#It’s going back to my idea that they were both worried the other didn’t love them as much as they thought they did
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izukumidoriyanumber1 · 2 days ago
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Alastor With Soul Owner Overlord S/O
-He loved the fact that you were in control of him at all times
-he was such a sadistic asshole that he would purposefully piss you off so youd pull that chain you had clasped to his neck. 
-he has and will get down on his knees for you
-hes actually fucking nuts
-Alastor loved pain, if only inflicted by you
-the two of you weren’t even technically together, he was just your lap dog
-but he loved it either way
-he loved when you called him ‘my little bitch’
-it really got him going
-alastor had pitched the idea of ‘helping’ out Charlie’s hotel, and you reluctantly agreed. 
-but you genuinely cared about him, truly. 
-take, for example, his with with Adam. 
-you were set to protect Charlie and help fight off the other exorcists, but you were worried about Alastor and his soon to be fight with the first man.
-Once Adam arrived byt the roof, you saw flashes of green and yellows and white as he fought. 
-but Adam sent a long, bright strike towards Alastor, and you felt yourself get weaker.
-once you reached the top of the hotel, you saw Alastor on his hands and knees, clutching his stomach with his broken staff in one hand.
-you gasped and sent a blow to adam that had him staggering for a minute. 
-you took alastor to his radio tower and gave him a stern talking to.
Your face was serious as you looked down at the panting deer demon. 
“Alastor, why didn’t you use your angelic weapon?”
He almost flinched at how stern your voice was.
“My dear, I-”
“You're too reckless, Alastor! You- you were almost killed!” your voice wavered a little, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
He was shocked. You beckoned him to you and retrieved the first aid from the wall. You wrapped his wound carefully in the thick gauze and gingerly buttoned his coat afterwards. Your hand lingered on his heaving chest before coming up to gently cup his face.
His breathing hitched and his eyes visibly softened. Alastor’s gaze held yours and you slowly crept closer, your eyes closing at the closeness. 
You rest your forehead against his, taking in his warmth. 
“I…I was worried about you, Alastor.”
His hand weakly came up to brush away a stray tear. 
“Don’t worry, my love. It won’t happen again.”
-after that, the two of you were closer. 
-closer, as in, like emotionally. I mean, you owned his soul, how much closer could you get?
-You were more affectionate to each other, more loving.
-Eventually, Alastor came up to you and got down on one knee, asking to take your hand in marriage. 
-I mean, the two of you had known each other for decades, you had practically spent a lifetime together.
-He had gotten a ring and all.
-It was done randomly in the newly built hotel, when everyone was conversing and hanging out in the lobby.
Alastor took your hand and lowered to the ground, looking up into your eyes with his glowing red ones. 
You gasped, both in shock and confusion. “Al…”
The rest of the staff turned and watched silently. 
“My love, I feel as though I’ve known you for my entire life. I’m aware this is awfully sudden but I fear you’ve taken my heart within your beautiful hands. I want to hold you, kiss you, and tell you everything will be alright as your husband. Will you marry me, my dear Y/n?”
“Yes, Alastor. Of course I’ll marry you!” 
He leapt forward and placed his lips on yours in a tender, loving kiss. The staff erupted in applause and cheers. 
“Get some, smiles!” Angel cheered, whistling.
Alastor pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 
Tears escaped your eyes and you summoned his golden contract, adorned with his very own signature, and handed it to him.
He looked at it with shock. 
“Really?” 
You nodded. 
He rolled it up and put it in his back pocket, before setting his microphone aside and playing fast paced swing jazz. Alastor took hold of your waist and dipped you low, kissing your lips.
-and then you danced. Everyone else in the hotel paired up and joined in.
-husker with angel, charlie with vaggie, lucifer (begrudgingly) with cherri, and Niffty with a stray egg boi.
-it was sweet, really.
-now, back to the headcanons.
-sex life!
-alastor would make you wait until after your wedding, but after that, it was free reign.
-he preferred missionary so he could see your face and kiss you while he fucked you, and also
-hes an old soul.
-his voice grows about 2 octaves deeper and the static grows but it only makes the experience more enjoyable.
-you’d always loved his voice, but this was your favorite version of alastor.
-his smile was more sultry and lazy than usual.
-if you read the pure hearted s/o hc, i said this as well.
-he looooves to see the bump made in the bottom of your stomach made by his thick lengthy cock. 
-he loves to fill you up with his cum especially if hes in a rut
-even though he cant, he loves to breed you and tell you how badly he wants to give you his children.
-but overall, his soul still remains yours but you gave him the freedom to be able to break that deal anytime he pleased.
-which he couldnt help but admire.
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fanficsbysteve · 1 day ago
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Morning Bliss
Author Note: And thus ended this little trilogy of ideas that I had. Thanks everyone for the likes and reading these stories of mine. I'm working on some other ideas right now. I have a Christmas one that I love and maybe a few other ideas. I also accept Prompts if anyone wants to send those my way. Its not necessary but if you wanted to read them in order it goes Part 1 and Part 2
Rating: PG
W/C: 3408
***
                Tommy was comfortable in bed, relaxing, just staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. Three different bodies were snoring around him. Evan was sprawled across the bed, legs crossing Tommy’s, his torso pushed up against his own. Arms a jumbled mess. He was snoring lightly. The other two were snoring very loudly. Evan had wanted the dogs. So, after meeting them 4 years ago, the two decided to adopt them. So now Mitzi and Bitzi were lying sprawled across the end of the bed. Tommy had the barest sliver on the bed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had gotten used to sleeping as a board on one spot, not moving during his army years.
                Another creature decided to make itself known. Their Orange cat Pickles jumped up onto the bed and started to knead on Tommy’s chest. No claws. They had not declawed her, that would have been cruel, but they did make sure that her claws were trimmed as often as they were brave enough to get scratches everywhere.
                Tommy brought his hand up and started to stroke Pickles across the back as she made biscuits on him. He never understood why everyone called it ‘making biscuits’. As far as he knew you barely kneaded biscuit dough. That’s how it got its flakes and everything. What cats did was more like kneading bread or buns. He was thinking way too into this. Pickles started purring gently as Tommy gave her the love she so desperately deserved.
                “Morning,” A voice came from Tommy’s side. Evan had woken up with the purring it seems. This man could sleep through anything, except the cat purring for some reason.
                “Morning,” Tommy leaned over and gave Evan a deep kiss, “Sleep well?”
                “I was until Pickles here decided to start making her crescendo,” Evan smiled and reached over to stroke the cat as well.
                “I’m still not sure how a cat purring gently wakes you up,” Tommy gestured to the cat, “While the pair of chainsaws at the end of the bed do nothing.” The two dogs both snored loudly at that, the perfect moment. The movement of the bed is not waking them up at all.
                “Well, I’m used to the chainsaws,” Evan said, “You aren’t exactly silent when you sleep,” Evan winked.
                “I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy smiled. He carefully lifted Pickles off his chest, “Ugh there is too much to do today,” He felt his knees being annoying as he stood up. The joys of getting older. All your joints crack like you are a walking talking glowstick, but they refuse to glow, which was very rude of them. As if on cue, he stood up and felt both of his knees crack and his back a bit.
                “Well, you are retired now you know,” Evan stated, “So you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want.”
                Tommy had retired from the LAFD. He was in his mid-forties now. And all the work he had been doing had started to catch up with him. He wasn’t worried though. Evan was still working for the LAFD, and they already owned the house. When they had decided to move in together all those years ago, Evan had sold his loft, and Tommy had sold his house. If they were going to move in together then they should start fresh. Not ‘Evan’s loft’ or ‘Tommy’s house.’ They wanted a place that was both of theirs that didn’t come with any previous baggage. They pooled their assets together and bought a nice house in Ontario. The drive to work for them was murder somedays depending on the traffic, but it was a home of their own. Evan got an amazingly huge kitchen to bake and cook and do whatever culinary endeavors he wants. Tommy managed to bring his Car life with him so he could still do that work. Within a few years of them moving, Evan had been offered a promotion to the LAFD in Ontario. He wasn’t sure he should take it, as it would have taken him away from his 118 family, but each and every one of them had pushed him to take it. So, in the end with everyone supporting him, and promising to come see his new firehouse, Evan agreed to become the Captain of the 368.
                Out of bed, and joints no longer making a weird popping noise, Tommy heads to the stairs heading down from the second floor to the first floor. This was one of the few two-story houses in the area. Being in California, they didn’t have many houses with multiple floors. Not very earthquake safe. But this house called to the two of them. So, the stairs and second floor were part of the deal. The floors were mildly cold this morning, but Tommy wasn’t bothered by it. The cold helped to wake up his senses while he walked down the stairs. As he walked, he heard a noise coming from the bedroom. The dogs had woken up and Evan was playing with them. He got down the stairs and went to the kitchen to start the coffee. Evan wouldn’t forgive him if he messed up the kitchen in his attempts to make breakfast. The kitchen was his domain and Tommy respected that.
                He walked to the front door, the morning newspaper sitting there waiting. Call him old but he did prefer to read his news in an actual newspaper sometimes. Plus, he got to do a crossword with Evan which was always fun. His husband and all this random knowledge made it easier. Setting up at the table, Tommy waited for the coffee to be done. A stampede of noise came from the stairs and Tommy knew that Evan and the dogs were on the way down. Breakfast would be soon.
                When they entered the kitchen, Bitzi beelined her way towards Tommy. Each of the dogs had their favorite human. Bitzi really liked Tommy while Mitzi loved Evan. That’s not to say that they didn’t like other humans, they just knew their favorites. Tommy reached down and started to scratch Bitzi behind her ear, “And how are you doing today my Bitzi-boo?”
                Her tail was wagging and beating against the table leg. He loved this dog so much, “Did you want to go outside?” he asked the dog.
                Saying the magic word, Bitzi and Mitzi both went into an insane level of zoomies around the house, Tommy stood up from the table and head to the door to the backyard. Opening the door, the two dogs ran outside to do their business. Tommy left the door open, while closing the screen door, letting a nice breeze into the room, “So what did you have planned for breakfast?” Tommy asked as he went towards the kitchen. Evan had already started to make something for them.
                “I’m thinking some biscuits and gravy. It’s something we had that time we went to Texas to visit the Reyes-Strands,” Evan explained, “It’s been a while, and I have all the stuff to make fresh biscuits.”
                “That sounds amazing,” Tommy said. He chuckled a little, “I still can’t get over how TK clocked you before you even knew it yourself. His 'I knew it!' and looking triumphant was worth it.”
                “Quiet you,” Evan playfully snapped, “I was still uncertain. Remember how I was all ‘I’m an Ally’ when we first went out? It took a while to figure out what I wanted. Besides, I think he expected me to be with Eddie which would have been so weird.”
                “That would have been very weird indeed,” Tommy winked, “So what do you want me to do to help with this?”
                “Well, I don’t trust you to make the biscuits,” Tommy’s face had a hurt look on it, “You just aren’t that good with baking. So, I won’t need your help until they are in the oven.”
                “Well, I guess I’ll just go sit over at the table and start my crossword then,” Tommy pouted as he went towards his chair. When he got there, he found Pickles stretched across the chair, belly up, “Excuse me miss, you seem to be sitting in my spot,” Pickles made a pawing action at Tommy which he found adorable. He scooped the orange cat up in his hands and brought her up close, feeling her purring into his chest. While the dogs were a joint adoption, Pickles was solely something that Tommy had brought with them. She was a stray that he had started feeding about a decade ago. Eventually she moved in with him and has been with him ever since.
                Sitting in his chair, Pickles purring contently on his lap, Tommy started to do the morning crossword. He did all the easy ones first. Something he didn’t need to ask for help with. Small victories at the start. Soon it got to the harder ones, so he sighed, “What’s a 6-letter word for ‘ear bone’?”
                Evan was busy working away on his biscuit dough. He had today off work, so he didn’t need to rush through breakfast. On these days, Tommy was spoiled. He really didn’t deserve this man but somehow, they have made it work for the past 7 years, “Stapes,” Evan said aloud and spelled it.
                “Thanks, love,” Tommy said filling in the boxes. That gave him the answers to another few before he needed help again. At that moment, however, there was a gentle pawing at the screen door. The dogs wanted to be let in.
                Tommy was about to put down his newspaper when Evan said, “I’ve got it. Need to let the dough rest a bit,” Tommy continued with his crossword, “And how did My Bitches enjoy their time outside?”
                Tommy sighed, “I really wish you wouldn’t call them that.”
                “Why not?” Evan was rubbing both their heads before letting them go towards their food and water bowls, “It’s the correct terminology. A female dog is referred to as a bitch. So calling them my bitches is just me calling them my female dogs.”
                “It just feels weird,” Tommy replied, “Seven letter word. ‘kneecap’.”
                “Patella,” Evan responded back in the kitchen. He washed his hands before going back to making the biscuits. The oven beeped that it had reached the temperature for baking, “You should know that. Aren’t you a firefighter?”
                “I was a pilot,” Tommy filled in the letters, “There were medics on hand for that kind of stuff. I just had to focus on making sure that we didn’t crash.”
                “I just had an idea,” Evan said, “Something to keep you occupied all these retired days.”
                “And that would be?”
                “Well, I know you miss flying,” Evan started to roll out the dough and start cutting it into circles, “And they always want either flying instructors or those ‘Fly over LA’ tour things. Could be something.”
                Tommy looked contemplative. He did miss flying. But did he really want to be some kind of tour guide to the city? He doesn’t really know much about the city he’s spent the past couple of decades living here, “Not sure I would be good as a tour guide. I know exactly nothing about LA except where stuff burned down.”
                “Oh, you can probably just be the pilot who flies people around,” Evan explained, “They give you a route you fly over. Someone else does the talking.”
                “I’ll look into it,” Tommy smiled. He really did miss the flying. And anything that could get him back into the air was very welcome, “Do you remember the first time we met?”
                “How could I forget,” Evan stopped what he was doing for a second to look wistfully into nothing, “Flying into a hurricane to rescue Bobby and Athena after their cruise ship pulled a Poseidon.”
                “I’m sure you know this, but after we landed and the reunions started,” Tommy looked at Evan, “The moment you touched my shoulder. That’s the moment that I knew you were the one for me. I don’t know how, but I just knew it then and there.”
                “And yet,” Evan continued with his biscuits, lying them nicely on a baking tray, “Let’s not forget the time you broke up with me. That wasn’t very smart of you.”
                “Yes well,” Tommy coughed. Evan smiled at him, “As we all know I’ve had to deal with plenty of trauma’s growing up and I didn’t think that I would live up to the ideal that you had for me.”
                “Well, you were the only man I ever wanted,” Evan replied, “And even during all that dating while we were apart, I could only compare everyone to you. This person wasn’t tall enough, this person’s eyes were the wrong color, this person didn’t have your way of speaking. Just a bunch of judgements that I couldn’t stop because deep down, I knew you were the one for me as well.”
                “Looks like we were both smart enough in the end,” Tommy smiled. He had stopped his crossword puzzle at this point. Just content with their cat on his lap, the dogs lying around the kitchen while Evan did the cooking like he always preferred.
                Once the biscuits were in the oven, Evan let Tommy know that he could reenter the kitchen and help with the cooking, “I’ll get you to start browning the sausage,” Evan should really have been a chef in a kitchen. He knew his way around a kitchen better than anyone else he knew, but he loved saving people as a firefighter more than anything. It had given him purpose all those years ago when he first started at the 118. It still gives him purpose today even though he does spend a large amount of time behind a desk now.
                Evan hovered over Tommy as he browned the sausage, “You do know that I can do this,” Tommy smiled as he kept moving the meat around the pan, but leaned in and snuck a kiss from his husband, “Browning meat isn’t the most difficult thing in the world.”
                “I’ve been watching my probies mess things up for too many weeks I guess,” Evan chuckled and stepped back, “I don’t think they could tell the difference between a farfalle, and a cavatappi if I didn’t point it out to them.”
                “I wouldn’t be able to tell either,” Tommy finished with browning the sausage, he then took a step ahead before Evan had a chance to tell him and started by adding a dab of butter for a bit more fat in the pan, and then started to sprinkle in flour to make the roux, “I only know the Italian names because you insist on using them all the time. Us non-culinarily inclined individuals just call them bowties and corkscrews,” letting the flour cook off a bit, to a blond roux, Tommy then added the milk into the pan.
                “Yes well,” Evan coughed, “You seem to have things handled here. I’ll check on the biscuits,” Thankfully they had decided to spend a bit more and had some high-end kitchen equipment ordered when they moved in. Evan had wanted a gas stove, so they got that, and kept the oven separate from the stovetop. That was one of the things he really wanted. That way when he was cooking, he could bake and cook at the same time and check on things. Or like right now, when Tommy was helping to cook, they didn’t need to worry about things burning while one of them was trying to move out of the way to get to the oven.
                The biscuits weren’t ready yet, but they were close, the sausage gravy smelled delicious though. Tommy dipped his pinky into the gravy, getting a slight burning from it and tasted it before starting to add some salt and pepper and a few herbs. Always taste and adjust as you cook is the motto in this kitchen. After mixing a bit, Tommy grabbed a spoon from the drawer next to the stovetop and scooped a little onto the spoon and offered it to Evan, “Let me know if it’s missing anything.”
                Evan took the spoon and tasted the gravy. He clicked his tongue a little and asked, “You added something new from the last time we made this.”
                “Bit more sage,” Tommy admitted, “I like the flavour it adds and the sausage we have doesn’t have enough for my liking.”
                “Tastes good,” Evan admitted, “I’ll have to keep that in mind. We should start making our own sausage instead of buying it all the time. Get the blends that we enjoy.”
                “We are going to turn into that couple that cans and stores and grows everything aren’t we,” Tommy laughed.
                “I mean it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch for me to do that,” Evan joked, “But I don’t think we have enough time right now with my work and you’re piloting.”
                “You know I haven’t decided on that,” Tommy said, “You only brought it up maybe 10 minutes ago.”
                “I know how much being in the air means to you,” Evan replied, “And I know that regardless of your thoughts on it, you will end up looking at something like the tour guide thing. I’m willing to bet on it.”
                “And what are you willing to bet?” Tommy asked, “You know we share everything already so there isn’t much you can bet with.”
                “Oh, I have my ways,” Evan pulled the biscuits out of the oven. Perfectly brown. Nice and fluffy. Tommy had no idea how he managed to do that every single time without fail, “Maybe I’ll show you some of my ways later tonight.”
                “Learned some new tricks?” Tommy was very curious.
                “That’s for me to know and you to find out if you think you can handle it,” Evan started to split the biscuits and dishing up the fresh made breakfast.
                They went to the table and started to eat, “So what plans have you made for us this weekend?”
                Evan took a bite of his meal and before replying, “Well I wanted to go check out that Market down in Orange. Maybe take a walk around La Brea if we have time. Just nice little things to get us out.”
                “Well,” Tommy had an idea that he wanted to bring up with Evan, “We could always ask your sister if we can take Jee out for a day. You know I love having her around.”
                “I love having her around as well,” Evan said, “It would be up to Maddie and Chim, but I don’t think we would have trouble with it. We might also get roped into taking Philip with us as well. Make a family day of it. Maybe check out Disney. They might have some new things to check out.”
                “Evan,” Tommy got serious for a second, “We’ve been together for six years, married for three.”
                “Best six years of my life,” Evan leaned over to give Tommy a heartfelt kiss, “I wouldn’t change anything. I have you, we have Pickles, and we have my bitches.”
                Tommy groaned, “Yes well,” He continued, “I’ve been wondering. Instead of me going off and being a pilot again. We could visit Hen and Karen. They could get us in contact with an adoption agency,” Evans eyes lit up at the mention of it, “I know one thing you’ve always wanted is to be a father. And let’s face it, the chances of one of us getting pregnant is impossible.”
                “And yet we continue to try,” Evan smirked.
                “Yes, we do,” Tommy laughed, “But what if we adopted. Someone would need to stay home and since I’m retired now. Well, I could stay home. Become a stay-at-home dad.”
                Evan’s eyes were just two balls of light and happiness, “This is one of the most personal things you have ever asked of me. I know you didn’t have a wonderful time growing up, so you didn’t want to have that kind of life for a child. But I know you aren’t your father. You would give any child the greatest life.”
                Tommy smiled. He didn’t want to become his father. He would try to not become that person, but having Evan think this about him? That was worth more than anything, “WE would give any child the greatest life,” Tommy reached out and gave Evan’s a hand a nice tight squeeze, “We would do this together. Let’s get your niece and nephew and do some practice this weekend. And let’s see if we can ask Hen and Karen about adoption.”
                Evan just squeezed Tommy’s hand. The look of elation on Evan’s face made all the pain in the past, any kind of troubles they have had worth it. They would do this and they would make a family. Evan, Tommy, Pickles, Mitzi, Bitzi, and a child. A child that needed a family and they would make theirs with them. Tommy smiled so all the crinkles in his face showed up. This would be the perfect future for them.
***
Thanks for reading this. Let me know what you think. I love reading comments on what you thought so let me know. Constructive Criticism is also accepted.
Love, Steve
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kairithemang0 · 6 months ago
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I sometimes wonder if Curt and Owen just wanted a normal relationship. I mean, their relationship is anything but normal. They’re both spies, that’s the obvious one. Either one of them could die on any random mission and the other would need to more on and accept it. I do think they would have wanted something that was more ordinary, where they didn’t need to worry all the time. About them dying, but also getting caught. They can’t just be together, it needs to be secret and kept to themselves. Clearly Curt is sick of his mom asking when he’s getting a girlfriend, he can’t tell her that he has someone because of fear of everything that comes after that.
And now I’m just thinking about all the stuff they’d do if they weren’t held back from doing it. Moving in together and not being questioned about it, seeing each other whenever they wanted to, doing all that sappy couple shit. Of course, their locations don’t help with this either. I don’t think either of them would be willing to move to either of their countries, even if they were free too.
Jesus, the world is against these poor silly guys, isn’t it? :(
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hoshigray · 8 months ago
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Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k
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“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”
“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“
“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”
Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.
Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!
Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 
Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 
Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”
The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”
“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”
“You son of a—“
“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”
Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”
Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”
The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”
As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.
But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.
The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.
He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”
“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 
“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”
“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.
You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.
With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”
He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“
“Alright, round’s over!” 
Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”
“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”
“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.
“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”
You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”
He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 
His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…
You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”
Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”
“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”
“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”
Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.
“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”
“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”
“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  
Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 
Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 
You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”
“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”
“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”
“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 
“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”
“Choke on my dick!”
“You first.”
The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.
As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.
…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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2tarbell · 4 months ago
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MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER
only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…
(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)
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you were going to end rafe cameron.
on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.
now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.
it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.
the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.
“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.
your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.
god was really testing you tonight.
you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.
the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.
“rafe. sit up.”
his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.
“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.
you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.
“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.
he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.
“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”
you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.
“you’re such a pain in my ass—“
“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.
“rafe, i am so serious right now—“
with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.
you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.
“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”
rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.
you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.
“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“
“mmm, can’t control it around you.”
his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—
the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.
“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.
“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.
“go out with me.”
he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.
“rafe—“ you tensed up.
“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“
the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.
“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“
a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.
“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”
his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.
“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.
the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.
“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.
“i am—“
rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.
“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.
rafe, rafe, rafe.
“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?
with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.
“that’s my girl…”
you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.
but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.
rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.
“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.
so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.
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rinhaler · 1 year ago
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Rin Itoshi and female s/o taking each other first time
omgggggg i tried to make it romantic and sweet but i do love a slutty ass dude who's in control so apologies if this isnt exactly what u wanted hehe
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, virgin!rin, virgin!reader, fingering, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, tit sucking, "just the tip" pfft, slight manipulation, brief condom use, premature ejaculation, creampie.
words: 2.9k
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Your heart races as you watch Rin scroll through his phone and find some music to play. He looks so serious, though that’s nothing new. You don’t dare speak, worried you’ll say the wrong thing if you do. He looks up at you, briefly, offering a weak smile before looking through his phone again.
“We don’t have to do this, you know.” he tells you without even looking at you. You watch him as he starts hooking up his phone to the Bluetooth speaker in your room, and you shuffle uncomfortably on top of your bed.
“I want to… ‘m just scared.” you confess, breath shaking slightly as you exhale. “Do you still want to?” you wonder, feeling shy as you ask. You’re sure he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to, though.
Rin doesn’t do anything he has no interest in.
“Yeah.” he tells you, setting his phone down before looking back at you, finally. He’s so far away, it feels too formal. Though you assume he wants to set the pace and make sure everything is comfortable for you both before you proceed. “We agreed,”
“I know.” you nod, recalling the moment you decided as teenagers to give each other your virginities if you hadn’t lost them after you turned twenty. “Just checking.”
The concept of Rin being single, let alone a virgin, is something you can’t even begin to comprehend. You’ve been best friends with him since you could talk. You remember him having no interest in you until you forced your way into playing soccer games with him and his brother. You soon gave it up once you got what you wanted, but you’ve been inseparable ever since.
Girls have always thrown themselves at Rin, but he never cared. Not really. You remember him having one girlfriend and it never went anywhere. It only lasted three weeks. He told you the gory details of their sex lives, though. Only because you asked.
It didn’t go past hand stuff.
“I brought condoms.” he tells you, pulling a box from his bag and setting them down on the desk he’s sitting by.
“I- I’m on the pill.” you respond. “I heard it feels better without… those. But we should use them.”
“Okay, yeah.” he agrees.
“… but we don’t have to.”
“I’ll use one.” he assures you, not wanting to make you feel pressured to go raw for his benefit. Though you’re sure it would be for yours, too. “If you want me to take it off, I can do that.”
You nod, agreeing.
“This is so…” you think, searching around the room for any inspiration of a descriptor to use. He stares at you, intently, wondering what you might say. He’d never tell you, but he’s just as nervous as you are. Of course he has an edge of experience ahead of you, but he’s still clueless. He wants to make sure this is going to be nice for you.
Perfect, if possible.
“What?”
“Formal.” you shrug.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” he responds, scratching his neck as he thinks about what you told him. He looks around, feeling a little too awkward to make eye contact. “I just want to make sure everything’s going to be okay…”
“It’s fine, you’re right.” you smile, “I just thought my first time would be… romantic. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.” you shake your head, dismissing the idea.
You knew you’d end up here with him eventually. You had no intention of losing your virginity to anyone else, after all. You’ve been in love with him for years, and finding out he got a girlfriend almost killed you. It was hard hearing about how they became intimate, but you were so fucking relieved when they broke up.
He only decided to get a girlfriend because he thought you weren’t interested in him, though. You’ve always been a forbidden fruit he wouldn’t dare try to cross a line with. You’re his best friend, after all. He wouldn’t want the romantic feelings he has towards you to ruin that.
“It’s not stupid.” he assures you. “Here, pick some music.” he hands you his phone.
You start to scroll and realise you’re looking on a playlist he created aptly named sex playlist. It makes you giggle, but you don’t comment. And you don’t pay him any mind as he leaves the room while you continue searching for a song.
The boy has good taste, you soon realise.
He comes back a few minutes later with some candles from a nearby cupboard. He knows you too well. You hoard them, you always have. You get an abundance each year for Christmas and rarely use them. He starts lighting them and placing them around the room.
You finally look up as he turns the light on, the room dimly lit by the burning flames scattered around.
“Is this better? I should have gotten some rose petals or something…”
“N-No, this is fine.” you smile, “Thank you, Rinnie, this is nice.”
He clears his throat and sits beside you on your bed. You quickly hand him his phone, prompting him to lean over to place it back down on your desk.
Your heartbeat begins to increase rapidly as he faces you. You haven’t even so much as kissed before, let alone what else will follow. He reaches out to caress your face, and it takes all of your willpower to not flinch.
“R-Rin… do you, um, d-do you watch…”
“Porn? Yeah. Do you?”
His reply makes your face flush with heat and the thought of confessing your own truth makes you even hotter. You look away from him, twiddling your fingers in your lap and looking at those instead.
“I know it won’t be like that… it’s your first time. And mine.” he reminds you.
He’s always been so mature. And you’re glad he’s doing all he can to put you at ease. He puts a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him again. You gulp, nervously, before nodding. He smirks at that.
“Good, I’m glad,” he tells you, beautiful jade eyes flickering with flames as he stares at you. “Means you know what you like.” he leans into you, an attempt to kiss which you immediately back away from. And you apologise, profusely, assuring him that you’re still a little nervous.
“I— I know guys can, you know, it can be quick… s-so don’t feel bad.”
“Don’t worry about that.” he shakes his head. “If I cum quickly, I’ll make sure you finish.”
He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips planting softly on your own. His eyes close as he loses himself to it, though you keep yours open for a little while as you process what is happening.
You’re making out with your best friend!
Though when his large, dominating hands begin to fondle your chest, you pull away entirely.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he wonders.
“N-No, I didn’t expect you to be so confident.” you whisper, and he kisses you again, smiling into it.
Your eyes close as you allow him to continue locking lips with you. His hand entirely gropes one of your tits and his thumb casually strokes over it. Even through the layers of your crop top and bra, you find yourself mewling softly.
He smooths his hand over the curve of your waist until he reaches the bottom of your crop top. His fingers breach upwards towards your bra, roughly groping at it and the fat of your tits.
“O-Ow.” you speak, softly.
“Sorry,” he whispers back, “Can I take your top off?” he asks between continuous kisses.
“Uh-huh.” you nod, dumbly.
He breaks the kiss to quickly pull your crop top over your head. His lips attach to yours again almost instantly as he starts to fiddle with your bra. He stops kissing you, again, to look over your shoulder so that he can undo the clasp. You gasp when he finally unhooks it, keeping the pink material against your chest to preserve your modesty.
“Can I see?” he asks, his eyes moving between yours and your hands. You hum, nervously, but nod. He helps you pull down your straps as you keep the material held firmly against your chest. Sighing, slightly panic in your voice as you strip the material away. “Fuuuuck…” he mutters to himself, adjusting his hardening cock in his pants as he looks at you.
“You should take something off.” you suggest before he can kiss you again. He immediately pulls his t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair back into place right after.
You continue to moan against his lips when he kisses you again. And they only get louder as he kisses down your neck whilst flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He grunts against your skin, battling on whether he should say something to you or stay silent.
He’d hate to ruin the mood.
“Are you hard yet?” you ask him, your shy demeanour leaving you as you lose yourself to the sensation of his hands caressing your body. “S-Should we do it?”
“Wanna feel?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pulls your hand towards the bulge in his jeans, moaning immediately from the contact. “Look what you’ve done to me.” he laughs, pulling you closer and hooking one of your legs over his own.
He scratches the back of his nails up your thigh, stopping just short of dipping under your skirt as you shiver from the touch. His eyes find yours, kissing you reassuringly.
“Can I feel you?” he wonders, and, of course, you nod. His fingers disappear under your pleated skirt, quickly cupping your panty-clad mound. He barely gasps when he comes into contact with your panties. “You’re so wet…”
“S-Stop…” you reply, shyly, “s’embarrassing…” you tell him.
“You need to be wet for me,” he responds, that big, logical, brain of his immediately putting you in your place. Reminding you that he is the one with a little more experience and you need to listen to him. “You’ll be so tight… even for a finger.”
He forces your body down, flat against the bed and flips up your skirt. The cute triangular shape of your panties makes his cock throb, and he moves them into the crease of your thigh.
“Tell me if it hurts…” he requests, staring into your eyes as deft fingers come into contact with sopping flesh. He runs them through your folds, and you jolt when a finger tip grazes your clit. He moves it towards your hole, slowly teasing around it before pushing in. He stops, quickly, when you yelp. “Sorry, I’ll go slower. Hold onto me.” he instructs, a hand wraps around his bicep and squeezes as he continues to plunge his longer finger deep inside.
“Kiss me,” you whimper, pathetically. He drops his head so that your lips can meet again. He devours the moans and cries you emit as he curls his finger in and out of you. It feels odd, but not unpleasant. It’s still painful but it begins to subside.
“Gonna add another, okay?” he asks, and you nod. You hiss, instantly, hands flying down to pull his away. “Sh, sh sh, I’ll go slow again, okay? Gotta be able to take them or we can’t fuck.”
You fight back tears as the stretch begins to sting. He sinks his head lower, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. Your back arches off the bed slightly, coaxing him to look up at you. And then he remembers all of articles he’s read. All of the research he’s done.
He even thinks about his teammates talking about sex.
“You have to worship the clit.” he recalls one of them saying.
He pulls away from your tit, briefly, to line his thumb up with your clit and apply pressure. He circles it carefully, monitoring your expressions as he does. You yelp, trying to close your legs, but he opens them back up with his free hand.
“Are you gonna cum?” he wonders.
“It’s too much, Rinnie!” you gasp, skin tightening over your knuckles until they turn white as you grip the sheets. “S-Slow down, please! S’too much!” you cry, unable to hold back your tears any longer.
He doesn’t relent, however. Hoping the way your body trembles means you’re about to cream all over his fingers. It was an achievement he never reached with his ex without her assistance. She showed him how and where to touch to make her cum. But you’re not her. You’re perfect.
You gasp, breathlessly, as your pussy begins to tighten around his fingers. Your clit throbs as he teases it just right and you begin to cum hard and fast for him. He kisses between the valley of your breaths, whispering sweet nothings as you reach your peak and plummet back down to earth. He slows down his ministrations as you begin to shudder and twitch from the after shocks, looking up at you adoringly when you start to calm down.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” you pant, laughing lightly as you find your sense again. “Rinnie…” you speak, your confident bravado disappearing again as you feel naked and exposed.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me… promise you’re a virgin, too…” you say, looking up at the ceiling. You feel too needy and desperate as you speak. But that was too good for him to not know what’s he’s doing. He’s seriously only done that once on another girl? It’s a little hard to believe.
“I promise. Was it really that good?” he smirks. He kisses both of your nipples softly before sucking his fingers clean of your juices. “I’ve been preparing… reading about stuff. Asking advice. I’ve told you everything I’ve done, I swear.”
He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking off his shoes at the same time. He pulls of his jeans and underwear in the same movement, revealing his large, blushing cock.
“We don’t have to do this.” he assures you, picking up a condom from your desk and tearing the foil with his teeth. He rolls it down his length, the rubbery sheen covers the pretty pink colour of his dick. “Do you want to stop?”
“Um,” you think about it. He’s asking as if he isn’t already raring to go. You look between his erection and his intimidating stare as you think about what to say.
“What about just the tip?” he asks. And at that, you nod. He reaches under your skirt and pulls down your panties to ogle your drippy cunt one more time. He feels himself throb at the thought of splitting your virgin hole open on his fat cock. He’s always known he was big, and he really doesn’t want to hurt you. He can only hope his fingering was enough prep before you rob each other of your innocence for good.
He lines up his cockhead with your virgin slot as he cages you in beneath his wide frame. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss you, your moan semi silenced as he pushes his tip in.
Oh God this isn’t enough.
He knew he’d need more.
Just a little more.
He pushes in a bit further, and you pull your lips away from his to voice your concern.
“H-Hurts,” you tell him. “You’re really big.” you inflate his ego further, earning another inch of his cock.
He can’t help it, you’re spurring him on!
And he can only imagine how much better you’d feel wrapped around him without this stupid fucking rubber on. He stops pushing when you place your palms on his shoulders, forcing him to pull back a little. “Is it the condom, Rin? Is it t-too dry?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes up at him so innocently.
“Yes.” he replies, without hesitation. “I’ll take it off.”
He pulls out of you instantly. He hisses a little as he pulls at the condom too hard and it snaps back. He decides to push it up from the base of his cock, lining up with your cunt again right after.
And it’s like you’re made for him as he pushes in. He smothers any whimper you can make with a searing kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth as he pushes in further and further until there’s nothing left to give.
You’re crying, again, not expecting to feel so much so soon.
“God, you’re beautiful.” he praises you. He moves his hips, slowly. His cockhead unintentionally nudges against your soft spot with every rut. The blinding pleasure prevents you from telling him, once again, that it hurts and it’s too much. “I know I said just the tip, jus’ feel so good, princess.” he whispers delicately against your skin.
And, as expected, he doesn’t last long.
A few pathetic strokes of his cock inside of you have him spilling thick spurts of white cream into your unprotected walls. He collapses on top of you, panting violently as he stuffs you full.
He was so backed up before this. He masturbates, of course, but not as much as the average guy. You’ve had this planned for a few weeks, now, so he decided to abstain so he could really enjoy feeling you for the first time.
“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Should have jerked off before I came over.”
“It’s okay.” you tell him, fingers mussing through his hair as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve finally lost your virginity, to your best friend of all people.
“I need to fuck you again,” he confesses, your fingers stop as you look down at him.
“W- now?”
“Soon,” he corrects you. “I want to taste you first.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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3K notes · View notes
no-144444 · 3 months ago
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the grid: complimenting you!
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featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris
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Oscar Piastri 
Oscar turned the corner into your shared bedroom, and he was worried. It was the first time you’d spent with your estranged sister in years, and he couldn’t even be there. Stupid media days and their awful timing.
There he found you, teary-eyed, and tired on your bed, still in the dress you changed into mere hours ago. He dropped his bag at the door and walked over to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. 
“What happened?” he whispered, gently brushing your cheek. 
You didn’t answer, just shook your head as your eyes welled with tears. You were willing yourself not to cry again. You’d cried so much in the 30 minutes you’d been home that you’d thought crying more wasn’t possible, then Oscar came in with all the care and comfort in the world and that made you want to cry even more. 
He sighed, dropping his hand. “We don’t need to talk,” he whispered. “I’ll run us a bath.”
He left you to regulate yourself again, running a bath in your en suite. He came back, walked you in, slipped your dress off of you and led you into the bath, before doing the same to himself. He sat behind you, gently shampooing your hair just how you like it, softly speaking as he spoke about his day. 
“Then Lando decided it would be a fucking brilliant idea to hide my shoes around HQ,” he chuckled softly, pressing kisses on your neck as you hummed along. This was what you needed. You needed him. After your bath, he got you both dressed and into bed, his arms around you before you started talking. 
“Nothing’s changed,” you mumbled into his neck.
“Pardon?” he whispered.
“Nothing’s changed, since we were kids. She was still the same bully. It’s pathetic really, but I really thought she’d turned a new leaf and wanted to reconnect,” you scoffed. “Silly, I know-”
“That’s not silly, it was hope,” he smiled. “And it’s not your fault that she’s an awful person. That’s not on you. You’re, frustratingly, just the person she’s decided to project her insecurities on, so you get the brunt of it. And that’s everything to do with her, and fuck all to do with you. You’re this incredible, funny, intelligent, talented, complex, beautiful, interesting woman, and you’re strong. So much stronger than the 11 year old she’s used to. She’s pathetic, and she needs to realise that you being brilliant shouldn’t take away from whatever she has going for her, but she can’t. And I’m so sorry that she upsets you, I just need you to know how fucking amazing you are, and how wrong she is about you.”
You hugged him closer. “Thank you Oscar, I love you.”
“I love you so much,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
-------------------
Charles Leclerc
Charles was no stranger to complimenting you at all. He rather enjoyed the way you reacted when he complimented you. Sometimes you smiled, sometimes you laughed, sometimes you rolled your eyes, and sometimes you moaned-
Anyways, you and Charles had been going out for about 2 years at this point, and the entire world was none the wiser. To them, you were just Carlos’s girlfriend’s friend. That’s all you’d ever be, them at least. You got to enjoy the perks of celebrity status, without ever having to compromise your privacy, it was the dream. Sometimes it sucked when you got random videos of random girls on your instagram feed claiming to be with Charles, or claiming that he was with so and so, but you knew it was the sacrifice you needed to make to continue your relationship, and keep your privacy. 
Charles on the other hand, would scream the fact that you were his girlfriend for all to hear if he could. He was obsessed with you. When you’re in the Ferrari garage, he’s constantly trying to touch you, constantly looking at you, constantly winking at you, everything is about you. Most of the time you have to remind him that you’re not dating publicly. Any time you try to remind him, he hits you with “Why don’t they find out now, mi amour?”  To which you roll your eyes. 
What you didn’t think he’d ever do, was post pictures of you on his instagram (face and all, not even soft launching) to his 16.5 million followers with the caption ‘ma femme’.
-------------------
You practically ran through the Ferrari offices in Monaco, racing to get to your boyfriend and talk some sense into him. Too bad he was busy in a meeting with Fred. Kidding, you didn’t care. You knocked on the door, walked in before getting an answer, and grabbed his arm, and dragged him behind you into his own office. 
“You’re crazy,” you sighed. “You’re fucking insane Charles.”
He gave you a guilty smile and a shrug, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m so sorry my love, but I cannot not let everyone know about my most beautiful girl,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “I don’t know what else to do-”
“You can’t sweet-talk your way out of this Charles, what the fuck am I going to do? I have to be a public figure now, I have to do-”
“You’ll do fine,” he whispered, nosing at your neck, breathing in your perfume. “You’ll be alright.”
Somehow, he made you believe him. 
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1,638,937 likes liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlosainz
ma femme
comments
arthurleclerc H20 just add water anyone? -> charlesleclerc she liked that. I did not.
alexalbon dude took hard launching to another level.
carlossainz :)
oscarpiastri wait so does that make Y/n my new mum? -> nicolepiastri Oscar?????? -> y/ny/l/n I promise he's yours :) (maybe? Charles is very attatched to you)
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Daniel Riccardo 
The FIA gala was a yearly event that you’d gotten used to attending. You were Daniel’s wife, and this year, Theo and Ellie, your twins, would finally be old enough to come with. They’d just turned 4, and you trusted them enough to behave themselves at such a public and prestigious event. The entire family was dressed to the nines, Theo and Daniel in matching black tuxedos, while Ellie wore a flowery dress, and you wore a red gown. 
You held Daniel’s hand, Ellie’s hand in your other, while Theo clung to his father like his life depended on it, and you three stepped out onto the carpet, cameras flashing, reporters shouting, people walking. 
After posing for a few photos, Ellie ran up to Penelope and Theo ran off with her, safely in Kelly’s hands. You waited with Daniel as he answered various reporters' questions. 
“And how do you feel about your wife and family supporting you tonight?” 
Daniel’s usual wide smile, somehow, got wider. He turned around and gestured for you to come over, you obliged. “It means more than anything that I have people in my corner, but especially my beautiful wife,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as you chuckled. “And my kids, of course.”
You chuckled as the camera panned to you, and Daniel couldn’t help but kiss you again. 
“She’s just the best person I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky to have her in my life,” he grinned. You continued on with the night, and when you turned to him in your hotel bed, both of you tired and weary, you smiled. 
"I'm pretty luck to have you in my life too."
-------------------
George Russell
“How did you deal with the disappointment after your disqualification, George?” Will asked, and George fought back the urge to roll his eyes, but then remembered what you’d done for him when he got home to Monaco. 
He smiled. “Yeah well, I flew straight back home and kind of moped my way through the airport, but when I got home my lovely girlfriend had set up a dinner for us as a ‘consolation prize’- her words, not mine, and I think it cheered me right up.”
“So, your girlfriend is kind of like your rock?”
George nodded. “Completely. She’s supported my career from the very beginning and I’m very grateful to her for that, especially how she’s been kind enough to follow me around the world on this mad journey every year, all while still being the CEO of her own company, I mean, she’s just so hard-working and amazing, I just-” George was interrupted by Alex chuckling beside him. “Shut up Alex,” George scoffed, smiling. “I love her loads, so, yeah, she’s completely my rock and I adore her.”
-------------------
Alex Albon 
“And you have someone very special with you today, don’t you?” Jack smirked, nodding towards you off-camera. 
Alex smiled, looking at you, then back to Jack. “Yes, my fiancé is here today.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Fiancé?”
“Yeah, we got engaged just during the break,” Alex explained, the biggest smile on his face. 
“Congratulations!” Jack cheered, pulling Alex in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thanks mate,” Alex smiled.
“So, now that you’re to be wed, do you want to join the interview Y/n?” Jack chanced, knowing how notorious you were for not wanting to do interviews. It wasn’t like you were rude or anything, but this was Alex’s sport, you had your own sport (figure skating), and you answered interview questions of your own all year. 
You shook your head, laughing as Jack tried to convince you to join the interview, Alex dying of laughter in the back. Eventually, you gave in, standing beside him with a big smile on your face. 
“So, wedding planning?” Jack turned to you both. 
“Nope, too busy focusing on the Winter Olympics,” you shot back, making Alex laugh. 
“Exactly, I’ll be busy wedding planning while she’s competing this winter,” he wrapped an arm around your waist. 
“Part-time F1 driver, full-time wedding planner?” Jack mused. “Taking time off F1 to plan then?”
“Sounds about right for the most beautiful girl on the planet,” Alex smiled as you felt your cheeks get hot.
You somehow got through the rest of the interview without getting embarrassed by him again, but at the end he pulled you in for a kiss in front of anyone who had decided to tune into the SkySportsF1 channel at that moment. 
Oh well, at least he was going to be your husband. 
-------------------
Lewis Hamilton 
You smiled as he crossed the finish line, another win to add to his 105. It had been a nerve-racking race, but you’d gotten through it. You followed Toto to the pitlane, ready to greet and congratulate him. And there he was, sweaty and gross, but on the top step, where he should be. Where you knew he would be. 
He ran straight over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you over the barrier. You were no stranger to this, over the years he’d always lift you over the barrier to ‘kiss you properly’. 
And he did that. He pressed his lips to yours as the entire Mercedes team cheered. 
“You did it again,” you smiled, pulling back. “Congratulations darling.” 
He smiled. “Thanks baby, I couldn't have done it without you.”
You scoffed and pushed him off, smiling. He had things to do, including the post-race interview.
“Wow Lewis, what a result! Anything special to make it just work this weekend?” 
Lewis smirked at you as you shook your head, begging him not to. “I had some good news this week that made me feel pretty good.”
You rolled your eyes as the crowd went wild. 
“And what would that news be?”
“I’m going to be a dad.” 
The crowd didn’t shut up for about 3 minutes. 
“Yeah,” Lewis continued. “My gorgeous wife is pregnant and I couldn’t be happier to have another little one of her running around. The camera panned to you and you shook your head. Lewis offered you his mic. 
“You can’t charm your way out of this,” you scoffed. 
“I can try,” he shrugged, pulling you into his side. “You are the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he smirked, speaking away from the mic. You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same.
He would be the death of you one of these days. 
-------------------
Max Verstappen 
Max sighed at his Sim as it crashed again, not noticing you coming in the front door. “This fucking thing keeps crashing!” He complained. “It’s such bullshit.”
“Did you try the thing I told you about?” you asked, walking over and leaning down beside him. 
“I did,” he lied. 
You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a shit liar,” you chuckled, starting up the software cleaner to get rid of old useless files. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your arm as you fixed up his sim, completely entranced by you. The chat was going wild as they watched the sweet moment between the two of you. 
You chuckled. “Hi chat,” you waved. “Max is a man-child, you’re right.”
“Hey!” he feigned annoyance as you laughed. 
“I’m kidding!” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You just need me to fix everything for you, right?”
“Well why date a smart girl and not use her brains?” he complimented and you felt yourself getting shy. 
“Shut up- just- your stupid game should work now!” you called after you as you walked off the kitchen. 
“I love you, liefste,” he laughed. 
“Fuck off!” 
-------------------
Lando Norris
“So today, we will be putting it to the test. Who is better in a kart? Me, or my F1 World Champion girlfriend?” 
“I wonder,�� Max chuckled from behind the screen as Lando frowned, and you struggled to keep in your laughter. 
“Well, maybe you’ll win,” you offered, taking his hand. 
“Oh, thanks for the pity vote,” he scoffed. 
“Well, I’ve never lost,” you shrugged. To be fair, you’d had an incredible career, never dnfing, always in the top 3. You were unheard of. “Well, apart from when I lost to Max Fewtrell, our other Quadrant racer, in a race when we were kids.”
Max came on screen for a split-second, smiling about the fact that he’s the only person who’s ever beat you.
“Wait, what?” Lando exclaimed. “Max is the only person who’s ever beat you?”
“To be fair, I was 2 years younger, and it was my first time in an F3 car,” you defended. 
“How did I not know that?” Lando stared at the two of you. “You’re way too talented to have been beaten by Max.”
You burst out laughing as Max’s jaw dropped in shock at Lando’s words. 
“Thanks mate!” Max scoffed. 
“No problem,” Lando smirked back. “I mean seriously though! She’s fucking incredible! You can’t blame me for being a bit shocked.”
“Fuck off!” Max laughed in shock. “At least pretend to still respect me as a driver mate!”
“She’s my girlfriend!”
“I’m your best friend!” 
“She’s World Champion!”
Max was silent, then nodded. “Fair.”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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makeupbychio · 3 months ago
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THE suit // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
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Summary: Now that you are officially part of the x-men team you need a suit. After the help from Hank and Charles to make the suit you kept the final result as a secret to Logan until he saw you in your first mission in THE suit. More than one time you needed more than one suit, not just because Logan will rip off a lot of them, but for other reasons. 
Warnings: Jealous Logan and being a little bit of a brat, Hank and Charles cameo, insecurity towards your body and powers, use of your powers (ecokinesis), Logan being the best protective and comforting boyfriend, mentions of smut, suggestive language, mentions of pregnancy.
Words: 1.9k 
A/N: So thanks for the anon for the request!! Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language. I put angst, fluff and mentions of smut so I hope you like this. Also, reminder that this is a safe place for all body sizes so that's why I don’t mention specifics measurements for the suit. ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them days after you are officially an x-men. Enjoy, love y’all!! <3. 
italics = past. 
— — —
“Hold on, wait. Hank is going to do your suit?” Logan stopped the conversation. You two at the cafeteria grabbing a late night snack. You took the pause to give a bite to your apple. 
“What about it? The Professor told me Hank did all of them” you answered him without any worry in your mind and didn't  understand why he had that frowning look on his face.
”I think Storm should be in charge since your powers are related to nature too”. Logan suggested, trying not to be an asshole. You understand where this was going when he sighed. 
“But Lo, the Professor designed the suits, Hank is just going to sew it and for that he needs to take the correct measurements” you refreshed Logan’s mind, like if it wasn’t obvious that a suit was not going to sew it itself. 
So after that Logan just stopped insisting about it. He trusted Hank of course but something was itching his brain. If he knew you already had an appointment with Hank last week to take the first measurement and the Professor explaining to you how he designed it for you and your powers. 
“So, Y/N. If you didn’t know, Hank came up with the idea to make the suits bulletproof and for your powers we needed to incorporate more resistance to heat changes in case your whole body is on fire or ice. So we needed to play with all of the opposite and different scenarios of the element you were going to manipulate or become, please try it on”. Charles explained to you the work behind your suit. You just nodded, but the Professor can read your mind and know your excitement when you ran to change your clothes and came back with the suit on.
“So you can basically turn into stone one moment and then disappear like air, so we create something that can resist that range of changes, and also of course something to be comfortable for you”. Hank added, proud of the technology he put in the suit while you looked at yourself in the mirror. “You can try it and test what I’m talking about”. 
So you did it, always careful not to hurt them. They were so happy with the final results and you couldn’t thank them enough and can’t wait any longer to wear it. 
“See you next week, Y/N”. The Professor reminded you about the final meeting to correct some details. 
So after that late snack, you both went to bed and before your appointment with Hank, Logan just stopped by his office and greeted him with a casual smile. 
“Logan, how can I help you? Y/N is not here” Hank thought he was there to be with you once you tried on your suit. 
“Don’t worry, she’s still in bed sleeping in our room” Logan gave a cocky smile and highlighted the ‘our’. “Actually I’m here to help YOU. In case you needed help with her suit, just to let you know that I made you a list of her measurements” Logan handed him a piece of paper with the different sizes of the clothes you have. He really thought that was going to work. “You’re welcome, so you don’t have to take the measurements yourself” He smiles proud of himself. 
Hank laughed and didn’t want to ruin Logan’s intention. He just thanked him, if Logan knew the suit was ready in the lab for you to try it and make the last changes. 
“Oh! I almost forgot” Logan turned to Hank before leaving his office. “She’s the smartest person I know, don’t get offended so I’m pretty sure she’s going to give you some ideas for the suit” he made a pause imagining you giving instructions to Hank. “And her favorite color is purple” Logan finally leaves the room without letting Hank answer. Heading himself to the dining room proud of his work. 
Hours later, you went directly to the lab where Hank and the Professor told you to meet. “Okay Y/N so tell us how you feel it, if you want to change something” Hank looked at you looking in the mirror. 
It was really comfortable even when it was really tight to your body. You felt so much confidence, you saw the x mark on it, that wasn’t on the suit the last meeting you had. Also it made justice to your figure and your beautiful curves. 
“Thanks again, it fits perfectly. But Hank I just wanted to ask you if it’s possible if you could add something to the suit…” Hank is paying attention to you. “If there could be like- I don’t know- something for you guys to know which element I’m manipulating or about to, so you don’t get yourself hurt out there during a mission” you asked him nervously because they are the experts.
”Mmmhh, it’s a really good idea but the enemy can use that information too against us to advance an attack” Hank really liked the idea but they had a surprise for you. 
“So dear, we also wanted for you to try this suit too” the Professor went to reach the suit he was talking about. Hiding it inside a box that was wrapped like a gift. 
“Guys, what is this?” you were in total awe when you opened the box. They know how easily you get emotional. Tears are already forming in your eyes. 
“We wanted for you to have your own suit, something that will be just for YOU…” Hank started explaining. “All of us have something that characterizes ourselves and our powers, so someone told us your favorite color is purple and it contrasts perfectly the green that represents your powers…” Hanks kept talking because you went speechless. “I know it sounds cliché to add green for your ecokinesis, if you don’t like it we can change it” he suggested.
You just ran to hug them because it was perfect. “So for your ideas you gave us, we design this…” the Professor handed you another box, but this time smaller. You opened it so fast. “We created these gloves for the changes of elements. So you can use it in the field or on a daily basis” you tried on them immediately and it blew your mind the technology it has, how it’s connected to you to change the colors related to the element, it sparkles so that makes them AMAZING.
“The gloves are more for the missions, because with the suit you hold your powers in case you are not conscious. Also the gloves help you to give your attack a precise target. We’ll learn more about both items while training” Hank explained. 
So when you first wore the x-men suit, you were so nervous about the mission, about everything so you changed clothes in your room. Thinking if this was a good idea. Literally everyone was waiting for you to step into the plane. 
“I’m going” Storm was about to go and search for you when you stepped into the ship. “There you are! K’ let’s go” Storm yelled at Scott to go.
Logan almost fainted, his claws making an appearance without previous warning. He quickly put them back, he was so excited he couldn’t resist to stay close to you. His flirting helped you to stop your nerves. “Sugar, you look amazing…” he gave you a kiss on your check, sitting next to you on the ship. He came closer to your face, whispering “I hope they made like a hundred suits because as soon as we're back in the mansion I’m going to rip it off. God, I can’t wait” You tried to hide the redness of your face, you warned him to behave. 
“Logan, I’m pretty sure the Professor can read your mind, I don’t want to be kicked out of the missions. Or give us separated missions. Do you want me to be paired with Scott instead?” you asked him with a teasing smile. 
“I’m sorry, love. But did you see yourself in the mirror before coming?” Logan really insisted but not too much. “Don’t worry, you’re going to kick asses today and I’ll protect you till the end of times” 
Like I said before, Logan after that would take any opportunity to join you for fittings. Especially if something is different. Logan would be there next to you when you are not comfortable with your body. If you are not comfortable with your powers every time you discover something new about them. After years, he will always be there for you, sitting in front of you looking at you with awe and comforting you even when you’re were not feeling it. 
The only time you skipped a mission was when your suit was not crossing your figure. You tried on your x-men suit and your own suit they made you and it was not stretching enough. The team was on a rush so they let you stay at the mansion. 
Logan asked you when they were back about what happened and you just told him you were feeling under the weather. The Professor already knew the real reason. You distracted Logan enough for you to go to Hank's office. 
“Hi, Hank. Can I ask you something?” you stepped into the room worried. Hank welcomed you worried about your absence in the last mission. “I had a problem with the suit, actually both suits. Is it possible for the fabric to be even more stretchable?” you asked him. 
Next day, after telling Logan the truth about you expecting and how suddenly a big bump you had appeared. That time he almost fainted too. So both of you were in the lab, the Professor and Hank giving you the congratulations when Hank was taking notes of your new measurements for your suits.
“Be careful there, big boy” Logan growled at Hank when he put the measuring tape around your belly. Logan was so protective over you and now your baby. You laughed at him telling not to worry, Logan looking at you with charming eyes while you rub your belly looking at yourself in the mirror. So this was really happening, starting a family.
Hank explained to you your new suits, which were going to be more comfortable for you considering the bump was going to grow even more. But the only thing Logan could think about is to protect you even more out there in the field. 
“Lo, look at me. I can do this” you hold his face when back in the room he told you to reject some missions that were too dangerous just to be cautious. He was scared that if you got injured really bad in your state. He was not going to stop you from going to the missions, because he knows you are one of the strongest and with a single snap you can beat your enemy but he can’t help himself from worrying. “And if I’m not feeling good or at my best to fight I’ll stay here”. you kissed him to calm him down. 
“I know, mama. You are the baddest out there. They could never beat you even if they tried” Logan kissed you back and kneeled to kiss your belly. “I wonder which powers our baby is going to inherit”. Next time Logan went to Hank’s office was to ask for a tiny x-men suit to surprise you. Hank couldn’t say no to Logan because he found a really cute gesture from him even when he had a lot of work left to do. 
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aikastales · 8 months ago
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burnout (jk)
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𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.
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𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader
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𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: yandere, dark romance, slow burn
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total word count: 10k
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PART ONE
Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building? 
He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you. 
At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance. 
And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you. 
“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you. 
Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?” 
He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours. 
You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply. 
Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.” 
“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you. 
Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”
You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams? 
“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?” 
Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.” 
The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud. 
“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.” 
Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?” 
You couldn’t help it. You were curious. 
“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.” 
You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. 
“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you. 
“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast. 
“Alright. Let’s go.” 
Jungkook drove off. 
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As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off. 
The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes. 
“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first. 
You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back. 
He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you. 
“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table. 
“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair. 
Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?” 
You nodded. 
“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.” 
His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?” 
“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.
Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.” 
“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?” 
“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed. 
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.” 
You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications. 
But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did. 
They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.” 
After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation. 
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“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink. 
Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.” 
You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend. 
“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.
Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.” 
“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?” 
He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.” 
You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.” 
“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.” 
“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked. 
“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?” 
“Where?” 
“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,” 
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”
“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.” 
“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.” 
“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you. 
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.” 
“Go for it.” 
“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously. 
“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.” 
It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did. 
“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.” 
You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.” 
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You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester. 
Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.
It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents. 
Tonight was no different. 
You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung. 
“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber. 
“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,” 
“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?” 
“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,” 
“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.” 
“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.” 
“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.” 
You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory. 
“Where are you, Taehyung?” 
“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,” 
“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that. 
“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered. 
Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?” 
“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity. 
“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.” 
Just how deep does blood run? 
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You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see. 
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.” 
“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?” 
“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered. 
His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen. 
“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen. 
“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator. 
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it. 
“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?” 
As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you. 
“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained. 
“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.” 
“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend. 
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him. 
Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed. 
“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?” 
Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.” 
“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.” 
“Do you wanna get punched?” 
“Let’s go right now,” 
“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.” 
Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.” 
Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate. 
“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted. 
“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against. 
“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him. 
“I insist,” Jungkook responded. 
“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah sure,” 
You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment. 
“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.” 
“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment. 
The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first. 
You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said. 
You were fucking lovestruck. 
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Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.
To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing. 
That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.
With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.
You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”
Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.
It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.
“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”
It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook. 
“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.
Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him. 
Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again. 
“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.” 
You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun. 
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PART TWO
As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club. 
What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before. 
After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in. 
You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes. 
“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.” 
With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief. 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?” 
“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.” 
“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted. 
“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?” 
“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.” 
“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?” 
“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.” 
You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office. 
“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.” 
“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.” 
Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” 
“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes. 
This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him. 
Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you. 
Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office. 
Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.” 
You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.” 
“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.” 
“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.” 
“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.” 
“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office. 
Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating. 
Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind. 
You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest. 
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The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you. 
I’ll change and meet you outside the building. 
You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.” 
“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded. 
“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?” 
“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.” 
Your heart fluttered yet again. 
“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle. 
“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.” 
Just like that, you were reminded of reality. 
“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.” 
It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung. 
“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.” 
“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera. 
“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.” 
“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.” 
When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up. 
You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change. 
True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket. 
“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.” 
You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.” 
“Is everything okay?” he asked. 
You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?” 
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” 
“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh. 
“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.” 
“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.” 
There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you. 
“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.” 
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As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here. 
So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase. 
“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. . 
Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely. 
Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you. 
“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did. 
He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you. 
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that. 
You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.” 
To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.” 
And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” 
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.  
You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.” 
“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette. 
“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was. 
“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.” 
“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” 
“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.” 
He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation. 
“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?” 
And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams. 
And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave. 
Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours. 
And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined. 
No sparks. 
No fireworks. 
It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss. 
You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had. 
But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable. 
Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world. 
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PART THREE
You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger. 
Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.  
As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process. 
“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.” 
You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message. 
“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said. 
“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week. 
“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.” 
You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life. 
“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine. 
“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.” 
The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend? 
“If he’s like that—,” 
“He is like that,” 
“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.” 
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When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face. 
Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him. 
You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.” 
He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.” 
“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table. 
“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day. 
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious? 
Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona. 
Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy? 
“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon. 
“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him. 
“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.” 
You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,” 
“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin? 
“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook. 
“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.” 
Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library? 
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Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 
Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true? 
You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?  
Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed. 
“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room. 
“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.” 
You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?” 
“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work. 
Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent. 
Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep. 
Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom. 
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Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards. 
You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering. 
“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses. 
“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie. 
“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,” 
“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,” 
You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of: 
“Lee Haemin.” 
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PART FOUR (a sneak peek)
“Lee Haemin.” 
In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward. 
“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked. 
As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings. 
It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said: 
“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”
Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.” 
“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.” 
“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.” 
Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.” 
“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook. 
She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you." 
"Why would he say that to you?" 
"Because he loved me first." 
And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.
Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”
“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.” 
“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you? 
“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.” 
You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.” 
“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”
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author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika. 
2K notes · View notes
nadvs · 1 month ago
Text
  —⊹ ♡ ︵ ∘  pretty lies ⟢
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
summary you thought you could manage meaninglessly hooking up with your ex-boyfriend. you were sure that if you lied to yourself enough that you’re not still in love with him, you’d eventually believe it. it takes one bad night to see that you’re both still very much attached.
on loop “breakup tutorial” by laraw
content warnings toxic relationship, alcohol, smut
continuation of this blurb, inspired by this ask! started as a blurb but got very long! not necessary to read the previous works. takes place between s2-3. div credit.
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You sit on your bed, the lump in your throat refusing to go away. You’ve been on the verge of crying since your friends left almost half an hour ago.
It was so embarrassing. You were hanging out downstairs, showing them something on your phone. That’s when Rafe texted you, the notification clear for everyone to see.
“Who’s Don’t Text?” one of your friends asked, confused by the contact name.
You locked your screen, meeting their cautious stares, sure they already knew.
Who else would you have saved as Don’t Text other than your toxic ex-boyfriend? It wouldn’t have been so damning if he hadn’t sent ok see you tonight.
So, you admitted it. That you’ve been hooking up with Rafe for the past few weeks, ever since the night of your friend’s birthday when you drunkenly texted him to ask for a ride home.
You knew what they were thinking. That you’re an idiot for inviting the man who you always cried over back into your life, the man who you repeatedly told your friends is an asshole, the man they watched tear your heart out when you tried to make your relationship healthier, just to be told by him that no, it wasn’t going to happen, he wasn’t going to try to get better for you.
While you thought it’d be a relief to have the secret off your chest, it wasn’t. The tension in the room was heavy, your friends piecing together that this is why you didn’t want them to sleep over on the one night you have the house to yourself. It’s because Rafe is coming over after they leave.
As you lean against your pillow, you read through your emotionless conversation with him, a noncommittal string of plans to hook up. Earlier this evening, you had texted my place later? He replied with time? You said around 1. He responded with ok see you tonight.
Your confession made your friends look at you with worry and contempt, asking “are you sure it’s a good idea?” when you told them it’s just sex and that he’s saved as Don’t Text because one day, you really are planning on not texting.
But they weren’t convinced. They said you’ll just undo your healing and wind up hurt all over again. And you’re angry because they’re right.
You brushed past the subject, saying that you’re unattached. It’s a lie.
Every time you see Rafe, you feel shameful relief. He’s a drug that gets better and harder to stop with every hit. Admittedly, you couldn’t wait for your friends to leave so you could sink into mindless pleasure with your ex.
He’s on his way now.
You scroll up to the top of the conversation with him. The oldest message is from when you asked him for a ride a few weeks ago. You had deleted everything, every piece of evidence of your relationship, when you first broke up so that you wouldn’t go back and reminisce.
But you still have a hidden folder in your phone. Of photos and videos and screenshots. And because you must love to torture yourself, you open it.
Photos of memories that you used to cherish and now wish you could forget flood your screen. You open your favorite photo of you and Rafe.
It’s a captured moment of you two on a couch at a house party, unknowingly being photographed as you laugh together, your head thrown back, Rafe gazing at you with a dimpled smile and unconstrained love.
Ironically, the friend who was telling you earlier tonight that he did nothing but make you cry is the one who took the photo.
You continue to scroll through the folder, stopping at a screenshot of a text he sent you. You remember reading it for the first time so clearly.
You’d been together a little over three months. You’d gone to the beach and settled on the sand by a hidden cove. Rafe brought a blanket and your favorite drink and you sat together and talked as the half-moon shone down over the water.
You had innocently asked if he had eaten yet and he opened up to you about how you’re the only person in his life who really cares about him. Nobody else worries if he ate or if he slept or if he’s been drinking too much. You hugged him and kissed him and stroked his hair, whispering promises of how amazing he was.
Your eyes travel over the text he’d sent you the morning after. I can’t believe you’re real.
Those sweet moments were dirtied when your relationship slowly descended into a twisted, toxic mess. Rafe became jealous and controlling and you became combative and unforgiving, both of you poisoning each other the longer you were together.
It’s day and night when you compare how your texts used to be to how they are now. Whether you were on good terms or arguing, at least when you were together, your messages had passion behind them. Now, every text is cold and clinical, making plans to fuck and nothing else.
Your phone buzzes. He’s here.
As you pace down the stairs towards the front door, you regret the way you dressed. After your friends left, you showered and slipped into your sexiest bra and panties and draped a silk robe over your shoulders.
It’s something you’d do when you were together, dressing up in something you know he’d love. But now, it feels silly, going the extra mile for a man who didn’t consider you worth fighting for.
Rafe waits for the door to open. It’s all he fucking does these days. Wait. Wait to get better, wait to be over you, wait to see you texted him and just ignore it instead of feeling his heart come together and break apart.
You keep the lights off, but when you swing open the door, he can see your figure in the muted dark. Your robe is barely held open by the knot over your waist. The sight of your cleavage sends hot electricity through him.
“Hey,” you say impassively, stepping away so he can come inside. You see that he cut his hair. It’s not hanging over his forehead anymore. He buzzed it and he looks so damn handsome that your heart skips a beat.
He grimaces when he notices your expression. This is why he’s been avoiding meeting your eyes lately. Because of that blank way you look at him, unaffected by his presence, only interested in sex, detached when you used to hold onto him like you’d die without him.
Rafe purses his lips, trying to act like seeing you doesn’t make his blood run hot, like one second of looking at you doesn’t make him hard. You’ve been broken up for nearly two months now, so he doesn’t understand why he has the impulse to compliment you on how pretty you dressed for him.
“How long are you alone?” he asks. He doesn’t want to deal with being seen by your parents. You’ve already told him how much your family and friends don’t approve of him. He can do without the reminder of how much he doesn’t fit in your life anymore.
“All night,” you say. “They’re not back until tomorrow.”
He follows you up the stairs, eyes trailing up your bare legs, already wanting to rip that robe off of you.
He hasn’t been in your bedroom in ages. He didn’t expect it to be so hard to be in here again when he owns the title of ex-boyfriend.
You pull him in immediately. You can’t deal with your thoughts anymore. You just want to drown in pleasure with someone who knows your body better than you know it yourself.
Rafe tastes like cinnamon with a hint of whisky, and you’re mad that he’s been drinking, but you think you forfeited the right to be mad at him for his choices when you ended things.
His tongue is warm against yours as you pull him down onto your bed. You sink into the mattress and he hovers over you. His hand roughly drags up your thigh, squeezing your ass, his cock already hard against you.
You hate how much you love the effect you have on him. Why does it make you so proud that you can get him so hard, that you can text him to come over and he does, savoring you like you’re forbidden fruit he’s been starving for?
Rafe’s kisses are ravenous, teeth nipping at your lips, kneading your ass, groaning against your mouth.
You spread your legs so that he’ll touch you and he knows what you want, because at this point, he reads your body like a book. He presses his fingers against your core, rubbing over your panties.
“Couldn’t wait for me, yeah?” he mumbles against your mouth.
Your brows pinch in sadness. Ever since you became exes with benefits, you play this game, dirty-talking taunts, fighting for power, as if one of you can win if you prove that the other needs this more.
But you don’t have it in you tonight. Not after the way your friends looked at you. Not after going through that stupid folder. Your heart weighs a thousand pounds.
“Just…” you breathe.
“Just what?”
He pulls your panties to the side, the warm pads of his fingers making direct contact, and you slightly buck your hips, a whine spilling from your mouth.
“Just what?” he demands, tracing up and down.
“Just make me feel good.”
It’s a plea much deeper than it sounds. You don’t just want the sexual gratification. You want to feel how you did before. Happy with him. Happy with who you are when he’s around.
Rafe’s lips press against your neck, taking on the challenge. He hasn’t gone down on you since the first time you fucked after your break-up, when you roughly pushed him down and sat on his face, using him, treating his body with so much anger.
He tells himself he hasn’t eaten you out since because it’s too loving of a gesture for two people who are just hate-fucking. But it’s not the truth. He doesn’t do it because he falls in love with you even more every time he tastes you.
He can’t bear to need you any more than he already does. You broke him in every sense of the word. You proved to him that he’s unloveable.
“Rafe, please,” you whisper, arching your back.
“What?” he rasps. “What do you want? Just fucking say it.”
You stay silent as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over your neck. He’s frustrated that you’re not answering.
“You want me to go down on you?” he says impatiently.
“Yes,” you whisper. He catches the shakiness in your tone. You don’t sound like who you’ve been since you started hooking up. You sound gentle and adoring like who you used to be with him. You sound like the woman you’re not anymore.
He ignores it, not giving in to ask what the hell is going on with you, not when he knows you’ll brush him off. He pushes your robe off your body, the silk slipping over your skin quickly, and shifts lower to put his head between your legs.
You moan when he kisses you over your panties. Your hands lace in his hair, but you don’t feel the locks you used to feel. Instead, you run your nails over the soft buzzcut, wondering when and why he cut his hair, knowing you won’t ask because you don’t make much conversation with him anymore.
He’s rough when he pulls your panties down, rushing to spread your lips apart and taste you as soon as he can. The heat of his open mouth against you makes you quiver in bliss.
Rafe’s head is swimming. You’re so soft and hot and wet against his mouth, sweet just like he remembered. He groans against you, starting to lap at every dip, your folds slick and delicate.
Your hand runs over his hair as you writhe beneath him, feeling his mouth working you, listening to the sounds of him licking and sucking.
He’s an addict relapsing and he wants to overdose, to replicate how this was when you lived in the promise of a relationship together, even though he knows it’ll kill him.
“Talk how you used to,” he murmurs.
“What?” you ask.
“Do it.” His voice is hoarse as he grips your thigh. He’s fucking mortified to be asking to be spoken to and praised the way he used to when he’d please you like this. But he needs it.
You look down to see Rafe’s head between your thighs, expecting clarity, but getting nothing else. He keeps his eyes off of you, licking you slowly.
“How I used to?” you whisper.
He shifts to run the tip of his tongue over your aching clit, pushing hot pleasure through you. You’ll do anything he wants if he makes you feel like this.
“I can,” you stammer breathily, willing yourself to fall into the old habit. He locks his lips around your clit and you shudder. “Shit. That’s good.”
“Yeah?” he pulls back to groan.
“So fucking good,” you say. “You know exactly what to do.”
Euphoria floods every one of Rafe’s senses and he lets himself believe, for just this moment, that you meant all the good things you said to him and none of the bad.
He sucks your most sensitive spot slowly, warm breaths pooling over you every time he pulls back.
“Just like that,” you whisper. “That’s perfect.”
Your words spur him on, his tongue flat against you, his lips and chin wet and sticky. He’s obsessed with the way you’re talking and breathing and moaning. He loves the sounds you make when you’re so deep in ecstasy that he’s giving you.
Your words are in your throat. You used to tell him you loved him whenever he did this to you, but you can’t and it’s a jarring realization that it’s not because you wouldn’t mean it, but really, because this is supposed to be indulgent and sinful, not loving and sweet.
“Whose?” he rasps. It’s what he used to always ask. Who your pussy belongs to. Whose you are.
You can’t say it.
“Whose?” he demands.
You give in.
“Yours,” you whisper. Saying it makes the tears that’ve been threatening to come out finally fall out of the corners of your eyes.
You’re his and you don’t want to be. Because being his means loving a broken man who doesn’t want to get himself together for you.
Your throat aches as you swallow down the pain, shuffling beneath him so he’ll take his mouth off of you. No matter how earth-shatteringly good it feels, you’ll cry if he keeps going.
You turn to perch up on your knees, looking back, but not meeting his gaze because you can’t handle him seeing you teary-eyed. Too many times in the past, you were vulnerable with him just to be called sensitive.
“Hard,” you say in a hush. You want him behind you, fucking you with force, giving you raw pleasure because you need the reminder that that’s all he’s capable of offering you.
Rafe’s pissed off that you cut it short, roughly tugging off his shirt and pulling down his jeans. He realizes you’re still in your bra and he unhooks it, because if he’s nothing but a fuck to you, he deserves to see all of you.
He holds himself at his base, on his knees, finding your entrance. The head of his cock sinks into you and you push back, needing him now.
Rafe smirks depravedly, revelling in the way you look with your ass up in the air for him, desperate for his cock. Good. Because he’s so fucking desperate for you that he still can only come to the thought of you.
His hands are on your hips and he shoves into you, making you gasp, granting your wish to give it to you hard.
He pulls back, then drives back inside over and over, your skin slapping against his, your ass recoiling with each thrust. Every plunge into you is fucking perfect. You’re squeezing him so tight.
Your breaths quicken, both panting as he fucks you from behind, filling you with a deep, hard pressure. It feels so damn good, your moans uncontrollable, but you can’t shut your mind up.
It’s all too much. Loving someone who accused you of not caring about him as much as he did about you was exhausting, but having to pretend you don’t love him at all is even worse.
You bury your face into your pillow, asking yourself the hell you’re doing, getting dressed up for him, letting him continue to take pieces of you every time you meet like this. For the first time, you can’t get lost in the pleasure. The pain is louder.
Rafe’s fingers dig into your hips as his body tightens with the promise of an orgasm. This is what makes it all worth it. When he’s balls deep in you, he doesn’t have the self-loathing thoughts that haunt him every minute he’s alone, he doesn’t have to pretend he’s somewhere else.
It feels so right to be inside you, even though you’re someone he’s supposed to hate. He’s empty, but with you is the only time he’s whole and he so deeply resents that he’s not enough for you, that all this has to be so goddamn complicated.
He sees stars when he comes, pumping deep inside you, grunting a broken string of fucks into your quiet bedroom air. It’s embarrassing to come this fast, but eating you out got him so worked up that he couldn’t control it.
He’s weak, hunching over, one arm holding himself up as stays inside you and skims his other hand over your hip and between your legs, rubbing your clit exactly how you need to come.
Your face is against the pillow, now wet with tears. You won’t be able to come. You can’t.
“Stop it,” you say, voice thick with sorrow.
You shift forward, feeling him slide out of you, collapsing to your side.
“Fuck,” you mumble in the pillow.
Rafe is at a loss. You were just moaning, pushing back against him, and now you’re angry at him, not wanting to let him give you an orgasm.
“What?” he murmurs, moving to lean over you, his hand resting on your sweat-sheened back. “Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” you say impulsively, because while it’s not physical pain, it is emotional agony. You can’t do this. Casual sex isn’t all that casual when the person you’re doing it with owns you in every possible way.
Rafe stiffens. You’re crying. He can hear it in your voice. When you sniffle, he feels like the lowest of the low, the biggest piece of shit in the world. He must have lost himself in the moment, going too rough.
“Are you okay?” he asks. His hand runs up and down the curve of your back, watching you with worried eyes, but like always, you won’t look at him.
“You can leave now.”
Rafe pulls his hand off of you. The bed shifts when he stands. You hear the shuffle of clothes. You look up to see his broad silhouette leave your bedroom, in just his boxers. You wipe away your tears.
In the dim glow of the lamp light, you watch him come back into your bedroom. He’s holding a towel, damp with warm water, and you’re weak, so you let him lie next to you in bed, gently turning you onto your back and wiping between your legs.
It’s something he’d do as a boyfriend, knowing his way around your home, cleaning you up. Not as an ex who’s using you for sex. Every hook-up you’ve had since you broke up ends with one of you abruptly leaving, no concern for aftercare or pillow talk.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, dabbing gently. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Any and every shred of anger and disappointment he holds for you is silenced. He’s disgusted in himself for hurting you. No matter what you are to him now, you were once the sun in a storm, the only person who didn’t make him feel like he was in the background of his own life.
He sounds devastated and you wriggle in your sheets to get a look at his face. His gaze darts to you for just a moment, but it’s enough for you to see that his eyes glossed over with tears.
You feel a prick on your heart. He’s crying over this? You would’ve thought he’d be fine with hurting you during sex. After all, he’s fine hurting you every other way.
“It wasn’t… it didn’t hurt,” you say softly. It’s the first time you care about not hurting his feelings since your catastrophic break-up.
“What? You said it did.”
You gently put your hand on his, stopping his movements, letting your tears fall now because there’s no point in hiding them anymore.
“I meant… what we’re doing hurts,” you admit, looking down at your hands atop the towel because you can’t bear to look into his eyes. “Hooking up like this. It’s fucking with my head.”
Rafe takes a moment to breathe, his chest rising and falling with tears that won’t stop.
His hand slides out from under yours and he sits up, wiping at his eyes. You toss the towel aside, sitting up, too, finding your robe and draping it over your body, even though he’s seen you naked so many times before.
You watch him in the dusk of your bedroom, the light soft over his handsome features, his lips parted as he stares down and tries to gain composure.
“You’re saying you want to stop?” he finally asks through hitched breaths.
You don’t know the answer. You don’t know if you want to stop having Rafe in your life, even in this twisted capacity.
You’re silent, sniffling as your cries refuse to cease. You can’t believe you’re here, both crying on your bed, both having crumbled so quickly.
“You have to answer me,” he says, blinking fast, his tone on the verge of a whine.
Your face is pinched in misery as you gaze at him. He looks up, his eyes bloodshot and glimmering.
“Do you want to stop?” you ask. It’s mostly a cop-out, a test to see if he feels anything more than lust for you.
“Don’t turn it on me,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “You told me to leave. And I’ll go and never come back if that’s what you want.”
Rafe’s eyes burn from the tears. He’s in pieces. He’s not going to be the one going out on a limb here, asking you to keep this arrangement with him. You have to decide.
“Do your friends know that you still see me?” you ask. What happened earlier tonight with your friends won’t leave your head.
“What?” Rafe squints in frustration.
“Do they?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. How the fuck did he get here? He was just living in a fantasy, finishing inside of you, releasing all his stress, and now, he’s facing the demons that he’s constantly trying to outrun.
“Yeah,” he says. “Why?”
“What do they say?”
“What are you getting at?” he huffs.
“Do they tell you to stop? Or that I’m bad for you?”
“You know we don’t talk like that,” Rafe tells you.
You chew on your lip, gently sweeping under your eyes with shaky fingers. You were the only one he didn’t keep at an emotional distance. The only one he opened up to who never told him to toughen up. It seems that hasn’t changed.
“My friends found out tonight,” you admit. He’s immediately on edge. It was an ongoing theme in your relationship that they never liked him.
“And what, they don’t approve?” Rafe mutters. “So, you’re ending this because you live by their rules?”
You pull your legs forward, curling into a ball with your forehead on your knees.
“Please stop,” you whisper defeatedly. “It’s not like that.”
He stares at you, a hole in his chest as your shoulders skitter with your cries. He always hated seeing you cry.
It’s overwhelming dealing with his own tears, so it’s a million times worse seeing yours. His reflex is to tell you to stop. But when you were his girlfriend, you’d told him, screamed at him really, that it was cruel of him to tell you to quit being sensitive when your body was just letting out pain.
And he’s been ruminating over everything you ever said to him, trying to figure out if there was an exact moment you fell out of love with him. He doesn’t want to be called cruel again.
“What’d they say?” he asks.
You’re surprised to hear the gentle tone of his voice. It’s relieving to not be fighting with him for once.
“That I’ll just end up hurt again,” you confess, your words muffled. “And I am. Already. I don’t remember what it’s like to not hurt.”
Rafe aches, taken aback. You’ve been cold and apathetic every time he’s seen you since the night you drunkenly hooked up in his car as exes. He never knew you were hurting, that he still has the power to do that to you.
“Me, neither,” he admits, his voice brittle. You lift your head to look up at him, needing to see his face to believe it.
“What else?” you ask.
“What else?” he echoes.
“What else do you feel?”
He swallows. It’s odd, not having the urge to hide behind his pride. But your gaze is so sincere, your sniffles so hard to listen to.
Rafe has never been good at talking through his feelings. He prefers to show them by yelling and throwing things and fighting because those methods are easy and safe.
Crying never feels safe. At one point, it did. With you. Before you broke his heart.
“You can tell me,” you say. “I won’t start a fight about it.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you start a fight,” he says, a humorless laugh leaving his lips.
“What do you give a fuck about?” you say, keeping your temper in.
Rafe mumbles your name in frustration, shaking his head.
“I don’t want to… talk to you about this shit just for you to not…” he trails off.
You know your ex well, aware that he needs to be coached through hard conversations. He doesn’t think before he speaks when he’s vulnerable. He rambles, at times all over the place, making it hard to understand him.
“For me to not what?” you ask.
“Think what I think,” he admits.
You rest your cheek on your knee, your eyes stinging with tears.
“What are you thinking?”
“Goddamn it. That I miss you, okay?” he says sharply. “And you just… you look at me like I’m a fucking stranger now.”
It’s the last thing you expected to hear. You thought you were just hook-up to him. Not somebody he misses. Your throat is raw. Your pulse is loud in your ears.
Rafe looks down again, breath shaky as his crying gets closer to sobbing. He’s a mess. He doesn’t do this shit in front of people. He does it alone, when he can’t hold it in any more, letting his cheeks burn with tears when he lies on his pillow at night, knowing there’s no point in trying to stop.
“You miss me?” you repeat. He scoffs, as if he’s angry you pulled it out of him. “What do you miss?”
“Why are you asking me this?” he mutters, annoyed. You always do this, pull at the string barely keeping him together, making him speak. It’s what he always loved and hated about you.
You take a beat before you answer, accepting that you’re about to break the promise you made to yourself to never open up to him again.
“Because I miss you, too,” you admit.
It’s the first time in months that you see light in Rafe’s eyes. A few seconds of heavy silence pass between you.
The moment’s not even over, but you already know you’ll think about it for a long time, about the feeling of sitting with him in your dim room this late at night, practically naked together on your bed, wordless. Every sense of anything sexual is gone, the atmosphere much more fragile.
Even after weeks of hooking up, this is the most intimate moment you’ve shared in a long time.
Then, his brows furrow, uncertainty and anguish flashing on his face. He doesn’t believe you.
“I do,” you say softly, nodding to confirm it.
Rafe opens his mouth to speak, looking down again, another tear rolling down his face and dripping off his chin. You watch the way his glossy bottom lip trembles, as if his mouth is refusing to let him get the words out.
This is when he cracks all the way, holding his head in his hands, silently sobbing. You gaze at him with a broken heart. You’ve seen him cry, but never this hard.
Despite all the pain and anger that festers between you, you shuffle closer. Your bunched up robe falls off your chest and you don’t care. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to cry against your bare shoulder.
“It’s okay,” you whisper.
He shakes his head no against you. It’s so far from okay. It’s not fair to meet someone and give them all of himself just to be ridiculed and told that all of him isn’t enough.
But impulse and muscle memory take over and he wraps his arms wrap around you, bare chests pressed together, his face in the crook of your neck.
“You said I was just like my dad,” he murmurs shakily against your skin.
You squeeze your eyes shut. You compared him to his father once, just once, during a fight when you were together. He’d gotten angry at you for being upset, and you knew his dad had done that to him in the past, and the vile, spiteful words came out of your mouth with no filter.
You regretted it immediately. You had no idea he held onto it, too.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, running your hand up and down the back of his hair. “You’re not. I said that just to hurt you. I didn’t mean it.”
He burrows his face deeper, smelling you, his heavy arms lightly trembling as they encircle you. It’s ridiculous how he wanted an apology from you for so long, but now that you gave it, he feels guilty.
“I hurt you, too,” he says. “Your friends are right to hate me.”
“They’re just protective,” you say, your voice wobbly.
“You shouldn’t…” He breathes in sharply. “You shouldn’t need protection from me. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad so many times.”
Your mind replays your vicious fights before and after your break-up, how deeply he hurt you when he hurled insults at you and accused you of cheating and blamed you for your problems.
But the good parts weave their way in. You were best friends. You made so many good memories. He loved you, took care of you, spoiled you. You always came together after a fight. Until too much damage had been done.
You can’t deny that he fucked up. But you did, too. You were mean. You were spiteful. You ignored him because you knew how much it hurt him.
“I fucked up, too,” you say, never having liked when he spoke low of himself, hating that you’ve called him names and insulted him in the past. “You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”
Rafe exhales shakily. He’s not sure he agrees. He knows there’s a screw loose, something missing in him. Maybe someone like him is fated to hate himself because there’s nothing to love.
“You know why I miss you?” you offer, not waiting for a response. “I had fun with you. I loved how full of life you are and how intensely you care. I loved how you called me your girl and how you much you looked out for me.”
It’s the best thing you could’ve said. This is why you owned his heart. Why you still do. You can unravel him, but you can also you tie him back together. You’re the only one who knows how to.
“Why aren’t you my girl, then?” he finally mumbles.
You swallow hard. It’s not that simple. Not even close.
“You know why,” you say.
Rafe wills himself to pull back, leaving your shoulder wet with his tears, sitting inches away from you.
Your eyes are glossy and red. The sight is pure torture for him. You sigh when he swipes his thumb under your eye, wiping away a fresh tear.
“No, I don’t,” he replies, because really, he’d rather be in a fucked up relationship with you than be apart.
His chest twists with unease. That’s why. He’d choose to be miserable together because at least you’re together. You’d rather be happy with him or be nothing at all.
You look down, frustrated that he still doesn’t get it.
“You always said you loved me more, but it was the other way around,” you say. “Loving someone means wanting to be the best person you can, because it’s what they deserve.”
You meet his hardened eyes, feeling dizzy.
“Why didn’t I deserve it?” you ask.
Rafe’s skin goes cold. He pulls you in, his hands cradling your jaw as he meets your lips tenderly, because he can’t go another second without kissing you. You let him. It feels too good not to.
“You do,” he breathes when he shifts back, his nose nudging yours, his hands still holding your face. “You deserve it. You deserve everything.”
“You’re everything,” you whimper impatiently. He expels a breath of relief. The tears welling in his eyes are from happiness this time. You still care about him. There’s no way you don’t.
“I’ll be better,” Rafe says. You’ve heard him say it so many times before. Your heart isn’t fully out of its cage yet, but you’re willing to listen.
“How?” you say.
It’s been tumbling in his mind nonstop. A world where you’re together is all he thinks about. He straightens, palms still on your cheeks, gazing down at your watery eyes.
“I won’t yell at you,” he says. “I won’t control you. I won’t ever hurt you.”
“You can’t promise to never hurt me,” you say, skeptical.
“Watch me.”
Your lips briefly curl into a sad smile that fades away. He nervously licks his lips, needing you so bad that he feels it in his bones.
He’ll make a fool of himself if he has to. He got this far. He’ll spill his guts to you and if you tell him to leave, he’ll pick himself up and go, because at least he tried. He’s half a person these days anyway.
“I was born to be with you,” Rafe whispers through his tears, staring into the beautiful eyes he dreams about every night. “You’ll always be my girl, alright? I love you.”
A wave of hope and fear and excitement and worry crashes into you. You need a second to understand that this is really happening, to come up for breath.
You gaze at him, taking in how soft and sweet he looks. This is Rafe. Not the man who makes you feel like you can’t do anything right. Beneath everything, beneath his anger and his trauma, the person looking at you is who he really is, someone who just needs to feel loved.
“Talk to me, please, baby,” he begs, thumbs stroking your skin. He can’t take the miserable look on your face. “What are you thinking?”
“That it’s impossible not to love you back,” you confess. “I think maybe we… we can try this again.”
Rafe kisses you hard, passion and joy blazing through him, every part of him wanting every part of you.
Even if you tried, you couldn’t keep track of how many kisses he’s leaving on your lips and your cheeks, overcome with love. You sink into the satisfaction and relief of hope. You never thought you’d feel that with him ever again. Hope.
“I’ll be good to you,” he whispers breathlessly, his forehead against yours. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you,” you say, your hands dragging up his firm, naked back. “I never stopped.”
Rafe kisses you again and again and again, his head swimming, his heart racing. He won’t fuck this up. He’ll die if he loses you again.
He gently pushes you so you’ll lie on your back and you sigh in pure relief when his hand dips between your legs, sliding his fingers up and down.
He’s painfully aware that you never got the pleasure he did tonight. He needs to give you an orgasm, to make you feel all the happiness he possibly can.
“My girl,” he says. “I’ll only ever make you feel good. I promise.”
He shifts to rest his head on your chest, fondling you as he lies right over your heart. He hears it pounding, feeling so lucky that you made space for him in it and so determined to never let it hurt ever again.
You wrap one arm around his shoulders and the other settles over his cheek, stroking softly as he traces circles right where you need him to. Your breath is shaky, your body loose, craving him in every sense.
“I fucking live for you, you know that?” he whispers, finding heaven in the way you’re panting and moaning.
You writhe beneath him, adoring how he knows what to do, knows when to dip a finger in you, when to move back up to your clit.
You whisper that you love him over and over as you reach your orgasm, mind-blowing pleasure ripping through you, sure you’ve never felt this much physical and emotional relief at once.
As you tumble down into a blissful fog, Rafe continues to gently run his fingers over you, moving up to kiss you again.
“I live for you,” he repeats against your mouth.
You feel the same way. You know now that you two weren’t destined to fall. You were meant to be happy together. It just took some time to get there.
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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 1 month ago
Note
Hi! I just saw you’re taking requests and I’m so excited!
I have two ideas if you’re feeling them both ot8 x reader of course!
1. Is reader moving in with the boys , I think it would be real cute
2. The reader finding out she’s pregnant and then having to tell the boys
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝕆𝕙 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪!
Warning: comfort/fluff
Summary: Request!
A/N: This was kind of rushed so i'm going to turn it into a mini series because i really do have a-lot to add when it comes to everything that has to do with their relationships, the baby itself and Y/n. If you would like to be added to this separate taglist comment down below!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Baby, your tummy feels weird,” I.N said, a frown knitting his brows together as he tilted his head slightly to look up at her.
They were cuddled together on the couch, enjoying a lazy day at home. I.N’s head rested on Y/N’s lap while she absentmindedly stroked the back of his head, something he always adored. But today, he didn’t seem quite right.
“What do you mean, love?” Y/N giggled, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his frown, hoping to erase it.
“I don’t know… it just feels hard and strange,” he replied, poking at her abdomen gently, causing her to flinch.
“Baby, stop that!” she laughed, swatting his finger away playfully.
“Seriously! It’s so hard and not squishy like it usually is,” he said, shrugging his shoulders with concern. “Are you on your period?”
“No, my love, not yet. Maybe it’s just because I’ve eaten too much?” she suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
“Hmm, maybe,” he agreed, resting his head back on her lap. They spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies, snuggled under a cozy blanket. But when Chan called, asking if they could pick up some groceries for dinner, they reluctantly decided to get dressed and head out.
“I like having you home,” Y/N said, intertwining their fingers as they walked to the store.
“I like being home with you,” I.N replied, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. The walk was short, but Y/N felt every step weighing her down.
“Are you okay?” I.N chuckled, noticing her panting slightly as they reached the store. “You look a little out of breath.”
“Yes, just a bit winded! Damn, how long has it been since we walked to the store?” she gasped for air, trying to play it off.
“We were just here last week for shampoo, babe,” I.N teased, a grin spreading across his face.
“Oh my God, maybe I’m just getting fat because that felt like a workout,” she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. I.N laughed softly and grabbed the shopping basket like the gentleman he was, following her as she picked out everything they needed—and a few treats for Felix’s baking cabinet.
Once they got home and put away the groceries, Y/N flopped onto the couch. “Can we take a nap?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled against the cushions.
“Babe, we just woke up from one!” I.N said, furrowing his brows in confusion.
“I know, but I still feel really tired. That was a workout, and my back aches,” she huffed, stretching out on the couch.
“Your back aches?” His tone shifted from playful to worried in an instant. “How bad is it?”
“Just a little bit. It’s nothing serious,” she reassured him with a pout, pulling him toward his room. “Cuddle me, please.”
“Alright, but let me grab some cream for your back first. Remove your shirt,” he instructed, and she nodded, slipping off her shirt and lying down comfortably.
When I.N returned with the cream, he lay beside her, his warm hands gently starting to massage the area where her back ached. She let out soft whimpers of relief, her eyes fluttering shut as he worked his magic.
“Is that better?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
“Mmm, much better,” she sighed contentedly, feeling her body relax beneath his touch. Before long, she succumbed to sleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. Satisfied, I.N tidied up the room and put everything away, glancing back at her with a smile before heading downstairs to await the others.
When the boys finally made it home, the sound of laughter filled the air. Chan peeked into I.N's room, raising an eyebrow when he saw Y/N still asleep, a content smile on her face.
“Did you take good care of her?” Chan asked, crossing his arms with a smirk.
“Yeah, she took another nap. She said she was tired,” I.N replied casually as he flipped through the channels on the TV.
“Tired again?” Leeknow asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
“Yeah, we went to the store, and she said her back ached, so I gave her a massage and put her to sleep,” I.N explained, a hint of pride in his voice.
“Maybe her period is about to come. I’ll check the app later,” Leeknow suggested. He leaned in to give I.N a quick kiss before heading up to his room, making sure to check in on Y/N before disappearing to take a shower.
“How was your day, guys?” I.N asked as the rest of the boys slowly started to filter into the room.
“Missed you,” Han said automatically, crawling onto I.N’s lap and snuggling in without a second thought.
“I missed you too, baby,” I.N replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around Han.
“I’ll go check on Y/N,” Felix announced, hopping up and making his way to I.N’s room. Once inside, he climbed onto the bed, instantly cuddling up against her.
Y/N stirred slightly, opening her eyes to see Felix’s tousled blonde hair in her face. She let out a soft giggle before speaking. “Hey, bub,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Hi, hi, hi!” Felix cheered, showering her with light kisses. Knowing how much he loved to be the little spoon, she turned and held him close.
“Missed you,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.
“Missed you too,” he replied, wrapping his leg around her waist and burying his head against her chest. She let out a soft groan as his head nestled right on her sore breasts.
What the hell was going on with her body?
“You’re cuddly today,” she chuckled, continuing to play with his hair.
“You smell nice and feel soft,” he said dreamily, slowly drifting off to sleep. Y/N smiled, allowing him to relax, knowing how exhausting practice could be. She grabbed her phone, curious to check her flow app.
As she scrolled, her jaw dropped in shock. “Oh no…” she gasped, causing Felix to stir slightly but not wake up.
The app showed that she had missed her period. But how? She was always on top of tracking it!
Panic flooded her thoughts as she glanced at the time—it was still only 7 in the evening. She needed to get pregnancy tests. Quickly but quietly, she wiggled out of Felix’s grip and rushed downstairs.
“Woah, woah, woah! Hey there!” Hyunjin chuckled as she nearly knocked into him.
“Hey, bye!” she called over her shoulder, slipping her hand from his grip as she hurried to put on her slippers.
“Are we not getting a welcome home?” Chan yelled, but she was already out the door and in her car, heart racing.
The drive was short, but her mind was racing with negative thoughts. What if? Could she really be…? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she parked.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and headed into the store, her heart pounding in her chest. The fluorescent lights felt almost too bright, but she pushed through, grabbing a couple of pregnancy tests and making her way to the self-checkout.
“Come on, come on…” she muttered under her breath, scanning the items quickly and hoping no one was judging her for the sudden purchase. After paying, she hurried back to her car, clutching the small bag tightly.
As she drove home, every worst-case scenario flooded her mind. What if she was pregnant? How would the boys react? Would they be supportive? Or would they panic?
Pulling into the driveway, she took a moment to collect herself. She couldn’t let them see her like this, all frazzled and scared. She had to stay calm.
With a deep breath, she walked inside, trying to put on a brave face. As she entered the living room, she was met with the warm chaos of her boyfriends, laughter filling the air.
"Hey, everyone!" Y/N managed to say, forcing a smile as she stepped into the living room. She hoped they wouldn't pry too much about what was in the bag she clutched tightly to her chest.
"Hey, baby!" Leeknow greeted her, the warmth in his voice putting her at ease for a moment. "I'm going to start on dinner, okay?" He leaned in and gave her a quick, reassuring kiss before heading to the kitchen.
"Where did you run off too?" Hyunjin asked, not missing a beat as he continued playing video games with Changbin. His eyes flicked to her, curiosity evident in his gaze.
"I went to get some… pads," she lied, her heart racing. She felt like she was about to pass out from the weight of the truth.
"You could've just asked me to run to the store, babe," Chan chimed in, looking up from his phone. "At least we know you've been feeling down lately because of your period."
"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, her voice slightly shaky. "I'm going to go put some on, then I'll come say hi properly."
"Wake up Felix for me! I don't want him sleeping too much," Leeknow called from the kitchen.
"Alright!" she responded, her mind already racing as she dashed upstairs to her room. Once inside the bathroom, she locked the door behind her, hands trembling as she read the instructions on the pregnancy test.
With each step, her anxiety spiked. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself, burying her head in her hands. It felt like the walls were closing in, and tears threatened to spill as she watched the timer tick down agonizingly slow. When it finally went off, she felt like she wasn't ready at all.
"Just rip it off like a band-aid. Don't be scared, Y/N," she encouraged herself, her voice barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath and turned over one of the tests.
"Oh no, no, no…" she gasped, her heart plummeting as she checked the other two. They all said the same thing-positive.
That was it...it was official, she was carrying a baby.
After taking a cold shower to calm down, Y/N made her way to I.N's room to wake up Felix. He was deep in sleep, snoring softly, looking utterly peaceful.
"Baby, you have to wash up and come down for dinner," she said gently, brushing her fingers through his hair. He groaned in response and rubbed his eyes, reluctantly stirring.
Once he was up, they went their opposite ways: Y/N heading downstairs to join the rest of the boys, who were chattering and playing games. She tiptoed over to Han, who was engrossed in his phone. Leaning down, she showered him with soft kisses until his cheeks flushed a deep tomato red.
"Okay, moving on!" she giggled, moving to the next person. She made sure to repeat this with all the boys, leaving a trail of smiles in her wake, before finally settling down next to Chan, who was the only one available.
"Did you have a good day today?" Chan asked, rubbing her back lightly. "Any cramps?"
"Um, no… I just stayed with Innie the whole day, watching movies. What about you?" She felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her-was this the right time to tell them?
“Oh, you know, the usual,” he replied, rolling his eyes playfully. She decided to give him a quick massage on his shoulder as they waited for Leeknow to finish dinner.
A few minutes later, Felix came bounding down the stairs, a bag in hand. Y/N’s eyes widened in panic as she shot up from her seat. No way he found them!
“Y/Nnie!” Felix squealed, his voice piercing through the room. Everyone turned to look at him, curiosity written on their faces.
“Y/Nnie, you’re pregnant?!” Felix practically shouted, his excitement making everyone’s jaws drop.
“What is he talking about?” Chan asked, looking at her with wide eyes. Y/N was in shock, quickly snatching the bag out of Felix's hand.
“Felix, how many times do I have to tell you not to go through my stuff?” she snapped, her heart racing.
“I was just grabbing my moisturizer from your bathroom…” he said, taking a step back, frowning.
“Wait, hold on. Why are you getting mad at him?” Changbin stood up, his brows furrowing. “Are you pregnant?”
I.N grabbed the bag from her, ripping it open to pull out the pregnancy tests. “Holy shit… s-she’s actually pregnant…” His eyes widened in disbelief as he lost his balance, falling back into his seat, while Chan snatched the tests from his hands.
"You didn't tell us?" Chan looked at her, disappointment etched on his face.
"I took three tests, and they all say the same thing," she replied, feeling tears welling up again. "I don't know what to do!"
Chan immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace.
"What's all the commotion?" Leeknow asked, walking into the room, a knife in hand.
"Y/N's pregnant," Seungmin repeated, almost in disbelief.
"What? I thought… wait, hold on…" Leeknow huffed, scanning the room for a seat as if he needed to process this news.
"I-I… I'm sorry, okay? I just took the test. I was going to tell you guys."
"When?" Han pouted, crossing his arms.
"I don't know! I freaked out! This is a lot, okay?" she huffed, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Is that why you ran out of the house?" Hyunjin asked, and she nodded, looking away.
"Holy shi- a baby? A whole baby…" Chan gasped, glancing around the room as if the walls were closing in on them.
"Is that why your stomach feels weird noona?" I.N asked looking at her curiously.
"That's probably one of the reasons yeah," she replied.
"Wah.." he gasped looking amazed. He knew something was off earlier on. He had felt it.
"I never knew it would be this soon," Seungmin said. He was honestly confused and didn't know how to feel about the situation. He just felt bad for her because she was probably scared shitless.
"okay.." Leeknow finally spoke, "we need to have a conversation about condoms and how to use them because obviously one of you slipped up," he rolled his eyes looking at the boys. They all laugh but try to hide it making it even more funnier.
Chan on the other hand looked stressed as fuck.
"Chan say something please.." She begged looking at him.
"oh baby girl, i'm just in shock thats all," he sighed wiping away her stray tears. "I can… I can abort it—"
“NO!” they all shouted in unison, causing her to flinch.
“You actually want me to keep it?” It was her turn to sit down, the weight of the situation crashing over her. Was this actually happening?
“I mean… yeah?” Changbin shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a kid running around,” Felix added, his face lighting up at the thought.
"That would actually be sick, imagine a baby coming with us on tour!" Hyunjin hyped up the situation even more.
"What if there twins?!" Seungmin claps his hands in excitement.
"or Quadtruplets?!" Han gasps.
"Those do run in my family," I.N says smirking.
Y/n couldnt help but smile at the fact that they where excited for this. It made her feel a little better now although she still wasn't sure about the whole situation.
"Plus, we're all financially stable to take care of one. I don't see why not," Han chimed in, nodding in agreement
"Okay, woah, woah, woah, guys. Let's slow down for a second and ask the person who's actually carrying the baby if they're okay with it," Chan said, raising his hands to calm the excitement.
Everyone's eyes landed on her, anticipation hanging thick in the air. Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. She really wasnt expecting this at all and although she felt like she wasnt ready, the way the boys looked at her with hope was the only answer she needed.
"Oh… I guess… let's have a baby? I just-what if I'm not ready for this? What if it changes everything?"
"Life is full of surprises," Chan said gently, kissing her forehead. "But we'll face whatever comes next together. You're strong, and we're all in this with you."
"I… I guess it's just a lot to take in," she admitted, wiping away a few more stray tears. "I wasn't expecting this."
"None of us were," Felix said, a small smile breaking through his breaking through his worry. "But we'll make it work. We're a family, right?"
"Right," Y/N replied, feeling a flicker of hope. "I just need some time to process it all.”
"Take all the time you need jagi," Hyunjin reassured her.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3
A/N: Thank you anon! (Taglist open)
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mimikittysblog · 19 days ago
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♡21:40♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Poly! Ateez x Fem! Reader
Genre: Super duper fluffy
Warnings: some mxm, pet names, reader is very sick
A/N: Hope you guys like this as much as you like the texts 🥺💕 tho ngl the ending is a bit meh. Anyways likes, replies and reblogs are so appreciated!
Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity (if you wanna be tagged in my next poly ateez story, texts or not then please let me know!)
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
You were sick.
Like very sick.
You had been for a while and you really thought it would just go away after some time and with a few cups of good tea. However it was just one of those times where it didn’t and it lead to where you were now.
Flopped on the couch after a long days of work so sick, tired and weak to the point you didn’t even take off your shoes, let alone take a shower.
You knew you should’ve taken the day off and even more so you should’ve informed your lovely 8 boyfriends of your condition. However it was so busy for not only you but your boys this time of year. Your job really needed you around and the boys had to be on their A game.
Not like they weren’t always were. Those boys are so admirable when it comes to their work ethic and determination. It’s one of the things you love about them. It’s just this time of year is when they really have NO room to slack off. So you didn’t have the heart to tell them.
You barely see them around anyway, as they come home late and you leave early. You couldn’t bare the thought of them having to deal with you when they’re already so busy with work, no doubt dealing with so much pressure and stress. Even though deep down you knew they wouldn’t care and would drop anything to make sure you’re okay.
‘Cause you would do the exact same thing.
About an hour after you practically passed out on the couch, Yunho and San arrived home.
Thankfully they were able to get all the work they needed to get done super quick today, so they got home much earlier than usual. As they walked into the living room thats when Yunho spotted you.
He chuckled at how cutely you looked and then pointed you out to San who awed at you. They thought you just got home too and decided to close your eyes for a bit.
“Princess we’re home.” Yunho called sweetly.
“Come on now silly butt, get up so we can shower together.” San said with a big smile at the thought of relaxing under the shower with his lovers.
However you didn’t respond.
They both pouted and furrowed their eyebrows as they got closer. You were asleep? That’s quite unlike you. They knew how much you love a refreshing shower after work then to change into one of their hoodies. Were you that tired?
“..sweetheart?” Yunho said as he crouched down next to the couch. He softly moved your hair out of your face to check up on you.
Just from that very soft touch alone he was able to tell how hot your skin was. His eyes widened and as he looked at San with worry.
“Baby you’re sick??” He asked surprised as he looked back at you wondering how he and the rest had no idea.
“What?” San questioned softly as he crouched next to Yunho.
He then places the back of his hand properly on your forehead. His eyes also then widened with worry as there was no denying it.
You were incredibly sick.
Their hearts clenched at how they truly had no clue how sick you were, how much you needed them and how you didn’t tell them..
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
Yunho: Guys. Come home. Now.
Seonghwa: what why? What’s the matter?
San: Princess is sick. She has such a high fever and from the sound of her breathing her nose is stuffed. She’s literally passed out on the couch rn and god knows what other sicknesses she’s having.
Wooyoung: WHAT?! She didn’t tell us anything! 🥺
Yunho: I know and at this point that doesn’t matter rn. She needs us. Hurry.
After they sent the texts to the rest of them they quickly got to work.
As Yunho picked you up softly and carried you to bed, San prepared a small basin filled with cold water and some towels. As Yunho was undressing you, San brought in the basin and they both started cleaning you as softly as they could.
Truly not long after they started, they heard the front door open and peeked in Jongho, Seonghwa and Wooyoung.
“How bad is it..?” Jongho asked as he softly entered the room with the rest.
“..bad..” Yunho muttered.
Seonghwa then carefully approached you and placed his hand on your forehead too and almost gasped.
“She’s burning up.. Oh God our poor princess..” he said as he softly ran his hand through your hair.
Wooyoung then approached Yunho with a hoodie from their closet and your shorts.
“Thank you love.” Yunho said softly as he gave Wooyoung a kiss on the head and started dressing you as soon as San was sure you were dry.
“Seonghwa hyung and I are gonna go make her some soup. Yeosang is already on his way home, Hongjoong hyung and Mingi are going as fast as they can to finish recording. They’ll be home soon..” He mumbled to the two who arrived home first.
“Okay.. I’ll go help you cook too, you two will watch over her?” San asked
“Yeah of course.” Jongho confirmed as he sat down next to you and softly stroked your hair.
Yunho then nodded as he gave wooyoung another kiss and sent him on his way.
“You’ve eaten Yunho?” Seonghwa asked.
“Uh.. no not yet hyung. We got take out but we haven’t eaten it yet...” Yunho explained as his eyes trailed back down to you.
“Hmm alright.. I’ll make Sannie eat then once he’s done you can eat and San will watch over.” Seonghwa said as he reached over to grab his hand.
“Alright hyung.. thank you..”
“Of course.”
With that he gave yunho’s hand a comforting squeeze then gave jongho a sweet pat on the head before leaving to join the others in the kitchen.
“Could she really not tell us she was this sick..?” Jongho asked softly still stroking your hair.
“I.. don’t know.. we’ll ask her when she’s awake and feeling better.” Yunho replied as he sat down on the bed as well softly holding your hand.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
As they continued to watch over you, after a while they heard the front door open and some muttering. Soon the door to the room opened again revealing Yeosang.
“Oh princess… she looks so pale..” He muttered as he made his way to her. “Has she not woken up yet?” He asked as he stood beside Jongho.
“No.. we should just let her rest before we wake her up to eat.” Jongho replied.
“Hmm. I bought some medicine on my way home.. Hopefully they’re enough.. if not we can take her to a doctor…” Yeosang informs the two boys as he placed the medicine on a nearby table.
“Thank you Sangie..” Yunho said before continuing to ask if the soup is ready. And right on cue, Wooyoung popped his head in again.
“Soups ready. And yunho baby, Hyung wants you to eat now.” He said.
The lovers in the room then nodded.
As softly as he possibly could, Yunho began to wake you up.
“Princess.. princess.. wake up please..? We need you to eat and take some medicine…” He said oh so softly with some extra soft shakes.
“Baby..? Baaaabbyy..” Yeosang also called out to you.
Your eyes soon started to flutter open as you take in your surroundings. You however closed them again quickly as the headache in your head began.
“Ugh..” you groaned
“Oh baby what is it..? Your head hurts..?” Jongho who was still stroking your hair asked.
You could only nod.
“Honey bun.. do you think you can get up..? You need to eat..” Wooyoung asked
Slowly you opened your eyes again and finally realized your sweet boyfriends were home.
“Wait.. you guys are home? So early..” You muttered, voice so hoarse it made everyone frown.
“Yes we are sweetie.. we’ll talk about that later.. now we should get some yummy food in that belly okay..? Do you think you can get up..?” Yunho replied then asked.
Your head was still pounding and as much as you wanted to try, you knew its best to just stay, so you softly shook your head.
“Okay I’ll tell hyung, come Yunho you still need to eat.” Wooyoung then said as he retreated back to the kitchen.
Yunho didn’t really have an appetite after seeing how sick you were and he wanted nothing more than to just stay and make sure you’re okay. However he knows his boyfriends and even you will scold him if he doesn’t eat. So with that he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead and got up to go eat.
“I’ll be right back okay..? Jongie and Sangie will be right here.. Eat well darling.” He said to you before leaving.
You could only nod back before looking back at your boyfriends.
“When did you guys get home..?” You asked
“Yunho hyung and San hyung got home first and found you.. told us and then I, Wooyoung hyung and Seonghwa hyung quickly got home after that. They just finished cooking your soup.” Jongho explained.
“Hmm I just got home, and I’m pretty sure Mingi and Hongjoong hyung will be home any minute.” Yeosang added.
You then hummed before Seonghwa and San came into the room carrying a tray of a big bowl of soup and some of your favorite tea.
“Hi our darling..” Seonghwa greets you as San puts down the tray in your lap softly.
You weakly smiled at them and began to open your mouth to greet them however Yeosang cut you off.
“Shhh.. don’t talk to much pumpkin.. your voice sounds so hoarse… your throat must be very scratchy and painful hmm..?”
With a soft sigh you nodded.
“Okay then.. lets get some food in you okay? Can I feed you?” San asked
You made some gestures indicating that you could do it yourself however they weren’t having it.
“Let us take care of you. You’re extremely sick okay? Your pouting game will not work tonight honey.” Jongho said
Of course you were outnumbered so you just sighed and opened your mouth to let San feed you as the rest began preparing your medicine.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
Once your bowl of soup was almost empty, the front door was opened and the footsteps of the last two can be heard. Said two as quickly as they entered the house, quickly entered your room guilt, concern and sadness evident in their faces.
“Oh princess…” Mingi said as he walked closer
“Baby.. oh you finished your food, good girl. Medicine?” Hongjoong praised then asked with a pet to your head.
“Right here.” Seonghwa said as he gave you the medicine to drink.
Wordlessly you took the medicine and drank some of your tea.
“Okay.. good… How are you feeling now darling?” Hongjoong asks.
“..better..” you said as softly as you could so you wouldn’t harm your throat even more.
“Thats great love..” Mingi said.
Soon the last two that were missing from your bedroom entered again and were pleased to see you finished your food as well. Now all of your boyfriends were here and sitting somewhere in your bedroom.
“Sweetheart..” Seonghwa started as he sat beside you holding your hand. “Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling so well..? You’re so sick.. this must’ve been going on for a while… and none of us had a clue?”
You took a deep breath before carefully replying, being mindful of your throat. “We were so busy… I.. didn’t want to distract you… a-and I thought It’d get better on its own..”
“You still should’ve told us princess.. you know we would’ve taken some time off to help you get better… and you should’ve taken time off yourself.” Yunho chimed in.
“I didn’t think you could afford to spare some time… and my job needed me..” You pouted looking down playing with seonghwa’s fingers.
“Darling… you hurt us… do you not know we’d stop time for you if we could? You know we literally would do anything for you… We 100% would’ve figured out a way to make sure our work still gets done and be able to take care of you… like we always do. I’m sure you know that..” Mingi said.
You looked up at him to see nothing but sincerity in his eyes. As you looked around, you see sincerity in all their eyes.
“I do… I just.. I don’t know… I just really didn’t want to be a bother. I don’t want you guys to be more stressed than you already are and if I caused you guys to fall behind th-“ You were cut off by Wooyoung shushing you.
“Nope. No. You would never be the reason for that. We would never blame you and you know we would reprimand anyone who thinks that. Sweetheart. You’re our precious girlfriend… you would never be a bother to us.” Wooyoung said full of reassurance.
“Baby… We understand. You wanted us to do well and you were worried for us and wouldn’t want to add more stress or something. However like everyone here has said. You’re no burden. No trouble. And especially no bother. We love you and want you healthy and happy alright?” Hongjoong said as he stroked your hair.
You all looked at them and softly nodded. Heart filled with love and you give them a smile that they find so precious.
“Alright. Now please promise us you’ll tell us if you’re sick? Even if it’s just the tiniest cough or sneeze, you’ll still let us know? And yes we’ll promise to do the same.” Seonghwa asked.
“Promise. Now all of you cuddle me to sleep please?” You said with a pout and arms out.
Everyone then let out a soft chuckle and nodded.
With that, they got to work to cleaning up your dishes as San scooped you up and carried you to the master bedroom where that room is specifically for big cuddle sessions. and other stuff 👀
San tucked you in as he got in beside you. Soon enough loud footsteps can be heard as a couple of them (Wooyoung, Yunho, Mingi and Seonghwa) were racing to be on the other side of you. Which ended up going to Jongho as he slipped in while the others were still fighting by the door.
Eventually all of them got into a comfortable position.
“I love you all so much.” You mumbled softly into the darkness.
“We love you too our love.” Mingi said softly.
“Get some rest.” Said Yeosang.
“Tomorrow we’ll make you an even better soup!” Wooyoung then exclaimed loudly.
“Sleeeeppp!” Jongho groaned.
With that you all kinda giggled with each other a little bit longer than you would like. Making sleep not as easy but you all really wouldn’t have it any other way.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
© mimikittysblog 2024
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chososprettyprincess · 4 months ago
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» synopsis - ⟡⋆˙ choso who turns into a MESS once you start sucking on his sack.
» contents - ⟡⋆˙ choso being a pillow humper, oral (choso receiving), you both call each other baby, male masturbation, cock slapping, ball slapping/sucking/worship..? (idk!), dominant reader x sub!choso, CHOSO BEING A SWEETHEART.
» warnings - ⟡⋆˙ sexual themes.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⟡ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
choso who CANNOT control his boner especially when you are around.
you were in the kitchen finishing up the cupcakes for you and your boyfriend for movie night.
you went upset to go get him but yours ears are filled with this wet noise. shlick.. shlick.. shlick.. Being curious you walk in and are shocked by what you see.
choso laying on his back on the bed with his boxers on the ground. his plain white tee in his mouth while he holds a pillow humping his leaky, veiny, needy cock.
you gasp but aren’t disgusted by the sight as he looks up. “y/n… please, it won’t go down..” he pouted with those puppy-like eyes. “i tried a cold shower but it’s so.. nghh..” he moaned when his cock twitched a bit and a glob of pre-cum came out.
“baby.. i’ll help you, of course.. but please put the pillow down, those covers were expensive.” you said half serious and half teasingly as redness filled his face as he quickly did.
you laid down on your stomach as your soft, delicate hand wrapped around the base of his cock teasing him with your grip as his hips jerked up a bit. “oh… babyy..” he whined “don’t tease me please..” he said ss his hips involuntarily bucked up again.
you gave his tip kitten licks before taking him completely down your throat as he let out a deep, sensual moan. “it’s so warmmm.” he moaned and gently held your hair back as you gently massaged his twitchy, full and heavy balls as you DEVOURED his dick.
you pulled again and gave slaps to his cock as his eyes rolled back. “you’ve been such a good boy lately.. but going upstairs and trying to rub one out without me..?” you calmly stated as he frowned. “i didn’t want to bother you…” you rolled your eyes. “you never bother me baby.” you said continuing.
you paused and pulled away again. when a bit of drool dripped down from his cock onto his balls, even more pre-cum came out as he let out a shaky exhale. that gave you an idea.
you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked on it as his jaw went slack, drool pooling out his mouth. his cock as his cock twitched and moved back and forth by itself.
you showed attention to the other as pre-cum was leaking out of him like a fountain. it wasn’t surprising though, choso never really experienced certain pleasures. also, his balls looked painfully full of baby batter.
his eyes were crossed, his hips kept bucking up, his toes were curling so hard that they cracked as you continued slurping and sucking on his balls.
you trailed your hand up to his tip and gently rubbed it before he moaned before you pulled away from his balls then devoured his cock again, slurping and gagging as drool went down your chin.
“baby, baby, baby, ohmy-” he whined as he threw his hand back and just started babbling how well you treated him and how much he loves you.
you slapped his balls and he jerked his whole body as he climaxed hard into your mouth, his whole body trembling as his cum was warm, and bit bitter and so fucking much.
he pulled your head off him looking worried, “baby don’t swallow.. you don’t have to, spit it out” you shook your head as he just sighed as you swallowed it before licking the vein on his cock one more time.
he let out a loud whimper as the overstimulation hit him as his half lidded eyes crossed before he calmly picked you up with ease, switching positions with you. “my turn” he said laying his head between your thighs.
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ellabscrush · 9 months ago
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— play with my pussy, not my heart.
a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!
sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”
she caresses your face and pecked your lips.
nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.
i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?
“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.
“that’s my best girl.”
besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.
three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.
nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.
abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.
“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.
“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”
nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”
you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.
sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.
“fuck me..” you muttered.
“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.
you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.
“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.
three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.
abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”
“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.
“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’
you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.
“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”
you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.
she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.
“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.
“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled
abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”
“trying?” you looked up.
the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”
she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.
abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”
knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!
“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”
.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.
the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.
“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”
you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”
she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.
your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”
the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.
“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”
“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.
her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.
you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.
you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.
“faster,” you demanded.
she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.
“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”
“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”
abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.
the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.
maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?
“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.
“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.
abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.
you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.
“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”
abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.
“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”
her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.
“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”
“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.
an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.
“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.
“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”
“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.
you know how that goes..
once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.
“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”
abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.
“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.
of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.
well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
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vaaaaaiolet · 5 months ago
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You take it upon yourself to spice up your husband's work lunches at Rebecca's encouragement, and Leon nearly dies in the process. Is Hello Kitty really a killer? Leon, for one, is convinced she's up to no good.
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f / m, you're married to older leon!, crack treated seriously, fluff, slice of life, the dso is just one big happy family because i said so, bento boxes and happy ending but maybe not for chris (i still love my peanut buster king)
word count: 1.4k // read on ao3
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a/n: inspired by rrcherrypie's hello kitty bento box video that i watched religiously as a kid. this entire fic is a shitpost tbh LMAO this is my government mandated apology for a story where no one goes anywhere <3 go check it out if you haven't yet!
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Ever since his cop days, Leon’s learned that you can’t trust anyone whose hands aren’t in plain sight and well, Hello Kitty’s emblazoned face staring up at him from the kitchen counter doesn’t exactly have hands. Or arms.
Leon scrunches his nose at her and opts to wrap his own arms around your waist instead.
“Doll.”
“Hm?” 
Leon lines the side of your neck with kisses as carrot coins and cucumber slices fall serenely away at your knife. 
“Whatcha doin’?” he prods.
You neatly sweep the vegetables into the Hello Kitty bento box and give your attention-hungry husband a kiss to tide him over, but it’s not quite enough to satiate. Octopus sausages stare back at him with pointy sesame seed eyes, and Leon grows more unsettled by the minute.
He’s done playing nice; gives your hip a pinch. “Come on, you’re killing me here. What’s with all the arts and crafts?”
“Now, before you say anything,” your voice is soft and placating and giving him all the more reason to worry, "‘Becca came by to visit me the other day and said she really liked what I made you for lunch last week.”
“So this is for her?” Leon breathes a sigh of relief. He was starting to thin-
“No, this is for you, silly!”
And you laugh like it’s funny.
“I thought I should start putting in some more effort into your food. You’re away for work so often, and I don’t get to make you nice things as much as I want to.”
Leon chokes a little and looks back down at Hello Kitty’s gleaming metal face. “This is…what I’m taking to work?”
Your face falls. “What, you don’t like it?”
“No, doll, it looks delicious but…you really didn’t have to go all out. Your sandwiches are just fine. I don’t wanna give you the trouble, y’know?” 
“No trouble at all, baby,” you practically sing the words as you twirl to add your knife to a precarious tower of dishes in the sink, “you just say the word, and I can make you bento boxes every week.”
Every week?
You cup a soapy palm to Leon’s cheek as his gaze descends into a thousand-yard stare to rival Hello Kitty’s. “I think your friends might even be excited about your lunch now!”
Oh, absolutely. Chris was going to have a field day.
Chris completely loses his shit as predicted.
“Oh, Leon, it’s adorable,” Rebecca chimes in hopefully as Chris coughs into his fist, “you should have seen how excited she was when I gave her the box!”
The frustrated ceramic click of Leon’s teeth is somehow audible over Chris’ uncivilized howling. “So this was your idea?”
She gives him a sheepish chuckle.
“Rebecca, I thought we were friends,” he pleads as he picks up his metal fork. The team hovers over Leon’s shoulders like vultures to eye what his wife’s made him for lunch. 
To your credit, it’s a mealtime Michelangelo. There are Sanrio-themed rice balls of both the brown and white variety, vegetables neatly cut and festooned with animal picks, a beautifully folded omelet, and the ever omniscient octopus sausages. Hello Kitty’s metal face guards the entire hoard like a gargoyle. It’s enough to make Leon lose his lunch, but he’d have to have some first to cough it up.
He gives the octopus a tentative poke.
“Seriously, Leon, just man up and eat the damn thing.” Jill takes no nonsense as usual, plucking a carrot from the bed of lettuce and tossing it into her mouth. “Chris is just salty he’s having his fifth protein shake lunch of the week.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
It’s never quiet with those two around, but Rebecca gives him an encouraging smile as he gives the octopus a chew. It’s not bad, really. It’s just something about eating something with ey-
Rapid alarm beeps in the main compound snap the team’s attention away from the bento box affair and towards the map in the middle. Rebecca shoots off in her rolling chair to pull up what’s alerting the alarm system, and Hunnigan’s business voice projects into Leon’s earpiece.
“I hope you’ve had a satisfying lunch.” 
He wonders if Hunnigan ever eats as he shoves his bento box into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. 
She, however, is unconcerned. “You’re going to need the energy for the incident we’ve just gotten wind of downtown.”
The situation was supposed to be minor. There were rumors of King Tut’s Curse swirling amongst the museum staff after a rare shipment of Egyptian artifacts, but nobody had taken anything seriously until a janitor walked into the storage room and came back out more dead than alive. Things escalated after the infected janitor wandered into the World War II exhibit and bit the cleaning team there. The staff was horrified, the media was unhelpfully broadcasting the entire thing on live TV, and the DSO had blessedly quieted the whole thing down on that end before directing the case to Leon’s team as a classic T-virus takedown operation.
Easy as pie. Except the undead cleaning crew had gotten ahold of loaded World War II guns, you know, for historical accuracy. 
It’s a cinch for the most part to evacuate the visitors from the museum. Leon ushers terrified middle schoolers out of the exhibits as fast as he can while the rest of his team rounds up the infected, and it’s a routine sweep. He just feels bad for the kiddos.
“But what about the gift sho- AHH!! ” Leon whirls around to see an Infected point a knife bayonet into a terrified sixth-grader’s face. The zombie’s finger pulls back the trigger almost cinematically, and Leon’s not stupid. He’s going to be too late.
The gun fires.
It fires a round directly into his left shoulder as he shoves the kid to safety.
Leon collapses on the ground after shooting the zombie’s head to bits, but his shoulder aches something fierce. Oh God, not again, this time he hasn’t even got Ada to patch him up. He gingerly presses two fingers to the wound and pulls them away to inspect the warm spill of blood, but surprisingly, his fingers come away clean. 
Jill comes running up as he stumbles to his feet. The last of the Infected have been wiped out, she explains frantically, pulling out a roll of gauze, and everything’s secure, but suddenly she stops to peer at his spotless bullet wound.
So it’s not just him. There was definitely a shot, and his shoulder definitely hurts like a bitch. 
But where was the bullet?
You’re chewing your nails down to the quick when Leon walks into the living room later that evening. The quiet shuffle of his shoes falling onto the stand prompts you to smother in him a warm, bakery-scented hug and take him by surprise, but he squeezes you back as much as his shoulder allows.
You sniffle into his leather-clad chest. “I’m so sorry, baby, I just- I saw the news before they stopped the broadcast and I can’t believe they sent you to deal with the riot!”
So that’s what Hunnigan fed the press this time. Practical as always.
“I can’t believe I made you go to work with that stupid lunch,” you carry on, gasping as you spot the bandage peeking through his jacket, “you didn’t like it and you could have died, I’m never-”
“I’m alright, no biggie.” Leon kisses the top of your head, taking you by the arms and sitting you down next to him on the couch. You furiously wipe a tear off your face.
“It’s not alright, I’m never making you anything you don’t like ever again. That bento box is bad juju. I’m telling Rebecca never to buy anything from that shop from now on.”
Okay, so you finally admit the box is creepy. Leon bites back a laugh. 
“Woah, doll, not so fast. You think it’s the box’s fault I got hurt?”
“What else would it be? Today’s the first time you take it to work, and then you get shot on a regular patrol.” You frown as he pulls the Hello Kitty bento out from inside his jacket. “You brought that thing home?”
He chuckles. “Take a look at it. I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”
You squint at the tin and realize with a startle that a bullet round is lodged smack dab in the middle of Hello Kitty’s yellow nose. Like a goddamn bullseye.
The lunchbox had taken the brunt of the hit, leaving Leon unscathed.
“Incredible.” you breathe out. 
And he’s inclined to agree.
“So, doll,” Leon grins, “got any leftovers for tomorrow? Chris is a really big fan of the octopus things.”
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psst, find more of my work here!
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!
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thelostconsultant · 2 months ago
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Coffee addict
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: The coffee machine dies late at night. Max (and Daniel) comes to your rescue.
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“No, please, don’t do this to me.”
Max looked up when he heard your voice from the kitchen, and as he moved there to see what was happening, he heard your quiet pleads for something to start working. He couldn’t remember ever hearing you sound like this, so defeated and sad, and it made him wonder what was happening. And when his eyes fell on you as you wept next to the coffee machine, he had a bad feeling that it was related to your favorite item in that kitchen. 
Before he could ask you, though, you noticed him and immediately rushed over to where he was standing to wrap your arms around him, seeking comfort by burying your face into his chest. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked while his hand rubbed your back. 
“It doesn’t work. The screen went dark and I can’t make it work again. I tried everything,” you sobbed. 
Now, here’s the issue. You loved coffee. You were addicted to it. While he chose to drink a Red Bull to stay awake, you made yourself a nice, steaming cup of espresso from your favorite type of coffee beans several times a day. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but you were so happy as you sipped your favorite drink that he didn’t have the heart to stop you. Sometimes he managed to convince you to cheat, to drink a decaf coffee, and on days like this, you stuck to normal coffee in the morning and in the evening. 
He gently peeled you off of himself to take a look at the machine, but no matter what button he pressed, it didn’t do anything. With a sigh, he looked over at you. “I’m sorry for your loss.” You nodded as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Okay, it’s late, I’m sure I won’t reach a store to buy a new one, but how about going to that coffee shop around the corner? They must be open.”
You glance down at your phone that lies on the kitchen counter. “No, they closed half an hour ago,” you reply sadly. 
“Oh.” Max thought for a second, then raised a finger with a wide smile. “I have an idea. You stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said quickly before pressing a soft kiss on her lips. 
Once he’s sitting in his car with the engine running, he presses a few buttons on the touch screen to start a call. It rings a few times, then a familiar voice cheerfully greets him. “What do I owe the pleasure of getting a phone call so late?” he asked with a laugh. 
“Daniel, I need your coffee machine, I’m on my way to your place,” he states without hesitation. 
“My coffee machine? You know I use that, right?” 
“Not that one, the backup you kept after switching to the newer model. It’s an emergency, I’ll return it tomorrow once I buy a new one. Please?” he tried. There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, and this made him worry. “What is it?”
“I gave it away since then,” he replied. Max cursed under his breath, fighting the overwhelming need to hit the steering wheel. This was the best idea he had, and even this didn’t work out as planned. His friend let out a thoughtful hum that broke the silence, making him listen once again. “I have a big thermo mug, though. I can fill that for you,” he offered. 
Thanking both the universe and Daniel that there was a solution to the problem, he managed to calm down by the time he parked the car in front of the building the Aussie lived in. When he entered his apartment, he was welcomed with a sympathetic look. “The love of your life is suffering from withdrawal symptoms?” he asked, a barely noticeable smile visible on his lips. 
Nodding, Max followed him to the kitchen, then leaned against a counter with his arms folded over his chest. “She’s quite literally grieving right now. She was crying when it didn’t turn on,” he explained. 
Daniel poured each cup into the mug, but he listened to the story of the broken machine, sometimes coming up with suggestions. He even questioned if it was even plugged in, an idea that made the Dutchman groan. “Yes, I did check if it was plugged in. It was, yet it doesn’t work. I’ll go and buy a new one tomorrow, and I’m genuinely thinking about buying a simpler backup machine.”
Fifteen minutes later he entered his apartment, calling out for you immediately. You padded over to him with a questioning look, and when your eyes fell on the mug, your gaze full of hope and happiness moved over to his face. He nodded with a smile and handed it to you, but you chose to hug him instead. 
“You’re my hero. I love you so much,” you mumbled into his chest. 
He kissed your head, then moved back to once again offer you the mug. “I love you too. Now, drink before it turns cold. And tomorrow morning I’ll go to that coffee shop to get you a cup, okay?”
As you took the precious item from him, you let out a thoughtful hum. “We could have breakfast there,” you suggested. 
“Anything you want. Now, I’m getting into the sim rig for that race. Don’t stay up too late,” he warned you kindly before giving you another kiss.
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