#I was going to post a picture of the tattoo I’m doing now but I was too lazy to clean it up for a picture

[myokk]

trick or treat!!

Hi J🥹💓🥹💓 Happy Halloween!!

Here is the lovely Julia drawn in 5 min🫶🫶🫶 plus a bright pink Chappel Roan portrait I hope I finish tomorrow😆💓

[spideyjimin]

Before you | jjk

⤷ part of the dads universe

⏤ pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, long-haired!jungkook, pregnancy, mention of abortion, sexual tension, alcohol consumption, a lot of making out, finger sucking, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, mention of oral sex, swearing, some teasing, pet names, pregnancy kink, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms 

⏤ words: 16,354

⏤ summary: jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?   

⏤ author’s note: so guys, yesterday i tried to post this but it was a complete mess 😫 hopefully today it works without any issues! in any case, i’m happy to post this fic once more, especially since a lot of you asked for it 💜 it was a bit odd to read something i wrote years ago but it was at the same time intriguing because i’ve changed since i wrote it. hope you’ll like it 💜

MASTERLIST

OCTOBER 5, 2018

In a few minutes, Jungkook is coming.

You’re in your bathroom with a pregnancy test in your hands. Yong-ji, your best friend has convinced you in some way to do it, she thinks that you don’t have the flu. For the past week, you have had all the symptoms of the flu and you stayed home to rest a bit. But she doesn’t think that’s what you have. 

Before you can even see the result, there’s a knock on your door. Jungkook. 

He has no idea that you’re taking that pregnancy test, Yong-ji herself is not even aware. After she insisted several times, you told her that you wouldn’t do it. Unlike her, you’re convinced that you’re not pregnant. 

You leave the bathroom, put the test in the corner of the sink, and run to the door to open it for your friend. Jungkook has been around for a bit more than a year, and he has been one of your closest friends lately. Always there when you need him the most. And you’re just grateful to have met him. 

“You look so pale,” he comments when he sees you. 

“Hello to you too, JK,” you say, smiling back at him. “Come on in.” 

His eyes look at you with concern before entering your small apartment. It’s not huge, unfortunately, you’re not rich yet but it’s so comfy. You liked this apartment the second you first saw it because it was what you needed. 

“I brought some things to eat,” he says while walking to the kitchen with a little bag in his hands. “I guess you didn’t eat anything today.” 

That man understands you as nobody does. Although your friendship is very recent, he probably knows you better than Yong-ji who has been your friend for six years. You wonder how that's even possible. 

You’re just behind him, following him into the kitchen, and he puts his handbag on the small table. Today, Jungkook is wearing a sweater with black skinny jeans, and you know for sure that under his sweater, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that he wore all day at work.   

“How was your day?” you ask, trying to change the topic of your conversation. 

Your friend turns back to catch a glance at you before he raises an eyebrow. He’s perfectly aware that you didn’t eat anything during the day and that you’re changing the topic of conversation because you don’t want him to get worrier. Since you’re sick, he’s not going to say anything.  

“The same as always,” he says while rolling his eyes. “Clients came, I made a bunch of tattoos and I barely had the time to work on some projects.”

This last year, he has gained tons of new clients and he’s busy tattooing them most of the day. Before, he used to find some time to work on projects, but now, he doesn’t have that time. 

“You should find a partner to help you out with the clients,” you propose. 

Jungkook has already considered it but he doesn’t want to hire someone just to have more free time. He wants someone that can truly help him with the shop and the rest, and he’s convinced that it’s not going to be easy. 

“I’m too picky and you know it,” he grabs a fry from the bag and eats it. 

“Then, don’t be,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He rolls his eyes as he takes off the food from the bag and places it on your table. “I don’t want some shitty person to tattoo my clients. So, I'm going to be picky and you're going to support me.” 

You open a drawer, taking two sets of chopsticks with two spoons before putting them on the table. You both sit in front of the other. 

Your eyes get lost in his for a split minute. At first, he might seem the cold type of person. His body is covered with tattoos, his hair is pushed into a man-bun, his fingers are covered with rings and he has some earrings. But it’s just appearances. This man is the sweetest and most caring person you’ve ever met.

A lot of your friends asked you if something is going on between you and Jungkook but you have never seen the man in front of you as more than a friend. Even the thought of it never crossed your mind.   

“But it was a good day,” he says, looking down at his food before he eats some rice. “All the clients were super nice and there was even a cute girl.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the cute girl he met today. Jungkook's love life is quite calm. He's not the type to fuck every girl he sees, he prefers to date, fall in love, and take the time to love. He's just the romantic type of guy. 

“Don't look at me like that, yn,” he says, pointing a chopstick at you. “You’re too curious.” 

He sighs in defeat knowing that no matter what he’s going to tell you everything, and that’s what he likes about your friendship. You understand and know each other so well even though you’ve been friends for only a year, but it feels like you’ve known the other for like an eternity.    

“I just want to know what happened,” you say with a big smile on your face.

“We just talked and she asked me to call her one day,” he notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “You should eat.” 

You take a bit of rice and eat it. Lately, it’s the only thing that you’ve been able to eat without throwing up. 

“And?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to call her?” 

Jungkook is hesitating. Yes, she’s cute and physically, she’s his type. But not too long ago, he was seeing a girl that just left him suddenly because she got back with her ex. He liked her quite a lot and he doesn’t feel ready to go back through all the date nights and the flirting things. 

“Don’t know yet,” he says nonchalantly. 

“You should call her, Kookie. You need to see somebody else other than me,” you tell him. 

“That’s not true, I see Namjoon and Yoongi,” you roll your eyes as he mentions his roommates. 

But Jungkook doesn’t spend too much time at his place with his roommates, he’s mostly with you because he loves to be around you, he loves how you make him feel. Oddly, you make him feel at home. He has never felt that with anybody else and he cherishes your friendship so much. 

His eyes linger on your left arm, smiling as he sees the reason that brought you two together. 

More than a year ago, you decided to get a tattoo and a friend advised you to go to Jungkook. You did some research about him and his work, reading a lot of opinions about him. After a while, you decided that he was the one, he was going to be the one who would do your first tattoo.

For Jungkook, you were just another client, nothing more. But you were kind of scared and nervous, and during the whole time, he was comforting you. It was the first time he was doing it. Usually, his clients hide their fears and put a brave smile on their faces. 

When you saw the lion on your arm, you were so proud and so thankful that he did it. It was just perfect, even better than you had pictured it. 

As he was doing it, he asked you why you chose to tattoo a lion. ‘The lion is known to be the strongest animal, and to me, this tattoo will represent my strength. It will remind me that no matter what life throws at me, I have to be strong.’ 

And he liked it. He liked how you’d look beyond the piece of art on your arm. He liked how he was not just tattooing a simple lion on an arm, he was tattooing your strength. After that, you naturally stayed in touch and you’re just happy to have met him.   

“And did you get any news from Minho?” 

Minho is a guy that you met some weeks ago and with whom you had a lot of fun. It was ephemeral but you had the time of your life with him. You don’t regret anything, you’re just sad that now, it’s over. 

You knew it was never going to last because you are both from two completely different worlds. You’re just a simple girl that barely manages to have some money at the end of the month while he’s one of the wealthiest men in the country. 

He's Park Minho, the son of the one and only Park Joonki. He has tons of holdings around the world and he controls basically everything in Korea. He’s truly very powerful, and the chances that you’d stay in a serious relationship with Minho were very low. 

“Nope, and I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again.” 

“I thought he liked you a lot,” he says while eating. 

You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding. Jungkook was the first one to say to be careful with this kind of guy, and now, he’s kind of being nice to him. 

“He looked at you affectionately, but I just wanted you to be careful.” 

“In the end, we all knew this was just us having fun and nothing more,” you say. 

Even if you’re sad that it ended, you’re kind of grateful that it ended now. Otherwise, you know you would have started hoping for things, and the end of whatever you had with Minho would have been harder for you. 

“You truly deserve someone who loves you like all stars and the moon love nights.” 

A big and bright smile appears on your pale face, and Jungkook swears he has never seen anything prettier. Sometimes, he realizes that he looks at you like a man completely in love. Those moments are not very frequent but when they happen, they hit him hard and it’s very intense. 

You wonder if he knows the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him, Jungkook is just your closest friend. But it's the first time that something touches you that much, not even your exes managed to make you feel that way. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you say, “and you deserve someone that loves you like Juliet loves Romeo.” 

Juliet and Romeo have a tragic love story, but they deeply loved each other. To you, Jungkook deserves to be loved with the same intensity. He deserves someone that would give his heart and soul to him because he’s the best human you’ve ever met. 

“That’s tragic,” he replies. 

You feel the urge to stand up and sit on his lap to caress his dark hair, but it would feel weird since he’s just your best friend. 

“Yes, but she truly and deeply loved him. That’s the love that you deserve.” 

His heart squeezes, and he looks away, feeling uncomfortable to glance straight into your eyes. He never thought that you’ll reply to his comment but he’s just happy you did.   

“Just reach out to that girl, okay?” 

Maybe she’s the one, maybe she’s the girl that Jungkook is meant to be with but he’ll never know it if he doesn’t call her. He raises his head up before nodding. 

“Now, eat. You’re scaring me with that pale face.” 

As he mentions your pale face, you remember the damn pregnancy test. But now isn’t probably the best moment to go and check out the result. You don’t want to worry Jungkook for silly things right now because you’re still convinced that you’re not pregnant. 

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” you say as you stand up and walk in the direction of the bathroom. 

As you enter the small room, you close the door behind you. Your heart is beating hard and fast. Although you think you’re not pregnant, you don’t know how you’ll react if it’s positive. 

You close your eyes and grab the test, your hands are shaking with nervousness. Even if you think that the result will be negative, the thought that it can be positive scares you, and that’s why you close your eyes. The truth is that you don’t even know if you want to open your eyes. 

What would happen if it is positive? What would you become if you’re indeed pregnant? Your life would completely change and you’re just not ready for that kind of change. Two years ago, you left your parents’ house because you wanted to pursue your dream of becoming a lawyer. Your career is on the rise, and a baby would completely ruin it. 

You most probably would have to come back to your parents’ house, and you’re not even sure if they will accept to help you. Having a baby out of a marriage and with someone that you’re not even dating would be seen as a shame for your family.      

Your heart is pounding more and more, it almost feels like it’s about to leave your chest. This simple test can completely change your life. 

“You need to see it, yn,” you whisper to yourself.  

You gather all the strength you have, wanting to know if your life will in fact change forever or if it’ll stay the same. Slowly, you open your eyes. The first thing you see is the reflection of your face in the mirror in front of you. What instantly catches your attention is how sick you look, no wonder that Jungkook seems worried. 

Your eyes gaze down at your fragile and shaking hands that are holding the pregnancy test. A loud cry leaves your mouth and tears roll down your face when you see the result.  

Jungkook runs to the bathroom as he hears you but you have completely locked yourself inside and he can’t open the door. He’s trying to get in because he needs to see you and understand what is going on.  

“Yn,” he says as he’s trying to open the door. “What happened?” 

Your hands let go of the test, making it fall on the ground, and your legs start shaking, barely being able to hold your body. The tears run faster down your face. 

The test is positive. Yongji was right, a human being is indeed growing inside of you. 

It feels like your entire world just collapsed under your feet and nothing could ever fix it. A baby is growing inside you, a human life has been created and that life will forever change your life. You’ll have to carry them for nine months and then, take care of them forever because they will depend entirely on you. 

The fact that you’re pregnant is more than a shock for you. You always took all the precautions for something like that to not happen. All the times you had sex with Minho, he was wearing a condom. You always made sure of it, at least, that's what you thought until today. 

Now, as your world is entirely falling apart, you remember one special night, a night that you had forgotten. Minho came to your apartment after a huge argument with his parents, he was really mad and you both drank a lot of wine. 

His parents wanted him to get back with Yeri and to marry her as soon as possible. Yeri, his ex, is the daughter of another powerful man in Korea. The union of both families will be the best thing. 

But Minho didn't want to be a puppet in his father's hands, he wanted to do things his own way. He wanted to marry the woman that he loves, it was not in his plans to marry just someone because his father craves more power. 

You drank for sure a lot that night and had sex on the couch. You were both so needy of each other, and you can’t remember if you used protection. However, it seems like it wasn’t the case. 

“Yn,” Jungkook calls you again, “open the door, please.” Hearing the concern in his voice breaks your heart. “Please, yn,” he begs, “I’m worried.” 

Jungkook rests his forehead against the door and he finally hears you sobbing and crying. It instantly shatters his heart. He wants to break the door to hold you tight in his arms. 

“My life is over,” you mumble as you cry. “Completely over.” 

He sits on the floor, his back against the door and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t understand what happened and why you suddenly say that.

“What happened?” he dares to ask. 

Your eyes now rest on the door before you sit on the floor and take a deep breath. To say that your life is completely over is an understatement for you. Your parents won’t ever accept you if you have a child without even being married, you’ll be the ugly duckling of the family. They’ll for sure reject you. 

How are you going to tell them that? You never introduced them to a single boy and now, you have to tell them that you’re pregnant with the wealthiest man in the country.  

“I am pregnant.” 

Jungkook is surprised. He knows how careful you are because your career has always been your priority, and having a baby right now was not on your plans. Plus, he knows how important it was for you to get married before having kids. 

“Minho?” he asks just to be sure. 

“Yes.” 

Your confirmation breaks his heart once again. Your friend knows that there’s no hope that Minho would help you with this. 

“Everything is over for me, Kook,” you cry even more now. “My parents will disgrace me, and Minho will never recognize this child as his because of his family.”        

The reality is hard to admit and it will be so hard to face this situation all by yourself. You’ll be completely alone in this and your baby will never know their families, they’ll just know you.

“I’ll be alone in this,” you add. 

You’re convinced your family will let you down because you’ll have a baby out of marriage. 

“No,” he replies straight away. “I’ll be by your side and I’ll never leave you.”

Even if you’re grateful for his presence, he can’t change the fact that it’s not going to be an easy thing.  

“It’s not the same, Kook,” you reply. 

Your friend is perfectly aware that he can’t ever replace the fact that Minho will never be present or that your family will most probably leave you. 

“Let me in, yn.” 

Right now, you just want to be alone in this bathroom for the rest of your life. 

“I want to hug you and comfort you.” 

After some seconds of hesitation, you finally open the door to fall in his arms. Nothing can comfort you at this moment, not even his strong arms holding you tight and pressing you against his body. Nothing. 

OCTOBER 6, 2018 

Yesterday, Jungkook stayed with you until you fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to leave you in this state, you were a mess and as your friend, he felt like it was his duty to be by your side. 

Jungkook didn’t sleep much during the night, thinking too much about your situation. He wants to help you as much as he can but he feels like there is nothing that he can do. He feels like the only thing he can do is to powerlessly watch your life fall completely apart. But that’s something he can’t accept.  

Someone knocks at your door, and without much willingness, you open it. To your surprise, it is Jungkook. You thought that he was going to leave you alone for a little while, giving you the time to adjust to your new reality. 

“Hi,” he says while entering your apartment. “I haven’t slept much and drank too much coffee before coming.” 

That explains why he looks tired and why his eyes are red. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you frown while you close the door. 

Jungkook finally turns and looks at you. You seem even worse than yesterday, which is totally understandable.

“I canceled all my appointments for the morning,” he replies and you look at him with worry. 

Why did he do that? He hates to do it. Even when he’s sick, he works because he hates to disappoint his clients. ‘There must be something really important that he needs to do,’ you thought.

You come closer to him, crossing your arms over your chest. His heart is pounding fast and now, he’s wondering if what he has in mind is actually a good idea.  

“I’ll be the father,” he quickly says, causing you to raise an eyebrow, not sure you understood what he just said. 

“What?” 

He takes a step in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. “Minho will never recognize your baby. His father will never let him do that, or he’ll make sure to make you disappear just to hide the mistake of his perfect son.” 

For that, you totally agree with him. Park Joonki will do everything in his power to hide you and your baby, and power is something that he has in abundance. 

“Your baby will grow up without a father figure, and I’ll be by your side as long as we live. I am your closest male friend and most probably, your baby will end up seeing me as their father.” 

For Jungkook, the chances that your baby ends up calling him ‘dad’ are very high. 

“Nobody needs to know that Minho is the biological father,” he says as he takes one of your hands in his. “And I think for your safety, it’s better if nobody knows.” 

You just can’t believe that he’s ready to do this for you. What kind of friend is he? A superhero? You don’t clearly know yet, but the simple fact that he wants to help and protect you just proves that he’s the best person you’ve ever met. 

“You know, I was actually thinking of hiding it from Minho and his super-powerful family,” you mention while caressing his hand. “It’ll be easier for everyone.” 

“No, yn, it’s not going to be easy for you,” he replies. “And for the baby.” 

You still can’t believe that inside of you a human being is growing and that one day, you’ll birth them. That same person will be a part of you and they’ll only exist thanks to you. It’s just incredible but it feels like it is just too much for you at the moment. 

“I can’t just let you take a role that is not yours,” you say to him. “I can’t let you be the father of a child that is not even biologically yours, and I won’t let you sacrifice your life because I was careless.” 

You just can’t accept this. Jungkook will have to put on hold his romantic life because he’ll be too busy to be the father of someone else’s baby. 

“I’m not sacrificing my life, yn,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t sit and watch your life fall apart. Minho will probably never accept to be the father of your baby, and we don’t know yet how your family will react. But I know one thing, no matter what, this situation will destroy you.” 

You close your eyes, trying to hold back some tears. This is already destroying you. You’re going to be a mother, a moment that is supposed to be the happiest one of your life, and yet, you’re losing everything because of it. 

“My love life is dead, and sometimes, I even wonder if girls look beyond my body. They just want to have sex with me because I look like a bad boy when it’s not what I am looking for in life,” he explains. “So, I’ll be the father of your baby for you.” 

“No, Jungkook,” you shake your head and turn your back to him. “I won’t let you sacrifice everything.” 

You feel his body pressed against yours, his head resting on your shoulder and his arms enveloping your body in his strong arms. 

“I am proposing this to you, I thought about it a lot and I am just ready to do it,” he murmurs in your ear. “I’ll do anything for you, yn.” 

Those last words send shivers down your spine. 

“But I’ll give you some time to think about it, and when you’ll feel ready, you’ll just give me an answer,” he whispers and you nod. 

You stay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the presence of the other. 

If you accept his proposition, you know that Jungkook will be an excellent father. He’s just so carrying and loving, and having him as their father will for sure be a good thing. But there is no need to recognize them as his child. No matter what you decide, he’ll be the father figure of your baby. 

OCTOBER 13, 2018

A week passed since Jungkook proposed to you that weird idea. 

You’ve come back to work, trying to keep your mind busy and to not think only about your pregnancy. At the moment, nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You just don’t know what to do, you’re just too lost. You decided that until you haven’t decided yet what to do with Jungkook’s proposition, you won’t tell anything to anyone. 

Not even Yongji is aware of the fact that she was right all along. 

When you enter the restaurant, you see your friend sitting at a table alone, and you join him. A bright smile stretches across his lips as he sees you coming. For the first time in a week, you’re smiling. A smile that only Jungkook can bring out. 

You haven’t seen him in a week because you didn’t want his presence to influence your decision. You knew that his big doe eyes would influence you or even his presence. With him, you always feel safe and happy. He’d make you say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.  

But it feels good to see him after all this time. Life felt empty without him by your side and time seemed to move slowly. You missed him, more than a lot.   

He quickly stands up and he pushes back the chair in front of him so that you can take a seat. “Hi, yn!”  

As your eyes linger on him, you notice how his dark long hair is partially pushed back, revealing his undercut, and he’s wearing a white cotton shirt instead of his usual sweaters. It’s a slightly see-through shirt as some of his tattoos can be seen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing it on purpose. Is he teasing you? 

You swipe that thought away, you’re convinced that Jungkook only loves you like a friend and that he wouldn’t do such a thing.   

“Hello, Kook.” 

Being now in front of him, you can smell his strong perfume. Y Eau de Parfum from Yves Saint-Laurent. You offered him that perfume some time ago, and since then, he has been putting it but only on special events. 

Knowing it makes you feel special. So special. 

You take a seat, your smile never fading away. The knuckles of his fingers brush against your back, giving you goosebumps. This is for sure new for you, never have you felt that with Jungkook. 

Quickly, he walks to his chair and sits in front of you. Although your bodies are still a bit far from the other, his knees skim yours, giving you more goosebumps.     

“Wow, you look all good!” you say with a bright smile on your face. 

“You look even better,” he licks his lips as his eyes look down on you. 

From the moment you entered that restaurant, Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off you.  

Since you were going out with your best friend, you decided to put on a beige dress with long sleeves. It’s a beautiful dress that you use quite often when you go out and you know Jungkook likes it. That’s actually the reason you’re wearing it. It’s cold outside, at this time of the year, it’s always too cold, and so, you’re also wearing long boots. 

From the outside, it really looks like you’re both on a date while you’re just going to decide about the future of your baby.  

“Why a restaurant?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Yesterday, you asked him if it’d be possible to meet tonight at a restaurant. Usually, you both don’t go out alone, there is also someone else but you simply want to get out of your apartment for just a moment. 

“Just wanted to be out of my apartment.” 

His eyes are filled with a lot of brightness, it’s like they are sparkling, and you feel something inside you that you can’t quite explain. It’s like it is the first time that you’re seeing your friend, and this feeling inside you is something you have never felt around him.   

Actually, you felt it with Minho but this is stronger. So much stronger. 

Jungkook can’t help but find you super attractive, and to him, you’re glowing like never before. He’s wondering if it’s related to your pregnancy or if you’ve always been shining but he never noticed it. 

“Let’s take a look at the menu,” you suggest, trying to look away from him, and he nods. His eyes on you are making you uncomfortable and it makes you wonder what you need to do. You take the menu and read what this restaurant has to offer. 

After your proposal to go out, Jungkook offered to come here, one of his favorite places. This is the first time you’re coming to this restaurant.     

A couple of minutes later, a waiter arrives at your table and asks what you’re going to take. It’s an Italian restaurant and a lasagna is the meal that you choose, you haven’t eaten one in ages. 

When the waiter leaves, you focus again on your friend. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your proposition, and I’ve made up my mind.” 

He just nods, encouraging you to keep talking. He doesn’t want to interrupt you, scared that you’ll change your mind in the middle. 

“I think you’re right,” you bite the inside of your cheek, you’re a bit nervous. “No matter what, you’ll be around and for sure, you’ll be the father figure of the baby. For sure, Minho will never be around, his family will never let him recognize a child he had with some random girl.” 

There is no need to be a genius to know that. However, Jungkook was the first one to understand that. 

“Having you as their legal father will be helpful for everything.”  

The man in front of you listens carefully but a feeling of happiness grows inside him. In some way, he kind of expected that you’d accept his proposition but he was skeptical. 

“But in the future, I don’t want to hide it to our child.” 

This last week, you realize that it’s better if your baby is in fact recognize as Jungkook’s child. Not only would they grow up with a father but if something happens, he’ll be able to make decisions without you being there. You don’t even doubt that he’d take the right decisions, no matter what. 

But if your baby grows up thinking that Jungkook is their biological father, it would eventually end up bad. They need to know that they have a biological father that is not the same as their actual father. 

“I don’t want secrets between the three of us.” 

For Jungkook, it’s totally understandable. He can imagine the shock someone can feel when they found out years later that the man that raised them is not their biological father. Telling the truth as soon as possible is for sure the best decision. 

However, he’s delighted that you accepted his proposition, and he’s more than happy to become a father. All he wants to do right now is jump off happiness and scream to the world that he’ll become a father. 

It’s something he has desired his entire life. Since a very young age, he dreamed of having two kids, a boy, and a girl but he always thought that he’d found the love of his life before. He never imagined that his love life would become a disaster as it is right now. The lack of luck on that field made him give up on his dream. 

Now, you’re changing everything.  

“I will of course say to everyone that you’re the father, I won’t ever mention Minho to anyone.” 

If you hide Minho from everyone, they’ll never know that he’s the biological father of the child you’re carrying. Nobody will raise questions and it’s a lot better like that. 

“I don’t know what the future holds but I’ll forever be thankful that you’ll take on the role of Minho.” 

During this past week, you tried to contact Minho a couple of times but you never heard anything from him. His family is most probably managing to convince him to do whatever they want or he just simply doesn’t want to speak with you anymore. 

And it just breaks your heart because you wanted to tell him that you’re pregnant with his child. You wanted to tell him that he’s going to be a father. But you know that most probably he’ll never find out about your baby’s existence. 

“As I told you, I’ll do anything for you, yn,” he replies with a small grin. “And now, that includes the small human growing in your womb.” 

You reach for his hand and hold it tight, the warmth of his hand on yours is pleasurable. You feel the urge to caress the top of his hand with his thumb. Your eyes get lost in his gaze, and never before have you felt this good.

You owe everything to the man in front of you. Without any doubt, you know that life will be much easier with him by your side. You won’t be scared of the future because he’ll help you deal with whatever may happen to your baby. A baby that is now his. 

“Our baby,” you mumble. 

Hearing you say that makes it feel real. Jungkook realizes that he’s really going to be a father. You will forever be linked to your closest friend. It doesn’t scare you at all because you know that he’ll be the best father for your baby, even better than Minho. 

“Our baby,” he repeats with a big and bright smile on his face. 

The fact that you’re pregnant is something that still feels unreal. You guess that you’ll only realize it when your baby bump will start growing or maybe when you’ll see your baby for the first time on an ultrasound. 

The dinner went well and you’re both super happy, looking forward to seeing what the future holds for both of you. 

You just left the restaurant, walking now to your apartment that isn’t really far but Jungkook wants to be sure that you safely arrive at your place. Now, he has to take care of you and your baby. Things have changed and he doesn't want something bad to happen to you.  

As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body, and never before it has happened. 

“You really don't have to take me home.” 

Jungkook stops, looking at you. “I want to be sure nothing happens to you on your way home.” 

You can't help but smile at his words. Tonight, the simple fact that he takes you home warms your heart although you’re perfectly aware that he would have done it any other day or with anybody. Jungkook has always been such a gentleman. 

“I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby,” his dark eyes glare down on your body, halting at your stomach, and his right-hand grabs your left one, stroking your hand with his thumb. 

“For sure, nothing will happen to me or our baby with you.” 

You lean closer and press a soft kiss on his cheek. Both of you feel butterflies down your stomach as your lips touch his skin, and even when your lips leave the skin of his cheek, he still senses them. His dark orbs are totally hypnotized by your sweet face. 

In the dark of the night, your face sparkles, and the smile that starts to appear lights your face even more. Jungkook wants to take a picture of your face right now and spend the rest of his life looking at it, remembering just how twinkling you are right now.   

You take the opportunity that his hand is holding yours to intertwine your fingers before you start walking again, still with a bright smile on your face. 

Since you found out that you were pregnant, it’s actually the first time that you’re happy about it, and it’s all thanks to Jungkook. Seeing you this happy delights him. He just can't wait to see your womb swell but he's even more impatient to meet the baby. 

You quickly arrive home. Once in front of the building, you stop but still keep your fingers entwined. You look at each other and you feel like you're sixteen again. It's like you're with your crush for the first time although Jungkook is just your close friend. However, now the father of your child.

“I just don’t know what to say to you,” you sincerely say to him. “You are the father of my baby just because you don't want my life to fall apart and I don't think somebody else will ever do that to me.” 

You perfectly know that nobody else would have proposed to be the father of your baby just to protect you from the biological father’s family. Somebody else would have maybe never thought about it. 

Jungkook's eyes look down at you and his free hand caresses your cheek. 

“As I’ve been saying, I’ll do anything for you without any hesitation.” 

As you look up at him, you’re aware that you are both looking at the other differently, making you wonder if you always have felt something more than just friendship for him but never noticed it.  

Your hand leaves his and holds his waist tight as you crash your body against his, your head falling against his chest. The silence of the night is quickly replaced by the sound of his heartbeat pounding fast under his broad chest.

To say that you're thankful is an understatement. You don't know what could have happened if he had never suggested being the father. Most probably your family would have been ashamed of you, Minho's father would have given you money to abort or would have done everything to hide you, and you’d be alone, crying for being stupid enough to get yourself knocked up. 

“I am so thankful to have met you,” he whispers in your ear. “My life was so bland before you.” 

Your arms tighten even more around his waist, loving every word he said. Jungkook smiles, thinking that he must look like a total idiot right now. 

“Let’s get inside,” you say to him, “it’s too cold.” 

He nods before you both head to the building. You take the stairs as you live on the first floor, it's faster than using the elevator. You open the door and let Jungkook enter. 

“Do you want to drink something?” you ask him as you take your coat off.  

Jungkook stays at your apartment’s entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are on you as you turn the lights on and ask him if he wants to drink.

You’re beautiful in every way to him. The dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out but this time, it’s different. You’re not just his friend anymore. You’re the mother of his unborn child. 

Jungkook realizes that he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you. He’s even wondering if the small glass of wine that he drank at the restaurant is causing this all. Without the wine would he be looking at you like that? 

“No, thanks,” he answers, shaking his head. “I think I drank too much already.” 

A small chuckle leaves your throat, thinking about the only glass of wine he took. Jungkook usually drinks way more than just a glass, you have already got drunk together after a miserable day. You can tell that he’s totally sober right now. 

“What makes you giggle?” he cocks a brow. 

“It was just a glass,” you answer with a smile on your face. “That was literally nothing for you.” 

He rolls his eyes, a smile appearing on his face. 

“You don’t even know if I drank something before seeing you.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow. You’re not convinced at all by his little lie. 

“I’ve already seen you completely drunk, Kook,” you say. “I know what you look like when you drink too much.” 

“You’re annoying, yn.”  

“But you love me,” you’re still smiling at him before hugging him again. It feels good to be in his strong arms, more than good actually. 

Jungkook is also liking it a lot but before things get out of control, he just takes a step back. He’s scared to do or say something that he’ll regret. Right now, happiness is taking control of his body but he has to be careful. This feeling is maybe just temporary.   

“Maybe, I should get going,” he says. 

“No, don’t go,” you pout. 

You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay and hold you in his strong arms, feeling his warm body against yours. You have never craved so much his touch as you do right now, and it scares you a lot. 

This is new to you, wondering if it is real. You’re pregnant, your hormones are most probably all over the place and the man in front of you is going to be the father of your child. All those elements can cloud your judgment at the moment.  

“Stay just a little bit more,” you add. 

Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest before your little hands rest on his forearms. Your big eyes can’t stop looking into his, waiting for an answer. To him, it’s like you’re a small kid begging their parents to let them do whatever they want. But you’re just extremely adorable. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

He hates the power you have over him, you don’t have to do much to have him wrapped around your finger. He won’t say ‘no’ to anything you’ll ask.  

“You know I’ll give you what you want.” 

A smile appears on your face. 

“Can we watch a movie?” 

He nods before taking his jacket off and putting it on the coat hanger. You grab his hand, guiding him through your small apartment to get to the living room.  

“I’ll let you choose the movie while I’ll get us some snacks and drinks.” 

You disappear into your kitchen while Jungkook sits on your couch to choose the movie. You’ve already seen so many movies together that it feels like you have already seen all of them. 

Quickly you come back with some biscuits and drinks. He notices that you didn’t bring him any beer or alcohol which he's thankful for. He’s way too scared of what he could do with alcohol. You put everything on the coffee table, Jungkook’s eyes watching every one of your moves. You take a seat next to him, getting comfortable by his side.

“I choose some random shit that we haven’t seen yet,” he informs you. 

The movie that he chose isn’t important to you, all you care about is to spend more time with your baby daddy. This attraction you’re feeling for your friend is getting to be more obvious to you. You crave more, and you simply can’t deny it.  

Jungkook slowly comprehends that right now he’s loving you way more than a friend. The entire night, he was having doubts about it but feeling you sitting next to him gives him the time to realize things. 

The way he’s dressed is all for you and to get your attention. He never wore a see-through shirt because he knew that his dates would start flirting too much just to get laid, which was something he didn’t want. But wearing it tonight was like a sign from his subconscious, telling him that he didn’t actually mind getting laid. 

Nonetheless, you’re also wearing his favorite dress. A clear sign that he didn’t miss. He can’t help but think that you know what you were going to do to him. Jungkook isn’t wrong at all. At any other moment, you wouldn’t have put that dress on. Deep down, all you were hoping was to ruin the friendship.  

You’re sitting close to him, your leg pressed against his, and both of you try as hard as possible to focus on the movie. But neither of you can’t stop glancing at the other. 

Nevertheless, it seems that fate desires to bring you together, and the two characters of the movie start to make out heavily. Jungkook's face instantly heats up, completely embarrassed while your body completely freezes. That was for sure something unexpected, especially when you’re realising that you’re probably having a massive crush on the man sitting next to you. 

A piece of slow and romantic music plays in the background of the kissing scene. This only puts you both into the mood of the scene. The tension between you and Jungkook is heavily growing. 

The two of you ignore what to do as you’re both embarrassed by the way your bodies are reacting to a simple kissing scene. You’re just thankful that it’s not a sex scene otherwise you’d be hiding under the couch, ashamed to be completely turned on. 

This is becoming harder to handle as it becomes obvious that this scene is turning you on. You rub your thighs together, craving his touch more and more. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. Jungkook’s body is as tense as yours, you perfectly understand that he’s in the same state as you. 

“Kook,” your voice is barely audible but he hears you and finally looks at you. The first thing he sees is how desperate you are for him. 

“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

The movie is completely forgotten. There are just the two of you and nothing else. The tension between you two is at its highest and what’s going to follow next will only depend on the two of you. Are you going to give in or not? Are you going to ruin your friendship? 

“I can’t, JK.” 

Your heart is pounding hard, ready to burst at any minute. Jungkook’s eyes go from your eyes down to your lips, resting a little too much on them. He’s wondering what they feel like and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to taste them.  

To you, it is more than evident that he wants to kiss you. So, you decide to be the boldest one, leaning closer to him, and he knows what’s coming, swallowing hard and biting his lower lip. He desperately wants it so he doesn’t move at all as you lean closer. 

However, for Jungkook, you’re moving too slow and he decides to close the gap for you, his lips finally meeting yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he kisses you like a desperate man. It simply feels like you’ve never kissed somebody before.   

The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you. 

As you’re kissing him with love and passion, you realize that since day one Jungkook was more than just a friend. There has always been a connection so strong between you that definitely was more than friendship but you always ignored it. The spark between you was slowly growing stronger and stronger until the moment it would inevitably blow up. That moment is happening right now. It just completely exploded unexpectedly, and god, it’s just so pleasurable.   

Jungkook pulls you onto his lap as he craves to feel more friction. That action lifts your dress up, revealing the skin of your legs. He’s craving to feel you in every possible way and bringing your body this close is completely driving him crazy. Both of you are panting hard but it clearly doesn’t matter. 

You keep wanting more and more.

As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, to reveal his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in the full display just for you. It’s not the first time you’re seeing his chest and tattoos, but it’s the first time that you’re looking at his body with lust. 

You instantly touch his covered tattooed skin. He has quite a lot of tattoos but there are still some uncovered parts. The ink on his body adds a lot of sensuality to him, and now, it becomes quite clear why all those girls are always so needy around him. He looks like a bad boy, but it’s one with the biggest heart you’ve ever met. 

Jungkook shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. You press your lips against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants and he’s growing harder underneath you. 

You open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, finally meeting yours. You moan at the feeling, and unintentionally, he flexes his toned thigh. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it makes you moan again. 

This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands go down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms and his hands feel huge on your body.  

Before doing anything else, he pulls one of his legs out from under you in order for you to adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook has now a proper view of your black panties, and your clothed pussy is brushing now against his dark pants. 

Both of you know where this is going but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, yn,” hegroans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.  

He presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels more than good, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook wants to have sex with you. 

This is totally unusual for him but all this situation is different. You’re not just a flirt that he met some days or weeks ago, you’ve been his closest friend for more than a year. He doesn’t doubt that beyond the physical attraction you love him for who he is. 

As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more. 

“I like how you’re riding my thigh, butterfly,” he whispers against your lips. “But I want to feel you properly.”  

One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh.  

Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy. 

“I love to hear you moan, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

He just knows what to say and when to do it. He loves to be in charge, that’s obvious and that is a surprising thing for you. You never thought Jungkook would be this type of man. He looks so gentle and adorable all the time that you thought that he’d be the sub type. 

His length is getting harder and tighter on his pants, he needs to do something about it otherwise he’ll explode completely. 

“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with evident desperation in his voice. 

Before you can even process what he said, he inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s a bit thick, but not too much though, and as well long but again not too long. It’s clearly not how you pictured the crotch of your friend. This sight alone gets you wetter.    

You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length. 

“Damn,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, butterfly,” he comments. 

The little butterfly nickname brings actual butterflies in your lower stomach. It’s such an adorable nickname even though it’s said in the middle of a naughty time. 

You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and for sure, you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.  

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, butterfly.”  

Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth. He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand. 

“Fuck, butterfly,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.” 

You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close. 

“Kook,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!” 

The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you violently and you feel your orgasm in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling.  

The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand. 

You hide your face on the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes. 

Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from what happened. Jungkook senses it but doesn’t say anything as he enjoys having you in his arms. 

As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan a bit. “I’m just putting back my pants, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear.  

He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in your bed, you’ll be better.” 

“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.” 

He stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in your bedroom, he carefully places you in your bed before laying next to you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms.       

OCTOBER 15, 2018

For the past two days, Jungkook has been living in your place, only leaving you to go to work. Having him around you all the time has been helping you to embrace and accept this pregnancy even more.  

The first appointment with the obstetrician has already been taken and you’re super excited to discover your baby. But most importantly, you want to know if nothing is wrong with them, their health is what worries you the most. 

You don’t know exactly how far you’re on this pregnancy, and in the past weeks, there has been some alcohol consumption. That is leaving you wondering if it affected their growth and you just want to be sure that the baby is in fact good health.     

Although everything seems to be fine, you and Jungkook haven’t spoken about what happened two days ago. Indeed, just the thought of what happened makes you a bit uncomfortable. But you need to speak about it, you’re going to be parents and you can’t just ignore the feelings you have. 

“Kook?” you say as you sit in front of him at the wooden table of the kitchen. 

As usual, he’s wearing a large shirt with some training pants but his hair isn’t pushed into a man-bun as he has been doing it quite a lot lately. This simple outfit gives him some sexiness, and you know that in a long term, you won’t be able to resist his natural charm.  

“Mmm,” he says looking at you. 

“Can we speak about what happened two days ago?” 

You’re scared that if you don’t bring the conversation up, he would never do it. When it comes to feelings, Jungkook is always the first one to hide which means that you have to be the bravest one. 

The man in front of you swallows hard when he hears your question. Of course, he prefers to avoid the subject since he’s a bit ashamed of what happened. But he knows how important it is to communicate.    

“We really need to, JK,” you can see in his eyes that he’s not comfortable. “We are going to have a baby, and being scared of speaking about certain topics is clearly not the best thing to do.”

“I know, yn,” he answers. “I’m just ashamed of how needy I was for you.” 

You decide to stand up, walking to him, and sitting in his lap. Your fingers brush his long hair, that part of him is one of your weaknesses. You never thought you’d be into long-haired men but here you are, loving Jungkook’s long hair. 

As you sit on his lap, he remembers how well you made him feel when you were riding his thigh.   

“Don’t be ashamed,” your eyes look into his dark orbs. “We both wanted it.” 

One of your hands goes down on his face to caress his soft skin. 

“I never expected to feel more than friendship for you, JK. Never,” his eyes never leave yours, scared that if he closes his eyes, you’ll disappear. “But I liked everything I felt that day and how you made me feel.” 

His heart is slowly starting to pound fast.  

“Nobody made me feel the way you did, and I was only riding your thigh.” 

You don’t even want to imagine how he could make you feel with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“I want to feel that every day, Jungkook.” 

You’re not ashamed to tell him that you desire more. More of his lips on you, more of his hands on your body, more of his touch. More of him. You want to get addicted again and again until all your mind can think of is him.  

“You know that if we do that again, we can’t be just friends anymore.” 

That limit seems to have already been exceeded. It happened the moment you found out you were pregnant and he proposed to be the father. That gesture proved that he’d go beyond everything to protect you. 

“We already ruin our friendship,” you slightly push some of his hair back. “We stopped being friends the moment we decided to kiss each other.” 

His eyes go down to your lips, remembering the way they were kissing him two nights ago. It felt like entering heaven. Since that night, he can’t stop thinking of your lips on his. 

“Be my boyfriend, Jungkook,” you tell him. “Don’t be just my baby’s daddy.”    

It’s the first time a girl asks him to date her, but the boldness of your suggestion doesn’t even surprise him. Between the two of you, you’ve always been the boldest, and he has always liked it.  

He wants to be more than just your friend and experienced love with you. God, there are so many things that have crossed his mind after that night and in all of them, you were his girlfriend.  

“You know you already have me wrapped around your finger,” his hands slide down to your waist, bringing you closer to him and holding you firmly against his hips. You can feel his bulge just under your core, and he’s not even hard.   

Jungkook hates when he’s not in control, but with you, most of the time, you’re the one in charge. He’ll do whatever you want him to do. 

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he adds. “If you want me to be your sex friend, I’ll be it and if you want more, I’ll give you more.” 

Without any second thoughts, you kiss him with passion. You want him to be more than just a partner with whom you have fun. The love you both feel for each other is just too strong. 

“I want to be your girlfriend, Jungkook,” you whisper on his lips. “I want to give you all the love you deserve.” Your thumb caresses his cheek. “You deserve the love of Juliet.” 

A smile spreads across his face, remembering the time you told him that he deserves to be loved like Juliet loved Romeo. Although it was a tragic love story, he wants to know a love as strong as that one.   

“And you deserve the love of all the stars and the moon.” 

Jungkook kisses you once again. This is something he never expected, to start dating you the moment he becomes a father. 

JANUARY 17, 2019

For the past three months, a lot has changed. 

Jungkook has moved on to your place because everything will be easier if you live in the same apartment. Since he was sharing his with Namjoon and Yoongi, it was evident that you were not going to live with him and his roommates. 

Your relationship is slowly getting stronger as days pass. Not much has changed. You spend more time together now and kiss a lot. There’s a lot of oral sex but no penetrative sex yet. There isn’t any real reason behind it, you’re just comfortable with the oral sex at the moment and you know that there will be more when you’ll feel ready. 

To everyone, you have both announced that you were going to have a baby together. The reactions were overall positives. Both of your parents were more than happy and excited to become grandparents. Your parents were a bit tougher because you’re not married, but they still accept it since you’re together. But your mother, as well as his, started to cry as they realized that their babies were going to have a baby.  

Your siblings were just thrilled to have a niece or nephew tin the way. The feeling was shared by your friends, some were just surprised that you were having a kid when you used to describe each other as just friends. 

Yongji was the one that was a bit more skeptical at first, not truly believing it but you managed to convince her. This little secret, you just want to keep it between the two of you for the moment. You have to admit that you were scared of her reaction. What would she say? Would she still support you if she knows? And as selfish as it sounds, you want to have your best friend by your side during all your pregnancy.     

Nobody knows or even suspects that Minho is the biological father of the baby you’re carrying. And it’s better like that, especially since the Park family announced publicly that Minho is going to marry Yeri in July. 

You still keep trying to contact him but less than at the beginning. It’s clear now that he’s never going to reach out for you, he’s back with Yeri and he will start a family with her. You’re convinced that this was all meant to be. Minho will never know that he got you pregnant and that he created a human being with you. 

“Can I help you?”  

You finished work a bit earlier today, there wasn’t much work to do today and you decided that it’d be the perfect occasion to visit Jungkook’s store. 

The man in front of you asking if he can help you must be the new partner of your boyfriend.  

Last month, he decided to listen to you and found a partner to help him out. Of course, he was picky, and it took him a little while to find the perfect partner. Ironically, his partner is named Park Jimin. 

Jungkook has been praising him a lot, and you’re more than happy to see that this partnership is working perfectly. There are even more clients now but your boyfriend finds more time to work on his personal projects. 

“I am here for Jungkook,” you say with a smile on your face. 

“Do you have any appointment?” he asks politely. 

“No, I am his girlfriend.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Jimin says before bowing to you. “I didn’t know.” 

“Don’t worr,” you still smile at him.

“He’s still working but he should be almost over.” 

You nod before thanking him for the information. He proposes to you something to drink or to eat but you politely decline. You’ve already eaten a lot today, this crazy baby has been giving you the wildest cravings and you know that if you start eating now, you won’t be able to stop. 

Your stomach is slightly swollen but with all the layers of clothes you’re wearing, it’s not even noticeable. Your baby has been growing a lot lately which leads to your stomach swelling a lot too. You’re certain that in some days, even with all the clothes you put to protect yourself from the cold weather, you won't be able to hide your baby bump anymore. 

You were about to take a seat in one of the chairs in the entrance when a man comes from behind with Jungkook following him. The man checks you out quickly but your boyfriend notices it and by the way his jaw clenches, you bet that he doesn’t like it. 

Another young lady enters, and Jimin takes care of her while the man pays for what Jungkook did on his body before leaving the store. Jimin disappears behind with the girl, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. 

His hair is pushed back into a man-bun, a large grey shirt covering his toned torso while ripped blue skinny jeans cover his long legs. This view is more than mouthwatering. This hot man standing in front of you is all yours. 

“Hi, butterfly,” he finally breaks the silence between the two of you. 

“Hi,” you smile at him. Watching him like that, all you want to do is make love with him until you forget your own name. 

Jungkook walks closer to you, offering you a soft smile. “I was not expecting you,” his thumb finds its way to your cheek, caressing it like you’re made of glass. 

“I wanted to surprise you.”    

Jungkook leans his face closer to yours, his breath brushing your skin. “It’s definitely a good surprise, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your boyfriend is a master in teasing and turning you on with a few words. He can literally say “car” and it’ll turn you on. You don’t know how he does it but what’s sure is that he’s a master in making you weak. 

Pulling back a little, he stares into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with heat and passion and you already know where this is going. The only problem is that you’re in his store and all the passers-by can see the two of you. 

“I have twenty minutes before my next client,” he says on your lips. “We could make good use of those twenty minutes,” he suggests before taking your hand and guiding you to the back of his shop. 

You enter his private room, the one where he works on his personal projects and where he eats during his small breaks. There is a couch on the left corner, a small table with two chairs, and a fridge on the right corner. It’s a small room but he doesn’t need much more. 

Jungkook closes the door so nobody can come in and disturb you for the next few minutes. There’s music playing in the room. Often from The Weeknd. The song sets the mood clearly.  

Your lips meet once again for a languid kiss. You want him so much, and you desire so much more than just his tongue and fingers.   

You want him to insert himself inside you. 

“I want you, Kook,” you whisper in between kisses. 

He breaks the kiss before looking at you. “Take your jacket and pants off.” 

You don’t have much time to have sex, and it’s better if you start undressing. So, Jungkook takes his clothes off quickly while you undress too. You struggle a bit more since you’re carrying a little human inside your body. 

He opens one drawer from the little furniture next to the couch, taking a condom from it. The sight of the condom surprised you.  

“Why do you have a condom here?” you ask while frowning. You’re half-naked and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I kind of hoped that one day you’d come and we’d get laid here.” 

This little confession from your boyfriend is surprising. So, all this time he was dreaming of having sex with you on that couch and never said anything to you. 

“You’re very surprising when it comes to sex,” you admit. 

“Everybody has their own little fantasies,” he replies back. 

“But why are you even taking a condom?” you ask him, a bit confused. 

You’re pregnant, and the condom is completely useless. You are both healthy, nothing can happen if he penetrates you. 

“We don’t want you to get pregnant while pregnant,” he answers. 

His answer makes you giggle, and he arches a brow while tilting his head as he does not understand what is making you giggle. 

“I can’t get pregnant while being pregnant, babe,” you tell him. 

“I read some articles that it can happen.” 

Jungkook has been deeply involved in this pregnancy. He clearly doesn’t want to just give his name to your baby to protect you, he wants to be the best partner for you and father for the baby. He has been reading a lot of pregnancy books, and he even chats with some other dads on blogs. 

When you found out that some weeks ago, you felt lucky. Lucky to share this with him and to have him by your side. You know he’ll never let you down, and even if the worst happened, he’d give his best to be the father your child deserves. 

“The chances are very low, babe.” 

This is for sure a question you’ll ask your obstetrician on your next appointment. However, you strongly believe that it would never happen. 

“But there’s a risk and I don’t want to take it.” 

He’ll gladly make love to you without a condom but he knows how hard it will be for you if you get pregnant while being pregnant. He sees how sometimes it is hard for you with just one baby, and if he could, he’d be the one carrying the baby. 

But the reality is different, and your body is the one bearing his child. So, he’ll do anything and everything to make your life easier. And wearing a condom will for sure make it easier.    

“Now, take your shirt off, I want to see your swollen stomach.” 

Since your stomach started to show, Jungkook adores to see it. Not only does he speak with the baby but he also caresses it. He wants to connect with his child before they arrive. He wants them to recognize him. For him, it’s the way to get really involved. However, he has also developed some sort of weird kink. He also likes to see your belly when you have sexual interactions. 

You do as he says, revealing your upper body to him. Your boyfriend stares at your body, the prettiest one he has ever seen. The fact that you’re bearing his baby makes you even more marvelous to him.      

“You’re so wonderful, butterfly.”  

Your boyfriend guides both your bodies to the couch, sitting on the couch while you sit astride him, your ass pressed against his length and letting your legs rest on either side of his body. Your stomach is pressed against his, and he loves the feeling. 

His lips find yours for another passionate kiss, your hands cupping his adorable cheeks while his hands go down on your body, caressing every inch of you. 

His lips break the kiss. “I didn’t like the way the client checked you out.” 

His little jealousy is something that you find very cute because it’s little. Sometimes, he just says some things like that and you can’t help but find it adorable. 

“I could say the same about all the girls that check you out when you walk in the streets.” 

Jungkook is terribly handsome, you’re very aware of it. You can’t go for a walk with your boyfriend without having all the girls checking him out. Jealousy is something you constantly feel but you trust him. You know he loves you and he would never do something to break your trust.     

You kiss him again fervently, wanting to taste his lips over and over again. Slowly your lips go down to his neck and you decide to mark him as yours. You softly suck his skin and to your surprise he let you do it. He knows that you just want to let all the girls know that he’s already taken.  

You feel the rumble of his chest as he starts to groan, and you feel his hands lay on your waist. Accidentally, your ass grinds against his length, and a groan leaves his lips.

“Fuck, butterfly.” 

Once you’re done with the little hickey, you lick the sensitive spot and smirk, happy with what you just did. 

His fingers find their way underneath your chin and lift it up. He wants his face to be the only thing you look at right now. His eyes are sparkling a lot and you know that you could forever get lost in his eyes. 

His lips find yours for yet another kiss and you could kiss him forever without getting sick of it. His tongue licks your lips, inviting you to open up your mouth for him. His tongue explores the insides of your mouth, making you moan into his mouth. 

“I need you, Kook,” you gasp as you feel yourself getting wetter. “I really need you, now.”  

Right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You don’t want him to lick or finger you until you’re coming hard as well as you don’t want to feel his cock buried in your mouth until you swallow all his cum. 

“Looks like my little butterfly is very needy,” he says smirking against your lips. “But she’s lucky that all I want right now is to feel her tight walls around my hard length.”  

You both start removing the last piece of clothing that you were wearing, which are just your underwears. Jungkook finally sets ‘kookie junior’ free, that’s how you’ve been calling his cock lately. He doesn’t like it much but teasing him is one of your passions, so you decided that from now on you’ll call his length ‘kookie junior’.   

Your hand starts pumping his length, resulting in Jungkook rolling his head back and letting out a moan. Seeing and feeling his long and thick cock just makes you want to feel him inside you even more. 

You move your hand up and down his length at a slow pace at first before quickening. He is getting harder, panting out curses of how good it feels to finally have your hand around him again. Precum is leaking and you use it as lube to allow your hand to easily move along his dick.  

“Fuck, yn,” he curses as he looks at your hand working on his cock. But as he looks down, the first thing he sees is your baby bump and that sight can make him come undone in a heartbeat.  

You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingers, and you decide to stop this torture. You know that he’ll come right now and you still need to ride him before that happens. A desperate groan leaves his lips. 

“We don’t have the time for it, Kook.” 

You grip the condom he took seconds before and rip off the packing with your teeth. Then, you put the condom on his hard length while his hand slips to your wet core and he curses when he feels how wet you are. 

“Fuck, butterfly,” his cold fingers brushing against your core makes you moan. “You’re so wet,” he smirks and gathers your wetness in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking them. Your eyes are glued to what he’s doing, and you admire the way your wetness mixes with his saliva in his mouth. This is so fucking hot. 

Once he finishes sucking his fingers and the condom is put on his cock, his gaze meets yours and his hands fall to your hips, guiding your body up and then back down as you slowly sink onto his cock. 

You moan as he stretches you out, your nails sinking on his shoulder as you feel a mix of pleasure and pain.  

“Fuck!” you whimper as he groans, more than happy to be inside of your heat. You’re sure that Jimin and the girl he’s tattooing heard his loud groan, but you simply don’t care. All you care about is to be fucked by this man. 

“You’re so fucking big,” you say. 

Both of you stay still once his cock is fully inside you. You press your forehead against his, giving time to your body to adapt to his huge cock. You look into each other's eyes and he offers you a big smile. 

“It just feels like you were made just for me,” he says, and you smile back at him. 

“Maybe we are meant to be together,” you give him a quick kiss. 

“I am starting to think that we are,” he whispers. 

Jungkook is convinced that when you entered this shop almost two years ago, you were meant to be his soulmate. He never believed in that shit before you, but now that he’s with you, it all makes sense to him.  

“I could stay like this forever,” you say before giving him another kiss.    

“Me too, butterfly.” 

It feels like heaven, even though it hurts a little bit to have him fully inside of you. 

“Can I move or do we wait a bit more ?” he asks with concern. 

Instead of answering, you grind your hips to let him know that you’re ready to feel him move. Your prominent stomach brushes against his abs and a groan leaves his mouth.  

Your forehead leaves his, and you sit up before he starts to thrust into you without any hesitation. His strong hands go down on your hips, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust you at a slow pace. With every thrust he gives you; you feel your stomach get tighter. 

There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to share this moment with him. Everything is perfect with him, and finally having more than just oral sex with him feels like you got a ticket to heaven. You look at him, hot as hell, and that sight makes you moan. 

Knowing how Jungkook loves to handle everything when it comes to sex, you know that all you have to do is to sit on his cock and let him do all the magic, enjoying every single second of this moment. He is strong enough to hold your body up as he fucks into your cunt from below. His thrusts become fast as he starts to set a pace you are both comfortable with. 

“Feels good, butterfly?” he questions. 

You give him a simple nod, not able to make a proper sentence because you’re completely lost in your own state of bliss. Jungkook loves seeing you like this, completely fucked up. 

His hands caress your stomach, and in the middle of this debauchery, you can’t help but find this moment adorable. You know he’s doing it to reassure your baby, he confessed to you once when he did it while he was fingering you. And you have to admit that you like the feeling of his hands rubbing your skin. 

Your walls pulse around his length, squeezing him and it results in his thrusts becoming more brutal. He is deep inside of you, and you are loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble. 

If he keeps pounding you like that, you’re sure that you’ll give birth right now.  

“Gonna cum, Kook,” you whisper to be the most discreet, although you’re sure that Jimin has already understood that you’re both having sex.

Your nails sink into his shoulder, and he groans at the pain and pleasure it gives him. He grips your hips harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you, and you are sure that you’ll have bruises.

“Go ahead, butterfly, make a mess for me,” he groans as he keeps thrusting hard. 

Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go. You are coming, biting your lower lip to muffle your moans. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm. 

Jungkook is completely loving the way you’re creaming his dick and just this sight could make him cum but he is determined to at least make you come one more time before he would come.

Right now, his priority is you and he just doesn’t give two fucks to the client he’s supposed to tattoo in some minutes. 

He quickly changes positions, flipping your bodies so that now he is on top of you and you are lying on the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps thrusting into you. He’s although very careful with your stomach because he doesn’t want to hurt you or the baby. This is too much for your body and quickly, tears start falling from your eyes, again.

“Kook,” you’re trying to speak but your mind can’t think straight from all this overstimulation, “too m-much,” even though it feels like it’s too much, your body is secretly loving. 

“I know you can take it, butterfly. Be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispers in your ear before he licks the spot right under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod and you feel his tongue going down from your ear to your neck. 

Jungkook sucks and bites the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise. 

“I want everyone to know that I’m the only one who can touch you, butterfly,” his thrusts are still brutal, and you don’t know if your body can handle all of this any longer.  

“Fuck, Kook!” you say as your eyes roll back into the back of your head and he chuckles lowly into your ear. 

Due to his brutal thrust, the couch is creaking, and your breasts are bouncing like crazy. They also have swollen a lot since the beginning of the pregnancy, and they are becoming heavier as time passes.  

His thumb makes contact with your clit and starts rubbing it. All of this feels so bad and so good at the same time, but you never want him to stop. You’re doing everything you can to not moan but Jungkook is clearly pushing you to do it. He’s driving you completely crazy. 

The tip of his cock hits that sweet spot and you come all over him again. Your pussy clench around him as a loud moan escapes your lips, and the juices of your release are leaking out everywhere. 

He keeps fucking you through your high as he chases his own release. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to come. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.  

Jungkook collapses over you as he decides to leave your pussy some needy rest. You both try to catch your breath for a little while, and you leave a lot of kisses on his sweet face. He’s loving it and he could stay like this forever but he has one final client before you can both go home. 

“I’ll tattoo the client, and you stay here until I come back, okay?” he lifts his head up to look at you. 

“Okay, Kookie.” 

He pulls his kookie junior out of you before taking the condom filled with his cum and throwing it in the trash. He puts his clothes back on while you do the same but at a slower rate. Before leaving the room, he kisses you. 

“Can’t wait to do this again tonight, butterfly.”    

FEBRUARY 20, 2019

Minho never expected to see you again, especially not in a supermarket. More than five months have passed since he last saw you. 

He's perfectly aware that he’s the one that completely put an end to whatever you two were having. He adored you a lot and under other circumstances, he's convinced that things between you would have worked. But Yeri, his ex whom he dated for years, came back to him, and things changed. He knew that if he chose you over her, his family would always reject you even if you’d get married. 

But he chose the easiest way for everyone, avoiding causing a lot of suffering. Things would have never been easy. He knows that he will never love Yeri as he used to but they share a long love story and she is what his family wants.   

As you’re looking at the fruits you’re going to buy, your swollen womb catches his attention, making his body freeze completely. Your right-hand strokes gently your obvious baby bump. 

His heart squeezes at the sight, thinking that there are chances that he’s the father. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. For the past months, you’ve been texting him frequently, trying to contact him but he refuses to reply because he knows that he’d fall into your arms in a heartbeat. This is beyond hard for him. Of course, he desires only to reply to your calls and texts but things are better like this.  

Now, it all makes sense. You’ve been texting him because you want to tell him that you’re pregnant. If he would have answered you, he knows that things would have been completely different. Most probably, he’d be right next to you in this supermarket and he’d be doing some jokes about your bump. Most probably, he’d be preparing his baby’s room instead of planning his wedding. 

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself. 

As he was about to walk in your direction, he notices Jungkook placing himself next to you. He’s smiling at you while his hand finds its way to your back. If he didn’t know that he’s your best friend, he’d think that you’re together. 

You look up at Jungkook before he leans closer to you and presses a kiss on your lips. Minho’s heart squeezes even more. You replaced him like he thought you would but you deserve it.  

After kissing Jungkook, you turn around and see Minho from afar. He’s barely recognizable with his hat and sunglasses but you notice him straight away. He’s still the biological father of your child, you’d recognize him under dozens of layers of clothing. 

“I’m coming back,” you say to your boyfriend before walking in Minho’s direction. 

Jungkook doesn’t even have the time to say or understand what you said before you leave him alone in front of the fruits. Minho sees you coming but he doesn’t move. His eyes are only focused on your stomach. It’s still small but it’s obvious that you’re carrying a human. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You’re more than surprised to see him here. It’s a public space, anyone could see him and it’s for sure the last place on earth where you thought you’d see him. 

“Just needed to buy something.” 

A bit far from him, you see his bodyguards. That was the thing you hated the most about him, his bodyguards. They were always around him, never leaving the two of you in peace.  

His eyes barely look at your face, and you know this is your only chance to tell him everything. You’ve been trying for months without success. 

“We really need to talk.” 

This is probably not the best place to have a serious conversation but you don't want to let the chance to speak with him slip away from you. 

Minho nods and you take a look behind you, staring at Jungkook. His jaw is clenched, showing you that he's not very happy to see you with Minho but you offer him a small grin, trying to reassure him. The last thing you want is your boyfriend to get worried.

You both start walking in the supermarket as you explain everything to him. From the way you found out about your pregnancy to the decision you took to recognize Jungkook as the father. 

Minho’s heart squeezes as he hears how you felt alone the moment you found out, but he’s grateful that Jungkook was there, holding you in such a difficult time. You needed someone at that time, and he just feels sorry that he wasn’t there.   

But he can only agree with the decision you took. Although he would have loved to be a father and be there every step of the way, he knows his father. He would have first tried to make you abort. Then, if it didn’t work, he would have simply made you disappear. He would have given you a lot of money to buy your silence and make you leave the country.  

“Jungkook will be their father but if you want to see them, I won’t ever stop you.” 

“I won’t ever do that,” he replies. His words make your heart clutch, thinking about the fact that he doesn’t want to meet his child. 

“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“All I want for that baby is to have the best life possible. Having two fathers won’t make things easier.” 

“We don’t have to necessarily tell them straight away that you’re their father.” 

For sure, until they’re three or four years old, you won’t say anything because they’ll be too young to understand and you’re scared that it would not provide them a stable life. 

“We could wait for a while and introduce you as a family friend until they’re old enough to understand.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just walking and looking in front of him. Being a father is something he has always dreamed of but his family always made things too hard. He ended up not wanting kids, too scared to become like his father. He never wants his children to hate him. 

“I want that baby to be protected from my family, yn,” he finally confesses before halting and looking at you. “I don't want them to know the pressure of being part of the powerful Park family.” 

You take his hand and squeeze it. 

“I prefer it if they never know that I am their birth father. They’ll be safer with you and Jungkook.” 

“But you can still be a part of their life. You can still love them and watch them grow. That’s your right, Minho,” you stroke your thumb on his hand. “This baby will forever have your blood in their veins and nobody can change that. They exist thanks to you and you have all the rights in the world to love them and to be loved by them. Maybe it will never be like you picture it but it will still be love.” 

A small tear runs down his face, and you wipe the tear away. 

“Jungkook and I would never hide to them that he is not their biological father but they’ll only know that you’re the father if you want it.” 

“I never deserved to have you in my life, yn,” he answers. “You’re just too nice.” 

“You deserve everything, Minho. You’re a good person, you were just unlucky to be born as the Park heir. I know you’ll always take decisions based on your family’s approval but nobody has to know about this baby,” you put his hand on your stomach. “Just you, Jungkook and I.” 

He nods before hugging you. This is something he can do. He can be around, see his child grow, and love them but nothing will ever be said to anybody, not even his fiancé. This will be his secret. 

“You’ll be a great mother and I am sure Jungkook will be the best father this baby will ever have.” 

You’re convinced of the same. Jungkook will for sure be the greatest, loving and protecting father ever. 

MAY 28, 2019

Jeon Hyejun. 

You’re looking at your baby boy that is peacefully sleeping in your arms. After nine long months of waiting, he’s finally here, and you’re on your own paradise with Jungkook. 

Hyejun is perfect, prettier than you ever imagined him. He looks a lot like you but he definitely inherited some traits from Minho, you can’t hide it. Jungkook is sitting next to you in the hospital bed, looking at you and his son. 

Nothing prepared him for this very moment. Nothing. He doesn’t even know how to describe what he’s feeling at the moment. All he knows is that he’s finally a father. The father of your son. 

When he saw you in his store, scared to do your first tattoo, he never thought that he’ll start a family with you and that he’ll love you more than life itself. But that’s the magic of fate. You don’t know who you might meet tomorrow. Anybody can drastically change your life. 

“He’s so beautiful,” you mumble as you pass one finger on your son’s face. 

“And so tiny,” Jungkook comments. 

Minho was contacted when you birthed Hyejun. He was the one requesting it because he wants to see him straight after he was born. Hyejun might never know that Minho is his biological father but he’ll have him in his life. 

He has already opened a bank account for him, and he’ll put some money until he’s old enough to be the holder of the bank account. He will never be his father but he still wants to provide him the best future he can have. Money is something he has in a huge quantity and it’s the least he can do. 

“We’re finally parents,” Jungkook adds. 

“It’s the beginning of a new adventure for us,” you look up at your boyfriend with a bright smile. 

You’re more than exhausted but you wanted to put your son to sleep before you sleep too. You wanted to be the first person to do it. 

“And I know it’ll be the best adventure of our lives, butterfly.” As he says your nickname, your eyes instantly look down at his arm where a little butterfly has recently been tattooed. A butterfly made for you. A butterfly that represents his immense love for you. A strong love that he has never experienced before you.

[rememberwren]

Skin Deep

Tattoo artist!Simon x fem!reader. Reader, looking to expand your horizons, you get your first tattoo from an enigmatic artist deemed “Ghost”. 8.4k. Features: soft!Simon who is bad at people-ing, vaginal sex, lots of nipples, like at least three nipples, poor writing, abrupt transitions, shy and awkward reader. Based on this post.

Sequel here.

-

“I bit the bullet!” you shout over the music, hand cupped around your friend’s ear to be better heard. She shrieks in delight at the sound of your voice, turning to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you close to her swaying body. Many eyes in the club follow her movements. She has always been the wild child to your wallflower, attracting attention wherever she goes.

“You bit what?” she shouts back, her breath like a mint julep. 

“The bullet,” you laugh. “I called that guy you recommended and set up an appointment. For the tattoo I wanted!” 

She stares at you blankly. Her silky little tank top is drooping off of one shoulder, so you reach out and tuck it back into place. The longer she stares, the more nervous you grow. She’d been so encouraging after your last boyfriend dumped you—encouraging you to step outside your comfort zone, to ‘make more mistakes’, to live life more fully. Now she’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head and it’s the one doing the talking. 

“What guy I recommended?” she asks. 

“Kevin!”

“Oh no. No, no, no. Not Kevin. Not Kevin. Why, Kevin?” 

You frown. “You said you went to Kevin.” 

“It wasn’t a recommendation, sweetie, if anything it was to caution you away from him! He’s a creep; there’s a reason why I never went back.” 

You deflate like a balloon, going limp and letting her drag you to the nearby free seats at the bar where you sit heavily. It’s not just the tattoo. It’s the icing on a shitcake of a day. 

A new song seamlessly starts, and the dancers nearby go wild with excitement. Your mood is the antithesis of the event; everyone seems to be having a great time except for you. Story of your life. 

“You conveniently left that out. Ugh. I’ll cancel it. What am I even fucking doing—thank you—” you accept the cup of ice water the bartender slides in front of you with a shy smile, sipping at it and keeping your hand curled over the top of it protectively. “—none of this is like me.” 

Your friend frowns. She steals your drink and sips at it. “You were the one who said you’d always wanted a tattoo. You’re an adult. These are exactly the kinds of decisions you’re old enough to make. Look, fuck Kevin. All my friends hate Kevin. I know another guy, and he’s highly recommended. Let me give you his number. Alright?” 

“Alright,” you sigh. You make a silent promise to yourself though: if it doesn’t work out with this next tattoo artist, then you won’t be getting one at all. You’ll take it as a sign from the universe to get back in your comfort zone and stay there, once and for all. 

-

What kind of a moniker is Ghost? you wonder to yourself as you skim the Instagram of the shop this Ghost owns. The profile picture is one of the building itself, and all of the pictures are of various inked body parts. Beautiful ones, admittedly. But no hint of the mysterious figure who owns the shop. There is a personal instagram linked @GHOST89 but it is private when you try to click on it. 

The phone number your friend gave you rings straight through to voicemail. You let out a shaky breath. Fuck, you hate voicemail. Talking to people was difficult enough; talking to people’s disembodied machines was even worse somehow. It isn’t until you’ve hung up after leaving your message that you realize you forgot to tell him your fucking name (genius!). Groaning, you contemplate dialing him back when the phone in your hand rings—and it’s him. 

“Hello?” 

“I’m free Wednesdays for consultations,” says a baritone voice from the other end of the line. 

Nice to talk to you too, you think dryly. Maybe this guy is as bad at the phone as you are. “I work Wednesdays. Are you free in the evenings?” 

He sighs, like this is going to be very strenuous for him. 

“Name a time. I’ll pencil you in. Half is due at the end of the consultation upon booking an appointment. Cash only,” he says. 

Jesus Christ, could he be anymore abrupt? While a tiny part of you is grateful that he isn’t trying to make small talk, a larger part is terrified that you’ve already made an impression so foul that it’s incurred his wrath. What other reason could he have for being so stilted? 

“Alright,” you answer cautiously. “How’s five?” 

“Five. Don’t be late.” 

He hangs up on you, leaving you wondering why every step outside your comfort zone must be so bloody far.

-

You arrive early to the consultation, only to find that the building itself—a tidy little brick two-floor, adorned with a sign that dubbed it SKIN DEEP tattoos & artisan piercings, which you recognize from Instagram—is locked. A note written in neat handwriting taped to the door declares NO WALK INS. Your palms are sweaty. You wipe them on your work slacks, but it doesn’t help. How are you supposed to get in? 

All at once a shadow appears on the other side of the door. The shadow is enormous: well above six feet tall, and broad shouldered. A black surgical mask is tucked up over his mouth and nose, which only adds to his intimidating aura. Judging by the impressive sleeve of tattoos he has, you imagine that this is the guy. 

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And Ghost. 

Dark brown eyes stare down at you when he opens the door, cocking a hip against the frame, staring at you. Waiting. 

Waiting for you to explain your presence, you realize. 

“I have a consultation,” you blurt out. “At…five?”

He opens the door wider to let you pass without a word. He’s so broad that you can smell him as you pass him: clean and masculine. The inside of the tattoo shop is bigger than it looks on the outside. There is a reception area with a desk and a computer and printer. The glossy wooden floors are polished to shine, leading to an open floor plan. There is a small sitting area with armchairs, a wide sofa, and a table on which rests two bottles of water, a notebook, and a steaming mug of liquid.

“Sit,” he says, his voice the same deep rumble you recognize from the phone. He chooses the chair beside the mug. His body is so goddamn long, his legs lean and thick all at once where he stretches them out in front of him. He reaches for the mug and takes a sip—of tea, judging by the smell. “Name?”

You tell him, perching yourself anxiously on the other chair. He glances up at you, eyes raking over your posture. Suddenly he tugs the mask down to rest beneath his chin, revealing a full, pale mouth. A straight, noble nose. A pink scar stretches across his lips and up towards his cheek. 

“The water is for you,” he says. 

“Oh!” You reach forward and take one bottle, breaking the seal. “Thank you.”

“This is your first tattoo.” 

“What gave me away?” you ask with a weak laugh. 

He doesn’t laugh. “Everything. Is someone putting you up to this? This smells like Soap.” 

“What? No, of course not. I want this, I’m just, I’m an anxious personality. I promise.” You hesitate and then add: “I probably smell like soap because I showered this morning.” 

His mouth twitches. He leans back in his seat and sucks on his teeth, and you get the distinct feeling that he is trying very hard not to laugh at you. Why had you mentioned to him that you showered? What was wrong with you? Just as you’re comprising a list of things, he picks up the pencil and the notebook, opening to a fresh page.

 He asks what you want and God, that’s a harder question. 

You do your best to express your idea, but your words feel halting and silly. His pencil scratches rapidly at the paper as he listens in total silence—pausing only once, when you say that you want this to be a sternum piece. Only then does his pencil seem to hover over the paper, his dark eyes seeking you out and pinning you in place on the armchair. 

He reaches for his tea to take a generous sip and then continues writing. 

He asks a few pointed, concise questions (and you’re just thrilled he was actually listening), following your answers up with more scribbling in his notebook. At length, he shuts the book. 

“I think I see the vision. Give me thirty to sketch something and we’ll see if you want to book an appointment. Something this size, on your sternum could take more than one session, depending on how well you sit. How do you take pain?” 

“I mean, it hurts?” you offer. 

He stares. “Two sessions. Let me sketch something. Drink your water.” 

You think that maybe he’ll move to another room to sketch, but he just flips to a clean page and begins to work right there (drawing the mask up over his nose and mouth again). With nothing else to do, you can’t help but watch him. 

He’s handsome, in an odd sort of way. His brow is a little too low, his gaze a little too intimidating to be considered conventionally attractive, but you find him fascinating to look at, especially when he is so clearly in the throes of something he enjoys doing. It’s almost like watching someone have sex. The thought makes your face go warm. You pick up your phone, determined not to look at him again. 

“Here.” 

You glance up from your mindless scrolling. What he shows you is a beautiful rendition of what you had expressed wanting. There are a few key differences, and he patiently explains why he made the decisions he did. He didn’t make the changes because he thought your idea was stupid. He made them so the image would better fit the contours of your body. He made them because the ink will spread over time, and he wants the look to stay clean. 

His thoughtfulness touches you. 

“I love it. I want it,” you say, enthusiasm getting the better of you. 

“This is just a first sketch,” he says dryly, making that warmth return to your face. “I’ll text you a few variations this week, and we can nail down the final piece. You want to book?” 

“Yes,” you say, nearly buzzing. “I really want to book.”

He’s expensive—but judging by the book of his artwork that is available for you to flip through at the front desk while he quotes you a price and writes you up a receipt, he is more than worth the money. Fuck, he’s got skill. You thought that maybe his art style was too dark for what you wanted, but you found that he was able to adapt styles nicely. You just hoped this tattoo wouldn’t bore him to death. 

“Thanks again for meeting with me,” you say as he sees you out. “I’ll be waiting for your text.” 

“You’ll get it.” He glances past you out the window. It’s dark. “Did you walk?” 

“No, my car is just there.”

“I’ll wait.” 

And he does. His figure darkens the doorway until you have shut your car and locked the doors, temporary insanity making you give him a short wave. He raises two fingers and then disappears. 

-

You didn’t tell me this guy was cute, you text to your friend. 

GHOST? Cute? I’ve never even seen his face lol. He’s always wearing one of his masks. 

You chew over this information. Yes he’d been wearing a mask, but he’d lowered it for you. Did that mean something? Did it mean something that you wanted it to mean something?  

Masks are cute, you say. 

Fuck the tattoo artist!!!! she says. Maybe he’ll ink you for free. 

You’re terrible. 

You’re…thinking about it. 

-

Two days later, you squint blearily into the darkness at your phone after it vibrates on your nightstand. The time reads twelve past one in the morning. It’s from GHOST. 

The two images he sends are beautiful; enough to rouse you straight from sleep into wakefulness. 

I love them both, you tell him. But the second one is amazing. I think that’s the one. 

Keep your appointment. Ten minutes later (after you have already fallen back to sleep) he sends: wear something appropriate.  

And fuck, you didn’t even think of that. 

-

“You’re being ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror, turning sideways to assess yourself. On the bed behind you are a series of button up shirts, all of which you have tried on at one point or another. 

“You are,” your friend agrees from where she lounges on your bed, scrolling on her phone. “Your tits are cute. Let Ghost see them.” 

The look you give her is the one the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was modeled after, surely. She doesn’t even see it, so the effect is lost entirely. You turn your gaze back to the silicone nipple adhesive covers again, still stuck to their adhesive backing. You’ve already used one set of the pack of three, and they covered your nipple and areolas nicely, but still left you feeling so exposed. 

“Be glad you’re not going to creepy Kevin anymore,” your friend says.

“Very glad of it.” 

You felt reasonably safe with Ghost, but still a degree of embarrassment about your own body. Or perhaps that was too strong a word—it didn’t embarrass you, but it felt private. Baring your breasts to a near stranger (especially one you had a grudging attraction to) made your anxiety reach epic level proportions. 

“You should text him about it, see if he has any advice for you. He’s been doing this for years. I’m sure he’s seen it all,” she says—the first good idea she’s had all night, miles ahead of ‘Just let Ghost see your cute tits’. 

That night, you take her advice and text him, hoping you aren’t overstepping some weird artist-client boundary. 

I’m a little nervous.

You can cancel, is all he says. I’ll refund your money.

It’s not that. 

What is it? 

Not really accustomed to the nakedness tbh. There. You said it. Let him think you some prim priss; it was true. 

But all he said back was: how can I help?  

I don’t know, you admit. Then; sorry. I’m probably bothering you with this while you’re working. 

I’m not working. Five minutes later, when it seems as if you aren’t going to message back: I keep the shop closed to the public. One customer at a time: you. I’ll let my piercer know I’m with a client and not to walk in. I’ll keep you covered every moment I can. Better? 

Relief, warm and sweet curling low in your belly, you let him know: much better. 

-

You bring the pasties anyway. 

-

The day of your appointment, you are so nervous you are shaking. Now you know the truth behind the phrase ‘knees knocking together’, as you stand outside SKIN DEEP waiting for Ghost’s hulking figure to appear on the other side of the glass. 

When it does, he’s like a little punch to the gut. That black surgical mask is in place—typical for him, if your friend’s words are to be trusted—but his blond hair, cropped short to his scalp is riotous in a way that is adorably charming, like he hasn’t been able to keep his hands out of it. His black t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, and his jeans fit him nicely around his thick thighs. 

You’re horrified to find that your attraction to him has grown. Exponentially. Your friend’s words echo in your mind—fuck the tattoo artist, maybe he’ll ink you for free. 

“Hi,” you squeak. 

Ghost raises both his brows. He opens the door wider for you to slip past him. Fuck he still smells good.

“I’m still nervous,” you blurt out, hoping that speaking the truth out loud will help you feel better. It doesn’t. 

“That’s normal. You can back out at any time, but the earlier the better. Come look at the image and tell me if it’s still what you want.”

It’s exactly what you want, and more. 

“It’s perfect. You’re very talented.” 

He huffs a little, like you shouldn’t have said such a thing. 

The chair is a great leather contraption which reclines comfortably once he’s gotten you in it (after making you use the restroom first, during which you took the time to splash water on your burning face and double check that your pasties were in place covering all the cutest bits according to your friend). Simon moves around you, making preparations with the ease of someone who has done this work for many years. 

You fight the arousal that blooms in your belly at the sight of him doing such benign things as washing his hands, putting on gloves, opening fresh needles, preparing little wells of ink and sticking them to the movable cart with Vaseline. There’s just something about a person who knows exactly what they’re doing and who is able to do it with efficacy.

“Ready?” he asks at length. 

You nod, hoping your nerves don’t show on your face. Steeling yourself, you unbutton the shirt you’re wearing. His eyes follow your hands, but there is a detached, clinical sort of expression in them. He’s not watching a strip tease, he’s looking at a canvas. 

Finally, you sit in front of him in only the pasties, the shirt lax around your shoulders, and your sweatpants, socked toes curling in anxiety in your shoes. Without missing a beat, he leans the chair all the way back. Then he opens a fresh disposable razor and shaves you. 

“Am I hairy?” you ask, resting your hands oh-so-casually over your breasts to keep them out of his way. 

“Yes,” he says. Then his eyes flicker to yours. “Everyone is. Everywhere. It’s normal.”

“I’m just teasing you.” 

“Didn’t think you had the breath in your body left to tease me,” he mutters, voice nearly lost behind his mask as he carefully works the razor across your skin removing the baby-fine hairs from beneath your breasts and across your sternum. “You’re nervous, I mean.” 

“Would you take the mask off?” you ask on a whim. It had helped last time, to see his face. 

“No,” he says. He adds: “Sorry. It’s more sanitary f’you if I keep it on.” 

You get the feeling that he really is sorry—and that’s well enough. Some of the anxiety in your belly fades away. He would take it off if he could. The most anxious part of the process (baring yourself to a stranger) has already passed. Maybe now you can begin to relax. 

After cleaning your skin, he carefully lays the stencil and has you stand up to look at it in the mirror and make sure the placement is correct and holy fucking shit. It’s sexy. You’ve always been attracted to tattoos, and fancied the idea of getting one on your sternum for far longer than you’d ever admitted to anyone, but seeing it come to life gives you a rush you hadn’t expected. You feel so…badass. 

“Good?” He asks. 

“Very good,” you answer, sitting back down, hoping he ignores the way your breasts bounce a little as you do. He leans you back again and this time breaks out the needle gun.

But before he uses it on you, he carefully takes a clean towel and lays it over your left breast, covering the parts of you that are not nearest to his eyes. His gentleness and thoughtfulness go straight to your cunt. 

“Thank you,” you say softly. 

He just nods. The gun buzzes to life. “I’ll make a line and see how you feel. Last chance to back out without any souvenirs.” 

“I’m not backing out.” 

He clicks his tongue as if to say, It’s your funeral. Then he lays his hand on your sternum above your breasts, pinning you in place, and makes a gentle line. 

It burns more than you expected it to. There’s a sandpaper quality to it, almost like the rasping of a cat’s tongue. The pain is sharp and bright, but it isn’t overwhelming. In fact…a strange part of you sort of enjoys it. Maybe it’s the rush of endorphins. 

“Good?” He asks. 

“Good,” you squeak. 

You hear his quiet laugh, no more than an exhale of breath.

“Let me know when you need to break.” 

You don’t know how you feel about the way he phrases that: when you need to break. He adjusts his mask a little, leans over you, and gets to work. Sometimes the needles pass over a place that is more sensitive than the others, making you flinch. He pauses when this happens, eyes flickering up to your own, making sure you are alright even though he can likely feel the pounding of your heart beneath his hand. That hand on your chest, wrist just brushing the top of your breast, is a solid warm weight that seems to tether you back down to the earth as he lines you. He is very careful not to brush against your breast when he wipes away the excess ink and traces of blood, but you feel hyper-attuned to how easy it would be for him if he wanted to. How huge his hand is compared to your tit. Beneath the pasties, your nipples ache with tension, a tension that is mirrored between your legs. 

“Alright. Break,” he says, abruptly turning the gun off. He covers your exposed breast with another towel. “Take ten.”

He disposes of his gloves and disappears behind a curtain in the back, leaving you throbbing between the legs. Worming your phone free from your pocket, you scroll aimlessly, hoping to calm your raging hormones. He returns right at the ten minute mark, just as his cellphone rings. He glances toward where it rests on the table, but makes no move to answer it. 

“Do you need to get that?” you ask, offering him an out.

“No,” he says. “I make everyone leave a message. Weeds out the cowards.”

It had almost weeded out you, you think about telling him, but in the end you decide against it. He gloves back up. 

“Good for more?”

And so it repeats. 

At one point, he runs into a patch of sensitive skin on your ribs just overlaying the bone. It has you sucking in a breath through your teeth, eyes squeezing shut. It’s too late to turn back now you tell yourself; the only way out is through. 

His thumb gently strokes your sternum. 

“It’s rough. You can take it,” he says, quiet and focused. The buzzing of the gun never ceases as he tries to make his work as quick as possible, his words a little distant and distracted. “Just keep breathing. That’s it. Good girl.”

Jesus. Did he not have any idea what those words could do to a girl? A groan escapes your lips, and he clearly mistakes it for pain, because his thumb strokes again the soft skin over your heart, just above the curve of your breast. 

“You can do it. Just a little longer for me, and we’ll break.”

“Hurts,” you breathe, flinching again. 

He hushes you, surprisingly tender. 

“This is the worst of it.” This time, his thumb does brush the edge of your breast, making you suck in a gasp. He recoils, hand lifting away from you and curling into a fist. He rests that against you instead, taking away any further hope that he might brush his fingertips against you. You make it through the rough patch with tears in your eyes but no worse for wear.  

“Break. Ten minutes,” he says again, already shredding his gloves and moving to disappear behind the curtain. 

You call out: “Hey, wait—I’d rather just get through it in one go if I can. If this really is the worst of it.” 

“I need breaks too,” he says stonily.

You duck your head, feeling silly. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He vanishes again. 

He is late to return to you. Only by five minutes or so, but noticeably for a man so usually punctual and so demanding of punctuality in you. His face is stoic—what bits of it you can see from behind the mask—as he washes his hands thoroughly and preps his work station again. 

This time his hand keeps a very respectable distance from your breasts—a fact which you both lament and appreciate all in one. He works with single-minded efficiency, giving you his entire focus. You break once more, but this time he breaks in the room with you, stretching out his back and neck (giving you a generous glimpse of his belly when his shirt rides up, exposing cut abs and a happy trail you’d give your life to follow). 

“I think we could do this in one sitting, if you have nowhere else to be,” he mutters at length. 

“Eager to be done?” you wonder. 

He stares at you, expression flat, and says nothing. Nothing needs to be said. 

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” you murmur, staring up at the bright adjustable light that he has positioned over you. You hope he mistakes that for the reason behind any mistiness in your eyes, his rudeness cutting you deeply. 

So the two of you push through later into the evening, until you are sweating at your temples and the base of your neck from the continuous pain for so long. At last he lays the last gradient for the shading, sprays you down, and wipes you clean so very gently. 

“Go take a look. I’m going to cover it up.” 

It’s beautiful. Stunning, even. You let your shirt gape closed and cover the pasties, revealing a broad glimpse of the sternum tattoo, and it is the sexiest you have ever felt. It almost makes your eyes burn anew.

“I love it,” you choke out. “Thank you.”

“Can I take a picture of it?” he asks. “For Instagram.” 

“Sure!” It will feel a little like being famous, you think, judging by how much notice each of the photos on his Instagram garners. He crouches down on the floor to be at the perfect height, reaches out and gently adjusts your shirt. Parts of the tattoo are covered—the very far edges—but you can’t deny how sexy it is. Maybe he feels the same way. 

After he takes the photo, he posts it and asks for your handle to tag you in it. Then he says: “Let me cover it up. Keep it covered overnight, but tomorrow let it breathe. Keep it clean. Don’t do anything stupid to it. Understand?” 

“I understand.”

“And if you have any questions—text me.” 

-

You get home to find that Ghost’s personal account has requested to follow you. Thrumming with nerves and excitement, you accept the request and send one of your own, spending the night scrolling through his Instagram (so, so carefully to avoid any incidental ‘likes’). Plenty of the photos are of his artwork, still. But there are ones of his dog: a German Shepherd that is thankfully much more photogenic than her surly owner. There are three or four photos featuring Ghost himself, and only one has his full face in the picture. You find yourself staring at his fixated expression for longer than is respectable. 

-

Three days later when you find yourself panicking, you don’t text him like he asked you to. You call. 

Your skin is peeling off. Peeling. Off. The sight of it makes your stomach roll. The entire tattoo is hot to the touch, and the skin around it feels warm as well. Flushed. Is it supposed to hurt this much? 

The internet doesn’t help. The peeling is normal, sure. But everything else is suggesting that your tattoo could be infected. What sort of ink did Ghost use? Was it reputable? What if the infection reaches your bloodstream? You were too young to die! Your anxiety spirals like a plane with one wing, trailing smoke as it soars straight down, determined to take you with it.   

With shaking hands, you don’t even think about texting Ghost. You go straight to calling him, tapping his number in your phone and pressing it to your ear, listening to the ring. 

He’s going to send you to voicemail, just like he does to everyone else—except he doesn’t. All the sudden there is glorious feedback from the other end: a cacophony of voices and laughter, clearly some sort of gathering. 

“Yes?” Ghost says into the phone, as if that’s a decent hello. 

“There’s something wrong with my tattoo!” you cry. 

“Wait—get out of my goddamn way.” There is rustling, and then the noise decreases substantially. You can almost see him standing outside whatever bar his friends have brought him to, mask down around his chin, hand over his other ear as he strains to listen to you. “Say it again. Now I can fucking hear you.”

“There’s. Something. Wrong,” you say through your teeth. “With my tattoo!”

“Well? What is it?”

“It’s falling off, for one!”

He snorts. “That’s normal. That's why you called?” 

“It’s all swollen and hot. And it hurts.” 

Now that shuts him up. He sighs a little, switches the phone from one ear to the other. “Hurts how bad?”

“Worse than getting it.” 

“Fuck me. Alright. Meet me at the shop in…twenty?” 

“Twenty minutes from now?” 

“From when else?” He hangs up. Man doesn’t know the meaning of the word goodbye. 

-

The night is cool. You don’t bother with a bra, not when it irritates your tattoo so much. Pulling your jacket closed more tightly around yourself, you walk from your parking spot along the street to the tattoo shop. 

Ghost stands outside at the curb. His figure is unmistakable. He is smoking, mask down, the lit end of his cigarette a burning ember that flares bright in the darkness. When he sees you coming, he crushes the cigarette beneath his boot and opens the door to the shop, which is still and dark. He flicks on a light switch as he goes, casting the place in a warm glow. 

He’s dressed in his usual dark jeans and an obscenely tight t-shirt, his sleeve of tattoos on display. He leaves the mask down. His eyes are on your tits—or resting where your tattoo is beneath your clothes. 

“Well. Sit. Show me.”

You sit in one of the armchairs, your shoulders rising in defensiveness. “What, just flash you?”

“Nothing I’ve never seen before.” 

Gritting your teeth, you begin unbuttoning your shirt until it gapes open. You cup your breasts with your hands, maintaining your modesty while putting the tattoo on full display. He narrows his eyes, leaning down. His fingers reach out, but then he thinks twice and washes his hands. 

“I was smoking,” he says when you roll your eyes in exasperation. 

“You’re worried about getting the chemicals on my skin but not in your lungs?”

“Fuck my lungs,” he mutters. His fingers hover over your tattoo. “Can I?”

You nod. His fingers are cool when they gently prod and ghost along the edges of the tattoo, feeling for the signature warmth of an infection. “Any fever?” he asks. 

“Not that I’ve noticed.” 

“You feel warm, but I’ve felt warmer. I don’t think it’s infected. Have you tried icing it?”

“No,” you admit. 

“Ice will help. Just use something clean, for fuck’s sake.” As he speaks, his breath fans across your chest, making you shiver. He sees this, his eyes darkening. “When you called, I thought it was for me.”

“It was for you,” you say, brow furrowing. “Who else?”

He snorts, lips quirking. It tugs on the scar across his lips. “Forget it.” 

“Forget what?” 

“Talking about it goes against forgetting it.”

You groan, tossing up your hands. “You’re impossible.” 

He reaches out and jerks your shirt closed, hastily doing up a button. Your face burns as you do up the rest of the buttons—you end up having to backtrack and redo them because he was off by one. 

“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry it was for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” he says. “And I wasn’t doing much.”

“You were with friends,” you insist.

His eyes narrow. “Who told you that?” 

“I saw it on your Instagram tonight.” 

“Nosey.” 

“I could buy you a drink sometime,” you offer after a lengthy pause, your heart pounding loud enough to fill the silence between you. Are you really doing this? Are you really asking him out?  “Make up for the ones I lost you tonight.” 

“Maybe.”

God, it’s like he’s not getting it. Maybe you need to be bolder. Fortune favors the bold, doesn’t it? Your hands are shaking when they fall back to the buttons on your shirt. 

“Would you take one more look at my tattoo? Just to be…positive?”

He sighs and makes an impatient hand gesture. Your fingers fumble through the buttons again. You don’t cover yourself with your hands this time; just keep the halves of your shirt over your nipples. He dutifully exams the tattoo again, prodding gently, laying the flat of his fingers against it to feel the warmth it lets off. 

“Maybe you should look closer.” 

His eyes flicker up to yours. “Closer.”

Your mouth is dry. “Yeah.”

“Can’t get much closer than I am.” 

“You could—if you wanted to.” 

“If I—“ it hits him then. You can see it in the fractional widening of his eyes, the way his mouth parts softly in blatant surprise before he shuts it, dark eyes returning to your sternum. He says: “Closer.”

“Mhm.”

The back of his hand brushes against your breast, causing your breath to hitch. His thumb traces softly along the outline of the tattoo, following the path just beneath your shirt, nudging the fabric aside slowly, so slowly, until your breast is bare, nipple puckered and aching. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. His eyes flicker to yours as if to see if you really want this—and whatever he sees must reassure him, because then he is sweeping his fingertips along the bottom curve of your breast and taking it into his hand, his palm rasping gently over your nipple. All the breath rushes out of you. Your thighs clench together. Already you’re aching—have been since you saw his mouth around that cigarette on the street—but he moves with determined caution. His thumb finds your nipple and teases it, pulling a desperate little sound from the back of your throat. 

“Pretty little tits,” he says, his voice a warm, smoky rumble that goes straight to your core. He captures your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand reaching out to brace yourself against his shoulder. He is solid and firm beneath your touch, unmoving and unmalleable. Your breasts have always been sensitive, but it feels like every touch is directly related to the feelings in your cunt. You find your back arching, hips searching for friction against the seat of the chair. 

“Be still,” he says firmly. Another pitiful sound slips past your throat. “Let me play with you.” 

“Please,” you gasp. “Play with me—even if that’s all you want—just don’t stop, please.” 

His mouth parts as he listens to you, his eyes so, so dark. The pupils have nearly swallowed his irises whole, until you can see yourself bare from the waist up in the reflection. He shakes his head a little. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I—“ your words are cut off with a gasp as he hauls you out of the chair by your wrist and onto his lap. He’s so thick thighed that it stretches you obscenely to have him between your legs. His hands tear the button-up off your shoulders and down your arms until it flutters to the floor, leaving you half naked. Dipping his head, he presses a heated kiss to the place on your sternum where he had rested his hand during the tattoo—and then trails wet kisses towards your left breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking with a decided softness. 

You let out an unflattering, choked groan, resting your weight heavily against him until you can feel the prominent bulge in his tight jeans. His hands find your ass and grip you tightly, working you back and forth, rubbing that bulge against your clothed sex. 

“Driving me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, opening his mouth to drag the sharp line of his teeth against the curve of one breast before switching to the other and flicking his tongue over your nipple. 

You gape at his admission. Had you been? He’d been so closed off and cool…though now that you thought back, maybe that was just his way of hiding it. Suddenly he grips the back of your neck, where your hairline ends, and pulls you to his mouth. He tastes faintly of smoke, even fainter of the drinks he had had earlier in the night, but it is an intoxicating mixture. Your tongues find a rhythm as your hips do the same, both of you fucking in every sense of the word except the literal kind. 

He takes one of your thighs and wedges it between his own, until you’re no longer grinding against his cock but instead his denim-clad thigh. “You the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?” 

“Uh-huh,” you promise, head bobbing. 

He buries his face in your neck. “Good. I won’t last when I’ve got my cock in you. I’d like you to cum at least once before then.”

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping his shoulders fiercely as you begin a halting, stilted rhythm against his thigh. The denim is rough against your leggings. He feels all around you: his scent, his taste, his touch. When his hands find your hips to help you work yourself against him more smoothly, a sigh of gratitude fans from your lips. 

“What else do you need?” he asks. 

“My—touch me—“ He abandons your hips once you find a suitable rhythm. He finds your nipples again, teasing them with clever fingers. The stimulation has your peak approaching faster, building like a storm in your lower belly. 

Ghost leans back to look at you, eyes trailing over you from head to toe: your face burning with warmth, your breasts with peaked little nipples, your leggings nearly soaked through at the crotch with how wet you are. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“Fucking perfect.” You bury your face in his neck, feeling a warmth inside your chest. He grips you by the neck again and tugs you back. “Look at me. Look at me.” 

You look at him for as long as you can, but when the band in your belly finally snaps, your eyes roll up and slip shut, your mouth drops open in a choked gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder and shake in the throes of your pleasure. 

He leans down to kiss you through it, tongue teasing at your slack mouth. 

When he stands, he takes you with him, hauling you up until you wrap your shaking legs around his waist. It’s probably a good thing too. You aren’t sure you could walk otherwise. He carries you the few steps to the couch and lays you down, curling his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. You nod. He strips them off you, along with your flats, and your panties until you are naked as the day you were born.

Your thighs clamp together shyly. He lets them, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off. Something catches your eye in the streetlights streaming in through the window: Ghost has one of his nipples pierced, a neat little barbell through the sensitive flesh. 

Fingers enter your vision—your own—reaching out on instinct. You hesitate, unsure if he is receptive, and a little afraid to hurt him. He’s so bloody tall, too…but he takes care of that himself by kneeling down by your side, his eyes cautious. Closer, you can see the scars: silvery in the moonlight, crisscrossing over his torso. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask, softly stroking your fingers beneath the pale pink skin of his areola. 

“No,” he says. You can feel the timber of his warm voice vibrating through his chest, up your fingers, straight to your pussy. “You can play with it.”

You shyly run your thumb over it the way he had yours. He sighs, breath fanning across your arm. His eyes go heavy-lidded, tongue flashing as he wets his lips. After a moment, you grow insecure and move your hands away from his nipple down to a scar that crosses his sternum. He lets you, very patient, like a dangerous creature withholding its bite. 

“You’re so—“ the words are whispered dreamily before you have any idea how you plan to finish the sentence. Flushing with embarrassed heat under his wary stare, you finish: “—hot.” 

He physically turns away, expression inscrutable. You can’t help but feel like you have said the wrong thing. He puts a hand on your belly, stroking the softness. “You broken, or can you take more?” 

“I want more.”

“Want my cock?” 

You nod, feeling like a bobble head. 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“I want your cock.”

His hand reaches for his belt, unbuckling it. Your eyes track the movement with hungry nerves. His hands put butterflies in your belly: thick palms with long, slender fingers, veins criss-crossing along the backs. An artist’s hands. He works his belt free with nimble grace and shucks down his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement, revealing his cock to your gaze and the light from the street lamps. 

He is huge here to match. Downright intimidating in length and girth, uncut with a nice curve toward his belly. He grips himself and gives a series of smooth strokes, the muscles in his abdomen flexing into sharp relief. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. 

“No gods here,” he says, kneeling up on the couch. His hands part your thighs, and for a long time he just looks at you, that sensitive, swollen place between your legs. He stares so long that you nearly cover your face, embarrassed by whatever he is thinking. Then he touches you, and when he does, he touches you with surprising reverence. He touches you like you are art. 

“Can’t believe you let me ink you,” he mutters, stroking your vulva with his warm palm. His eyes are on the sternum piece now. “Practically let me carve my name into your skin. Anybody around here who sees it will know who did it. They’ll know who touched you.” 

“Good,” you breathe. 

His sigh is shaky. You’re learning his reactions, his very breaths. That shaky sigh means he’s pleased with you. You’ve said something right. 

He reaches down to his jeans on the floor and works a hand into his pocket, pulling free a condom. He hands it to you—for inspection, you realize, though you’ve had so few one night stands (try zero) that you’ve never had the need to inspect a condom before. The package is intact at least. There appears to be an expiration date which you squint at. All looks well. You hand it back to him and he tears it open, rolling it down his considerable length. 

Then he goes back to touching you. One hand braces himself against the back of the sofa so he can lean down to kiss you, tasting your mouth deeply. The other hand finds your entrance, circling it with a finger before slipping inside you all the way to the last knuckle. You are wet enough and relaxed enough that he slips in easily. 

“Relax…there you go. Let me in,” he says under his breath, working a second finger in beside the first. It is a bit of a stretch—he’s thick everywhere goddamn it—but it’s a good stretch, a much needed one. The third finger has you stiffening, whining at the pinch of pain. He slows his fingers and lets his thumb find your clit, muting the pain with little jolts of pleasure. 

“Ghost,” you groan, toes curling against the leather of the couch.

“I think you can take it,” he says, thumb so soft and insistent against that aching pearl of nerves. “But what do you think?” 

“Your cock—want it—please—“

“Alright,” he laughs, pulling his fingers free and wiping the wetness on his cock. “No need to beg.” 

He notches his cock against your entrance and slips inside you. Both of you inhale together, like on cue. Just the first few inches have you feeling full beyond your comfort zone, but he seems to understand in his silent, all-knowing way. He stills, working that free hand between you both to play with your clit until you’re clenching around him, body trying to pull him deeper. He slips further in and then reaches the end of what your body can take. You feel fucking stuffed, your hands shaking where you have gripped his naked shoulders, nails digging into his skin. 

His own breathing is ragged, pecs brushing your nipples with every inhale. The little bursts of pleasure help, until you find that your hips have grown restless, working back and forth as much as his substantial weight will allow when you’re pinned beneath it. 

“Stay still,” he mutters into the juncture of your neck. “Stay still or I’ll cum and this is all over.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, his revelation electrifying you. “Have to move, ‘m so full—“

“Fucking hell,” he groans. He pulls out, leaving you feeling gaped. “Roll onto your side.” 

He gives you instruction but isn’t shy about reaching out and physically arranging you until you are both spooning, your back to his chest. This time when he enters you, it is more shallow, and easier for him to reach around and play with your clit. 

You arch your back, seeking more of him, pressing your breast into his free palm. He plucks at the nipple, teeth nibbling at your throat. 

“Want you to cum again,” he says, stilling your movements so that you can’t fuck your self back against him. “Give me one more. Then it’s my turn.”

“Ghost—I can’t—“ you’ve never cum twice before. Not even with your favorite toys have you been able to scrounge together more than one illustrious orgasm. This knowledge and your expectation of his disappointment has you stiffening in his arms. 

“If you can’t, then don’t,” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He keeps his fingers soft and insistent against you, and only after a few lengthy moments does he feel confident enough to work his hips against you too. He pulls out too far and his length drags across your labia, the head brushing where his fingers play with your clit. 

You give a sighing little moan. His head cocks; you aren’t the only one listening to sighs. Now when he gives those lazy, lackadaisical thrusts, his entire length just strokes the outside of your sex. 

“Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling that band in your belly begin pulling tight again. 

He hums behind you, a smug sound. 

“Not sure I want you to cum now,” he says. “Hold it. I’m thinking it over.” 

“Ghost!”

He laughs, honest to God laughs at you. Tears prick your eyes from the sheer need (and a bit from embarrassment) but his hips never cease nor slow their tireless thrusts against you, not even when you grow close enough to beg, close enough to plead. 

He loops his arm around your waist and pins you against him when you cum to keep you from rolling right off the couch, your body wracked with shivers and spasms. The warmth of your release washes over you from head to toe, and you are still basking in it when his cock finds your entrance again and enters you. 

The position keeps the penetration blissfully shallow (otherwise he might give your cervix a painful beating), but he still reaches new lengths inside you, filling spaces you didn’t know were empty. The shop is eerily quiet except for the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and the frequent breathy sounds his cock punches out of your lungs. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and lets out a series of sounds that are toe-curling: deep groans and raspy curses, whispered praise and hisses through his teeth. His hand grips your hip tightly, leaving shadows the shape of his fingerprints on your skin as he fucks you. 

Sooner than you’d like—but he’d warned you, hadn’t he?—his thrusts grow sloppy, the sounds messy thanks to your wetness as he finds his release and moans it into the skin of your throat. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. And again: “Fuck, fuck. You broken?” 

“Yes.” 

He snorts. Then it turns into that laughter, warm and rumbling against your back. You smile where he can’t see. 

-

“Sorry about this,” he says as he ties the condom off and throws it away, naked as the day he was born. You’re still naked too, though much more shy, legs crossed demurely and arms wrapped around yourself. 

“Regretting it already?” 

“Yes,” he says. Then, when he sees the stricken look on your face, he adds: “Should have at least taken you to dinner first.” 

“Dinner?”

“You owe me drinks. I owe you dinner.” He finds his boxers in the darkness and slips back into them. Then, because the expression on your face still hasn’t relaxed, he says: “I don’t regret the sex. Do you?”

You shake your head. 

He scoffs a little. 

“I mean it,” you insist. You touch your tattoo. “I wanted it…the day you did—this.” 

He raises both brows at you, silently calling your bluff.

“I didn’t think you were interested,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“I jerked off in the back just from seeing half your tits,” he admits, slipping into his jeans now too. His mouth curls a little at the corner when he sees the way you gape at this news. “I was interested.” 

You laugh; you can’t help it. “Dinner, then? Or drinks?” 

“Yeah,” he says. “Alright. Get dressed.”

[kamaluhkhan]

TIME TO PRETEND

pairing: luke castellan x gn!poseidon!reader word count: 5k chapter summary: you're the eldest child of poseidon and the hero of the last great prophecy. you left your demigod life behind after defeating kronos. now, years later, you find yourself back at camp half blood for the summer.....which means dealing with luke castellan, and all that history (tension?) left unresolved between you. warnings: some nicknames for reader are based on female characters (mermista, sailor neptune) but they're still written as gender neutral. reader has tattoos. mention of alcohol + death (post-titan war). spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series, mostly references to the last olympian. timeline is all over the place but set in the early 2000s for vibes. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 author's note: welcome to another product of my pjo hyperfixation !!! i wanted to finish the nemesis!reader series first but it's summer and i felt like reworking my tsitp series in a camp half-blood setting with bb luke. so prepare for childhood friends to lovers drama! summertime vibes! nostalgia! angst! would love to know what y'all think about this and if you want a part 2 so feel free to scream at me in the comments. otherwise, enjoy and thanks 4 reading 💙

♪: time to pretend by mgmt

YOU’VE GOT MAIL!

1 new message 

from: LukeNotSkywalker

to: Mermista86

subject: you are GETTING that record deal

Hey,

Your demo CD just came in the mail — and, Connor as my witness, I’ve already listened to it five times!!! 

It’s amazing. You’re amazing. The label would totally lose out if they didn’t sign you. 

Things have been pretty chaotic around here, with the summer term happening soon. Speaking of which: are you coming back? Chiron gave me the list of returning campers and counsellors this morning and said he hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d ask. I know you’ll be busy with the band, but if you get the chance, it’d be really great to see you.

Anyways, I’m leading the next Shield & Sword session, so I’d better go. Talk soon ;)

- L

FOUR YEARS LATER

TURBULENT WATERS? ALT-ROCK BAND MIDNIGHT SIRENS HIT ROUGH PATCH AFTER LEAD GUITARIST GETS INTO VIOLENT ALTERCATION 

the cover is the nail in the coffin: a blurry picture of you, an electric blue guitar forgotten at your feet, lunging forward into a crowd, with your bandmates on stage behind you in shock. 

you’d gone all this time without any major incidents, and one stupid chimera managed to burn down everything you worked for in one fell swoop.

“that’d be $8.50,” the cashier informs. 

you tear your attention away from the magazine, instead fishing through your pocket for some change. meanwhile, the cashier furrows their brow, leans down slightly to get a better look at you underneath your sunglasses and baseball cap. 

“hey, do i know you?”

“nope,” you say instantly, slapping a $10 bill onto the counter. “keep the change.” you gather your pile of necessary roadtrip supplies (slushies, m&m’s, and goldfish) before rushing out the door, your half-brother trailing behind you.

you slide into the driver’s seat, set each slushie in a cup holder, and hand the rest to percy once he’s slipped into the passenger side. 

“seatbelt,” you remind him. you shake your hair out after removing your baseball cap disguise. “i promised your mom i’d be responsible.” 

percy does as he’s told, though not without mumbling about how he’s practically an adult and a demigod who’s been in much more dangerous situations than a car ride up to long island. you just tell him to put on some music, even though he has a point. he’ll be 18 in august and you’re only five years older, but the fact is that you gave sally jackson your word. 

plus — you’re his older sibling, so gods forbid you let him get hurt. a seatbelt seems like a band-aid solution for one of the most powerful demigods out there, but still.

percy flips through a few radio stations while he sips his blue raspberry slushie. when he doesn’t find anything good, he opens the glove compartment and surveys your music collection before sliding a cd into the stereo. 

instantly, the familiar sound of david bowie’s voice eases the tension in your shoulders.

“good choice?” 

you nod and percy smiles triumphantly. you reach over to steal a few goldfish from the bag he just opened and ruffle his hair playfully, for good measure. 

you’re perfectly happy, driving along a long island highway while getting lost in the glam rock world of ziggy stardust, but it isn’t long until percy interrupts: 

“are you finally gonna tell me what happened, or do i have to read it from some trashy gossip magazine like everyone else?”

“well, your dyslexic ass can barely read so….”

you look over at him briefly, and laugh when you see him stick his slightly-blue tongue out to you. 

“at least my dyslexic ass is actually decent at ancient greek. luke told me you failed the reading test, like, a million times.”

your heart twinges at the mention of your old friend. 

friend.

if you could still call him that. 

thankfully, percy doesn’t give you much room to dwell on the past, too focused on your drama-filled present.

“so, what is it? you got kicked out of the band? lost everything? have nowhere else to go?”

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “i did not get kicked out.” 

“then, what happened?”

“just the usual.” you shrug. “monster attack, mortals who can’t see through the mist. i tried to explain it away after — something about how i saw someone in the crowd attack another person and i stepped in to help. most people bought it, but the media loves drama and the label’s worried i’m a flight risk now. apparently, everything will blow over if i just keep a low profile for the next few months. so….no. i didn’t lose everything.” you take a deep, like when anyone other than children of poseidon are about to go underwater and they’re not quite sure when they can come up for air. 

“i just don’t really have anywhere else to go,” you finish.

“damn.” percy offers you a blue shark gummy (or whale - you and percy had already debated the shape of the candy that sally packed for the trip, and the jury’s still out). you gratefully accept. “well, i know it’s not the best reason, but i’m excited to spend the summer together.”

despite everything, you find yourself smiling. 

“me too, kid.” 

“it’d give me a chance to kick your ass in sword-fighting.”

“you wish!” you nudge his shoulder, both of you giggling. once the laughter’s died down, you glance at percy once more. “hey – did you tell anyone i was coming?”

percy shakes his head. “why?”

you take a long swig of your drink until you’re on the brink of brain freeze. 

“no reason.”

it’s just after lunch when you arrive at camp half-blood. 

you weren’t sure what you were expecting — maybe not some futuristic technological developments that had been discovered within the years you were gone, but definitely not for camp to look pretty much exactly the same as when you left. 

instantly, you find comfort in the familiar scenes: a dragon, peleus, guarding the magical borders; dryads and satyrs picking strawberries in the fields next to the forest; chiron standing near the central guidepost, greeting and guiding every camper in the right direction.

chiron smiles down at percy and practically does a double take when his eyes land on you.

“mx. l/n! it has been a while. are you here to drop off your brother, or do you plan on staying for the summer?”

before you can answer, someone appears behind him. 

“perce! hey!” 

“hey, luke.”

luke gives him a side hug, and percy shoves him away with a laugh when he ruffles his hair. it’s then that luke acknowledges you, though he looks like that’s the last thing he wants to do.

“i thought i’d never see you again. what are you doing here? ”

chiron turns to you expectedly. “i believe you have yet to answer that question of mine as well.”

“staying for the summer…” you adjust the shoulder strap of your backpack, uneased by luke’s cold demeanor. “i hope that’s okay.”

“of course!” chiron’s smile grows wide, eyes crinkling. “you’ll resume your position as head counsellor of cabin 3.”

“so i’m dethroned? just like that?” percy guffaws.

you nudge percy’s shoulder. “fulfill the next great prophecy, and then we’ll talk.” 

percy rolls his eyes playfully. luke, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to appreciate your tongue-in-cheek remark. his jaw tightens, and he suddenly finds a deep interest in the clipboard he’s holding.

chiron clears his throat, likely sensing the tension. “yes, well, i’m sure you remember how things work around here. if not, mr. castellan has been keeping this ship afloat. he's always here to help.”

“always.” luke smiles, but it’s elastic, threatening to snap at any moment. someone calls his name, and he walks away to deal with whatever chaos is waiting for him.

summer — age 15

you weren’t exactly conscious when you first arrived at camp half-blood. 

apparently, coach hedge, a satyr and protector, found you just in time and had to practically drag you up half-blood hill after a particularly gruesome fury attack. 

when you woke up and saw luke sleeping next to you in a chair, his curls overgrown and falling onto his eyes, you thought you had died and gone to elysium. 

you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. some sort of infirmary, with only your best friend next to you, the one you hadn’t seen in almost a year since you’d parted ways. 

then, you remembered what was happening before you passed out; it was more likely that you were being tricked into a false sense of security by that fury, who definitely planned on devouring you later.

with a newfound sense of urgency, you decided it was time to get out of there before it was too late. you were reaching for your knife when you felt a hand grab your shoulder. without losing a second, you twisted your body around, weapon at the ready.

whoever it was watching over you sure looked like luke. he was wearing a bright orange shirt and leather cord necklace with one clay bead. another point of difference was the jagged scar that cut across his left cheek.

“it’s just me,” he said, gently. “you’re fine here. you’re safe.”

you weren’t convinced, kept your knife in front of you to keep distance. “prove it.” you narrowed your eyes. “tell me something only luke would know.”

“you’re left-handed.”

“that’s a great observation,” you scoff.

“storm is your favourite x-men character.”

“that’s a very popular opinion.”

“your aunt would make us mango lassi after swim camp when she got home from work,” luke tries for the third time. “and, my mom - she used to call you ‘starfish.’”

your heart skipped a beat.

that was the confirmation you needed. 

the knife dropped from your hand, clattered on the wooden floor, as you pulled luke in for a hug. you were greeted by a familiar scent, that pear shampoo luke loved because it made his hair so soft, mixed with the smell of fresh pine trees. 

“it’s really you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

despite sleeping for gods know how long, you were exhausted. you rested your weight into luke, but he didn’t seem to care.

“it’s really you. i thought i’d never see you again.”

“where are we?” you asked, breaking away to face luke. you ignored the wooziness you felt throughout your body; luke seemed to sense it, his grip around you tightening. “are annabeth and thalia here, too? how’d you get here?” your thumb traced the unfamiliar scar on his face. “what happened? are you okay —”

“i-i’ll answer all your questions, but you lost a lot of blood.” luke guided you to lay back down in bed. “we’ll explain everything. just get some rest.”

a third scenario entered your mind: this was all a dream. you’d close your eyes and when you opened them again, luke would be gone. you’d be alone again.

you couldn’t let go of luke’s hand, even as he tucked you back into bed. you tugged his wrist, silently urging him to join you.

“will you stay with me?” you finally croaked when he continued standing. 

luke looked at you, and you nodded once as final confirmation. then, he removed his shoes and slipped into the bed next to you. it was luke, all sweet pear and soft curls and strong heartbeat, and you held on to him in fear that he might slip away.

“always,” he whispered.

during the orientation video you were later shown, you learned that camp half-blood’s motto is keeping young heroes safe (mostly) for over three millennia!  

luke had used that word, too. safe.

chiron told you this was to be your new home as he walked you to the poseidon cabin. he told you that you were safe now, though you noticed how the word almost got caught in his throat. he gave you a sad smile you didn’t quite understand.

you did wonder, at first, if those words were true: this place, a home for you and other children of gods. somewhere safe.

and, well.

you came to understand chiron’s general melancholy a few weeks later, and every week after that. he was used to training and sending heroes off to their potential death, and you would be no different. stolen lightning bolts, deadly quests, cryptic prophecies. a pending war between divine forces you had been entangled with long before you knew. heartache and betrayal and loss beyond measure. 

but, there were other things, too. 

annabeth, fitting in perfectly at the athena cabin, continued being her genius self, leading her team to victory every capture the flag game. she was extra patient in helping you with ancient greek, especially after chiron had given up.

chris rodriguez, luke’s half-brother, would tell you jokes from across the dining pavilion, knowing that you hated sitting alone at the poseidon table. michael yew, son of apollo, taught you how to play guitar at the bonfire one week; you’d ask for more and more lessons until you could start playing on your own. charles beckendorf made you a celestial bronze sword that shone like that burst of light when the sun hits the ocean at sunset. it transformed into a ring that you would never take off, unless in battle. you might not have gotten along with mr. d, but you spent free time picking fresh strawberries with his son, castor. you made matching friendship bracelets with silena beauregard, who was really the only person you confided in, about how you maybe possibly felt something other than friendship when it came to luke. she told you about her crush on clarisse larue, the daughter of ares whom you would always partner with during sparring practice. you taught ethan nakamura, who didn’t have his own cabin as the child of nemesis, how to properly hold a sword. thalia’s tree stood tall at the top of the hill where you almost bled to death, protecting you and everyone inside the magical borders. you, annabeth, and luke would share a picnic there every thursday.

you had been on the run for so long, always looking over your shoulder for monsters, sleeping with one eye open to be one step ahead of death, jumping from one place to the next so quickly to avoid danger.

so, yes. 

it was nice to stay in one place, where you knew you were as safe as demigods could be. it was nice to spend your time learning and training and laughing instead of just surviving. 

it was nice to have a place to call home. and people to call it home with.

now 

the first week passes in the blink of an eye, and it’s like you never left.

tie-dye, volleyball, strawberry picking, kitchen duty, and cabin inspection. 

luke has everyone on a tight schedule — one, you notice, conveniently places the two of you at opposite ends of camp at all times.

still, you catch up with clarisse and the stoll brothers, spend time with annabeth and percy, say hi to pollux and katie gardner and others you vaguely recognize as five years older than what you remember. there are also a lot of faces you don’t recognize at all.

of course, you try not to think about the faces you wished you could see: friends you grew up with and would never have a laugh with again, younger campers you had trained who would never grow up. all lost because of the gods and the titans and a prophecy you never asked to be a part of. 

it’s a side effect of being back here; their ghosts are harder to ignore.

again — trying not to think about it.

anyways.

climbing wall, armory, sword-fighting practice, archery field, and free time on the beach.

to conclude: capture-the-flag, a friday night camp-half blood tradition.

you’re praising annabeth for her latest strategy that led to blue team victory when you notice luke. he was also on the blue team, but instead of celebrating with the rest of you, he’s speaking to someone who’s wearing a red helmet. they seem to be in a heated discussion, one that luke is not wanting to continue. his tells are the same, after all these years: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching for an out.

you give it to him.

“sorry, i need to borrow this guy.” you say, grabbing luke’s wrist. “camp emergency.” 

if the person said anything, you didn’t hear it, because you were already dragging luke away from the crowd, towards the armory shed. 

“what’s the emergency?” luke wonders, brows furrowed in concern. he has deep shadows under his eyes, too. keeping the ship that is camp half-blood afloat has clearly taken a toll on him. 

“you wanting to get out of that conversation. you’re welcome.” you wink at him; luke flushes, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s annoyed, or if he's just flustered. “so, are you gonna keep ignoring me the whole summer?”

you put your helmet on one of the shelves and turn back to luke. you expected him to start removing his armor as well, but he doesn’t. he just glares at you, arms crossed over his chest.

so, he’s annoyed, then. 

“what do you expect?” luke hisses. “you can’t come back here and pretend that everything can be like it was when we were kids. things are different now, especially between us.”

you decide to take him up on his challenge. 

“oh? tell me, luke, what exactly is different between us?”

luke shakes his head in disbelief. you remove your chest plate, and that’s when the tattoo on your waist becomes visible. it’s a magnolia, like one of the flowers that bloomed on the tree outside may castellan’s house. 

something in luke softens, then. he sighs. 

“you could have at least given me a warning.”

he storms off, and you’re left half-armored, wondering what he meant by that.

you figure it out once a few of you settle down for a late-night, underground poker game, and you’re trying not to stare at luke’s hands.

it starts with you telling yourself that you’re just trying to predict what cards he’s holding, figure out if he’s bluffing, and if he’s about to lose everything he’d so confidently bet on. 

but then you notice the silver thumb ring that thalia got him for his 17th birthday. you notice an array of hair ties and elastic bands he keeps just in case a camper needs them, and woven bracelets given to him by his admirers. you notice how the tattoo on his wrist is covered. (it’s hidden well, but you know it’s there — you’d gotten one of a wing, the kind that might be found on a pair of magical red converse, at the same time)

you also notice the forest green painted on luke’s nails, the same shade worn by the person beside him.

van, the new head counsellor of the hephaestus cabin. you’d seen them at staff meetings, but you somehow did not notice that they were dating luke. 

he moved on — is that why luke needed a warning? is that what's changed between you?

it’s fine. whatever. so what if luke has a new partner? it’s not like the two of you were anything, officially. 

luke has a new partner. they’re wearing matching nail polish. they’re one of those couples.

well, van is also wearing a nickleback shirt and luke hates nickleback, unless that fundamental part of his personality changed, too. 

“yo, sailor neptune. you in or not?” travis brings you out of your daze, by using a nickname luke once called you.

back before becoming heroes, when you and luke were just kids, you’d watch cartoons in his living room on saturday mornings — x-men, she-ra: princess of power, teenage mutant ninja turtles, sailor moon. a lifetime ago.

you look around the table and see that everyone has been waiting for you to take your turn. even luke raises an eyebrow at you.

“yeah.” you clear your throat and throw some chips into the centre. “i’m in.”

you have decent enough cards to keep you in the game, and you’re comfortable that you can play the odds in your favor. the stoll brothers are good liars, you know that, and so is luke. malcolm pace is good at strategy, but thankfully not as good as his half-sister annabeth. pollux, who had invited you to the game, already folded along with butch, the son of iris who has a rainbow tattoo on his bicep to prove it. beside you, lou ellen, daughter of the hecate, contemplates her next move. clovis has fallen asleep, true to their title as head counsellor of the hypnos cabin. you can’t get a read on van, but they keep raising the stakes so confidently, and you’ve always liked a good challenge.

soon enough, it’s only you and van in the bet. when it comes time to reveal your cards, you curse yourself for overplaying your hand.

“good game,” van says to you as they collect their winnings. “you really had me going there.” 

“yeah.” your smile is strained, but it’s there nonetheless. “tried my best.”

“guess the curse of achilles doesn’t help as much in poker as it does in capture the flag.” 

“excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow.

luke, who had one arm casually draped around van’s chair the entire game, pulls away. “van, maybe don’t —”

“it’s not like it’s a secret, luke. they’re the prophecy kid, everyone knows they bathed in the river styx to be able to fight kronos. it’s camp legend.”

other than you, luke, and van, everyone else is occupied with something else. connor busies himself shuffling the cards, while lou ellen, malcolm, and pollux get up for more drinks. it seems like butch and travis have their own bet going to see who can balance the most chips on clovis’ forehead without waking him up. 

van waits for an answer. you’re a little queasy, and it’s not from the wine pollux managed to snag from his dad’s office. you’re suddenly faced with the reality that your life is reduced to a legend. you try your best to swallow that feeling, of being made into a greek tragic hero while your heart is still beating, and your life is still a mess.

“that’s relevant, why?”

“just that some people might consider the invulnerability thing an unfair advantage in physical competitions like capture the flag,” van explains. “increased strength and all that.” 

“that would mean nothing without a good strategy,” you counter.

“that’s what i said,” luke grumbles. 

you recognize van now as the person luke was arguing with earlier. it must have been about this. 

about you. 

“okay, y’all were best friends, so luke is obviously going to take your side.”

you’re not sure what stings more: friends or were. 

“although, he never really talks about you, which is weird because you’re, like, famous in and outside camp.”

ouch. that definitely stings the most. luke winces slightly, almost like he feels it, too.

“alright, alright,” connor interjects, shuffling the cards in his hands. “another round?” 

you’re the only one who decides to call it a night. everyone says goodbye; even van, who’s blissfully unaware of the effect their words had on you. luke avoids your gaze. the game continues without you.

percy’s snoring provides enough cover as you sneak into your shared cabin. you try to sleep, but it doesn’t come easy. 

you feel the spot underneath your rib, the one spot you’re truly vulnerable, ache.

summer — age 17

for the first time in your life, you couldn’t breathe underwater. you were swimming in acid, and your skin was melting away.

at least, that’s what it felt like to bathe in the river styx. achilles could have mentioned that, but all he gave was a cryptic warning about anchoring yourself to what makes you mortal.

you really tried at first. you thought about your friends at camp. you thought about percy, about your aunt back when she was still around. you even thought about may castellan, burnt cookies and saturday mornings.

the pain was too much, though. 

you were forgetting where you were, who you were. with every passing second, you were dissolving into nothing.

“if you wanted to go for a swim, you should have told me. i would have worn my swimsuit.”

luke’s voice echoed across the waves. you tilted your head up to see him sitting on the dock above you, his feet dangling into the water. he had rolled up his jeans to just above his ankles so they didn’t get wet, but his shoes were still on, which was a bit strange. the sun made his eyes look like burnt amber, his teeth sparkling as he smiled at you. 

okay. cool.

you were at camp. it was mid-afternoon, free period. the two of you had been at the edge of the lake, until you became impatient and jumped in, fully clothed. behind him, you could see that annabeth, thalia, and percy were waiting for you on the shore. they were each wearing orange camp shirts, which was also strange; you couldn’t remember a time when you were all there together, as campers.

“we better go, sailor,” luke said, amusement laced throughout his words. “come on. those cabins aren’t gonna inspect themselves.”

luke extended his hand to you. when you hesitated, he added:

“i can’t do this without you. will you stay with me?”

you reached up and grabbed luke’s hand.

always.

you emerged from the water, catching your breath as you collapsed on the sand. 

“oh gods. are you okay?”

your cousin, nico diangelo, son of hades, knelt down next to you. he tried to check your pulse, but you waved him away. your eyes searched for luke, but he wasn’t there, despite feeling the ghost of his hand in your own. 

oh.

you weren’t at camp; you were in the underworld. it was nico’s idea for you to take on the curse of achilles so that you’d be strong enough to face kronos. 

“did it work?”

you got up, a bit uneasy on your feet at first. nico helped steady you, his hands cold on your skin.

you felt….stronger wasn’t the right word. you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins, like you could swim across the biggest ocean without pausing once. like you could defeat an entire army and not break a sweat. maybe even take down a titan or two while you're at it.

you needed to see luke again, to meet him and the others in manhattan before it was too late.

“let’s hope so.”

now

you always loved mornings at camp half-blood. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water peaceful.

the morning after that impromptu poker game, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. you’re awake after a rather sleepless night, deciding to go for a quick run before breakfast. you get dressed and grab your mp3 player, as quietly as you can to avoid waking up percy (who, truthfully, could probably sleep through a hurricane anyways). 

you jog from one end of the beach to the other. you set a steady rhythm, somewhere between the beat of your music and the sound of waves gently washing over the shore. when you make your way back down to where you started, you notice someone sitting nearby.

luke doesn’t say anything when you first sit next to him. he’s wearing a dark blue hoodie over his usual orange shirt, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. you imagine that he confiscated it from a camper on the way here. 

“morning,” he finally whispers, eyes fixed towards the ocean. 

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time luke spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply. 

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, luke surprises you by taking a lighter out of his pocket. he lights the cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. 

it’s such an odd, though not unwelcomed, gesture. a peace offering, you figure, but it’s just so not luke that you can’t help yourself.

“is golden boy luke castellan, offering me contraband? what planet am i on?”

the hint of a smile creeps onto his face. “like i said: things are different now,” he echoes his words from the night before, but this time you don’t sense any hostility.

you take a drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

you decide to offer a peace offering as well, and present to him one of your earbuds — he accepts. you have to slide across the sand to move closer to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

i’m feelin’ rough, i’m feeling raw / i’m in the prime of my life….

as the song plays, you glance to see luke nodding along, tapping a finger on his knee to the beat. he lets the cigarette smoulder in his other hand.

we’re fated to pretend / to pretend / yeah, yeah, yeah….

when the song is over, luke turns to you. 

“new group?” he brings the cigarette to his lips, then gives it back to you.

“kinda.” you inhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs before explaining. “this is considered they’re breakthrough album. they’re from connecticut, actually.”

“oh, yeah? guess that’s where all the talent is from.”

luke bumps his shoulder against yours knowingly. you feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, his witty sincerity.

this is familiar — you and luke, at the beach, sharing music. it’s familiar, and for a few moments, you can act like there isn’t a wall between you, of unresolved feelings and harsh words. you can pretend that nothing has changed.

“you know, nickleback are from connecticut, too. which means you just called them talented.”

luke coughs on some smoke as he exhales with a laugh. “what? no i didn’t!”

“in a roundabout way. i always knew you were an undercover fan,” you tease.

“i have better taste than that.”

“do you?”

“you’re fucking with me,” luke deadpans.

you crack a smile. “yeah, i’m fucking with you.”

“gods, you scared me for a second,” he laughs, and you can’t help but follow. luke glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his dark brown curls, the ever-changing color of his eyes. golden, radiant. 

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure van would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope luke doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, luke still knows you too well, whether he likes it or not.

“you don’t get to do that.”

“do what?”

luke scoffs. “be jealous.” 

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, lu. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your cabin, the beach and luke further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

[emotoangel]

okay I’m going on a little ineffable phannie rant read at your own gut wrenching discretion bc I can’t lie this shit’s about to get parasocial

because it’s not just Dan and Phil dressed as Crowley and Aziraphale, is it?

it’s Dan and Phil, who have struggled with their sexualities for years. closeted, faced every speculation under the sun when it comes to their own sexualities, the other’s sexuality, their relationship, their legitimacy, if they’re queerbaiting or not, being OUT. OUT and dressed as two canonically gay men in love with each other, two men who would see the world burn to know the other was safe. two men who helped stop the end of the world so they could be together.

a man who is bitter and cold and a little bit bad (but not evil I would say, though he might try to make you believe he is) and a man who is love and light and exclusively good (or so he’d like you to believe). and am I talking about Dan and Phil there, or am I talking about Crowley and Aziraphale?

it’s about these two men who, even 5 years ago, feared the word ‘gay’. it’s about how Dan, Mr Commitmentphobe, Mr I Can’t Even Commit To A Pet, Mr Soulmates Are Not A Thing That Exist, bought a costume, and sprayed (or, fucking hell god help me DYED) his hair red, and posted a cute picture of him and his ranch partner/4000 year old tortoise/companion through life/actual soulmate and TAGGED IT INEFFABLE HUSBANDS.

it’s a couples costume!!! it’s impossible for it not to be, considering they are two of the most well known canonically in love gay men on the internet right now!! it’s a thank you to their little phannies online who make them feel safe and comfortable enough to do what they do every day. and it’s a shoutout to the progress they have made in 15 years. a ‘hey, we’re here, we’re happy and gay and (in love) together’. and that’s SOO SPECIAL. ITS SO SPECIAL. and it means everything!!!!

AND ITS NOT EVEN JUST THE ONE PHOTO.

it’s the selfie on the story of them cute and couply and drinking the aziracrow drinks and looking happy and in love 😭

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON CAT AND BEAR SAVE THE WORLD VS HOWLEY AND AZIRAPHIL ARE HERE TO SAVE THE WORLD

anyway basically I’m so insanely proud of them, feeling very parasocial about the progress they’ve made in 15 years to get to a point where they’re comfortable enough to make phwedding jokes and gay jokes and jokes about both being switches and furries and in love. feeling so proud of them being out and proud and gay and in love and also I have a good omens tattoo so I’m choosing to believe they did this for me personally thank you x

[bruciemilf]

Can you please drop some of your oliver queen thoughts for someone dying for more oliver content (can't wait to read for him soon) 🥹🙂‍↕️🥹🥹🥹

OLIVER MY BELOVED—-

Listen.

I’m partially clueless about him as well, BUT. I did start to read more comics and consuming him more from random tumblr posts, which is more than anything DC writers can say for themselves SO—-

Girl dad but for boys. LOOK AT HIS BOYS LOOK AT THEM— have you seen his sons. Now you have.

Roy has to beg him to shut the fuck up about his smallest accomplishments, actually.

Connor is passively accepting this. Yeah, my dad’s cool. Not as cool as me, thought.

Is competitive as fuck. Oh oh, Red Hood drop kicked Bane so hard his knees broke? That’s cute. Roy has a DAUGHTER, BITCH. “You wish that was you, huh”

Clark can hear Bruce’s teeth gritting because yes, yes he does.

I feel like Oliver would embody the “got rich by accident” persona Keanu Reeves has going on. Thus, became Bruce’s first real friend because he was deeply unimpressed with him.

As children, he’d steal Bruce from galas (as in physically pick him up and drag him because Tiny) and make him steal deserts with him. (Alfred would see them and say nothing)

Bruce quietly asking him why he picked him. And he expects “because you’re Bruce Wayne.”

But Oliver shrugs, once, handing Bruce his half eaten pistachio cake. It’s been their tradition.

Bruce only orders it when he knows Ollie will attend. “Because you were a kid. And you were scared. Why else?”

Only one who knows Alfred’s secret cookie recipe.

He and Bruce were not only collage friends, they were ROOMATES. I specifically think Oliver saw his goth turtle of a best friend got accepted into GA and thought I have GOT to watch out for this idiot

Bruce’s comfort clothes include Ollie’s old collage jersey

When Bruce drops out of med school, Oliver’s incredibly pissed off at him. “Do you have any idea how privileged ‘I don’t want to do it’ is?“

And Bruce, shakily, says he does.

“So what the hell are you doing this for?!”

“Because I don’t want them to suffer just to be like me.”

UNCLE OLLIE RIGHTS. Whenever Dick was pissed at Bruce, he’d steal one of his cars and drive to Starr City, fully allowing Bruce to think he was kidnapped.

Convinced Ollie to take pictures of him tied up and send them to Bruce for ransom money.

Bruce and Oliver are “hasn’t seen a single movie since he was 8” bff vs “physically incapable of not quoting his favorite movies all the time” bff

Sends 2000’s memes to the JL group chat and only Clark likes them

He has Dinah’s name tattooed like a trampstamp

[jenniekrj]

“I said,delete it.”{Roommate!Dom!Hyunjin x Sub!F!Reader}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings:Mentions of drinking alcohol and smoking weed,blowjob,fingering,cum play,daddy kink,choking,spitting,riding,unprotected sex,spanking,creampie,oral sex and just straight up filth.

A/N:The tumblr algorithm works on reblogs,so please consider rebloging so it can reach more people,enjoy!! 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin has been your roommate for over a year now and it has been great.Sure you didn’t know much about each other,but you still really liked his company around the place.

All you knew about him is that he would often go to parties,come home late at night drunk and high,bring girls over and have the nastiest sex with them,smoke lots of weed and just smoke in general,have parties at your shared apartment and cook really good food.He seemed very popular and like everybody just wanted to be around him.

At some point,all the pornographic moans that came out of his bedroom did annoy and bother your sleep,but his kindness and calm energy made up for all the disturbances.

Last week,he started following your Instagram.All he did was just view your stories and very rarely like anything you post.You guys never chatted on there,but why should you? You have his number and you literally live with the man.

Hyunjin was almost everyone’s type,he was muscular,tall,handsome,funny,smart,he had a few tattoos,charismatic,strong and he was two years older than you.Just your type.

It was your second year of college and you made a few friends,they were the best.On the other hand,Hyunjin had a whole group and there might be more that you don’t even know of.

Every weekend he would invite his friends over and pull an all-nighter with them.You knew his friends since they follow you on Instagram.You only ever said a simple ‘Hey,how are you guys?’ whenever you saw them.

-

It was a Saturday night and you were very bored,all you did all day was lay in your bed.You were thinking of ways to cure your boredom when you suddenly got the idea to post some pictures on your Instagram account,so you got up and picked an outfit from your closet.

After you put the outfit on you posed in front of the large mirror and snapped a couple of photos.You were wearing a baby blue lace mini crop top with a white mini skirt and some knee high socks.

You weren’t lying if you said you dressed this slutty just for Hyunjin to see,you had the most massive crush on the older and it wasn’t just some random crush,it was a sexual type of crush and you couldn’t help it.You posted the photos with the caption, “Is this sexy enough for you?” It was obvious you were trying to get someone’s attention,and it might’ve worked.Not even five minutes later and your post had so many likes and comments,people loved this look,especially Hyunjin.

You were scrolling around on your feed when a notification pops up,it’s from none other than Hyunjin,he sent you a DM.Of course,you rush to his profile and check the DM.

“Delete the post,I saw it already.”

Is all he said.

“What? Who said it was for you?”

You replied back,you wanted to seem hard to get even though this post way mainly for him to see.

“I said,delete it.”

He said before barging into your room.

“You really think I’m gonna let other people see what’s all mine,hmm Y/N?” Hyunjin said as he grabbed you by the arm and pinned you against the wall. “But,we’re not even dating,why do you care?” You replied back,trying to push back the urge to just kiss him right there.Your voice was shaking and almost filled with stutters,but you couldn’t show him your weak side,you wanted to see how far you could push him. “You belong to me,Y/N.I’ve seen and heard how you touch yourself to the sounds of me fucking other women,so don’t act all dumb right now.”

What? How’d he know? How’d he know you get wet by just the thought of him? It’s insane how well he knows you when you’ve barely spoken to each other,but you liked it.

“Mmm,how about you get the fuck out of my face?” You said,trying to seem intimidating,but Hyunjin wasn’t having it. “How about I fuck that attitude out of you? You’d like that,wouldn’t you?” It’s almost like he read you,and you enjoyed everything about it.

“Make me.”

“Bet.”

Was all he replied before smashing his lips onto yours,he pulled you closer into a rough but sloppy kiss and you just let him have you.His hands ran all over your body and your arms were wrapped around his neck,occasionally caressing his face and tangling your fingers in his hair.

Hyunjin moved his lips down to your neck,he slightly bit on your skin only to find your sweet spot,once he had found it he started sucking hard.He grabbed your ass,giving it a few light smacks.

“Get on the bed.” He said after he pulled away,signaling with his head towards your bed.You laid yourself onto your bed,with only your elbows holding you up.

Hyunjin dropped to his knees and kissed all over your inner thigh.You sighed a little before you had realized he was getting higher.He ran his fingers up and down across your clothed clit.He then slid your panties off and almost immediately attached his lips to your swollen cunt. “Fuck,you’re so wet.All for me,right?” Hyunjin said before licking up your folds while maintaining eye contact.You cried out a ‘yeah’ only for him to slap your thighand say “Use your words,princess.” Even though he knows you can’t utter a proper word,he still wanted to tease you a little. “Come on,don’t make me say it again.” Hyunjin says into your pussy which makes your head fall back. “Yes yes! Oh- please just go faster,I’ll do anything for you daddy,please.” You practically scream,not yet processing what you had just said.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Since you’re so nice.”

He said before his tongue thrusted in and out of your pussy.It drove you insane at how good he was.Though,you were expecting this because of how loud the women were whenever he brought them over.

“I- cum please..” you managed to speak as you rolled your hips. “Go on,cum for me like a good slut would.” Hyunjin encouraged you and you came almost immediately after he spoke.You came all in his mouth and all over his face. “Fuck,you taste wonderful.” He praised.

He sat next to only to say, “Get on your knees.” and of course,you did as he said.You almost immediately dropped to your knees and started undoing his sweatpants.Once they were off,your eyes widened at how large he was and he just smirked.

“Too big? Or are you just weak?”

“Don’t fucking call me weak,Hyunjin.”

“Cutie.”

You rolled your eyes and started stroking his dick,he rolled his head back and his right hand went to your head. “Open up.” And you did.

You licked the slit on his tip as he groaned,you could tell how much he enjoyed this.Your eyes started getting watery as you slowly took his whole dick in. “Come on,be a good girl and take all of me.I know you can.” Hyunjin said with a moan coming after his words.

You started bobbing your head as tears fell down each one of your cheeks,even though it hurt you still loved it.His grip on your hair tightened as he moved your head closer to his veiny cock. “Fuck,right there baby.I’m so close.” He moaned out and came right after his announcement.

You felt your mouth get filled with a warm and thick liquid that tasted sweet.You were about to swallow,but Hyunjin stopped you and said, “Open your mouth.” You did as he said and he stuck two fingers in,he moved his fingers all around your cum-filled mouth and soon took them out,only to put them into his mouth and lick all of the cum off of his fingers. You swallowed and got up to sit next to him,but Hyunjin had other plans.He laid down and pulled you on top of him.

“Ride me.”

“What?”

“Come on,don’t run away from it.”

“I’m not,I just..”

“What? What is it,sweetheart?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s fine,I’ll teach you nice and slow.”

You nodded your head and positioned yourself above his still hard dick and slowly lowered yourself onto him.You gasped at how much he stretched you out and he just let out a dark chuckle. “Hyu-Hyunjin it’s too much.” You stuttered as you breathed out. “I know ma,but you can take,right? Aren’t you a good girl?” He said as he caressed your face. “Ye-yes I am!” You said as you started moving your hips.

“You like that?” Hyunjin said as he thrusted up into you and your response was just moans and whimpers. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled.You bounced up and down on his dick and all you could think of was how good it felt.

“Go faster,ma.” Hyunjin said after spanking your ass and grabbing onto your neck,basically chocking you.You tried to go faster even though your legs gave up a long time ago,but you went on and soon felt a knot in your stomach.His thrusts were becoming sloppier and you knew he was close. “I’m gonna c-cum,daddy.” You said. “Me too,princess.” Hyunjin said before you both came together.

His cum filled your cunt and now it was oozing out of your heated hole.Once you both came down from your high,you fell down onto him,your head now on his chest.Hyunjin flipped you over,now he was on top of you.He grabbed your jaw and said, “Open up,baby.” He spat in your mouth and you swallowed.Hyunjin leaned down and kissed you,but this time it was a passionate kiss,slow but still somewhat messy.Your tongues moved in sync as his hands slowly massaged your tits.He pulled away,leaving you panting and breathing heavily.

You laid there for a couple of minutes when it hit you that his friends are still coming over in a few minutes.Your eyes widened and you tried to push him off of you. “What’s wrong?” Hyunjin questioned. “Your friends,aren’t they coming?” You looked at him with a slight pout. “Yeah,but that’s nothing to worry about and you said you would do anything,

right my love?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[firstkanaphans]

Do you think that Kant will get into the bdsm part? Or is he truly only doing it for the job? Because like currently I don't see him falling for Bison, he is more annoyed and playing? But then in front of the door to bisons house he gave him a smooch and bison was so out of it he didn't have to do that????

My read on the situation right now is that Kant is too worried about getting information for Captain Chris to care about much else. I think he likes Bison, but is playing up just how much to gain his trust. His top priority is getting out from under Captain Chris’s thumb however he has to do it. I do think he was into what they were doing at the tattoo parlor, though. It’s just that last scene that was a hot mess—but that was Kant’s fault. He drugged Bison, thinking he would just pass out, but instead he decided he wanted to tie him up, leaving Kant completely at a killer’s mercy while Bison was too altered to actually be a safe partner.

I think what that scene is really trying to highlight is that there is no trust between Kant and Bison yet. Kant doesn’t feel safe and his reluctance towards the BDSM likely stemmed from that lack of trust rather than the BDSM itself. I’m interested to see if we’ll get a parallel to that scene later in the show when they actually do trust each other.

And while we’re talking about that scene…Jojo posted this picture on Twitter, so I’m assuming the first few minutes of episode 4 are going to be Bison finally passing out and Kant having to free himself from his bindings. Which is A+ comedy, truly.

[blue-jisungs]

tattoo

# author’s note … LOLOLOLOLOLOL GOING INSANE BC OF THIS MAN SOMEONE LOVK ME UP IN AN ASYLIUM BEFORE I START BUTING AND CHEWINT KN STUFF SKZOSIWJWJWNNENWWN IM NOT SORRY FOR THIS ONE

# warnings … wow um there’s a lot to unpack but swearing, yn calls him a slut once LMFAOOO, shirtless seungmin!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a bit chaotic at first teehee ++ not proofread bc i literally started typing w/o thinking n just wanted to post it for @slytherinshua

oh right it’s inspired by this pic here 😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹😹

“what the absolute fuck is that?”

your voice echoes through the room, causing seungmin to jerk up. his slightly sore muscles from exercising moments ago tensed, a hiss escaping his lips.

“what do you mean, angel?” his voice was soft. your eyes scanned him up and down, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. seungmin was scared, to be frank. you never were so distressed about… anything, really.

“this, dumbass!” you whined and turned your phone to face him.

your boyfriend’s eyes widened upon seeing the picture he shared with villains today. his rib reveal tattoo, to be specific. he didn’t think you’d mind, it’s not like he didn’t share pictures of his chest or arms before. 

“villains get to see your tattoo before me?” you grunted and tucked your phone away “and, and… what even is that behavior, seungmo?!” 

crossing your arms and looking away, he started to understand what was your issue.

seungmin returned to his previous position before you barged into his bedroom and leaned his back against the wall. scanning your face, only to notice the flushed cheeks and nervous lip biting, he was certain what was it really about.

“you don’t have to be jealous, you know, angel” he hummed, a satisfied smirk forming on his face when he saw your eyes widen now. gotcha, that was exactly it. or maybe… “are you shy?”

“no!” you replied a bit faster and louder than intended, so you cleared your throat “no, not at all. i see men’s bare chest allll the time”

“oh really?” seungmin scoffed, clearly amused. you were so cute, he was about to burst “don’t say that or i’ll get jealous too”

“yeah, it was a lie. other men aren’t such sluts” you giggled and saw his eyes roll. obviously he liked the attention, you didn’t even blame him for that. but still…

you let out a deep sigh and plopped next to him onto the bed.

“i guess just give ma a warning next time…” your quiet murmur was followed by a sudden, sharp inhale.

seungmin lifted his back slowly and leisurely, almost teasingly, took his shirt off. the sun peeking through the window shone on his bare skin, making the tone of it even more honey colored and contrasting with the white sheets perfectly. then it hit you like a train, and a wave of heat spilled over your body. his perfectly toned stomach is on display and you are staring at it like a dog at a piece of meat–

“like what you see?” he asked with a boyish smirk. one hand traveling to rest under his head, atop of that his arm muscles flexing.

turning your gaze away, you bit the inside of your cheek. when you wanted to scold him about the picture, you didn’t expect him to do this. seungmin is still opening up to you, being the timid person he is, and skinship in your relationship so far only consisted of handholding, hugging and kisses. not that you minded, you enjoyed taking time and slowly but surely building your relationship based on trust. 

but this… 

“ah, come on. don’t be shy now” he hummed smugly, observing your eyes trace back to his exposed skin. 

“are you okay with… yknow…” you stuttered, not even able to finish your thought. seungmin giggled, possibly killing you inside even more. wanting to hide from his sight, a bit overwhelming at the moment, you leaned and laid next to him. burying your face in his neck seungmin could feel the heat radiating off it. 

“i’m fine. villains got to see it, so you should too, hm? besides, it’s gonna be summer soon. get used to this sight, angel” he said and his other hand traced down to your waist. drawing small circles on your skin, you sighed. 

“you’re way too cocky” with a mumble, you fixed your position a bit and saw his stomach again. you could see the way it rose up and down rhythmically and you were wondering if he was in distress as much as you were. 

suddenly you noticed the ink on his rib and smiled softly. 

“can i…” you gulped, shyly. it took him a while before realizing what you meant. with a gentle nod, you decided to reach out slowly. 

as you traced the tattoo subtly, almost feather-lightly as if scared that you will hurt him, the skin underneath your fingertips was hot and tender. only when you did that, seungmin’s composure fell apart - like a building made out of legos - and his breath hitched. 

he never showed the tattoo to anyone (well, besides villains now), not to mention touching it. but he enjoyed the intimacy of the gesture. seugmin adored the way you were so careful with it, love and care in your eyes.

“what does it mean?” you whispered, the weight of this moment bringing a sudden realization of how quiet it is in the room. 

“always be thankful six nine nine nine oh two” your boyfriend’s voice had a tint of melancholy in it, casing your heart to melt. it was what the tattoo said. “those are the birth years of my parents, brother and me” 

you hummed in acknowledgement, smiling. you leaned a bit closer and pecked the tattoo. then you returned to your previous position and rested your head in the crook of your neck. 

basking in the quiet and calm moment, at the verge of falling asleep, you heard seungmin’s wiper as he pulled you closer.

“i should add your birth year there one day”

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.

[badaspebble]

✵ Come get me

Summary: Bada hasn’t been paying attention to you lately, which is starting to be frustrating. At first it was fine, seeing how much work she had to put into her team. Now that SWF was over, there was no need for her to pay so much attention to them. Guess you’ll have to make her pay attention to you.

Warnings: 18+ themes, (Dom!Bada, jealous!Bada, kinda mean!Bada but she’s soft at the end, strap-on use, teasing, hair pulling, semi-public, praise, edging, choking, swearing, dacryphilia)

Word Count: 3.8k

Bada Lee x fem!reader

@ijdtfsc Here you go! I hope it’s to your liking. I know you wanted them to go home and fuck, but I felt like if Bada finally had enough of reader, she wouldn’t be able to wait.

MDNI

Bada ignored your texts for the 6th time that day. You’ve been trying to set up a date for the both of you, hoping to relieve some of her stress, but she can’t even take her attention off of the team for a couple hours. You sighed as you threw your phone somewhere before plopping face first onto the bed. Staying there for a couple minutes, you almost fell asleep. Bada’s scent invaded your nose as you were on her pillow. For a minute, you almost forgave her. Just for a minute though.

When you sat back up, you ended up getting mad again. You huffed as you looked for your phone, cursing how dumb you are for throwing it somewhere in order to be dramatic. You found it by her hoodie, along with a picture she took in a rather...vulnerable state. You remembered that day. Bada was the most jealous she’s ever been.

You blinked, mind blanking for a second before you giggled. Your plan started forming. You might have to do it again…

You picked your phone up, going on Instagram before setting everything up. You picked a baby blue lacy skirt, paired with a baby blue lace bra. Rushing through your makeup, you couldn’t wait to see how Bada will act out. Taking your phone to capture a mirror photo and another photo where you’re slightly bent over was easy, unlike thinking of a caption to make Bada mad enough.

Sighing, you pondered on it a bit. Finally, you made a..lowkey bad one but you’re sure Bada will get the message. ‘Come get me ;)’

You scrunched your eyebrows together at the corny caption, but ultimately clicked post anyway. Turning your phone over, you finished getting ready before sending a text to your friends in order to let them know you’re ready.

Hearing a ding from your phone, you picked it up thinking it was your friends saying they were here. Instead, you got multiple messages, to say the least, from Bada.

‘What are you wearing

You’re not going out like that are you?

Hello?

Don’t leave like that.

Why are you showing everybody what’s mine?

I thought we talked about this

Can you take those down?

You better not fuck with me today baby

I’m not in the mood.

Hello?????

Call me’

More texts followed, along with numerous missed calls. You giggled before leaving her on seen. You turned your phone on DND and realized your friends were here so you hurriedly left the house and hopped in their car. The ride to the club was quick as it isn’t very far from the house.

Walking in, you were met with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and weed. You didn’t wait for your friends as you immediately went towards the dance floor, finding some cute girl to dance with. She looked older than you by quite a few years, and she had a particular tattoo on her shoulder. You bit your lip, deciding to grind on her and drink from her cup. She laughed at you before yelling something.

“What’s your name?” The stranger yelled over the loud music.

“It doesn’t matter.” You yelled back, drinking the rest of the alcohol from her cup. You threw it somewhere behind you before wrapping your arms around her neck.

“I’m Monika..” She whispered into your ear as she put her hands on your waist. “You here to let off some steam? You seem tense.” Monika teased as she squeezed your hips.

You snuggled into her neck, inhaling her scent. “Mmm, you could say that. I’ve been ignored lately.” You say with a pout.

Monika laughed…in your face. “You came here cause you felt ignored? Oh you sweet girl. Do you want me to help you?”

You looked at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. You were thinking of a million excuses a minute to say. (Un)lucky for you, you felt a large hand grab your shoulder. “Excuse us, ma’am. This is my ‘sweet girl’. Sorry for bothering you.”

Bada’s voice cuts through, and her grip is harsh on your shoulder. Monika looks at Bada with a smile. “She’s not bothering me at all, actually. I think we were just getting started, weren’t we?” Monika asks you, still looking at Bada.

You smirk, taking this chance like a dumbass. “We were. If you don’t mind us..” You take Monika’s hand and go closer to the middle of the dance floor. You look back at Bada, seeing her breathing heavier with her gaze turning darker every second. You look closer and see her fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Blowing a teasing kiss towards her, you look forward again and step closer to Monika.

Bada breathes out a laugh at your audacity, not actually thinking you’d be bold enough to do this shit in front of her. She licks her lips before biting her bottom lip. She puts her hands in her pockets and walks over to a booth, staring at you the entire time. Bada relaxes, knowing nobody will ever compare to her. You’re probably just in a mood again.

You can feel her burning stare as you move your hips, Monika’s hands guiding you against her. You don’t know how many drinks you’ve had. All you know is that you’ve been taking Monika’s whenever she gets more from her friends. A new song comes on, making the entire club hype. Gone was the sexy, slow dancing type of vibe. Everybody was jumping around, screaming and yelling as they let go. You were no exception as you let go of Monika, opting to finally let loose. Your hair bounces with you as you jump and push through the crowd.

You look towards Bada’s direction, wanting to tease her a bit more. You see her still staring daggers at you before she smirks. She leans back and manspreads, tilting her head at you.

Gulping, you turn your body around, still keeping an eye on her. You then bring a hand towards your ass and grab it, hoping to rile Bada up. Before you could see a reaction, people started jumping around again. You laughed as you joined them, momentarily forgetting your plan.

Your body takes a quick screenshot as you feel somebody grab your waist. Turning around, you felt a little relieved and also a little scared to see Bada. “Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” You said jokingly, dragging out the word.

Bada stared at you, not saying anything. After a couple of minutes, you heard her voice. “Let’s go.” She demanded, not leaving any room for anything else other than obedience.

You found some room anyways. “Nuh uh..” You said with a smile. “I’m having fun here.”

Bada turned back towards you, previously turning away so she could walk you out. “Why are you so bratty today, hm?” Bada asked, her voice filled with annoyance.

“I’m not even being bratty. I’m just here to have fun and you’re here to ruin it.” You said, looking away. Your gaze found Monika’s as she made her way over.

Bada rolled her eyes as Monika approached. She tried to take your hand to lead you out but you avoided contact.

Monika stared at you, completely ignoring Bada. “I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you. Let’s go have some fun, yeah?”

You giggled, looking towards Bada before staring back at her. “Sure. Let me get some drinks first.”

Before Monika could say anything, Bada forcefully took your arm. She bumped shoulders with her, making sure Monika stumbled a bit.

You whispered to Monika as you walked by her. “Me personally…..I would not take that.” Your goal was to rile her up and in turn, rile Bada up. It didn’t work as Monika just laughed it off, opting to walk away.

You scrunched your eyebrows together in disappointment, hoping to at least get some amount of drama. Sighing, you let Bada drag you before you decide to poke fun at her.

“Why does your face look like you’re constipated?” You teased, feeling her grip tighten as her nails dig into you. Wincing, you continue talking. “No need to get all mad. I was just having some fun since somebody can’t make time for me..”

Bada rolled her eyes, ignoring your comments as you both finally approached her car.

She stayed silent as she all but threw you into the passenger seat, slamming the door. She makes quick work as she hurries to the driver's side.

“Why are you mad? YOU ignored ME.” You say sassily, leaning your head on the window.

She continued to ignore you, starting the car. She doesn’t look at you once as she starts driving.

“I’m the one that should be mad..” You mumble. You didn’t expect her to hear it, but seeing as her grip on the steering wheel tightened with her knuckles turning white, you could tell that she was holding herself back.

You continued. “Surprised you even noticed my post instead of hanging with Tatter and them.” You specifically single out Tatter’s name, knowing Bada was especially close with her.

Bada bit her tongue, completely over it. She pulled over on the side of the road, unbuckling herself. She looked over at your confused face.

“You’ve been awfully bold today, baby.” She said, picking you up and setting you on her lap. She made sure to set her chair back a little. “I had a feeling I’d have to use this today..” Bada whispered, grinding you ever so gently on her lap, making you feel the bulge under her cargos.

Bada looked up at you, gripping your hips. “Maybe you need to get fucked, right? That’s why you’re acting like this..” Bada bit her lip and continued, making sure to keep direct eye contact. “You just needed me to make you feel good again.”

You whimpered. “Are you gonna do something or not? I think I got Monika’s number in case I needed somebody else..”

Bada breathed through her nose harshly before switching your positions, you back against the laid out seat. “Learn your place before I fuck you into it.” She leaned down and whispered into your ear. Her hot breath making you shiver. She then bit the top of it as she moved back, kneeling between your legs.

“And what’s with signaling out Tatter?” Bada said casually as she started grinding her hips into yours.

“What’s with always hanging out with her and the rest of them?” You shoot back, trying not to buck your hips. You dig your nails into the seat as you shy away from her eyes.

Bada giggled in disbelief. Her hand cupped your cheek in faux innocence. “You should know by now that my eyes are only on you.” Her tone started to change as the hand cupping your cheek started to grip your jaw. “Stop being a fucking brat.” Bada spat as she stopped grinding on you, using her hands to trace the outline of your bra. “And going out like this? This isn’t even a fucking top.” She said, slapping the side of your bra-clad boob.

Your half-lidded eyes looked up at her, drinking in the way her teeth were digging into her lip harshly. “Doesn’t it look cute?” You say with a giggle before your eyes widen. The hand holding your jaw trailed towards your neck. You started to say something until you were interrupted by her giggle.

Bada was going to hold your neck, but you just kept talking. She was starting to get annoyed so she shoved two of her fingers inside of your mouth, effectively shutting you up. Her other hand trailed your body, running between your cleavage. She got to the band of your skirt, running her long fingers over the patterns. Her fingers went further down your throat, making you gag with your eyes watering.

“I love it when you’re quiet baby.” She said, focusing on your skirt. Her hands abruptly landed on your waist, turning you over so your stomach is on the seat. She unclasps your bra, throwing it somewhere in the back.

“Do you have to be this dramatic?” You sighed into the seat, moving uncomfortably. You felt her hands trail your back, almost giving you a massage with the way she was pressing into you.

“Shut the fuck up.” She said before you heard the sound of rustling. You felt her flip your skirt up, not even bothering to take it off. “You’re already so wet…this is what you wanted, right?” You felt her pause, waiting for your answer.

You turned your head to the side, making sure you could see her. “Mhm…” You said, avoiding her eyes out of embarrassment.

“Good girl.” Bada mumbled before palming your ass in both of her palms. She bit her lip, smacking it as she watched it jiggle. “Love your ass so much baby. Wanna have it on me forever..”

You whined, pushing your hips against her. That’s when you realized the rustling you heard was her moving her cargos down just enough to where her strap was out. Your body stuttered, feeling the tip of it hit your clothed cunt.

Bada muttered something you couldn’t understand. She then spoke louder as she gripped her strap. “Spread your legs a lil more baby…there you go angel.”

She held the strap in her left hand while her right hand was still gripping your ass. The tip of it teasingly poked your cunt through your panties. Bada gasped subtly, loving the string of wetness that connected them even with the fabric in the way. “God…such a needy little thing aren’t you, angel?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing your body back so she could understand what you wanted. Bada chuckled at you as you proved her right. She gave a light smack to your ass and pulled your panties aside, letting the tip of her strap hit your clit.

Bada’s eyes almost rolled back at your whoreish moan paired with your cunt very obviously clenching around nothing. She started to spread your wetness everywhere with each pass of her strap, wanting to be as sloppy as possible. She ignored your whines as she took her time. She carefully smacked your clit with the tip of her strap, making you moan into the seat.

“Wanna feel you fill me up..” You mumble, trying to look back at her.

“Gotta be patient princess. I’ll fuck you real good, don’t worry.” Bada mumbled, teasing your hole with the tip. She would put it in and pull it out, not giving you the satisfaction of actually being filled up.

She slowly eased into you, letting you feel every detail on her strap before she was completely inside you. You heard her sigh as she stayed still, not moving.

Pushing back onto her, you began to fuck yourself because you couldn’t bother to wait for her to do something. Your cunt was wet, wanting to be used, so you did it yourself.

Before you could actually get a good pace, you felt Bada’s hand snake up your back before finding its place in your hair. She pulled harshly, snapping your head up as you stopped. Your moan was loud and shameless, your cunt gushing around her strap.

“Whatchu think you’re doing baby?” Bada leaned over your body to mumble in your ear. “Hm? Who said you could fuck yourself like that?” She still hasn’t moved herself, letting you warm her strap. When you didn’t answer her, her grip on your hair turned harsher as she finally started thrusting into you. It was slow, deliberate. She wanted to make you desperate for more.

Your mouth opened as your eyes watered a little, still feeling the pain of her strap stretching you out. You bit the seat, letting yourself be used by her.

Her pace picked up, as the hand that was gripping your ass now played with your breasts. “I fucking love your body. So pretty for me. You like when I fuck you like this? Yeah?” Your moans made her go slightly faster. “I know, angel…” She mumbled off-handedly, making sure she hit your sweet spot that had you mewling.

Bada laughed as she kept fucking you. “Awe. My poor baby. You gonna cum already? Gonna make a mess all over my cock?”

You whimpered, loving that she referred to her strap as her cock. Your cunt clenched around her, feeling the grip she had on your hair tighten. Your eyes closed momentarily, trying to find something to say. “I- fuck Bada…gonna cum.” You finally moaned out. “Gonna make a mess..”

Bada hummed, speeding up. She played with your breasts gently. The difference between that and her rough fucking made your head spin. All you could hear was the sound of skin slapping, panting, and Bada’s little mumbles.

You could feel yourself about to let go, before Bada abruptly stopped. You couldn’t stop yourself from whining. You could tell that orgasm was going to be strong. Your watery eyes now let tears fall, mixing with the drool on your chin.

“You’ve been such a brat, baby. I can’t just let you cum like that.” Bada mumbled, pretending to be sad that she couldn’t let you orgasm. You didn’t say anything, opting instead to whine into the seat. You didn’t notice when she moved the both of you in the back seat, nor did you notice the way you were now on your back.

You didn’t really notice anything except the feeling of being full again. Your eyes widened in confusion at the fast intrusion, before looking at Bada. She was already looking at you with that annoying smirk of hers. Her bangs sticking to her forehead as she slowly rolled her body into yours.

“You just can’t help yourself, huh?” Bada said, making sure your eyes stayed on her. She had one hand on your waist, with the other trailing towards your neck again. Bada leaned over your body, the difference in size clear. She put her hand around your neck, slowly putting her body weight on that arm to choke you. “I love when you cry for me princess..”

Bada wasn’t looking at you anymore, but instead focused on the tears that fell from your eyes. She started kissing each drop, making sure to let her tongue come out a little too. You whimpered at her actions, hazy eyes looking anywhere but at her. The hand wrapped around your neck felt good, but you were slowly losing breath the more weight she put onto it.

“Bada—“ You had the remaining breath knocked out of you as she picked up her pace, returning back to her previous position. Bada was enticed by the way your breasts jiggled with each thrust. This made her go harder, fucking you into the seat unintentionally. Every roll of her hips into your cunt had your body moving. Your hands were everywhere, trying to find something to grasp onto.

One went towards her hair, and the other got pinned down by your waist by Bada. “Fuck..fuck angel you look so pretty like this. Love the way you look so ruined cause of me—“ Bada cut herself off as she gave a particularly rough thrust. She groaned as she did so, the other side of the strap hitting her clit perfectly.

She leaned down again, this time aiming for your breasts. Her mouth was all over you, giving kisses and sucking anywhere she could get. Her thrusts got faster, wanting to feel your breasts jiggle against her. She sucked your nipples, making sure her teeth grazed the tip of them each time she pulled her strap out. The hand holding your neck moved downwards, wanting to palm your ass.

Your long, drawn out moan showed Bada that you were going to cum…very soon. She hummed against your nipple before pulling herself up. “Gonna make a mess, hm? I don’t know if I should let you..” Bada giggled, loving the fear in your eyes.

“Please Bada…won’t be a brat again.” You mumbled breathlessly, letting out more drool. Your fucked out expression and hazy eyes almost convinced Bada. Almost.

She pretended to think about it for a second, feeling it get harder to fuck into you. “Maybe you should beg some more…”

“Please please please….I’ll do anything I swear. I’ll never be a brat again Bada. Please make me feel good. Wanna cream on your strap..”

Bada bit her lip, fucking into you a couple more times. She could feel you about to lose control, so she stopped. Her eyes sparkled as you sobbed. “Maybe if you weren’t such a brat..” Bada pulled her strap out slowly as to tease you. She pulled your body up, cupping your face in her hands. “I’ll make you feel good when we get home okay baby? Until then, we should talk about how bratty you were.”

She took the strap off, cleaned it before putting it somewhere secure. She started to clean you up, hesitating when she saw how red and puffy your cunt was. She really wanted to taste you, but she also wanted to edge you for your actions. She ended up ignoring her neediness to finish cleaning you up. Bada sat you on her lap, looking up at you.

“Are you jealous of how much time I’m spending with others? Or do you maybe feel unwanted?” Bada asked, paying close attention to your expressions.

“So now you wanna pay attention?” You ask with sass. You scoffed jokingly as she tried to make eye contact.

You avoided her eyes, opting to look at the..fogged up windows? You ignored it before you opened your mouth. “You don't pay enough attention to me…it feels like we’re not even in a relationship.”

Bada smiled and wrapped her arms around your waist, making you scoot closer to her. She put her hand on your head and guided it towards her chest. “You’re the only one I ever want, angel. I’ll make sure to spend more time with you, okay? Nobody will ever compare to you, I promise.”

“I know they won’t.” You say with even more sass, rolling your eyes. “I just don’t like how close you are with your team…especially Tatter.” You mumble into her shirt.

Bada took a deep breath, holding you tighter. “Tatter and the rest of them don’t have anything on you baby. You’re my goddess. The only one for me.”

You smiled slightly, loving how reassuring she is. “Do you promise to pay more attention to me?” You leaned up and looked at her.

Bada held out her pinky. “I pinky promise, princess.” You looked at her pinky weirdly.

“You’re so childish..” You say jokingly, hooking your pinky with hers. “Can we go home?” You asked, looking around the car in faux curiosity, hiding the fact that the only reason you wanted to go home was to finally cum.

She smirked and smacked your ass. “You’re such a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

You both looked at each other, with Bada smirking before moving back up to the front. Bada looked at you one more time, seeing how hard you were squeezing your legs.

“Poor you…” Bada thought. She was going to have fun with you before she actually let you orgasm.

You looked towards her when you heard her giggle, side-eyeing her in distrust. “She’s definitely up to something.” You thought, sighing in disappointment at the inevitable teasing.

A/N: Bada is an ASS GIRL and loves sloppy sex idc what you guys say talk to a wall.

Also I’m ngl, I had hella trouble writing this cause I kept giggling at the words “boob” and “jiggle” LMAO

[makethemhoesmad]

first sight

dancing with our hands tied part one!

paige bueckers x reader

—

brooke’s pov

“holy shit brooke,” taniya shouts from her room. 

“what,” i yell back. it’s a questionable method of communication, but it works for us. i hear her footsteps clambering towards my room, then my door bursts open and taniya, my five-foot-barely anything roomate flings herself onto my bed.

“paige FUCKING bueckers commented on your post and all you did was like it? i thought i taught you better than this, bee,” taniya says, shaking her head at me.

“well, it’s not like-“

“HOLD ON,” taniya cuts me off, “she liked this comment saying ‘the spine tattoo…my god’ brooklyn mae johns she’s fucking in love with you.”

i roll my eyes at taniya’s wild predictions, which aren’t new to our friendship. “first of all, my name isn’t even brooklyn, second of all, wait, check my phone, who’s that message from?”

taniya picks up my phone, reads something, then screams at the top of her lungs and chucks my phone at me.

Paige💕

Hey was just wondering what college you went to?

i stare blankly at the screen, starstruck. taniya nudges me, motioning at the phone to respond.

Brookee🐝

Uconn, like you. 

Paige💕

Oh shit really? I didn’t know you knew so much about me😏

“is she really tryna flirt with me IN MY DMS right now?” i say out loud. taniya giggles.

“no shit sherlock, that’s why she slid into your dms. tell her you like basketball or something!”

Brookee🐝

i mean, i like basketball and my dorm isn’t that far from gampel. the mcdonald’s like twenty minutes away is like ten times cooler tho.

“you sneaky shit,” taniya snickers.

Paige💕

Fr you should meet me there in like 30.

Brookee🐝 

No shit?

Paige💕

Yeah i’ll see ya then

i swipe out of instagram and start pacing around my room, opening drawers and holding things up to my body.

“bee, cool it. paige is about to show up in team travel gear, so your sweatpants and cute ass tank top are fine. put on some mascara or something if it’ll help you chill, but you’ll look great.” taniya is a little psychotic most of the time, but she’s calm as fuck in these situations.

i twist my hair up into a clip and climb into my car, palms sweaty. i don’t know why i agreed, this is so creepy and random.

Paige💕

i’m otw, u almost there?

Brookee🐝

yeah almost, ps don’t text and drive

Paige💕

hypocrite

Brookee🐝

😔

~

“hey brooke!” i hear a voice from behind the booth im sitting in, nursing a sprite and a small fry.

“hi paige,” i say, grinning. she smiles back, and slides into the other side of the booth, then reaches over and takes one of my fries.

“get your own,” i chide, while sliding the fries closer to her. “besides that, why’d you randomly want to know what college i go to?”

she shifts in her seat. as she opens her mouth, a waitress comes by with a happy meal. paige opens it up and dumps her fries into the other end of the nugget box. before she eats, i quickly snap a picture.

“you don’t mind if i post this? it’s kinda how im paying for my guilty pleasures.”

she nods, “yeah, tag me. anyway, i asked you about what college you went to because i thought i knew you from somewhere, but i just could not figure out what. also, you’re like, really pretty so i wanted to talk to you.”

she blushes at the last part, which makes my cheeks go a bit pink. 

“well, you’re not exactly bad looking yourself. when can i see you again, because it’s getting late and i want to see my bed,” i say. taniya would be proud of my straightforwardness.

“Well, i’ve got tickets to a Sun & Fever game for monday, and the person i was going with just bailed on me, so do you wanna come?” 

i blink at paige in shock. i’ve literally known her in person for maybe twenty five minutes and she’s already offering me things?

“i mean, im not doing anything, and the Sun’s arena isn’t that far, is it?” i ask, hoping to get any more information on whatever she’s proposing.

“yeah, it’s probably only like an hour with traffic, but i can pick you up and drive you home if you want? or we can get a hotel? i have a hotel, but i can cancel it if you wanna you home, i just didn’t want to drive again after the game because leaving would be hell.”

i nod, hoping it looks cool and confident and not utterly confused.

“yeah, we can keep the hotel, it’s okay.”

“aight, i’ll get you on monday around three.” 

paige walks me out to my car, and as i climb in, she grabs my hand and squeezes it. once i see that she’s gone, i call taniya.

“Bitch do i have so much to tell you.”

[pitchsidestories]

eras of us (2) II Ona Batlle x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2662

a/n: the second and final part to eras of us with the promised happy ending, enjoy. <3

Barcelona had changed since Onas departure. Or at least it felt like it. She had been such an integral part of your daily life that you constantly found yourself longing for her presence in every situation. Every time you went to training, you were painfully reminded that you were without your best friend.

Time and time again, you tried to convince yourself that this was a decision that every football player would have to make at some point in their career. Still, you could not shake the weird mix of feelings that her transfer had created.

Of course, your team mates noticed that your mood had changed.

After a particular hard training in the Catalonian sun, Leila took you aside before you could disappear into the dressing room: “Ona… she misses you.“

You frowned at her, not sure where the conversation about Ona had come from. “Oh, sure. I think Ona seems very happy on the recent pictures she’s been posting.“, you replied and tried to push past Leila.

Mapi passed the two of you and gave you a wink: “Looks can be deceiving.“

“Listen to her. She’s got that tattooed.“, Leila grinned.

You rolled your eyes. As if anyone could miss the tattoo on Mapis throat.

“Yeah, I know what I’m talking about.“, Mapi laughed, stopping right next to you.

Shaking your head about your two team mates, you heaved a deep sigh: “But what am I supposed to do?“

A mischievous smirk appeared on Leilas face as she reached into the pocket of her warm-up jacket. She handed you a small envelope.

“No worries. Here is your ticket to Manchester and your return ticket to Barcelona.“

Speechless, you just stared at her and Mapi for a few seconds. How long had they planned that?

“You girls are insane!“, you finally exclaimed.

“No, we’re the best.“, Mapi corrected you.

“Thank you!“ You hugged both of them quickly, an inexplicable smile on your lips.

“Yeah, just remember to names us as team mates of the year.“, Leila joked.

You laughed: “I promise I will.“

“But now go before you miss your flight.“, Leila said, moving out of your way.

“Okay, got it. See you two soon!“, you called, hurrying into the dressing room to take a quick shower and race home to pack your suitcase.

“Good luck!“, Mapi shouted after you.

Smiling, Leila watched you disappear into the dressing room while wiping away an imaginary tear: “Our children grow up so fast.“

Alexia who had suddenly appeared next to Mapi, shook her head: “Leila, not all the gays in the team are your children.“

“It feels like they are.“

A few hours later you were at your best friend’s new home in England. Quickly you went up the stairs, feeling slightly breathless once you reached the right floor before you ringed the bell next to her surname plate.

Onas’s jaw dropped when she opened the door to her appartement in Manchester to see you standing there in flesh and bone:” Hello?”

“Oni, hi.”, you greeted her back, feeling your heart pound heavy against your chest at the familiar sight of her.

Still stunned she blinked: “You.”

“Yes, it’s me.”, you replied, running one hand through your hair, the other rested on the suitcase.

“What are you doing here?”, the defender furrowed her brows.

“I’m sorry how I reacted when you were saying you’d leave.”, you apologized, while looking guiltily down to your feet.

Hearing these words, Ona clenched her teeth:” It doesn’t matter.” But you could tell from her reaction that this was a lie.

“And Leila said you missed me.”, you added biting your lip as you spoke.

 “Maybe I did. You’re my best friend.”, she confessed. Lifting your head to face her again, you realized that the English weather made her look paler, but the freckles were still there.

Rather childish you responded: “Still? You seem pretty happy in Manchester now.”

Before answering your question, the United player showed you the old friendship bracelet you’ve made for her all those years ago and she was wearing even now although it did look old: “Still. And I’m happy here. The team and the coaches trust me.”

“That’s great. I’m glad they recognize your talent, you deserve it, Oni.”, you told her in an honest tone.

“Thank you. Uhm.. do you want to come in?”, Ona asked you, tousling shily through her bun.

“Sure.”, you nodded nervously while entering her appartement.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”, she blushed as you were taking in the view.

“It’s fine. Really.”, you reassured her. Glancing at the framed pictures which were not hanging up, yet you pointed to them:” Do you want to hang up the pictures?”

“Actually, yes.”

Meanwhile you were holding the first photo in your hands, you couldn’t help but to smile at the young girls which were pictured, celebrating a team win:” I love this one.”

“Oh, me too.”, the defender admitted.

“We all look so small on it, well Aitana still is.”, you commented grinning.

Seeming relaxed, Ona showed you another picture: “Yes, we do but this one is my favourite.”

You knew the photo well, it was taken after your first game for the Barcelona senior team and you spotted your best friend in the stands and went in to hug her, this moment forever being captured by the photographer on the pitch for which you were both grateful:” Mine too, you paused for a second before continuing seriously, we share a lot of memories together, hopefully to many more.”

2023

You could hardly explain to yourself how quickly the time had passed. One moment you spontaneously flew over to Manchester, the next you already found yourself in Australia at the tournament that you had anticipated for so long.

Playing in the World Cup was one thing, but you would never have dreamed of winning the trophy. It still felt surreal. You had just won the World Cup Final against England.You saw Ona walking towards you with a wide grin on her face.

“Ona, we won!“, you cheered.

She wrapped her arms around you: “We did.“

“I can’t believe it yet.“ You escaped her embrace and took in the atmosphere of the stadium and the celebration of your team mates.

Ona stood beside you. “It’s insane, right?“

“Definitely.“

The words hung between you for a few seconds as you watched on.

Ona shook her head suddenly, smiling to herself like she had just realized what had happened in the previous ninety minutes: “We’re World Champions.“

“Oh yes. Remember when…“, you started.

Aitana joined you, placing one arm around each of you and finished your sentence: “We pretended we won the World Cup? Yes.“ With smirk she added: “Do you still know the choreo?“

Onas face dropped: “You’re not going to do that at the actual World Cup!“

“Come on, Tana, we’ll do it.“, you said decisively, pulling the midfielder with you.

There was a small routine of dance moves that you had practiced when you had still played at La Masia together and the actual World Cup felt like millions of years away. Sometimes those dance moves would come out to celebrate a particularly special goal but mostly, they were reserved for exactly this moment.

“Coming!“, Aitana joined you while Ona just shook her head.

Olga elbowed the defender in the side, watching you and Aitana dance in synchrony: “Ona, what are they doing?“

“Being idiots.“, she laughed.

At the same time, Aitana managed to pull her phone from somewhere to capture the moment in a selfie.

“Come on, the photo isn’t complete without you!“, you called over to her.

Ona rolled her eyes with smile: “Ugh, fine. But only for one photo.“

“Perfect.“, Aitana commented as Ona appeared between the two of you.

“Did it turn out cute?“, Ona asked, leaning over to see her team mates phone screen.

“It did.“

The celebrations continued the whole night. There was the initial celebration at the pitch which was then moved to the dressing room and lastly to the hotel. You had no idea what time it was or how many drinks you had but you were clinking your glass with the other players and yelling over the sound of the music: “Cheers, everyone!“

“Cheers, children.“, Alexia laughed, taking her sip from her own drink. She seemed way too sober for your liking.

“Ale, others are the children now.“, you explained to her with the most seriousness you could muster.

Jenni took a shot, grimaced and then said: “You’re still our children.“

“Exactly, nothing will ever change that.“, Alexia said with a gently smile.

“That’s embarrassing.”, Onas’s cheeks turning redder than before.

You were sitting in her lap and hid your face in her chest:” Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”, your friend asked giggling.

“Hiding from embarrassment.”, you mumbled into her shirt.

“So cute.”, Jenni hummed, who didn’t stop looking at you two.

“Let us alone!”, Ona begged the older woman.

She shook her head decisively:” No.”

“Please.”, you tuned in.

Clearing her throat Alexia got up from her seat:” Jen, time to leave the young lovers alone.”

“Fine.”, Jenni responded with a groan but nonetheless listened to what the younger midfielder said.  

“Come on.”, the Barcelona player winked at the dark-haired woman.

For a moment you and your best friend watched them leaving, before you turned around to question her, wearing a mischievous smile on your lips:” What do we do now with them gone, Oni?”

“Celebrate?”, the defender replied grinning.

“Yes!”, you nodded excitedly.

“But you had enough to drink.”, she noted with a laugh.

“Rude!”, you protested.

“It’s true.”, Ona observed.

Smiling mildly at you Aitana came to help her argument:”It’s.”

“See?”

“You two are no fun.”, you grumbled.

“I mean it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”, Ona remarked as she watched you joining the rest of players who were still dancing despite the exhausting final.

Amused Aitana was taking a seat next to the defender:” How does y/n still have the energy to dance though.”

“It’s the alcohol.”, she replied with an eyeroll.

“Definitely. Wanna bet she’s sleepy in like ten minutes?”, the midfielder asked smiling.

“Oh definitely.”, Ona nodded. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you. The soon to be Barcelona player was astonished at how effortlessly and elegant your dance moves despite your tipsiness.

Aitana’s prediction turned out to be true. With a little bit of help from Ona you reached the hotel room you two were sharing. Your eyes were already closed when your head hit the pillow:” I’m not tired yet.”

“Oh sure, I can tell. Good night, y/n.”, she chuckled.

“You too, love you.”, you replied about to fall asleep.

Suddenly Onas’s heart felt pounding hard against her chest when the defender pressed a kiss on your forehead:” I love you too.” She often told you how much she loved you but this time the words hit differently. It dawned on the player that she didn’t want you like a best friend. No the woman felt the urge to be your lover.

2024

“Aitana, I fell in love with my best friend.”, Ona confessed to Aitana with a heavy air of meaning.

A small smile was forming on the midfielder’s lips: “I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”, she glanced at her confused.

“There were so many moments in the past.��, Aitana began.

Still shocked Ona interrupted her:” I only realized it during the world cup final.”       

“In that case you’re very late to the party.”, the friend answered, her face couldn’t hide her amusement.

Bewildered, Ona exclaimed: “Tana!“

The midfielder just shrugged casually: “It’s true.“

“Oh, is it?“, Ona raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ask Ale and Jenni… and Mapi… and Leila. You could literally ask anyone in the team.“, Aitana chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.“

Aitana eyed her team mate carefully: “It does matter.“

Ona shook her head with a deep sigh: “No, you don’t get it. She told Ale that she doesn’t fancy me and wouldn’t go for her best friend.“

“Wasn’t that forever ago?“, Aitana asked, seemingly unimpressed.

“It was after our training… I feel so stupid…“

“She didn’t have an easy time here when you were in Manchester, Ona.“

“It wasn’t easy for me either.“, the defender admitted.

Aitana looked at her thoughtfully: “Maybe it’s time to talk to each other.“

Ona was quite for a moment before she nodded: “You’re right. Y/n and I need to talk.“

“You should.“

She pulled her friend into a quick hug. “Goodbye, Tana.“

“Bye, Ona.“

Of course, you were paired with Ona to share a room at Barcelonas next away game. Something must have conspired against you. Or Alexia had a hand in this. Ona and you hadn’t exchanged a single word since Alexias intervention after training a few days ago.

Of course, the silence in the hotel room was obnoxious. But you had no interest in changing that.

Ona was the first one to give in, sitting on the bed on her side of the room: “Y/n, stop ignoring me, please.“

“Bold coming from the person who ran away.“, you retorted. You refused to even look at her and instead focused on putting away your clothes.

“I didn’t run away!“

Slowly, you turned to her: “Yes, you did. When Ale talked to me about us.“

You expected her to object but she just looked at you with pleading eyes: “Please, can you just listen to me?“

You sighed reluctantly: “Alright.“

“Thanks.“

“So?“, you prompted her impatiently as soon as she stopped talking.

“Y/n…“

“Yes?“

You could tell that Ona struggled to get the words out but the suspense was almost killing you.

“I like you.“, she finally said.

“More than a best friend?“, you asked, surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Yes.“, Ona nodded.

You shook your head. Your gaze directed towards the ground, you whispered: “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.“

Ona had gotten up from the bed and bridged the gap between you two. Her hand gently found your cheek, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was so close, you could count the freckles on her face.

“Can it really ruin our friendship if we both want it?“, she asked quietly.

You slowly shook your head: “No, probably not…“

“I think we should try it.“

For the first time, your brain was silent. There was no counterargument you could think of. There was just your heart hammering in your chest.

“Agreed.“, you breathed.

And before you knew it, your lips were on your best friends. Ona hummed into the kiss, pushing harder against you and parting your lips with her tongue.

It knocked you off balance. You landed on your bed, Ona on top of you. You both giggled but refused to remove your lips from each others.

“Oh. My. God. Finally!“, Mapis voice called out, startling you.

“Mapi!“, you yelled at the exact same time, looking at your team mate who had just stumbled into your room.

She flashed you an innocent grin: “Sorry.“

“What do you want anyway?“, Ona asked, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Uhm… I was about to tell you that we’re starting to have dinner?“ There was no sign of remorse on Mapis face, just pure amazement at what she had just walked into.

“We’ll be there soon.“, Ona replied politely.

“Just give us a few more seconds.“, you added.

Mapi smirked: “You two know that Ale will sense it immediately?“

Ona nodded: “We do.“

“That’s why we need time to prepare ourselves for it.“, you joked.

“Okay, See you later.“ She disappeared through the door with a wink.

The two of you were alone again.

Ona bit her lip to hide a smile: “We don’t need time to prepare ourselves, we need time to make out. That’s what you meant right?“

“Yeah, I did.“, you admitted with a laugh.

Dinner could wait. Kissing all of your girlfriends freckles could definitely not.

[ladykailitha]

King of the Day!

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The last one on our list is: Steve is Tattoo Artist verse. You can read the story here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

The title comes from the European tradition of if the [insert object here] in the cake you were king for the day (I learned about it in my French three decades ago so if I got wrong sorry!).

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11

~

Steve was facing the dilemma of topping Eddie’s Christmas from last year. Where his band Corroded Coffin got their first gold record, which had gone platinum earlier this year. But if everything went right and Gareth didn’t forget his present to Eddie then he might just win.

But as it was right at that moment it was a disaster.

“What do you mean you lost my order?” Steve asked through gritted teeth. “I called confirmed it only yesterday and every week for the last three weeks!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure you’re spelling ‘Buckley’ correctly? It’s B-U-C-K-L-E-Y. Yes with an E. Thank you!”

“No ma’am, I’m not saying that you’re dumb or anything of the sort,” he continued dryly. “I just wanted to make sure it was going to be here on time. It’s already out for delivery. Thank you!”

He set the receiver gently in its cradle and then picked it back up again. Once he heard the dial tone he slammed it several times for good measure.

“You do know that I’ve done this for the last five years,” Robin snarked from the entrance to tattoo shop, “as my job. I don’t know why you won’t let me do it for this.” She walked into the shop and leaned against the counter. “You’re just stressing yourself out over nothing.”

Steve laid his head on the desk with a sigh, letting the cool surface calm his rage. “I just wanted to make tonight special.”

She scooped up his hands in hers. “It will be special because he loves you. Now, let’s see it.”

He reached into his pocket and handed her a small red velvet box. She opened it and smiled fondly. It was perfect. It was white gold with ruby in the middle and framed by four black spinel gemstones, two large close to the ruby and two smaller stones on the outside.

Then she slipped it into her pocket. “I’ll just hold on to this for safe keeping. So what is the other thing you’re getting Eddie for Christmas? Because I know this is for after the gift giving.”

“Gareth is bringing it,” Steve said with a sigh. “Eddie is like a little kid looking for presents all the time and knows all my hiding spots.”

Robin laughed, because yeah. Steve’s boyfriend was like a kid when it came with presents, something Wayne had to warn him for when his birthday came up.

“I’ve been texting him nonstop reminding him to bring it,” he continued and then he handed her his phone. “Then he sent me this.”

It was a picture of Gareth in his car, a stack of presents in the passenger seat, and he’s giving the camera the middle finger. The caption read underneath, “I’ve got it! Quit your bitching!”

“Am I supposed to guess which one is yours to Eddie?” she asked rolling her eyes as she handed it back to him.

Steve rolled his eyes and jerk his head forward, holding his hands out like it was obvious. “Like the one wrapped differently then all the others?”

“Oh.”

~

The party was in full swing. Everyone was having fun, the booze was flowing, the food flying off the table and into happy mouths.

“I can’t believe you got me the entire new edition of the D&D manuals,” Eddie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like how am I supposed to compete with that?”

Steve kissed his cheek. “It’s not a competition, love. Despite what you and Gareth think.”

“Bah!” Eddie said. Then he got shy. “You did like your present, right?”

Steve tilted his to the side. Eddie had gotten him a custom apron that said, “King of this Castle” for him to wear while he was tattooing. “Of course I did. I loved it, baby. Chrissy is already trying to convince Robin and Vickie to get her and Argyle similar ones.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of his face. “Yeah?”

Steve gently took the strand from him and tucked it behind his ear. “Yeah, sunshine. I promise.”

Robin gave him a pat on his shoulder as she passed by them.

It was time.

He took a deep breath and then grabbed his hand. “There’s one more present for you.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then his eyes went wide. “Oh!”

“Last year when I gave you my grandfather’s ring,” Steve said, cupping Eddie’s cheek, “I promised that I would get you a ring that was all your own.” He lifted his left hand. “There is only room for one more.” He tapped the ring finger.

“Stevie...” he breathed.

Suddenly he was aware that everyone was watching them as Steve got down on one knee.

“Would you do the honor of being my husband?” He pulled out the red velvet box Robin had slipped him when she passed.

Eddie held his hands mouth, too overjoyed to speak and nodded. Steve slipped the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly and perfectly fit the rest of Eddie’s rings as Steve intended.

“I love you.”

Eddie pulled him to his feet and kissed him senseless. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

A cheer went up as Steve blushed and pressed their foreheads together. “Merry Christmas, Eds.”

“Does this make me the royal consort?” Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve threw his head back and laughed. He loved this man so deeply. “Yeah, babe. You absolute drama queen!”

Everyone laughed.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[literaleyekon]

— ✿ ( 🍒 ) for a spontaneous hangout in hawaii, megan drags you on a surprise adventure you can’t say no to.

pairing. megan skiendiel x reader | genre. fluff | wc. 0.5k | notes. this was so fun to write!! 💌 [MASTERLIST COMING SOON]

now playing sour patch kids · by bryce vine

✦ ✧ ✦

“I just wanna play around livin' like a child With old tunes jammin' on my Walkman And some Sour Patch Kids and a Coke can I don't wanna think about anythin' at all I just wanna run around doin' what I want”

The sun was already golden when Megan took your hand, pulling you down the stone path toward the beach. “You’re too slow!” she teased, her voice light, warmed by the rhythm of her home.

Her orange hair caught the sea breeze, curling wildly in a way that made her look like she belonged here—did belong here, perfectly Hawaiian.

“You said we were exploring, not running a marathon!” you shot back with a playful glare.

Megan only laughed. “Trust me, trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

You and Megan wandered into a small market tucked between two palm-lined streets.

Brightly colored stands lined the path, vendors calling out greetings as seashell necklaces and woven bracelets swayed in the breeze. It smelled like salty air, sunscreen, and something sweet you couldn’t quite place.

Megan grabbed your wrist. “Okay, this way—trust me.”

“You always say that right before we do something ridiculous,” you teased, letting her pull you toward a stand shimmering with color.

Laid out on the table were stencils, tiny jars of glitter—gold, blue, pink, purple—and rows of brushes. A woman in a wide sun hat looked up and smiled warmly. “Aloha! Glitter tattoos? Best souvenirs around.”

Megan looked over her shoulder at you with the most self-satisfied grin. “See? Cool stuff.”

Your eyes lit up as you scanned the jars of glitter. “Okay, fine, you win. This is pretty cool.”

“I always win,” Megan shot back, giving you a playful nudge. “Now, pick your colors. No pressure, but I’m judging your taste.”

You pretended to think hard, tapping your chin dramatically. “Pink and gold—like sunshine.”

Megan’s teasing expression faltered just a little. “Oh… that’s actually kinda perfect for you. You’re like a little sunbeam.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you quickly covered it with a retort. “And you’re like… storm clouds.”

“Excuse me?” She gasped, eyes wide with fake offense.

“Blue and purple, Megan. It’s very moody.”

She burst out laughing, the sound bright and free. “Okay, rude but accurate. I’m stealing that. Storm cloud chic.”

As the vendor got to work on your tattoo first, Megan leaned on the table, watching with exaggerated interest. “Better make hers perfect,” she joked to the vendor, loud enough for you to hear. “She’ll cry if it’s crooked.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

When it was Megan’s turn, you stood to the side, arms crossed, pretending to judge her. “I’m gonna laugh so hard if yours comes out looking like a weird potato flower.”

“It won’t,” she said confidently, not even glancing at you. “Because I’m naturally perfect. Like, it’s kind of exhausting being this cool.”

You snorted. “Must be so hard for you.”

“It is,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

The vendor finished her tattoo, and Megan turned her arm to show you—a stunning hibiscus in bold blue and purple, glitter catching every ray of sunlight. You hated to admit it, but it looked really good.

“Okay, wow,” you said reluctantly. “That’s… actually cool.”

“Right?” Megan grinned and held her arm next to yours, where pink and gold glitter bloomed across your skin. “Matching tattoos. Are we adorable or are we adorable?”

You squinted at her. “You’re something.”

She laughed, bumping her arm against yours. “Take a picture with me. We’ve gotta immortalize this moment.”

You groaned dramatically but stepped closer as Megan held up her phone. “Fine, but if you post this, I want royalties.”

“Yeah, yeah, diva,” she muttered, snapping a shot of your glittering arms. “You’ll thank me when we go viral. #GlitterGoals.”

“Stop,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “You sound like one of those influencers that still have the unicorn phone case and use #bekind in their bio.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’ll tag you as ‘random storm cloud companion.’”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” she replied, grinning wide as she pocketed her phone. She tilted her head toward the next street. “Come on, sunshine. Shaved ice is calling our names.”

You followed her, still admiring the shimmer on your skin. For all her teasing and dramatics, Megan made it hard not to smile—and in this sunlit corner of Hawaii, everything felt perfect

[matchalovertrait]

24 screenshots of 2024! ✮⋆˙

Thank you for the tag @itmeansiris, @cakepoppresent, @euphiesims, @rosienthe, @simscici, @smulie, @living-undead, and @elderwisp!! 💗

January

Infant Dulce!!!! Aw how precious 😭 I love her little pigtails and look in her eyes. She looks a lot like her dad here lol.

One of Generation One's requirements in the Joy of Life Challenge is to "Throw the best parties for your child(ren), full of yummy cakes and treats!" and this was the very first of many cute parties :) Ángel's 5th birthday. I was still very new to the Sims 4 and I felt pretty proud of myself.

February

MY FOUR BABIES 😭😭😭😭 I love them with all my heart.

This took soooooo much work as a beginner omg!! I thought it was just okay but it got a lot of love :o

Ángel, Esperanza, Dulce, Guillermo, and Matthew as kids! I had no clue what the future held for them lol. Look at all of them appearing so cute and innocent 😆

March

An ofrenda for in-game Día de Los Muertos. It turned out pretty decent. That's a picture of Noemí's mom, Ynez.

Again, I don't know what possessed me to do a Diced Junior arc 😂 Besides the lighting and ugly text, I'm really proud of it. So no, I will never stop mentioning it.

April

A lil too much text 😅 but I liked showing the personalities of Dulce's cousins more here. Fun fact: It may not seem like it but Guillermo has the genius trait. A handful of his lines in this legacy insinuates that lol.

This was right after Dulce posted the Alto exposé video. I like how I showed a few different opinions from the comment section of her video. Also, it's a little ironic that she would meet a somewhat familiar fate due to Caruso's video about her 😅 hehehe.

May

My free-spirited Dulce 💓 maybe one of her future kids can become a basketball star, hmm.

Ynez and Infant Noemí <3 Translation: It’s just the two of us, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in A LOT of effort to give you a good life. Hopefully, you grow up to be a person who is very kind, strong, and noble. And she did grow up to be like that :)

June

I'm not religious but Noemí practices catholicism. That's the main religion in Mexico, where she is from! Ngl I think I have religious trauma, but I can recognize when people have good intentions when they pray over you. I kinda like it, shows they care. ...Not in the Southern way when people say "Bless your heart" when they don't mean it like that. Context matters 😂

Bruh, Dulce 💀 Also, I will admit that Caruso looks kind of cute here 😂 I see why some of you fell for him. But that was part of my elaborate plan 😈

July

Okay, the first Lizaxi Legacy post went pretty hard. I'm pleasantly surprised about that LOL! We have some good lines, interesting characters, and decent shots!

Part of Mimli and Smeagie's house :> you'll find cacti, aliens, and stars throughout the home.

August

I LOVE the post that this came from 😂 This save was a lot of fun, I need to revisit it.

My Pierrot clown!!!! One of my favorite posts of this year!! I'm so proud of it :> Her outfit, her makeup, the long sorta-side bangs, the balloons, the fog, her facial expression. Love it.

September

Uh oh, Erick met Caruso and he was NOT having it 😅 Erick is such a kind guy too.

The big move to Del Sol Valley!!! Remember when we thought she was moving to Scotland? 🤔 Anyway, Dulce looks so pretty here! I love the palm trees in the back.

October

I reallllyyyyyyyy like the colors of Dulce's office and how I decorated it :>

Dulce's disguise 😂 man I love turning the ideas in my head into reality. Even if it's all pixels.

LMAO this is so funny and unserious to me 😭😭 Why is bro showing off his body, tattoos, AND jawline in the office??? We're supposed to be having a serious convo here, hellllppppp

November

Okay, this is pretty cool. Now that I look at it, that definitely looks like a supervillain house. I also like the fonts that I used and how you can see that the party is about to begin.

Dulce showing off her knowledge from secret agent movies! She's so silly hehe