#I’m sure Age isn’t happy about this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 9 months ago

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❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞

✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing

✧ wc: 7,657

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!

“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara).

“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“

But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue.

You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?”

He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing.

You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder.

Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were.

He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit.

“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle.

“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning.

“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“

“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,”

And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“

“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,”

And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer.

And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,”

…maybe he spoke too soon.

~~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat,

“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“

You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing).

You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—”

“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,”

And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt.

His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea.

He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through.

Why did this feel so much worse?”

~~~

“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara.

Or rather he should have.

He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—

You got it from here.

The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—

The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.

“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,”

You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit.

And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now.

Until they take his body away.

A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“

“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are.

The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“

“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,”

And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret.

And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did.

You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”

“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger.

What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses.

“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—”

“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—”

“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—”

“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ”

“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own.

“No—” and your hand finds his chest.

“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair.

And you didn’t — he was the one who left you.

~~~~

You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms.

You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.

But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out.

Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep.

Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns.

“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“

He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,”

“You didn’t—“

“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”

“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?”

He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,”

“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“

“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Then why?”

And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek.

And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still.

“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,”

And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips.

~~~

“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one).

You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them.

Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—”

“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—”

“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries, had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—”

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound.

You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”

He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo).

“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him.

“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?”

And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head.

“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,”

And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—

But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do.

Just as you would never ask him to stay for you.

“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,”

“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“

He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft, “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“

“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—

But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in.

“Kento—“

“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?”

And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?”

But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,”

And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,”

You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach.

And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to.

So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix.

He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it.

“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,”

How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…

And now, here was the other.

He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—”

“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,”

“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,”

You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”

A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”

And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,”

“But—”

“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?”

Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”

And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?”

The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,”

You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,”

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.

“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.”

~~~

“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on

“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful.

“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“

“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—”

And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you.

“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—”

“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,”

And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal.

But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off.

“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,”

Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices.

“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another —

his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“

But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick.

Another

“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,”

“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter.

His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter.

“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you.

Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release.

And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum.

“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust.

“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“

He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest.

You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—

Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips.

And he knew that he was certainly made for you.

“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?”

And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside.

You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again.

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips.

“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.”

~~~

It was over.

That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s.

He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them.

The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you.

And a beach in Malaysia.

“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing.

And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of.

“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”

Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse.

Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.

And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—

“Itadori,” Mahito says.

“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel.

But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop?

Could he finally stop?

No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.

But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.

But he couldn’t regret it now.

“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“

And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him.

It was you.

You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name.

“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“

“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“

“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“

“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black.

It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after.

Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house.

“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks.

You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?”

His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“

You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“

“But—“

“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head.

“It’s not—“

“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle.

“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“

“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,”

“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?”

His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.”

~~~

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“

“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck.

“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?”

“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,”

“It’s really not that bad—”

“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by.

“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder.

“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,”

And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him—

Always.

✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3

✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo

#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami x you #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader

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rafelandia · 1 month ago

Text

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.

Good. She was sleeping.

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.”

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.”

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands.

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did.

With two babies.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad rafe #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe x fem!reader #rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey x reader

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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago

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Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, reader's second gender is omega, so there are mentions of pregnancy, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ prequel to this

♡ GN reader

His eyes are garnet and slim—you can’t make up your mind if they’re judgemental or just assessing. Either would be allowed, of course. The point of the date is for him to decide if you’re sufficient or not.

And yet, you’re the one taking him in. His main is ashen blonde, boyishly spikey and wild—not fine-kempt and slick like you’d pictured. He didn’t have any grey hair either, or stubble, or wrinkles. Though he’s still much bigger and burlier than they are, he can’t be any older than the eldest males back at the institution.

He’s obviously an Alpha, and still, it’s so odd.

“You’re young,” you end up saying.

His nose scrunches. “No younger than you.”

It must have sounded accusatory, even when you only meant to point it out for yourself. You probably ought to have said it silently, inside yourself, and not out loud like you did.

And so you apologize, “I’m sorry, I was—I was just expecting someone older…” You try smiling, but the thought of him actually having been older makes your throat tight, and you swallow thickly instead. “Much older.”

He sighs, looks off to the side instead of at you. His brows tighten—you probably want someone who’s already got a house and a car and a boat on a lake, not to mention a good salary and not the intern pay he’ll be living off of for at least the next year or so. His foot taps beneath the table. You feel it in the floorboards. “You disappointed or somethin’?” he grumbles through grit teeth and a slim frown.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, blruting, “No!” You even jump out of your chair, both hands slamming flat on the table, making the napkin-wrapped cutlery clatter within their confines.

Quickly, but too late, you realize you’re causing a scene. Cheeks burning, you look around before settling down again—you’re not making a very good first impression so far.

You take a breath, confessing, “I mean, I’m happy,” You place your hands in your lap and then start fiddling with them. “This way, we can be together for a long time…” Your voice is breathy as you let out a somewhat apologetic sigh, smiling some. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t dare look up to gauge his expression.

You end up laughing nervously in the silence, feeling the joke arise before you're able to dispel it. “I was afraid I was gonna have to be your nurse soon.”

His foot stops tapping. Then he scoffs.

You perk up again, fumbling over your newest mistake, already apologizing a second time so far, “I’m sorry, that was rude. You’re just not what I was expecting—I’m a little caught off guard, is all.”

He huffs, then grins. “That’s okay. You don’t gotta apologize.”

You both sit in silence after that. You pick your nails more. All the questions you’ve prepared are useless given his age—he doesn’t have an answer to how many kids he wants from you. Probably. It somehow feels strange asking him when he isn’t in his thirties or forties or early fifties.

You look at him in askance. It really is odd.

“You can ask—if you’re curious,” he sanctions.

You really want to, but you’ve made enough mistakes already. Your teachers wouldn’t be proud if they witnessed you acting so childish and not as the proper little lady they’ve trained you to be.

“No, I shouldn’t.” You shake your head and look down at your lap.

“Come on, you don’t gotta worry about being rude with me,” he insists.

You bite your lip, feeling fidgety in your chair, peering up at him. “You sure?”

“Hit me.”

The question leaps from your tongue before you have the mind to regret it. “How can you afford this?”

He leans back in his chair. “I can’t—not yet. My folks are paying.”

You hum—that makes more sense. “They must be nice,” you say.

“They try,” he agrees.

There’s a silence again. You don’t have anything appropriate to ask. You were more prepared to talk when spoken to, to answer his questions about your health and hobbies, all silly things that make you cute and likable, but given he’s your age, none of it seems any interesting. It seems he doesn’t have much to ask, either.

“I was unsure about this,” he declares after a while. “To be honest with you, it was all my mom’s idea. I didn’t ask for it…” With a pause, he picks up the menu that had been lying undisturbed in wait for his decision. “But, she tends to be right about most things. So, I think I’ll take the offer this once.”

He lets you decide without ordering for you. Neither of you decide to drink, even though you’re both old enough. The conversation is awkward, but you giggle a couple of times and he smirks in turn. You hadn’t anticipated it—this feeling. You’d anticipated the nerves and the tension—but not this other thing, this sweet fluttering feeling blossoming in your belly, flirty and fizzy. Is this what they call butterflies?

He’s left asking himself the same question.

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

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sunshinechay · 1 year ago

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Okay I finally had time today to finish watching your video and my god thank you!!!

You perfectly explained all of the reasons I dropped Only Friends half way through and only watched the specific scenes lots of the fandom talked about after that. The fandom had way more to do with why I dropped it than anything the show ever did and it only got worse the longer the show went on.

Like you explained in the video, I also had figured out towards the beginning of the show that it likely wasn’t going to be as messy as we all wanted it to be (myself included) but I still settled for a good ride and for Jojo and Den and Ninew to tell as true a story as they could (and I think they succeed) but watching the fandom take a tail spin into anger made me want to watch it less and less, to the point where I tried to stay off tumblr as much as I could the day the finale aired because I KNEW the reactions were going to be bad. Now watching some people go after Jojo like they go after Mame has just made me never want to interact with some people ever again. It’s frustrating and I love so many people in this fandom so I mostly tried to stay quiet about my dislike of it.

P.S. The stuff about TopMew and ForceBook. Couldn’t agree more. I like TopMew more than most I think (because I love the bickering married couple trope I’m not sorry) but the fact that there were times (from what I watched and other specific scenes from the episodes I didn’t) that I genuinely wondered why they were together and why they shouldn’t break up and the awkward chemistry is a testiment to ForceBook and abilities and yet people just went after them and the people who liked them and just made me go “big yikes” and also “please don’t do that” (also would like to echo that MJ please don’t delete your account I love you so much)

P.P.S. thank you for the stuff about pathologizing characters and especially about whether or not actions should be considered abusive or not. While you were speaking specifically to OFMD (which I have not seen) as well as your own experiences, it also spoke to me with regards to the way some of the fandom has treated Ray in OFTS. Week after week I would have sit and try to calm myself down after the show aired because of it. Because no he does not react well when things don’t go his way and yes he will resort to insulting/mistreating people he does genuinely care about when he is upset and he will absolutely say things he does not mean and will later regret but he does it anyway because he has no better way of expressing himself. While I do not think he has ADHD and the often resulting RSD, he definitely has trauma (likely stemming from parental neglect) that makes him react the way someone with ADHD (and RSD) would. In my most bitter moments, I sat here and just went “tell me you’ve never suffered from low self worth/self esteem, depression and suicidal ideation or never suffered parental neglect of any kind without telling me you’ve never suffered those things” because it felt like so many people were invalidating my own lived experiences and calling me abusive for also having done some of those things. (Because ADHD/RSD and depression/anxiety/passive suicidal ideation are a bitch of a combination I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy). Ray’s lived experiences with his mental health and parental situation (at least in terms of parental neglect) are pretty similar to my own (barring addiction) and watching other people simplify it and call him abusive towards others (especially Sand) to justify why they don’t like him or why they think another character has the moral high ground above him (which they do not, that’s the whole fucking point of the show) felt a lot like people telling me that they have the moral high ground on me and I’m a terrible person for having suffered those things and having reacted in similar ways to him. Ray might not be a perfect character and he does treat a lot those around him like crap because of his issues, which is not okay, but the fact that he gets help towards the end and hopefully starts becoming a better version of himself makes me feel hope for my own continued work on myself but seeing so many people just continue to shit on him makes me even more scared to interact with people in the fandom then I already was because what if they realize I can be like that too and thus decide they don’t want to know me at all?

youtube

made a video dissecting Clexa, Izzy's death, the messy ending of Only Friends, and Gaylors. please pray for me 🙏

#anyway i’m going to stop there because this rant is too long #sorry about that #but yeah #ray isn’t perfect but damn do i feel seen by him #getting way too personal here but yeah #so much of how i interact with people is informed by my belief that i am worth nothing #even though i know intellectually that that is wrong and i am worth something #the most extreme of the reactions in here throw me back to that place i was at when i was ray’s age #so yeah #that’s why i dropped only friends #i tried to keep interacting for a while #reading meta and reblogging gifsets and stuff #but eventually it became too hard to do that #have kind of started again now that it’s over #just being happy that ray got to be happy at the end #and hopefully improving himself #because it gives me hope for myself #ray is not a good™️ or special™️ but he does make me feel seen in a way #anyway idk how to end all of that #sorry again for the long ramble #i think i just needed to get it out #feel free to tell me to delete it if you need me too #i’m not sure exactly what my point is even supposed to be #hahaha #all that being said #very good video #everyone go watch the full video #please

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planetaryupscaled · 6 months ago

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Birthday Present

Male OC x Wonyoung

Tags: 11k, creampie, dub con, tw

The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

This wasn’t what Wonyoung had planned — she didn’t expect the ‘casual’ party to blow out of proportion like this!

Loud music was blaring throughout the entire house, and a countless stream of teenagers was littering every inch of the building. She wasn’t even able to return to the living room without having to squeeze through multiple groups, by the stairs and in the hallway. Sure, it was her boyfriend’s home, but she knew that most of the clean-up would become her duty.

“Hey!” Wonyoung attempted to gain some attention of those around her. ‘Guys, could you,’ she continued timidly before even she realized that her words were completely drowned out by the music.

“Could you just… could anyone turn down the music a little? Please…”

It was no use. She was forced to keep on trying to reach the living room and to lower the volume herself.

Truth be told, this was a mess of her own making.

It had been her job to make it a special event. Her boyfriend had asked her to help with the preparations for his little brother’s birthday party. But even he probably didn’t anticipate that Wonyoung would manage to gather a crowd of this size, certainly not on short notice.

Wonyoung loved helping people, always did. She was part of the school committee, she was the representative for her class members, and she was the head cheerleader. It wasn’t that she sought out those positions, they simply ended up in her lap. Helping others brought a smile to her face, and in turn, people happily relied on her. Her generosity was widely known and accepted.

So there was no question about it. When her boyfriend asked her to help out with the preparations, she did.

It took a couple of phone calls, but her friends were happy to party! But then those friends invited more friends, and then the circle just kept on growing. She hadn’t intended for the small birthday celebration to explode into a full-blown party. She didn’t even recognize most of the faces that were present! Hell, plenty of the unfamiliar guys looked old enough to be advanced college students. Which was weird, most of her friends had just finished high school or recently entered college. There was an unexpected wide range of ages present.

“Hyeon!” She finally spotted her boyfriend near the speakers, and gestured for him to turn the music down just a little. It took him a moment to figure out her signals, but then he obliged. It was finally possible to have a normal conversation.

“Thank you so, so much!” It was a blessing to finally be able to hear herself again. She pushed her way past a few more unfamiliar faces and then gave him a hug — mostly to reassure herself. His tall, muscular frame was like a beacon of safety and comfort in this mess.

“What’s up? You doing all right?” Hyeon looked down at her and brushed a few stray strands of her dark hair from her face. They were a cute couple, and an exotic one at that. He was a just your average high school jock with skin as pale as a bottle of milk. While she was not just your typical average high school cheerleader, to the contrary. Wonyoung extremely pretty. Her pale caramel skin, as well as her dark brown eyes, made her quite the treat.

“Yeah, it’s just… how is your brother holding up? I know he’s pretty shy so maybe this isn’t… you know, optimal? I may have overdone it a little with the party? I think.” Wonyoung reflected on her words and felt a pinch of guilt. It was meant to be a perfect event, but instead she perceived it to be chaotic. Her inner perfectionist was ringing the alarm bells.

“This is totally on me…” Wonyoung sulked and briefly lowered her gaze. Hyeon however, gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“You did great, babe. I’m sure he’s having a good… time…?” Hyeon cut off his sentence after he spotted his little brother nearby. He was walking down the stairway with a camcorder in hand, with no sign of shyness.

“Is that Hajoon?” He went for a quick double- take. They both turn to observe his little brother, who was in the process of celebrating his birthday by holding up his old camcorder and recording the multitude of drunken, scantily dressed high school and college girls. It was going to be a memory he wouldn’t erase anytime soon.

“That does remind me,” Hyeon added as he redirected his attention back to Wonyoung. “He’s been struggling to, uh… to get laid… do you think you could hook him up with one of your friends?” He paused as he realized how silly his own words were, but it wouldn’t be the weirdest favor he had asked for.

“It would be one hell of a gift,” he continued. ‘I would owe you big time. He would finally stop mentioning how he wants to have his first time.’ He briefly paused and scratched the back of his head. “You can imagine how awkward it is, when your little brother tells you about wanting to get laid. I’m not even sure if he’s picky anymore, he just wants to hump a girl.”

Wonyoung grimaced slightly — truth be told, she had already tried in the past to get Hajoon into a relationship! Everybody deserves to be happy. So when she learned of Hajoon’s bad history with the ladies, she tried to get him to date one of her friends.

But he was simply too reclusive and way too much into his computer and board games. Unlike his older brother, he also wasn’t in good shape physically. He was quite chubby and made no effort to improve that situation. If only there was some way to help him. She sighed.

“I don’t know. I guess I can give it another try, sure! Let me find some liquid courage first, though.” There was no need to stay sober throughout the party, she figured. People were having a good time, so why shouldn’t she try to do the same? Who knows what the day may have in store for her.

Hajoon however, was pretty much in heaven. It didn’t take much for someone of his age to be entertained. He had never seen this many drunk girls in one place.

“Guys, are you seeing this? Jack. Pot.” He swayed the camcorder around and got a few more good shots of the surrounding girls — fortunately none of them recognized him or knew who the party was for. “Guys!” He briefly turned to ensure his two buddies were still following close behind.

“Come on, let’s keep looking!” Hajoon didn’t have many friends, partly because very few people shared his obsessions for indoor activities. But Jin and Sehun always had his back. Whether it was computer gaming, board games, anything. They kept each other company.

“What’s going on over he—ohh…” Hajoon’s voice trailed off as he pushed past another couple of teens and had a look into the kitchen. Lined up along the entire length of the kitchen counter were bottles of whiskey, vodka and other beverages. Right next to those were like a dozen plastic cups full of freshly mixed drinks, with a few empty cups scattered across the floor.

This really felt like a wild college party.

What really caught the boy’s attention however, was a young couple near the corner of the kitchen. The boy looked old enough to be a college graduate, while the girl looked freshly out of high school. What drew all attention, was where the guy’s hand was planted — deep inside her pants! His digits were moving erratically and he was quite obviously finger-fucking her.

Oddly enough it didn’t coax much of a reaction out of the girl. She had her gaze averted to the ground with a glassy-eyed stare. Were all girls like this? Hajoon murmured.

“He’s totally going at it! I’ve never seen that in real life!” Hajoon feverishly tried to zoom in with his camcorder, but failed to record anything significant before a few more guys approached from behind and firmly pushed him right out of the kitchen. It was written all across his face that he wasn’t old enough to be anywhere near alcohol. Old enough to drive a car or own a gun maybe, but not old enough to drink booze.

In the meantime, Wonyoung had a few of those drinks herself, back in the living room. Aside from an unusually salty taste, they didn’t raise any suspicion. Maybe a bit strong on the alcohol content, but decent.

However, it took her only a few minutes before she began to feel funny. More than just drunk, she felt sluggish but without feeling tired. She also felt weirdly out of breath.

Hyeon noticed rather quickly that she was behaving very unusual. She was a lightweight, but the drinks shouldn’t do more than making her feel tipsy and giddy. They certainly shouldn’t make her so… docile? She looked stoned rather than drunk.

“Wonyoung, are you all right?” He could tell that something wasn’t right.

As soon as he said that, the wheels in his head began to turn and he had another look around. In the midst of all the music and commotion, nobody had even noticed that some girls were passed out on the couch, and a random guy was sleeping on the carpet.

It made him furious to realize that someone pulled an unacceptable prank. Someone had slipped drugs into the drinks. Maybe just sleeping pills, maybe a roofie. It didn’t make a difference.

“Ah, what the hell,” he muttered under his breath before shutting down the speaker system and raising his voice to draw the attention of his guests.

“Party is over! Some asshole spiked the drinks, everyone out!” He then repeated himself once more while untangling a kissing couple that hadn’t paid attention.

The commotion had been enough to draw Hajoon’s attention as well, who quickly approached his older sibling to offer his help.

“Just in time, here.” Hyeon pushed Wonyoung into his brother’s arms while his eyes were already going back to scanning the area. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the girls who had multiple of the altered drinks and were straight up passed out. Thankfully Wonyoung was still able to stand on her own, though she was not quite grasping what was happening.

“Get her upstairs,” Hyeon instructed while giving his brother a reassuring pat on the back. “I’ll take care of the party so just get her upstairs.”

Hajoon hesitated and looked back at him with a surprised expression. Like a deer stuck in headlights. He had no idea that the drinks had been spiked so this was a confusing moment.

“Upstairs, to one of the bedrooms, what are you waiting for? I got my hands full here,” he instructed before he once more surveyed the situation. A couple guys stared at the drugged girls, so he started there and ushered the creeps out of the house. He certainly didn’t want to be the person who allowed girls to be roofied and taken advantage of at his own home.

It had all been so hectic that he didn’t even pay attention to his younger brother anymore.

Wonyoung still felt a little weird, less energetic than before. She kept an arm around Hajoon while he led her upstairs. Her surroundings didn’t even register to her until she heard the door closing behind herself, at which point she turned to see Hajoon staring right back at her.

There had been a colossal misunderstanding. As far as Hajoon knew, his older brother had just set him up with his girlfriend. A favor for sure, but an incredibly weird one. In his eyes, it certainly made sense now why they both acted so fishy. He took another moment to contemplate the situation, and then he set his camcorder aside to approach her.

“So uh,” he began to say. “He really wants me to… with you? Is that like, some kind of birthday gift?” Wonyoung gazed back at him with vacant eyes. It wasn’t that the situation was overwhelming her, she simply couldn’t motivate herself to think about it or the implication of his words.

Her thoughts were more occupied by a warm tingle in her crotch. A very special part of her was itching for attention and the moral implications didn’t cross her thoughts.

“I guess.” The response was half-hearted and she lazily lay down on his bed. It was a small bed, designed for just one person and with messy bed covers. This clearly wasn’t the bedroom of someone who ever had a girlfriend before.

She got comfortable nonetheless and buried her face in the pillow. For a brief moment, things were quiet and peaceful…

It didn’t remain like that for long. A pair of hands reached around to unbutton her jeans, and she instinctively groaned her lazy disapproval.

“What… what are you doing back there?” Wonyoung twisted herself around and onto her back to see those same fingers grasping the waistband of her pants and gradually pulling them down. Before she had a chance to object properly, her jeans were already halfway down to her ankles and revealed what she wore underneath.

Her panties were an innocent pair of pink, frilled cotton undies.

Hajoon scarcely believed his own eyes, up to then he had assumed she was some kind of secret seductress. That she and his brother had some kinky relationship which they had been keeping hidden. That of course, she would be wearing something lewd like a thong. But no, apparently, she was truly conservative and… prudish?

The old, washed-out fabric clung snugly to the shape of her vulva. Despite her unsexy taste in underwear, she obviously possessed a pussy — which was all that currently mattered to Hajoon. But if she felt conscious about her panties…

“I don’t mind, I guess they’re cute,” he mumbled while he gave her pants another tug and pulled them off completely to focus entirely on her underwear. Wonyoung was still barely reacting to his actions. She was quietly observing him. Whatever had been mixed into the drinks was keeping her sedated far beyond her control. It also didn’t help that she was feeling weirdly excited and aroused — another effect of the cocktail.

As far as Hajoon was concerned, she was simply shy about this arrangement. So when he touched her panties, grasped the soft fabric, and began to peel the material off her smooth silky skin, all he could think about was losing his virginity with her help.

It was a gradual process, he didn’t want to rush this considering how relaxed she seemed to be. Maybe she wanted this to be romantic, who knows. After all the struggle, finally, Wonyoung's perfectly smooth-shaven pussy was revealed. This discovery only made her more appealing.

But even under the effect of alcohol and whatever else had been mixed into the drinks, Wonyoung gradually felt her heart beating faster. Adrenaline began to pump through her at an alarming rate. Her mind began to grasp that she was about to have sexual intercourse with someone other than her boyfriend.

“Uhmm.” She paused for a moment. It was so damned difficult to gather her thoughts and think straight. How did she end up in this situation?

Wonyoung eyes wandered up and down the view in front of her. The way Hajoon was removing her underwear. How his gaze kept fixating on her crotch. Something about this was alerting her. But just as her emotions began to take shape in more coherent thoughts, she felt another dulling wave of drowsiness washing over her.

Wonyoung leaned back, and took a deep breath. Her head rested on the cushy pillow. She watched her boyfriend’s brother tossing her underwear away before standing back up to undress. She could vaguely recall the prior chat. About hooking him up with someone. Maybe… she had volunteered? Perhaps she had agreed to help him out in a more direct way.

In her drugged state, it made just enough sense.

Her gaze was glued to him and his actions, she had never been with anyone but her boyfriend so this was new. Hajoon was without a doubt on the chubby side. And as he took off his pants, she also noted that he wasn’t particularly well endowed.

But he definitely was excited and steadily growing. Wonyoung however, was still at the mere beginnings of feeling aroused, she knew that having sex in her current state would be unpleasant. So she reluctantly reached under her shirt, pushed her bra out of the way and began to caress her breasts. Some part of her knew that this would be the only foreplay she would get. As long as she could get herself wet enough to make his entry easy, she knew that her body would take care of the rest.

Simultaneously, Hajoon held his semi-erect appendage in his fist and stroked it to life while watching her. He glanced back and forth between the motion underneath her shirt, and the triangle between her legs. The awkward teenagers continued like that for longer than either of them would care to admit.

Wonyoung eventually reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and away, discarding her last piece of clothing. Her perky breasts were crowned by stiff nipples, hinting at her own growing excitement.

Her moral barrier was all but torn down, she was no longer conscious of the fact that she was about to cheat on her boyfriend. Unlike all the girls downstairs, she didn’t have anyone to keep her safe and to prevent her from committing a mistake.

Hajoon joined her side, and the bed creaked bitterly in response. The rusty bedsprings weren’t made to endure the weight of two people. He climbed on top of Wonyoung while supporting himself on his elbows, and his erection poked her belly button. He wasn’t even close to his target destination.

It coaxed a timid giggle out of her.

“Wait, I got this,” he uttered nervously. Hajoon then readjusted his angle and reached down to grasp the veiny, firm surface of his dick. It felt harder than ever before, and throbbed in tune to his nervous heartbeat. He knew that he wouldn’t last long once he was inside her, but that didn’t matter.

The bloated crown of his appendage gradually slid down towards her crotch, accompanied by a very fine trail of pre-cum which clung to her pale caramel skin. It didn’t help that he was particularly aware of some fruity adolescent perfume that surrounded her and made her even more intoxicating to be with. Everything about Wonyoung was feminine and attractive. All of this had been developing so fast that he barely had the time to fully process it. But he wasn’t about to pause.

His cock nestled in the midst of her pussy lips and he could feel his tip pressing against her skin. He gave it an inquisitive jerk forward, but merely lured a displeased groan out of her.

Wonyoung felt him awkwardly applying pressure to her clit with that bloated head of his cock. Hajoon was still a couple inches away from his target.

“It’s lower than that…” she mumbled.

Wonyoung waited another moment while he fidgeted with her genitals, before she reached down and wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft. The first thing she noticed was how warm his cock felt! After her initial surprise faded, she guided his purple cockhead down to the slit of her pussy and towards the snug embrace of her labia. She directed his dick up and down until it was decently held in place by her own body, until it was wedged in place just in front of the tiny opening that would lead inside her.

The bed squeaked as Hajoon suddenly lunged forward and buried his length inside Wonyoung pussy with a single push, just like he had seen in porn. His inexperience was painfully obvious and Wonyoung suffered the consequences of being his first.

Wonyoung inhaled sharply and tensed up. Despite being wet enough for his entry, she hadn’t been prepared to take in everything at once! Her boyfriend had never pushed into her like a savage, it had always been a slow and gradual process to open her up.

“This is amazing,” he spoke breathlessly, his voice heavy and sultry. Simultaneously he was still wriggling his hips forward, and fully ignored the way his pubic bone was already grinding against hers.

Wonyoung hadn’t even noticed the way she had instinctively wrapped her legs around him — it felt like someone had shoved a scalding metal rod into her privates and was still trying to push it deeper.

“I think… it’s all inside.” Wonyoung response was a mixture of half-hearted wit and dumbfound frustration. She knew well enough that she would be sore for the following few days after such a callous entry. Her vagina wasn’t built for such rough treatment. The silken walls were involuntarily clenching down on his member but unsuccessful in expelling the invader. She could feel herself stretching to accommodate his manhood, adapting to make room for him, allowing him to become a part of her.

Just like he had seen on the internet, he began his slow withdrawal followed by another push back inside her. He copied the motions to the best of his abilities.

A slippery squelch escaped Wonyoung womanhood, and a faint blush crept across her cheeks. It was either her own arousal, or an ample serving of pre-cum which helped to lubricate her pussy. Either way, it paved the path for him to pick up a clumsy pace of burying his entire length in her, pulling out, and repeating the process.

Throughout it all, Wonyoung remained fully aware of the heat his cock was emitting within her tight sheathe. Each time Hajoon buried his cock inside her, she could feel it like fireworks going off against her delicate flesh. The heat, the texture of his erection, the veiny shape, she felt it all as he repeatedly drove it home.

Every other slap was more deliberate than the last, and soon the sounds of his skin slapping against hers echoed throughout the small room each time his crotch impacted with Wonyoung’s. Her small breasts rocked back and forth in tune to the rhythmical motion of her body, the petite girl was like a doll while under the mercy of his actions. This wasn’t the romantic love-making that she was used to, it was an act with a singular goal in mind.

With little else to do but to bear the sensations, she grasped the bed sheets more tightly and dug her fingers into the fabric.

She also unwrapped her legs from around his back and placed her feet back on the mattress — this was an encounter she did not intend to repeat. She wanted him to do whatever he desired and to get it over with quickly.

And yet despite her mental struggle, Wonyoung found herself feeling playful, almost giddy. A part of her was enjoying the knowledge that her body brought him such joy. She also felt desired and appreciated beyond anything she felt in the past. Perhaps with a bit more foreplay, she thought, this might have felt amazing, even for her.

“Do you… do you like it?” Wonyoung asked, those words bashfully while her innocent eyes gazed back up at him as if seeking his approval. As she lowered her view back down to her crotch, she could see as well as feel the way he kept pulling his hungry cock nearly all the way out of her — leaving her with a sensation of emptiness inside her — and then slamming back into her. Each impact coaxed another stifled sigh out of her, it was all she could do to prevent herself from moaning.

She still believed that her friends were hosting a party downstairs. She didn’t want to create any noise.

“Fuck,” Hajoon cursed, as he felt the tightness of Wonyoung’s cunt squeezing down on his cock. “Yea-yeah,” was all he could muster in response as he kept on focusing entirely on that wet hug of her pussy. Wonyoung kept tensing up, he could tell. Voluntarily or not, it felt incredible to have her flesh so tight around his shaft. Every clench of her flesh just heightened his pleasure, driving him on to make this last for as long as he could.

It was his first time, however.

Wet perspiration was collecting on his back, his muscles were aching and shivering from exhaustion, and all he could think about was that paradise between Wonyoung’s legs. His basic instincts were urging him on to claim her completely in whatever way possible.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, he could feel himself approaching his peak. An explosion of pleasure that concentrated in his loins. He shoved his entire weight against and into her. He deliberately wanted to share this moment with her, all of it, forcing it on her.

So when a familiar tingle was spreading from his crotch all the way to the tip of his erection, he made sure to keep it buried as deep in her little twat as she could take it. Wonyoung’s vulva kissed the base of his cock. She had taken every inch. They were one.

His orgasm began with a single pulse at first.

It was also right then, that Wonyoung fully comprehended what felt so different this time, compared to sex she usually had with her boyfriend. Today she was acutely aware of the shape and heat of her partner’s erection because it was not engulfed by a thick layer of latex, she realized. There was no condom!

For the first time in her life, she was committing to unprotected intercourse. And to make matters worse, it was with someone other than her boyfriend. Those pink walls of her pussy had been in direct contact with a naked, uncovered cock. It was the first time that she had sex completely bareback and as nature intended.

Squirt.

Wonyoung inhaled sharply at that, like something had just touched the very end of her love-tunnel. A sickeningly strong spurt of… wetness. That thought didn’t prepare her for the following squirts, which felt twice as intense — her mind made the connection with a super soaker as it was emptying a blast inside her! It felt strong and masculine as it washed into her.

It was weird, but not nearly as bad as the discomfort it caused. Those pumps delivered the payload of cloudy sperm right up against her cervix, coating the smooth organ with a fine slathering of creamy seed. Wonyoung flinched each time Hajoon injected another serving of baby gravy against that uttermost sensitive part inside her.

His member kept jerking against the vulnerable walls of her cunt. It was a huge load.

“You can’t…” Wonyoung mumbled. “You gotta… you can’t cum inside me.” Her words were incoherent, and it was also too little, too late. His organ already delivered nearly a dozen spurts directly into her. Even Wonyoung understood that much.

Up to now, nobody had been allowed to ejaculate inside her. Not even her own boyfriend had gotten to enjoy that privilege. This had all been intended to be a one-sided deal, that she would help Hajoon to lose his virginity. But instead, it had turned into a mutual exchange, in which she was allowed to claim his virginity, and he would be allowed to claim her bareback virginity. Her excited pussy got its first taste of semen, and would without a doubt, never forget its first unprotected conqueror.

“Ahh… no…” It was part of her mother’s advice, which had been repeatedly drilled into her head as soon as she had her first period. The women in her family were incredibly fertile, and she should not be taking any risks until she was absolutely ready to become a mom.

All of her sisters had at least one pregnancy scare, too. Despite combining multiple birth control methods.

Wonyoung had no doubts about it. That stubborn triangle between her legs would be more than happy to accept any lucky sperm, and to put her right on course for an early motherhood.

But yet here she was with her trembling legs wide open like a wanton slut, and a real penis throbbing to deliver the final watery spurts of sperm into her battered cunt.

It was almost as if he was seriously trying to inseminate her defenseless vagina. To give her a baby bump and to ruin her prospects of remaining a cheerleader. Wonyoung could feel herself clenching down on his erection at the thought of that, and in response, his member flexed aggressively against the walls of her cunt.

Just like a mare, she thought, she had been mounted and potentially impregnated. Like she was nothing more than an animal. Her family would never forgive her if they found out she made such a mistake, nor would her boyfriend…

“What am I supposed to do now…?” Everything inside her felt gross and slippery. Each time he moved even an inch, she could feel his organ moving inside the puddle he dumped inside her. She might never again feel clean. Her pussy had gotten its first creampie, the most intimate event a girl and a boy can share with one another.

Followed by a bitter sigh, Wonyoung plopped back against the pillow with her legs still open and her lover sheathed inside her vagina. More of his weight was resting on her now, after he had deposited his cum in her and had lost his strength.

There was little she could do now that he already came in her, and her mind was weirdly at ease with the thought. Still, she knew of the risk. She also knew she didn’t want to get knocked up at such a tender young age.

All that adrenaline, which coursed through her veins like never before, helped her to temporarily form a more coherent thought.

An obvious idea occurred to her.

A simple solution to this mess, thanks to modern science. Unlike her mother or her grandmother, she wasn’t completely at the mercy of her partner. A single accident wouldn’t permanently doom her, she couldn’t allow that to happen, she wouldn’t.

Wonyoung extended her arm as far as it would go and pulled her discarded clothes close enough to retrieve her phone. Her sluggish mind was whirring and spinning while she stared at the bright digital screen, until she remembered her password. She navigated her way to the calendar and created a simple reminder; Purchase plan B, ASAP.

Even if it took a day, even if it would take two days, she would be fine. It was a relief. She wouldn’t have to endure a baby growing inside her and she sure as hell wouldn’t have to endure weeks of morning sickness just because she once forgot using a condom.

Throughout it all, Hajoon remained on top of her. Her breasts did little to cushion the way he was pinning her in place. He was truly spent now that he had thoroughly enjoyed his birthday present.

Wonyoung placed her phone on the nightstand, uttered a weary sigh and closed her eyes. She could still feel the vastness of cum that was swirling around inside her vagina. It was so warm and sticky, distinctly different from her own wetness. It didn’t feel right. She felt tainted and dirty. There was a very good reason for why she had never permitted her boyfriend to soil her insides like this.

Even the thought was obscene — that she currently carried millions of his little swimmers inside her womb. Wiggly little sperm tadpoles. Each one with the single goal of ruining her teenage years, by forcing her into an unplanned pregnancy. Sometimes, being a girl certainly sucks… she thought.

And every now and then Wonyoung could feel her pussy twitching around Hajoon shrinking shaft, as if to make up for the growing emptiness within her. Everything about this felt too intimate. She could scarcely believe it, but it almost felt like her vagina was falling in love with the bareback sensation. She grimaced at the thought, but nonetheless felt a warm pressure in her loins. A deep satisfaction. If he wanted to go for another round, she would probably let him.

The room was quiet… she couldn’t even hear the party downstairs anymore. It was fairly tranquil and serene, she thought. Caught by the sullen silence, the two teenagers were moments from falling asleep, entangled as they were.

Until the door handle twisted, and turned.

The bedroom door opened. Jin and Sehun — those friends of Hajoon — entered the room only to change their expressions from ones of curiosity, into ones of surprise and shock.

“Are we interrupting? We’re interrupting,” Sehun said while already being in the midst of trying to close the door again.

“Wait,” Hajoon answered. He was still surprisingly out of breath. “It’s cool. She offered to help me lose my… uh, my virginity. My brother made it happen, I guess. So it’s all good. She isn’t cheating or anything… what are you doing here anyway? Wait, did he… did he send you?”

The situation was weird without a doubt, and Hajoon had no intention of remaining completely naked in the presence of his buddies. He rolled over to cover himself with the bed covers.

Which left Wonyoung with the feeling of how his softened member slipped out of her, with a slick pop, after which a tendril of warm cum drooled out of her freshly fucked pussy. Everything down there felt swollen, tender and sticky. Since she wasn’t making an effort to move, her senses were acutely aware of how all that cum was gradually escaping her. It began to leak out of her slit more richly, oozing down the cheeks of her bum and pooling underneath her.

“Well… he did send us, yeah. But he said something about checking up on everyone. I don’t think this is what he meant…” Sehun surveyed the situation. “But hey, I’m not gonna pass up on this. If she’s all right with it? And if you don’t mind either?”

“Yeah sure, go for it.” Hajoon had his share of fun. He didn’t mind sharing the experience with his closest friends, as well.

None of the guys asked Wonyoung, who still lay on the bed. Considering how widely known her helpful attitude was, the boys simply assumed this was all part of her charity. That she offered herself to be used for their entertainment however they saw fit.

Who knows, maybe this was even some fetish she had, Hajoon thought to himself. She did seem completely at ease with everything, other than that little accident inside her pussy. But even that unwelcome cream filling didn’t seem to bother her much at all. It gave him a newfound motivation to indulge in what he assumed to be her kink.

“Go ahead,” he suggested as he climbed off the bed while keeping the covers wrapped around his lower half.

Sehun and Jin still stood a good distance away. After a brief moment of contemplation, Sehun shrugged his shoulders and began to strip. He was surprisingly fit, with mildly toned muscles underneath his clothes. He wasn’t short on confidence either, he was the only one in their small circle of friends who had an easy time with the ladies.

And so, while Hajoon and Jin retreated with chairs to a corner of the room, to watch the show, Sehun approached the bedside.

“I always thought you were the prettiest.” His eyes wandered over Wonyoung curves. Her pristine, beautiful skin was free of any marks or imperfections. Sehun reached out to give her left tit an inquisitive squeeze.

“The real deal, sweet. I kinda prefer girls with bigger breasts, but it’s not like you’re offering a boobjob anyway.” His gaze moved up and he briefly looked into Wonyoung’s eyes. He could see a trace of confusion and fright, locked behind the entrancing shade of hazelnut of her iris, as if she was trapped inside her own mind. He recognized the look, it was the same one all the intoxicated girls downstairs had.

Wonyoung was fighting a losing battle, certainly. Each little rush of adrenaline had less of an effect to free her mind, she was rapidly succumbing to the alcohol and whatever else she ingested.

“She had a bit too much to drink, didn’t she?” Sehun contemplated the situation for a moment, but it wasn’t his fault that she got herself into this mess. This would be an easy way of teaching her a lesson, while he and his friends would get to have fun. It was harmless anyway, he figured, it’s not like they were harming her.

Sehun knew nothing of the trouble that was brewing in Wonyoung’s loins, with more cum trickling towards her cervix.

Wonyoung still looked up at him, dazed and intoxicated as she was. Each time she breathed in, she grew more aware of the vile scent of drying sperm and her own vaginal juices that seeped into the air and filled the room with the smell of unprotected sex. All she could hope for was an opportunity to fall asleep and to rest.

She simply wanted this to be over, even her own arousal was giving her little more than embarrassment and shame. She took no joy or pride in the fact that everyone currently in the room knew what her cunt smelled like when she was in the mood for another cock. Her pussy was pleading for another dick to own her. But instead, Sehun moved his hand toward her cheek and beyond, grabbing the pillow her head was resting on. With one swift tug, he pulled it away and she uttered a displeased groan in response as her head plopped onto the firm mattress.

It was the beginning of something new, as Sehun relocated the pillow and pushed it underneath Wonyoung’s shapely buttocks. One strong push and it was in place. It raised her crotch, higher up than the rest of her body and much easier to access.

Sehun climbed on top of her.

“Tell me that I’m your boyfriend,” Sehun instructed as he reached for his erection, and used his grip to rub the blunt tip of his cock against the shrouded little point of pleasure, just atop her slit. Wonyoung’s perfectly shaven pussy had gotten sticky with a mixture of fluids. His cockhead applied a gentle pressure on it, just enough to make her curious.

“Ah… ahnn!” Wonyoung released a tender moan, and her soft voice helped to coax more life into his erection. “My… my boyfriend?” She had never felt anything like this. Sex had always been something she would do just to get it over with. It had never even occurred to her, or her boyfriend, that sex could be pleasurable for both of them.

It was her upbringing which had taught her that everything between her legs was a no-no area. So many sensations were flooding her brain, her body was more than amped up to receive more attention.

“You are… my boyfriend?” She weakly repeated his words, though she didn’t care to understand their meaning. She simply wanted this moment to continue. Free of shame and stress, this was the first time that she discovered a new side of herself. And despite her frail and tired mind, she suddenly felt a new rush of energy to urge her onwards.

“That’s right.” Sehun drew small circles around her opening, a dab of his pre-cum smeared all over Wonyoung’s smooth pussy lips.

When he was finally pleased with her growing need, he pushed his cock down to knock against the entrance to her juicy cunt. The battered lips of her pussy were drenched, it was either a mess of her own creation or leftovers from Hajoon’s deposit inside her cunt. She was about to accept the second unprotected dick of her life into her body.

Much like it happened with the first one, she was vaguely aware of a gentle push, followed by the feeling of being spread open by something. This is it, Wonyoung contemplated, and the tip of his erection entered her. She had taken him inside and she was once again allowing a guy to relish the wet embrace of her cunt.

The anxious fear crossed her mind again, as she remembered that she still wasn’t on any birth control. At this rate, she may end up taking another warm batch of sperm into her most vulnerable core — her blind reliance on taking a morning after pill was nagging her. She knew this was a bad idea, and yet—

“Ahnnn!” Wonyoung uttered another perplexed moan as she felt the manly appendage invading her further, stretching her womanhood far more so than the first cock she took.

It was only when she planted her hands on the mattress to push herself into a more upright position that she could gaze at the obscene sight that was playing out further down. While the shadow cast by Sehun’s body made it harder to observe, Wonyoung was able to see the way his grotesquely thick cock was worming its way into her. He would pull back by an inch, and then feed two inches back into her. His actions also just so happened to push all the remaining cum deeper inside her.

“Nnnh,” Wonyoung sighed bitterly. Sehun monstrous size was pushing against some particularly sensitive parts and she was rapidly approaching her breaking point. There was only so much she could safely accommodate, before she would feel the sheer strain and burden of trying to force something unusually big into her. “It won’t fit, it doesn’t fit,” she mumbled with her broken voice, a plea that was ignored. Her hands clutched the bed’s fabric more tightly.

Sehun kept on applying more pressure with every other thrust, coaxing her insides to accept him. It was fortunate that she was so damn wet, otherwise this would’ve proven uncomfortable for both.

Wonyoung’s fists gradually unclenched as she managed to relax. Her breathing still came deep and ragged, and her mouth felt dry, but she was getting used to it all. Even the sounds no longer caused her as much discomfort — that repetitive slick noise each time his member pushed inwards. The way her battered pussy lips simply opened up and allowed his erection to plunge deeper still.

She refused to say it out loud, but it was beginning to feel weirdly pleasant. It felt just right, the way Sehun managed to stimulate those unknown parts within her. Those tender spots she never knew existed.

“Ah! Ohh…” A particularly sharp moan left her brittle lips as she felt him delving deeper than even Hajoon managed to, yet undiscovered parts were opening up to accommodate her lover. In response, Wonyoung parted her legs further.

One foot slipped just off the edge of the bed and dangled uselessly above the carpet, while her other foot remained atop the mattress. Even so, all it did was creating more space inside her. An act that allowed Sehun to pick up the pace with which he was mating with her.

It shaped up to be a proper fuck, with deep hard strokes.

It was so much more intense than she could’ve ever anticipated, a workout for her untrained pussy. And as those ebbing waves of soreness, excitement and lust kept retreating and returning, she soon found herself reaching another height she had yet to experience.

Her first orgasm.

It began with a sensation similar to having just burned herself, her instincts urged her on to touch herself, to reassure herself that she was okay. It was accompanied by a squeezing that she was aware of each time he thrust into her. The soft, slick walls of her cunt clenched down on his member when he pushed in, and when he withdrew she felt empty and hollow. It was like a weird, twisted dance.

Soon she could feel a heaviness emanating from just below her belly button.

It seemed to be spreading in a butterfly shape, growing outwards. It reached down to her thighs, and all the way up to the tips of her tingly fingers. Its intensity kept climbing until she sighed, and bit her lip hard enough to draw traces of blood.

She suddenly felt lightheaded and breathless. Warm shocks of bliss rolled through her and accompanied the fullness in her pussy. Her eyes were shut tight and all her senses concentrated on those feelings, the confusion and joy of her first climax. It felt so damn good.

Simultaneously, Sehun could feel her vagina rhythmically contracting around his dick, damn well making it impossible to push as deep as he had grown accustomed to. But he didn’t need to.

Just as Wonyoung was in the midst of an orgasm, her lover joined her. He repeated the same motions that had forced her over the edge. He fucked into her as he began to deliver a row of thick, virile spurts of semen into the depths of Wonyoung’s defenseless vagina. His persistent thrusting only helped to push it deeper.

Her cervix repeatedly dipped into the sticky mess, in tune to her barely suppressed moans.

A milky pool of cum all but drowned her vulnerable cervix. The boys were certainly doing their very best to try and seal her fate, knowingly or not, they were breeding her unprotected cunt.

The pillow underneath her peach-shaped buttocks all but ensured the sperm had nowhere to go but where it belonged most. She still shivered and gasped, even when her partner slowed down and paused.

“And that’s… that’s how you get it done…”

Sehun allowed his muscles to relax, now that his job was finished. The exertion of his work came crushing down on him. His full weight was lowered onto Wonyoung while he gasped for fresh oxygen.

The air was heavy with the salty taste of sweat and exhaustion. He leered down at her with a toxic, lecherous stare when she eventually opened her eyes. It had taken her a while to recover. He knew he had succeeded in something that perhaps nobody else had attempted yet — to ride her to the peak of pleasure.

Simultaneously, Wonyoung’s senses returned and she regretfully grew aware of that new, added heat in her loins. That damp warmth from all the recklessly deposited sperm that now resided within her. She had taken it all, like a gift she couldn’t return anymore.

Their crotches were fused together for the time being, and she could feel him softening against the tender sides of her pussy.

Even her vulva, somehow, felt more bruised and battered. There were so many things she was suddenly in the midst of discovering. It’s like her world was finally filled with color again, it was real and vivid. Whatever had been mixed into her drink was slowly leaving her system, but the influence of alcohol still affected her strongly.

“Are you… did you… finish?” Her words came timidly. The weight of the situation was slowly closing in on her and she wasn’t sure how to react.

Her caring nature and positivity, clashed with the overwhelming mess this turned out to be.

“Yeah. It was amazing. You were amazing.” Sehun lowered his gaze down to where their genitals were still hugging one another, and slowly withdrew from her sloppy insides. It coaxed a few gasps and sighs from Wonyoung, but he soon felt himself popping free from her pussy’s tight embrace. The way the pillow kept Wonyoung’s crotch propped up, allowed him a particularly lewd sight.

His limp member dangled above her gaping, abused opening and dripped remnants of their combined juices all over, and into, the overexerted slit of her cunt. The shade of his expelled cum blends perfectly with Wonyoung’s pale skin.

It was a strange sight for Wonyoung who never had sex without a condom, and never saw a guy’s ejaculate outside of a thick latex prison. It confirmed her suspicions, she really didn’t like the feeling nor the sight of spunk. Though she couldn’t deny that she had at least a little bit of fun… no that was an understatement. She had to be honest to herself, it had been her first orgasm.

“So who is next,” Hajoon asked. “Jin, you wanna have a go at her? We wouldn’t judge you or anything if you don’t wanna,” he continued while he observed his friend’s reaction.

Of the three friends, Jin was certainly the least social one. Which didn’t mean that he was bad looking by any means, but he was scrawny and quick to grow nervous. Which was entirely to be expected considering he grew up in a household with half a dozen siblings. As the youngest sibling of the bunch, he had always been teased and made fun of. He never had a chance to build his confidence.

“I don’t know, maybe?” His gaze jumped back and forth between his friends, and the cute girl, Wonyoung. who was waiting on the bed with her legs wide open, ready to be fucked with a sullen expression. She didn’t seem too happy about the situation, but she also didn’t glare or anything. She had accepted her fate.

She did however moan sweetly when a pair of fingers delved into her pussy — and shoved all that previously deposited warm lubrication inwards. An unpleasant but familiar sensation, at this point. Sehun seemed to be taking great delight in groping her in every way he could. His sperm-covered fingers left her pussy and trailed back up to her taut, flat stomach — where he drew a wet circle around her belly button before moving further up to cup her breast. A soft squeeze confirmed that her tits were just as responsive as her cunt.

“Yeah, I kind of wanna try.” Jin watched the show and it was mesmerizing. His brothers often brought drunk girls home, and they often would end up being rather vocal about their nightly entertainment.

Unlike Hajoon, Jin had never complained about wishing to lose his virginity. But much like his friends, he failed to see a reason to pass up on this opportunity.

“Sure, she’s ready to go,” Sehun responded while he climbed off the bed.

Once again nobody bothered to inquire for Wonyoung’s thoughts on the matter. She wasn’t even comfortable with her spot on the bed — the pillow elevated her midsection, sure, but that caused her head to rest on the rigid mattress. And her vagina was sore and achy. She also hated the feeling of sperm wedged into every crevice of her cunt.

Though just as she was about to voice her discomfort, Jin climbed on top of her. There wasn’t much wiggle room — it was still just a tiny bed, designed for just one person — so when he planted his elbows on either side of her, she could only glance left and right in case she still had a chance to slip away. She couldn’t.

“Could you… like… turn around?” Jin gazed down at Wonyoung, and for the first time she actually had the presence of mind to look back up at him.

“Turn around,” she repeated his words, albeit more slowly as if trying to decipher the meaning. “What do you mean?” She turned her head and looked at the wooden headrest of the bed. It took her another moment to comprehend his intentions — to turn her body!

She’s never had sex in any position but missionary. It hadn’t occurred to her that some people may have a preference. Wonyoung awkwardly twisted and turned her body around and found herself face-to-face with the mattress she had gotten so familiar with. She also felt the pillow now digging into her crotch. The result was the same, her cunt was raised and easy to access.

A strong blush crept across her cheeks, a burning shame. The growing awareness wasn’t entirely a good thing…

Wonyoung could soon feel something poking her labia again. It was a surprise that her crotch hadn’t turned into more of a sloppy mess, but that simply meant most cum was still somewhere inside her.

Which wasn’t reassuring. Wonyoung felt nauseous, thinking she might get knocked up. She briefly wondered just how much cum would fit into her, before even her baby-frenzied vagina would begin to spit it back out. But then she remembered that even if her pussy would be filled to the brim, her elevated crotch was giving all their combined cum a chance to needle through her cervix and to drool right into her womb.

She shivered warmly and sighed, just long enough for her to question if her vivid imagination coaxed another orgasm out of her… The gentle, careful prodding ceased when she felt Jin’s cock head had successfully located her slit. It made her feel so very vulnerable. She was naked and exposed, and so cursed helpless — yet she did not dare make a fuss about it. Just one more time, she thought to herself. They’re almost done, then I can shower and go home.

Jin inched his hips forward, he had observed the prior dance long enough to have a general idea of how it was done. The bulbous cockhead nudged between Wonyoung’s swollen pussy lips, pushed them apart and then entered the welcoming heat of her loins.

He moaned with a mixture of excitement and surprise — it surpassed his expectations! So caught up in the moment, he eagerly intended to claim more of this newfound pleasure and pushed onwards, slowly but deliberately.

It was an effortless process, Wonyoung took him in with ease. At least physically. Her mind was rebelling. She crossed her arms in front of her face and hid herself, an attempt to conceal her expression — torn between shame, confusion and guilty pleasure.

Her new partner wasn��t as large as the previous ones, but everything inside her had become so sensitive that he didn’t need to be well endowed. She could feel every stroke, every throb. She could hear the soft creaking of the bed frame as he added more weight to her, and she could smell the potent scent of frequent intercourse. Her senses were drowning in an ocean of lust and everything tied to it.

Jin was taking his time, or at least tried to. He was inching back and forth, as if he was afraid he may break her if he pushed too deep, or too fast. He also wanted to make it memorable for himself, stretching these moments for as long as he could manage. Even if two other guys had already used her, it still felt like her pussy was tight enough to snap his dick. It was an impossible embrace, mayhap related to her youth, or rigorous exercise as cheerleader. Whatever it was caused by, it was a blessing.

Another subtle moan left him as he tried to thrust forward and was met with more resistance. It had no right to feel this good to have sex with her, and it was taking his breath away. It was the single-most special experience in his entire life.

Wonyoung felt similar. Her entire crotch felt like it was heating up or burning, like all the nerve endings were firing off signals left and right, to signal her what she already knew: Only her cunt mattered.

Every other push drove those thoughts home, and soaked her mind with more desire. A taboo kind of desire that seemed to be fighting with what little was left of her rational mind.

Wonyoung listened to the way each thrust forced a wet squelch out of her beaten cunt and she moaned sultry. Though just as she was getting closer to claiming another orgasm for herself, she heard her lover releasing a more drawn-out moan. His voice was mixed with emotional release and regret, but also genuine joy. Wonyoung pinched her wrist, to distract herself from the sudden sensation of more cum being delivered into her violated cunt. Hot, sticky bursts showered the depths of her cunny with everything he had stored in his weary testicles. Weeks, maybe months’ worth of pent up semen.

“Ahnn!” She moaned by sheer accident, just as she felt a particular forceful burst against the end of her love tunnel. It was humiliating, she didn’t feel like she had any control over the situation. At least it was over. Or so she thought.

“Are you done? I kind of want to go again,” Hajoon asked. Nobody had the heart or motivation to deny him. They switched places and Wonyoung once again found herself getting used for sex.

It wasn’t a gentle fuck by any means, every thrust caused her face to rub across the mattress, but her energy was depleted. Everything began to blur into one big event, seemingly endless. Her thoughts dimmed and calmed down as she accepted that this would go on for much, much longer.

It was in the midst of that encounter that she finally fell victim to her exhaustion.

After all that had happened, she reached her limit and passed out while still being pounded from behind. It wasn’t graceful and it certainly wasn’t ladylike.

His crotch simply continued to repeatedly slap against the perky cheeks of her behind, to sink every inch of his overeager erection back into her sheathe. Subtle ripples waved outwards each time his flesh impacted with her buttocks. Nobody paid attention to the way she barely reacted anymore. If anything, they took it as sign that she finally consented fully. That she was merely ashamed of enjoying herself.

Hajoon didn’t notice, not even when he came inside her for a second time. Nor did his friends notice that she wasn’t awake anymore when they continued taking turns with her. Until the evening truly came to an end, until they were well and truly sated… Wonyoung had a dreamless slumber. Her body had desperately attempted to rid itself of all the toxins but it didn’t have any power left to spare. Her sleep wasn’t a restful one whatsoever.

A splitting headache assaulted her as soon as she opened her eyes again, much later.

“What the hell did I do…?” She mumbled to herself lethargically, while placing both hands on the sides of her head as if she was afraid it may fall off. Her throat felt incredibly dry, like she hadn’t had a sip of water for weeks. She also noticed that her entire body felt sore which usually only happened after overexerting herself at the gym.

Her mind was a foggy mess. She truly couldn’t remember anything other than getting drunk and praying that someone would turn down the music. The last time she had gotten blackout drunk like this was… on her birthday, probably. Where was she anyway?

She took a quick, panicked look around and found herself still at her boyfriend’s home, in one of the guest rooms. All alone. It was reassuring, even if she couldn’t recall how she got there. Someone must have carried her.

Presumably her boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The blanket clung to her skin, that’s how sticky and sweaty she was. Even in her moody and drained state, she felt grossed out. If there ever had been a time that she needed a good hot shower, this was it. The poor state she was in became more obvious as she crawled out of bed and felt her legs trembling miserably. She walked like a zombie, stumbling forward and dragging her hands along the walls, as she pushed herself to the bathroom without second guessing just why she was already naked. Her eyes fixated entirely on the path ahead of her.

When she finally reached the bathtub, she sat under the showerhead and allowed the warm water to sprinkle over her naked body, which finally lured a groan out of her. She tugged her knees in and rested for what felt like an eternity, simply relaxing and recovering. Her joints ached and her muscles still felt stiff, so it felt heavenly to have a thousand water drops massaging the entirety of her body for so long.

She eventually pulled herself back up to her feet, finished her shower and dried herself off with a cozy, soft towel. It was a treat to feel the fabric caressing her. She studied herself in front of the bathroom mirror while doing so, and for the first time, noticed that her entire vaginal area was enflamed and red. She leaned forward to take a better look, and parted the swollen lips with her fingertips. Her actions were slow and gentle, as if she was afraid she may break something down there by touching it.

Some kind of cloudy, sticky discharge trickled down her thighs almost immediately, and she uttered a startled gasp. It was a mystery to her why she might be so dripping wet on the inside. Did she have some kind of wet dream before she woke up? She wasn’t sure, but she sure as heck hoped that she hadn’t masturbated in the guest room while she was drunk out of her mind. Oh god, even the thought made her nearly choke in embarrassment. Hopefully nobody had noticed that she apparently touched herself. It was time to clean away any evidence of her intoxicated behavior.

She quickly sat down on the toilet seat and grabbed a small box from the side. The contents were what she expected, the private stash of tampons belonging to her boyfriend’s mother. Applicator included.

“Thank god!” An essential household item if she had ever seen one.

She retrieved one of them, parted her legs, and gingerly inserted it between her swollen pussy lips. Her pussy felt bruised and spongy, but she quickly blamed that as well on any kind of unacceptable dream she must’ve had.

She pushed that bad boy home before pressing down on the plunger and securing the tampon in place, somewhere in the back of her vagina where it would help to prevent any kind of awkward discharge. She could still feel some thick fluids sloshing around somewhere within her, thank god she no longer had to be afraid of it oozing down her legs.

“Nope, nope!” It was all icky and strange down there. The less she had to deal with her private parts, the better. She certainly had other things to worry about, she thought. So after using a ball of tissues to wipe the insides of her thighs clean, she returned to her boyfriend’s bedroom to find him soundly asleep. It gave her a good excuse to borrow some of his clothes — at which point she realized that she couldn’t remember taking off her own clothes upon entering the bathroom. She had no idea where those were.

Did she blank out about that, too?

No matter, she grabbed a fresh pair of boxer shorts from his wardrobe, some sweat pants and an oversized shirt before retreating underneath her boyfriend’s blanket. Perhaps now she might be able to claim the restful slumber she had been missing out on. Her soft, warm hands wrapped around his sleeping form as she cuddled up to him and closed her eyes…

Simultaneously in an adjacent room, a distinct noise appeared. An intrusive digital beep, it startled Hajoon and tore him from his dreams.

He had slept on the carpet, right next to his bed.

After the guys had entirely spent themselves, and probably ejaculated every single drop of semen they had to offer into Wonyoung’s receptive pussy, they carried her to the guest bedroom. Hajoon returned to hopelessly stare at the obscene puddle of cum right where she had spent most of her time. On his bed. Which he had no intention to lie in, not after he saw that disgusting mess.

So after using a whole bunch of towels to try and wipe away most of the excess, he stripped off the bed sheets and tossed them into the washing machine. All that spunk had soaked down to the mattress — he had no choice but to sleep on the carpet.

Needless to say he didn’t appreciate being woken up by some loud beeping device.

It did turn out to be a pleasant surprise, however. It was his camcorder’s signal and indicated the batteries were running low. He approached his camcorder — it was still on his desk, right where he had placed it after initially escorting Wonyoung to his room.

His expectations were even more blown out of proportion when he accessed the memory and watched the video file. It was all right there. The girls he recorded at the beginning of the party, the shaky movement when he went upstairs with Wonyoung, and the hours of sexual exploration they shared together. It was recorded at a perfect angle, showing everything. He fast-forwarded the clip, and then quickly ejected the tape to keep it inside one of the drawers of his nightstand.

That’s when he noticed that Wonyoung had forgotten her phone. Curiosity got the better of him, since it still seemed to be unlocked. He browsed right to the picture gallery where he found another little heap of treasures. A whole bunch of — arguably tasteful — nude pictures that she had sent to his older brother.

Hajoon sent a copy of every single one to himself. His little stash would keep him satisfied for months, possibly years to come. Hajoon couldn’t be happier.

But then Wonyoung phone released an urgent beep.

A little notification popped up. It was gibberish: “Purrchess plantB ASAA.”

He barely suppressed a laugh at the memory just how drunk she seemed to be at first, at least until she seemed to sober up temporarily. She must’ve typed that message by accident, he figured. It was just random letters and didn’t make any sense.

His fingertip danced across the digital screen as he swiped to the side and pushed that flashing button that confirmed his selection. Delete notification. After all, she didn’t need a reminder of how drunk she was.

For the following few weeks, none of them dared bringing up the topic of his birthday. They all assumed that Wonyoung simply didn’t want to talk about what happened, they had no idea that she truly didn’t know or remember. Hajoon was perfectly content with the way he got to lose his virginity, and his friends were more than happy with the outcome after they received a copy of the recording.

There were no consequences. Or so they thought.

It was months later, after another pleasant night in her boyfriend’s bed, when Wonyoung woke up to a sensation not much unlike being punched in the stomach. Her eyes flashed open, her hand shot up to cover her mouth, and she desperately stormed out of the room and to the bathroom. She woke up half the house with her sudden noise, and she barely managed to slam the door shut before dry-heaving and coughing into the toilet. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her long cascading hair hung down the sides of her face.

The muscles in her abdomen just kept tensing, and she couldn’t help but to feel utterly devastated and miserable. What was going on, what was happening to her? She was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t think. More than that, she felt terribly weak and ill.

Halfway through, Hyeon arrived as well and approached her on the cold bathroom tiles. He comforted her, hugged her, and reassured her while she bawled her eyes out. When she finally recovered enough to breathe normally again, his hand slid down to grasp the hem of her shirt. He suspected one possible cause for her sickness.

“Don’t,” she panicked and her hands moved on top of his.

“It’s okay.” Once more her boyfriend reassured her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and his hands began to lift her shirt more insistently. Right there, where she used to have a perfectly taut and flat belly, he caught a glimpse of a visible baby bump. It was the first time that he noticed it.

And he smiled back at her.

“Accidents happen.” He comforted her with a tight embrace while he spoke warmly into her ear. “Maybe one of the condoms broke, who knows. It doesn’t matter.”

“I want to keep it,” he added while his hand brushed over the bulge where she carried a baby. She was about to become a mother.

No — more accurately, she had become a mother as soon as one of those wiggly tadpoles had reached her womb, months’ ago at the party. Her fate had been sealed as soon as she had gotten drunk, naked, and ready to be taken entirely bareback.

It was Wonyoung who had to pay the price. Ever since that day, a new life had been growing inside of her.

She trembled and could barely even breathe, emotions were tearing her left and right and tugging at her heartstrings. It felt like a combination of anxiety and bliss. Naturally she believed that it was her boyfriend’s baby that was growing inside her.

She slowly accepted this turn of events. It was a reason to be happy! She felt that the start of something new was waiting just around the corner.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

1K notes · View notes

pedrospatch · 1 year ago

Text

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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wonderjanga · 5 days ago

Text

I May be a Kid but I’m not a Kid Kid.

When Billy’s secret identity was revealed, he started getting treated like a little kid. It really annoys him whenever these guys try to baby him.

Supes: “Billy, uhm… we were wondering if you would like to be moved to the Teen Titans.”

Marvel: “What…?” *sounds absolutely horrified at the thought of that* “Why?”

Supes: “You’d around kids your age.”

Marvel: *stares and blinks rapidly* “Are you saying you’re gonna demote me to the Teen Titans of all things? No offense.”

Supes: “Billy, it’s not a demotion.”

Marvel: “But it is. I’ve been on this team for what? Four years- almost five. You guys are acting like my age automatically means I can’t be a good hero anymore.”

Supes: “We’re not saying that. We just think it’d be good if you were on a team of heroes around your age.”

Marvel: “But you are. You’re literally all but saying it. I like those kids but not enough to want to be on a team with them.” *doesn’t know if he’d like listening to Robin’s condescension in more than small doses* “I prefer you guys. We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

Supes: “Of course!” *happy Billy is still somewhat comfortable around them*

Marvel: “Good.” *smiles* “Besides, I do hang out with kids around my age. Mary and I are the same age while Junior’s a year older than us.”

Supes: “He’s the oldest?”

This conversation got them to back off about kicking him off the team. That didn’t stop them from poking their stupid adult noses into other parts of Billy’s heroics though.

Marvel: *helping someone at like 2am because he patrols as much as he can*

Supes: “Captain! Whatcha doing up this late, champ?”

Marvel: *makes a face that being called champ, but doesn’t say anything about it* “Uh… patrolling? *finishes helping the person*

Supes: “Patrolling? It’s a little late- er early for that. Isn’t it?”

Marvel: “I guess…? I still have a couple more hours.”

Supes: “Shouldn’t you be turning in earlier?”

Marvel: “No…?”

Supes: “Aren’t you tired though? Kids need plenty of sleep.”

Marvel: *a little irked at being called a kid but brushes it off* “Stamina of Atlas, remember?”

Supes: “Oh.” *silence* “Well, maybe you could still turn in earlier?”

Marvel: *looks around for any hidden cameras* “No.”

Supes: “Oh okay…” *doesn’t really want to seem controlling so he just sulks while flying back to Metropolis*

Don’t worry, Superman trying to give him a curfew isn’t the only thing a nosy adult tried to do.

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir? Are the new long term mission signs up sheets out yet?”

Batman: “Ah, yes.” *hands him the sign up tablet* “There are three new ones.”

Marvel: “Great! Any potential overlaps?”

Batman: “Only these two.” *points to two missions*

Marvel: “How long would these two last?” *points to one of the overlapping missions and the one that doesn’t overlap*

Batman: “Together would be about a month and a half or longer.”

Marvel: “Cool.” *is about to sign up for them*

Batman: *remembers school exists* “And school?”

Marvel: *pauses so he can look at Bruce confused* “What about it?”

Batman: “If you sign up for these, you’ll miss at least a month or two. You’d be stuck catching up.”

Marvel: *laughs* “You say that if I actually go to school.”

Batman: “You don’t?”

Marvel: “No.”

Batman: “I see.” *takes the tablet away before Billy can sign* “Well, you’ll go now then.”

Marvel: *thinks he’s joking* “What?”

Batman: “I’ll enroll you in a school in Fawcett.”

Marvel: *stares for a solid minute* “Mr. Batman Sir, you’re not sending me to school.”

Batman: “Yes, I am. William-”

Marvel: “Don’t call me that.”

Batman: *sighs* “Billy, education is important. You shouldn’t put it off for heroics. Even Robin goes to school.”

Marvel: “Okay? I’m not a Robin though. And that only works because you guys patrol at night. If I go to school I’ll miss my day-patrol.”

Batman: “I’m sure there are plenty of other heroes in Fawcett who patrol during the day. Why not leave it to one of them?”

Marvel: “Because I don’t want to. I like saving people. The more heroes who are out in Fawcett, the less likely somebody might get glossed over and hurt because a hero wasn’t there in time to save them. I don’t wanna be the person that failed them just because I was busy with school or because I went to bed early… I say that last part because no matter what Supes thinks, he’s not subtle about wanting me to have a darn curfew.”

Batman: *stares in silence because he now feels a little bad and also empathizes with that “what if I’m not there mentality*

Marvel: *thinks that silence is Bruce still not understanding him* “Look, if you still don’t get what I’m trying to say, imagine if someone came into Gotham and tried pushing you out of the superhero business just because they thought you unfit to be hero. That’s how I feel in this situation. I don’t tell you guys how to your jobs, so why are you trying to tell me?” *reaches over to grab the tablet a sign up for the two missions he wanted to take*

Yeah… Batman started treating him normally after that. Supes also did because his superhearing caught the convo.

Then, there’s his relationship with Flash and GL. They’d taken to treating him like a little kid or nephew even though Billy doesn’t want that.

Marvel: “Could you guys uh- stop treating me like a kid?” *sounds disappointed them*

Flash: *somehow still feels dread at the disappointment even though, NO, this guy is younger than him, why does Barry still feel like he disappointed his dad?* “You are a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but you didn’t used to do this before.”

GL: *also dislikes that he’s bothered by the Dad Disappointment™️ radiating off of Marvel* “That was before we knew you were a kid though.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well I don’t care. I don’t need you to act like this. I don’t want you to act like this. I want friends, not chaperones or parental figures or anything stupid like that. I don’t like that you’re treating me differently now.” *sounds bitter* “You guys seem to forget that I’ve been doing this since before most of you were even, excuse my language, sperm cells. And sure, there was suspendium, but I fought Nazis, commies, and my own villains on top of that, all without being treated like a defenseless little kid and I ended up just fine. So I don’t need any of you acting like I’m a stupid little baby.”

That shut them up. It didn’t make any of the relationships between Billy and them go back to normal though. Not completely anyways. At least it was somewhat better though.

By the way, Billy, throughout all of this, just sounds bitter about being treated like this. He misses his friends guys :(.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 month ago

Text

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

12- Wildfire

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