I think,” he pauses and laughs, “I think I might have always had feelings for you.”

You stare at the side of his face, your features twisting in disbelief as he continues to stare out at the ocean.

"Why did you never tell me?"

"It was a personal issue,” he shrugs.

“You having feelings for me kind of also involves me."

He laughs at your statement and you stare at him incredulously, waiting for a response.

“It’s funny, I wasn’t able to tell you back then because I think I just couldn’t…believe it? This sounds so stupid but I just felt—feel…I still feel that it’d be impossible for someone like you to like someone like me,” he looks down and picks at his fingers.

“You say that as if you’re so bad.”

“Come on Y/N. Do you know anyone else who would use “heyyy queen” in a professional setting?”

You both laugh at the memory of his message to Doyoung. The laughter trails off and you both look ahead.

“I also don’t know anyone else who would bring me coffee every morning because they know I don’t sleep well. Or anyone else who would ask their manager to work overtime so I’m not alone during my night shifts.”

He gawks at you, unaware that you had noticed his acts of service that he tried to brush off as coincidences.

“Hyuck.”

“Y/N.”

“You said you think you’ve always had feelings for me right?”

“Correct,” he raises his brow.

“Well,” you sigh, bracing yourself, “I know I’ve always had feelings for you.”

His eyes bulge out of his head and it reminds you of your first encounter with him at the convenience store. You start laughing quietly to yourself at first, but the longer he stayed silent the louder you became.

“Is this…a prank?” He speaks up after what felt like decades of silence.

“What? No. I’m laughing because this is the second time I’ve confessed to you. You’re the only person I’ve confessed to in my entire lifetime,” You manage to breathe out between fits of laughter, and he stares at you with nothing but confusion.

“So you currently like me?” He points at himself as he speaks.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You-“

“Yep.”

“Like-“

“Mhm.”

“Me?” His eyebrows are drawn together as he points between you two.

“Yep, that’s about right,” you answer calmly.

“What about Jaehyun? Do you know how much journaling Jaemin made me do just so I could come to terms with the fact that you like him?” He sputters.

“Hyuck, one of the first things Jaehyun knew about me was that I’ve liked you since high school. We got closer because he was trying to help me with you.”

His expression is unreadable for a moment, before his features soften and he seems to melt in relief. He pulls you into his arms and your heart jumps at the sudden contact.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“For?”

“Liking me. Waiting for me. All of it,” he confesses as he gently sways you both back and forth.

You both stay like this for a while, neither of you wanting to leave the warmth of the other. It isn’t until your phone buzzes in your pocket do you reluctantly pull away.

“It’s Karina. She’s asking where I am,” You speak quietly as you read the message on your phone.

“You should head back inside then,” he frowns, removing the blanket from his shoulders and wrapping it around you.

“Don’t stay up too late,” you point your finger at him and he nods. “We’ll talk more tomorrow?”

He smiles at you with a nod of reassurance, and you slide the glass door open to leave.

“Oh, and Hyuck?” You turn to him one more time and he raises his eyebrows, prompting you to continue.

You raise yourself onto your tippy toes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” you smile sweetly at his frozen form before walking back into the living room and sliding the door shut.

As you get ready to turn the corner towards your shared room with Karina, you peek over at the balcony one last time to see Donghyuck pumping his fists in the air before clasping them together and staring up at the sky as if talking to God.

You wonder if it would have ever been possible for you to stop liking him.

wc: a little over 1.2k my bad😓

ch. 22: y/nhyuckism

masterlist（＾＿＾）☆

notes: not proofread but i looooove this chapter sm !!! i hope u love it as much as i do my dears

taglist: @dojaejunging @nosungluv @snflwrhaerecs4u @foxy-kitsune @haecnh @jising-jisang-jisung @soobunsbun @bath1lda @haechansbbg @hamjwis @hancafe @wonbin-truther @beomgyusonlywife @sehunniepot @jaeyunluvbot @multifandomania @https-yeonjun @swee7dream @woshixinqgiu @defzcl @heheheeral @meowtella @grassbutneo @beommii @jinostooth

[writing-fanics]

not once

Sebastian Michaelis x F!Reader

Not even once did Sebastian think he’d end up falling in love with a human. Why, would be an immortal being a demon in fact want to fool around with such human emotions.

Toying with them for his own entertainment and manipulating them at their most vulnerable was quite enjoyable. But actually, falling in love developing feelings that made his immortal heart skip a beat?

and yet, here she was his beautiful wife fast asleep on the bed in one of the many rooms in the Phantomhive manor. that the young master so graciously gave her when went into labor only twelve hours ago.

He walked over towards the bassinet, peered over and smiled seeing the tiny half-demon offspring. Tiny whimpers, escaped the babies mouth as it squirmed. He smirked, picking up the child and cradling them in his arms.

“My child, you’re just as beautiful as your mother.” He cooed, over the infant who opened his eyes and had a faint smile on his face.

“My little, Arioch.” He cooed, he looked over towards his wife who was fast asleep. Young master, had already given him a few days off to be with his child and wife.

Arioch babbled, looking up at his father his tiny hands reaching up to touch his raven black hair. Sebastian smiled, “Already, growing up before my very eyes.” He said, and the infant giggled continuing to make nonsenseical babbles.

Arioch has taken the place of the most adorable being, on the entire planet. Step out of the way cats Sebastian’s son has taken your place.

Arioch giggled, and his eyes for a moment flash red and Sebastian smiled planting a kiss on his sons forehead. His son, looked just like his mother. Sebastian found absolutely adorable.

“He’s beautiful isn’t he?” A voice said, and he turned around seeing his wife awake and reaching out her arms to see her child.

Sebastian walked towards her leaning down kissing her on the lips, “He is,” He whispered, into her ear causing her to smile. As she looked at the infant, cooing over how cute he was and how much he looked like the two of them combined.

Arioch sneezed, causing [Y/n] to squeal at how cute their baby is. Sebastian looked between his wife and child, and didn’t know what he would do without them. Yes, he’d continue to serve the young master until their contract was over and he’d devour his soul.

Yet, during that time the demon had fallen in love with a human and made a child. Demons usually takes lives not create them and here he was holding the life he’d created in his arms. And it honestly felt surreal to him, he was a demon and yet was experiencing something so heavenly especially for someone who’s been damned to hell.

He knew that one day his wife would pass, his son he doesn’t know exactly. Arioch might live longer than a human but not be an immortal. “My love,” Sebastian said, his wife turned to look at him.

“Thank you, for sharing this experience with me,” He said, and she smiled planting a kiss on his cheek before placing one hand on his cheek.

“No, thank you. I love you so much Sebastian demon or not that doesn’t change how I feel.” She said, and he just grinned.

“Also, I think Grell found out that we have a child now and she’s not happy.” She said, and Sebastian frowned in annoyance seeing the angry grim reaper outside the window.

‘Bassy! It’s no fair!’

‘How does she get you and I don’t!’

“I’ll be right back my love.” He said, and she nodded before looking back at her baby smiling.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2024 Day 5: Alone

ao3 fic link.

Lena wakes up, and she knows instantly she’s alone. Panic sets in for a moment, because Kara wouldn’t just leave, not after last night.

Lena would though. Lena has, after a one night stand where they did what they needed to do so she left in the early hours of the morning.

But this isn’t like this, this is Kara. Kara who told her she loves her, Kara who kissed her so gently that Lena cried.

This is Kara, her best friend, the person she trusts most, the person she loves the most, and now she knows Kara loves her too.

Lena sits up and looks around, blanket clutched to her chest. She sees her clothes neatly folded in a pile, which is definitely not where she left them last night. She’s pretty sure some didn’t even make it into the room. 

Lena blushes at the memory.

She looks around for her phone, and realises it didn’t make it to the room with them either, that it’s probably still in her purse in the living room.

That’s the first thing she needs, to find Kara. That, and she needs coffee. She debates for a moment putting on her clothes but instead decides to grab a hoodie and pair of Kara’s pants instead.

The hoodie smells like Kara, this whole place does, and for a moment it makes her want to bury herself back in bed and wait for Kara.

Because she knows Kara wouldn’t just leave her, knows Kara will be back.

It’s in the kitchen that Lena figures out where Kara is gone. Or at least that she’ll be back, a scribbled note on the table.

Be back soon. -K x 

It’s still early, and Lena knows she probably should go back to her own apartment, shower and get ready for work. But she’s not going to do that, not yet. Because all she can think about is seeing Kara, kissing her again and making sure that she doesn’t regret what happened.

Lena doesn’t.

Lena hasn’t even had time to consider making herself a coffee when the door clicks open and Kara is walking through the door.

“Oh,” Kara startles, clearly not expecting to see Lena. For a moment, Lena wonders if she should have left, but she doesn’t need to worry when Kara continues. “I was hoping to surprise you in bed.”

Lena had been so focused on Kara, she hadn’t noticed the paper bag and coffee cup holder in her hands.

Lena suddenly doesn’t know what to say. This is all new to her. Not only has their relationship changed overnight, but she doesn’t want to mess this up. Kara is too important to her and she can’t lose her over this. Lena doesn’t have a great track record with relationships and she’s never felt like this about anyone before, never wanted a relationship to work out like she wants this too.

“Are you panicking?” Kara asks, suddenly much closer than before, food no longer in her hands.

“No,” Lena replies. Kara raises her eyebrow and Lena knows she’s been caught. “Ok, maybe a little. I don’t want to mess this up.”

Kara takes her hands, and Lena instantly feels her thoughts settle, the warmth of Kara’s hands seeping into her skin.

“I know, me too. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I do know that you and me? We can do anything together. So, we probably will both mess up, but I know that no matter what happens, we can get through anything, because it’s us.”

Lena smiles. “Thank you.” 

She knows this will be a constant worry but for now it’s quietened down, both because of Kara’s words but also because Kara is smiling now too and it’s hard to focus on anything else when Kara is smiling at her.

Kara leans forward and Lena gets the memo, meeting her halfway in a kiss that feels so much like coming home that Lena feels like crying again.

“Good morning,” Kara mumbles against her mouth, Lena can feel her smile against her own.

“You taste like cinnamon,” Lena replies, and Kara pulls away. Lena would regret her words but Kara is grinning, looking sheepish in a way that’s too cute for words.

“I got hungry.”

Lena laughs. When is Kara not hungry?

“I like this, too,” Kara says, tugging on Lena’s shirt. “You look good in my clothes.” Kara pauses. “You look good out of them too.”

Kara’s blushing as she says the words, it’s adorable.

“Is that so?” Lena asks, and it’s her turn to lift her eyebrow.

Kara leans forward, clearly embarrassed as she hides her face in Lena’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Kara mumbles and Lena laughs, wrapping her arms around her best friend. ...Or girlfriend? She’s not sure, but they’re going to have plenty of time to figure that out.

Lena grins. “Good to know.”

[borathae]

Grief is a funny thing

"Grief is a funny thing. You think that you got over it until you are sitting on a random bench, on a random Monday night and it comes back to remind you that it will always be part of you."

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Angst, married life!AU, Hurt & Comfort

Warnings: OC graduated yaay!!, but it brings up old memories for her and she is in a state of guilt & grief, talk about loss of family and grief that won't leave, tears, but Jungkook is there for her and he is such a comfort, i love him a lot

Wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: sometimes i have the desire to write something angsty for the aaol!couple. listennn, i reread some of the main chapters again and i wanted to write something about OC's grief over her brother and how Kook handles her grief episodes. soo that's why this was created <3

You graduated. You actually did it. You are officially a person with a masters degree. You are something. The degree is at home where you left it. On the living room coffee table next to an empty glass of water. 

You can’t look at it.  

Nobody would get you if you told them that you don’t want to look at it, because it’s insane. You are aware of it. For years, all you dreamt of was being something one day. And then it happened and you were able to pursue your dream education and to graduate. You literally fulfilled your biggest dream, it should make you happy and it does, but it also doesn’t. Deep down in your heart you know the reason for it, but you aren’t ready to admit it to yourself yet. It would make you cry. You hate crying for negative reasons.

Your phone rings. This is the third time it does and you know that you can’t ignore whoever is calling you any longer. 

Your heart stings when you check their ID. 

Your Jungkookie is calling. You pick up, feeling guilty as you do. 

“Yes?”

“Oh my god, finally. Thank god. Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for what feels like hours. Are you okay?” Jungkook sounds distressed on the other side of the line. Understandably. It is currently one in the morning and you left without warning. 

“I’m okay, just went for a walk.”

“At one in the morning?” he sounds confused. Understandably so. You are normally sleeping at this time of day. 

“Yeah, well. Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s pouring buckets right now.”

“I guess it is.”

Silence on his side where he clearly tries to process what you are saying. 

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up”, he says in the end.

“Paradis. The bench in front of it.”

Another silence. Understandably. You never went back there again after quitting your job.

“Just…just stay there. I’ll be quick”, Jungkook tries to sound neutral, but the anxiety is clear in his voice.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I adore you.”

“I adore you too.”

The call ends. You shove the phone back into your jacket pocket and continue to stare at the sign while the rain pours down on you. Jungkook doesn’t need to worry. You weren’t planning on leaving this bench for quite a while. All of this studying about how to help people and you feel helpless. It almost paralyzes you and makes time pass in a blur.

Jungkook runs to get to you, getting wet even under the umbrella as the water slaps against him. He calls out your name. You turn your head slowly, looking at him with tired, empty eyes. 

“Oh my god, my love. You scared me so much. Why would you leave without saying anything?” he says, falling around your neck to hug you against him. 

Your body falls into him. He is warm and his hug is tight. He cradles the back of your head, twisting parts of your jacket with his other hand. 

“You made me worry like crazy. Please don’t ever do this again”, he says between little kisses all over your face and head.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Apology accepted, my love. Just tell me what’s wrong, please.” 

Now that he is with you and you are in his arms, the state of you is so clear to you. 

“I’m really cold.” 

“No wonder. It’s fucking November and you’re sitting here getting drenched.” He says, trying to warm you by rubbing your back. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You let him help you to your feet. You hook arms with him, hugging his arm with both hands. You even go as far as to rest your head against it. Jungkook holds the umbrella even though you and he are already soaked to the bones. 

“You’re worrying me, my love. What’s the matter?” he asks.

You and he walk back to his car at a slow pace.

“I don’t know”, you say.

“Why did you come here? Out of all the places?”

“I don’t know. I was at my old place too. It’s a storehouse for the restaurant these days.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t really get why you’re here and what you’re doing. I’m sorry.” 

“I can’t look at it.”

“Look at what?”

“My masters.”

Silence. You can watch him as he processes what you said. You can also see how he is trying so hard to be supportive.

“Please don’t take it the wrong way, but why? I’m not judging, just having a hard time understanding this correctly.”

You cuddle closer. He always knows exactly what to say. It feels reassuring when he is honest. He might not understand, but he wants to. This is what unconditional love feels like. 

“Whenever I look at it, I feel sick. I fulfilled my biggest dream and I’m happy, but I also feel lost.”

“I see. Now I understand. It’s scary knowing that something as big as college is over, but didn’t you play with the idea of doing your PhDs too?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“See? It’s not over yet if you want to. You have all the choices in the world. You can open your praxis or pursue your doctor’s degree. You have all the possibilities in the world. I’ll support you in any of them.” 

“I guess.”

“Unless that’s what you’re lost with. Do you struggle with deciding?”

“I struggle with accepting the reality that I am something.”

“No, my love”, he gasps.

“I feel unworthy of it. I had this life”, you say, gesturing at the general direction of Paradis. “And now I have a Masters in psychology with chances of becoming a fucking doctor. It’s insane. I shouldn’t have this.”

“Yes, you should”, Jungkook insists loudly, furrowing his brows, “you worked so hard for it. I had to carry you to bed sometimes when you fell asleep by your desk because you were so exhausted from studying. Remember?” 

“Yeah.”

“See? You literally worked your ass off for it. You should have it, for fuck’s sake. You wanted it for years and I won’t let you feel like this now.” 

You and he stop in front of his car. He shakes you by your shoulders gently as if to shake you awake from your self-deprecating nightmare. 

“You’re intelligent, resourceful and hardworking, ambitious and resilient and you got your degree because of that. You are amazing and you worked hard for it. You deserve it.” 

You nod your head, but say nothing to it.

“Okay, my love?”

He looks at you. You look at your feet.

“Okay, my love?” he stresses, caressing your cheek gently.

“Jungkook, I miss my brother”, you confess what truly hurts so bad, instantly breaking into tears.

“Oh ___ my love, I’m sorry. Come here”, Jungkook gasps, wrapping his unoccupied arm around you.

You melt into his chest, sobbing into it while he holds you and comforts you. 

“He and I, we always fantasised about how it would be to become something. He always talked about sending me off to college one day. But he’s dead and he won’t ever see that I actually did it. He’s dead. Why is he fucking dead?”

“Oh my love. I’m sorry. Life is so unfair”, Jungkook gets out, crying with you.

“It hurts so bad. He was supposed to see me off to college and, and see me graduate.”

“He was. He really was”, Jungkook agrees, sobbing afterwards which gives you so much comfort. It feels so reassuring and comforting so cry with him. You don’t even mind crying for negative reasons when he is with you. 

“I feel so guilty. He was supposed to escape this life with me. We were supposed to get healthy and be happy.”

“You were, my love. But it’s not your fault. He wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for changing your life for the better.”

“I know, but it still hurts.”

You look up at Jungkook, spilling tears. He does as well, cradling your cheek.

“He was supposed to know you. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle and, and be happy for me because I fell in love with someone like you.”

Jungkook smiles, sniffling. 

“He was supposed to be there on my happiest days. Why did he have to die?”

“I don’t know and it’s so unfair.”

“It is. He, he was supposed to be there for me on those days. He was…” A sob interrupts you. Jungkook soothes it with gentle touches to your arms. “It hurts so much to know that he won’t ever see who I became. I will always stay this little, drug addicted orphan girl to him. It hurts so bad that I never became someone different to him.”

“No, my love no. I’m sure that his spirit is still somewhere out there and he watched you grow up and become who you are today, my love.”

“Do you really think that?” you ask, looking at him with child-like hopefulness in your eyes.

“I do. I’m sure he is currently looking down at you and he feels proud and happy.”

“I hope so”, you say and lower your head. Tears drip down from your cheeks. “Urgh god, I hate crying”, you get out, wiping at your own face aggressively.

“Hey no.” Jungkook stops you gently. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You look up at him while he holds your hands. He caresses your chin with the same hand, using his thumb for it.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he suggests in a soft voice. 

You nod your head.  

“Come on, I’ll drive.” 

You let him help you into the car. You stare outside as he drives off and you continue to stare outside as he drives through the city. It’s late and it's raining, which means that the streets are almost empty for a change. Jungkook doesn’t have the radio on. The purring of the car and the rain against the window are all the noises you hear. He has his hand on your thigh, giving you constant rubs of comfort. It’s warm and it’s nice.

You and he drove for a while when you break the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He glances at you.

“For what?”

“For running off without warning. For being so ungrateful for my masters. For dumping all of my stuff on you.”

“I’m not even gonna play into this right now because there’s nothing for you to be sorry for”, Jungkook answers you with slight anger in his voice. He isn’t angry at you, but your self-deprecating use of words.

You hold his hand.

“I’m just so messy and you’re so good”, you confess. 

“You’re tired and you’re exhausted. Today was a very overwhelming day. Don’t believe your thoughts anymore, my love.”

You and he stop at a red light. 

“You love me, right?”

Jungkook instantly leans over to kiss you. First your lips, then your forehead.

“I love you so much”, he whispers, cradling your cheek and gazing deep into your eyes. “I love everything about you, even the messiest and darkest parts. I always have and always will.” 

You can’t bear to look into his eyes anymore, lowering your head shyly. The red light switches from red to green back to red again in the time you and he sit in the car and let his words sink in. The rain sounds calming as it hits the car. 

“What are you thinking right now?” he asks in a quiet, gentle voice. 

“A lot. Grief and guilt and, and… I guess, I’m thinking that I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore now that I talked about it with you.” 

“Yes? This makes me happy to hear. I’ll always be there for you. And I’ll always come and get you from wherever you run off to.” 

He makes you laugh. Jungkook laughs with you, kissing your forehead. The light switches to green. He takes this chance and drives off, holding your hand as he does.

“Jungkook, I wanna take a shower and then talk in bed”, you tell him.

“That sounds good. We’ll shower and then we’ll cuddle and you can tell me all about your brother.”

“But I already told you everything.”

“And? It won’t ever be boring to me.” 

“Oh.” 

A deep breath fills your lungs and as it leaves you again, you feel lighter. You rest your head against the window, looking at him. The rainy night city passes him, the changing lights paint the prettiest of artworks onto his face.

“You’re the best goddamn thing that ever happened to me.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand because that is all he can do right now in fear of looking away from traffic for too long.

“I can say the same about you, my love.”

[mingoooossii]

Soft spot.

Yeosang x reader ft. ateez

Synopsis: yeo introducing you to the other members<3

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, brief moments of anxiety w yeo but it's all good. Whipped! Yeosang and when i say whipped, i mean WHIPPED. He's so in love 😣. The reader is mentioned to be a university professor. And also Mother Hwa makes an appearance 🙏

A/n: this had me 🤧🥹😭 kicking my feet and everything. Men in love >>> Also my first time writing multiple characters so it might be a lil awk.

Words: 1.0k

Requested ♡

Ateez masterlist.

Yeosang stood at the entrance of the university, his eyes scanning the lively campus scene. He had never been one to immerse himself in such vibrant energy, but everything had changed, precisely six months ago.

He recalled that Sunday morning vividly when you entered his life like a literal ray of sunshine piercing through a dreary sky.

Innocent conversations had led to this, to him and you. You, who he considered his total opposite. You, who managed to break through his otherwise cloudy existence and you, who he had fallen for completely and hopelessly.

"Yeosang!"

A sweet voice pulled him from his reverie.

He turned to see you approaching, your bag in hand and a radiant smile lighting up your face. That smile sent a wave of affection through him. Though he typically shied away from public displays of affection, in that moment, he yearned to kiss you.

"Why are you looking at me like that? It's making my heart race."

You teasingly remarked, stopping right in front of him and linking your arm with his.

"Come on..." Yeosang murmured, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. His heart raced uncontrollably, or perhaps it was just the anxiety of the question he was about to ask you.

In that instant, he spotted a group of students strolling past, one of them calling out cheerfully, "Professor Y/n!" while waving enthusiastically.

You responded with a wave of your own, playfully adopting a mock serious expression that couldn't quite mask your grin. "Make sure you keep up with your studies, alright? I’ll know if you don’t!"

Yeosang observed the exchange, a soft smile gracing his lips. He had certainly noticed the admiration and respect in the students' eyes when they looked at you. You had a unique ability to connect with others, or perhaps this was always your world. And he was glad to be part of it.

"Oh, right! Didn't you have something to tell me?" you asked, redirecting your focus back to him as they continued walking.

"Yeah..." he replied, a nervous flutter coursing through him. Even though you had been together for some time, he wondered if he was rushing things. "My members... they want to meet you..."

He had envisioned that very moment countless times—introducing the love of his life to the people he considered family. Though he wasn't sure what to expect. Surely, they'd love you yet there was nagging feeling of worry in the back of his mind. And he wasn't sure what you'd feel about it...

"What?" You halted abruptly, spinning around to face him with eyes wide open, disbelief etched across your features. For a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of regret. But before he could take back his words, you interrupted him.

"Gifts... gifts! I have to get something ready for them!" you burst out, a trace of anxiety flickering on your face, yet the joy emanating from you was undeniable. "You should've told me this earlier!"

He watched as you rambled on, something about wanting to give a good impression and something about handpicking gifts, a wave of relief and warmth washing over him. Seems like he was worrying for nothing.

જ⁀➴

Or maybe not. Standing in front of his dorm room, his heart raced as if he were the one being introduced. He glanced at you beside him, feeling his nerves ease at the sight of your beaming smile. You definitely seemed more calm than him.

His gaze then shifted to the bag you held, a small smile forming on his lips. True to your word, you had spent hours carefully choosing gifts for the members, drawing from what you had learned about them from him. You were always so attentive and so particular about the small things, a trait that he adored so much.

Turning back to the door, he inhaled deeply before grasping the doorknob, twisting it open, and stepping inside.

"Oh, Yeosang...-" Seonghwa, who was lounging on the couch engrossed in his phone, glanced up and froze, realizing they had company.

"Hyung, this is...Y/n, my...my partner..." Yeosang introduced you with a tentative smile as you emerged from behind him, a bashful grin on your face. "Nice to meet you, Seonghwa."

A warm smile spread across Seonghwa's face as he took in your presence. You matched every detail Yeosang had shared. "It's great to finally meet you; Yeosang talks about you all the time."

You laughed lightly at that, while Yeosang's cheeks turned a shade of pink, though the fleeting embarrassment was overshadowed by the relief he felt.

Meeting the other members led to similarly warm exchanges. Seonghwa and San, in particular, took an instant liking to you. Wooyoung, thrilled to have found "his match," quickly opened up, leading to laughter and a strong connection between you two.

And as the afternoon wore on, he noticed the others starting to warm up to you too. Mingi and Jongho had began to partake in the conversations, the latter a bit more after finding out you had similar interests. Even Yunho and Hongjoong, who were bit on the sceptical side initially, could see why you were special.

Hongjoong exchanged a knowing glance with Seonghwa, both sharing the same sentiment.

Seonghwa cast a quick glance at Yeosang, whose gaze was locked onto you, like it had been the entire afternoon. The admiration in Yeosang's eyes sparkled brighter than anything else around.

A smile began to spread across Seonghwa's face. Yeosang was a gentle and soft-hearted, often a bit reserved person. Blame his motherly nature but as endearing as it was, it sometimes left Seonghwa with a sense of concern.

But now, Seonghwa realized he had discovered his sanctuary, his one true person. You undeniably brought out the joy in Yeosang, and for that, he felt immense gratitude.

"They're perfect," Seonghwa whispered, his voice laced with warmth, just loud enough for Yeosang to catch, as he reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring pat.

Yeosang turned to him, a wave of warmth enveloping him. Then, he shifted his attention back to you, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he watched you engage in a lively yet heated discussion with Wooyoung about something trivial. (Oh, Wooyoung...)

It was enamouring. He had not only found someone who loved him but also someone who fit effortlessly into his world. As if you were that final piece of a puzzle he had been searching for all his life.

And... you truly were. For this, he was eternally grateful.

[astaroth1357]

"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":

*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*

Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???

*the MC... almost does a spit take*

MC: Excuse me???

Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??

*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*

MC: .... Do you really want to know?

Asmo: Of course!!

Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...

Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??

Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡

MC: Well... if I have to pick...

MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.

Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*

Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.

*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*

Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!

Lucifer: Mammoooon?

Mammon: 😨 Shit!

MC: It is Mammon, actually.

Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!

*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*

Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!

*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*

MC: It sure is~

*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*

Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄

MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.

*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*

All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.

MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?

Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...

MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!

*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*

Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣

Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢

MC: It’s actually you, Satan!

Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?

*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*

Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?

Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.

Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏

Lucifer: Don't push your luck....

MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!

Asmo: THANK YOU!!

Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!

Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌

Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨

MC: You know what? It's Beel.

*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*

Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊

MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂

MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...

Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"

MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.

MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!

Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....

Bonus:

MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*

Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?

MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...

Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?

MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...

Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬

MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫

[bucketbueckers]

ACCOUNTING

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader (no use of y/n) wc: 2.8k synopsis: you're watching kk and the rest of the team fool around on live when azzi fudd walks in asking for an accounting tutor. deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you. notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework. 

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else. 

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest. 

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you. 

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi. 

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing. 

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck. 

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly. 

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure. 

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply. 

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into. 

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist. 

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)