#and they just. stopped getting any better

[beloveds-embrace]

will take quite anything you’ve got from the designationless au bc holy shit is it giving me brainworms in the best way possible

<333

The first few weeks with the 141 were… strange. Moreso for them, truthfully.

Not bad- just strange.

You could tell they weren’t sure what to make of you at first.

They were used to reading each other without words- the shift of a scent, the pull of an instinct, the push and pull of social cues as natural as breathing. But you were an anomaly. No scent to catch onto, no designation to categorize you, no instincts that guided your actions.

You could feel it in the way they watched you. Not with suspicion, but with an unspoken wariness, as if they were trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces. Honestly, it was still much better than the way a lot of other units treated you.

John was the first to adjust. He treated you no differently than any other soldier nor did he single you out, though there was a quiet sort of patience in the way he spoke to you, as if giving you space to find your place. You caught him watching you sometimes, thoughtful, assessing- but whatever thoughts he had, he never voiced them, and you didn’t feel like he was thinking badly of you.

Ghost… was harder to read. He was distant but you could feel the hesitance in the way he kept a careful distance at first, as if unsure how to act around you. He wasn’t standoffish, just… cautious. It took a while before his posture around you eased, before he stopped looking like he was waiting for something from you that would never come.

Soap tested it the first week by standing too close, brushing your arm as he leaned over to look at your tablet, waiting for any possible reaction.

Nothing.

No subconscious shift in posture, no inhaling of his scent, no reaction at all. You only glanced at him for a moment before turning back to your screen, as if you hadn’t even noticed he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

He blinked. “You always this quiet?”

You didn’t look up. “You always this chatty?”

Soap, again, was also the first to push past it. “Y’know, it’s a bit unfair,” he teased one evening, nudging you with his elbow as he sat down beside you. You knew the reet of the team could hear since they were also around. “Cannae scent when you’re in a mood. Gotta actually ask how you’re feelin’ like a proper conversation.”

You had huffed a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing. ���Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Guess so,” he agreed so easily you were left blinking at him in open surprise. “Gotta say, makes you good at poker. Cannae bluff with your scent.”

Gaz had been the one to struggle the most. Not because he didn’t like you, but because, as an omega, scent and instincts were so deeply ingrained in how he interacted with the world. He was tactile, expressive, used to weaving himself into the unit with ease. But with you-

With you, there was nothing to weave into.

You weren’t rejecting him, but you weren’t responding the way he expected either. No subtle scent shifts, no automatic lean into comfort, no instinctual give and take. Just… you.

Gaz made the mistake of offering his jacket one evening when the air grew cold. You accepted it with a nod, but when he sat beside you, waiting for that quiet inhale- the subtle, unconscious gesture of taking in a packmate’s scent- he realized it wasn’t coming.

“You don’t… smell people, do you?” he asked, half-joking.

You glanced at him, brow slightly furrowed, and shook your head. “Not really.”

The weight of it settled between them.

Another time, he tried to offer comfort- a hand on your shoulder, a scent meant to soothe- and got nothing in return, he had hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do.

You had seen the flash of confusion on his face, the way he had almost pulled back.

So you had done the only thing you could. You reached up and patted his hand, offering a small smile. “I don’t really… get it. But I don’t mind.”

Gaz had studied you for a moment, then exhaled a quiet laugh. “Alright,” he had murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze before letting go. “We’ll figure it out.”

And they did.

It took time, but eventually, they stopped hesitating.

John still gave orders with the same confidence, Ghost stopped treating you like an unknown variable, and Soap- well, he was always himself.

Gaz, despite everything, still fussed.

It wasn’t the same as what he did with the others- there was no instinctual scenting, no designation-motivated soothing. But he still checked in, still sat beside you during downtime, still pestered you when he thought you were overworking yourself.

You were different. They didn’t fully understand it, but it didn’t matter because by then?

You were one of them.

[goldfades]

crazy cat people───joe burrow⁹

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧�� | 4.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe had always been cat people—dogs were just too high maintenance, too needy. but you were never in a hurry to get cats until one night, joe finds a cat on a roadie and decides to bring her home.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | literally nothing but cat dad joe, and dog slander (JK!! not really, but we all know joe likes cats better). inspired by this clip.

The thing about Joe is that he’s always been a cat person.

You figured it out on your second date when the conversation somehow derailed into a passionate debate about why people automatically assume dogs are superior. It started off as a joke—some exaggerated takes for the sake of banter—but then Joe hit you with a well-structured argument about the independent nature of cats, their low-maintenance lifestyle, and the way they choose their people rather than blindly loving everyone.

“You ever seen a cat follow some random stranger home just ‘cause they waved at it? No. That’s some dog behavior.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “No self-respect.”

That was the moment you knew he was the one.

Well, not actually, but it definitely solidified your interest. Three years later, the two of you were still going strong, bound together by an undeniable connection, a deep understanding of each other’s quirks, and a shared stance that dogs—while undeniably adorable—were just a little too much. Too excitable. Too dependent. Too… needy.

“We’d be cat people,” you had declared one night while curled up on the couch together, his arm draped lazily around you. “Like, if we were to get a pet.”

Joe hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, but I feel like we’d be picky about it. Can’t just have any cat. Gotta be one with personality.”

“A little bit of an asshole,” you added.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

Despite countless conversations about what you’d name your hypothetical future cat (the list had ranged from elegant, sophisticated names like Theodora to complete chaos like Little Shit), you never actually got one. Between Joe’s insane schedule and your own busy life, it never felt like the right time. You weren’t the type to impulsively adopt an animal just because it seemed like a cute idea—you took responsibility seriously. Joe was the same way.

But that didn’t stop you from sending him TikToks of cats daily. And it definitely didn’t stop him from pausing the TV anytime a cat appeared in a commercial, just to point and go, “That one’s kinda cool.”

It was just one of those things. A little inside joke, a shared fantasy, a part of your relationship that existed in theory but had yet to materialize.

Until Joe came back from a road trip with something unexpected.

Something small. And furry. And wrapped in the hoodie he had worn on the plane.

A cat.

He met your wide-eyed stare with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, funny story…”

--

It was one of those quiet, in-between days where everything felt a little dull without Joe around. You were used to it by now—his road trips, the stretches of time where you had to keep yourself entertained—but no matter how well you adjusted, the house always felt bigger when he wasn’t in it.

You filled the day the best way you knew how. Running errands, grabbing coffee from the spot down the street, making small talk with the barista who always remembered your order. You spent an unreasonable amount of time in Target, browsing the aisles aimlessly, tossing things into your cart that you definitely didn’t need but convinced yourself were essentials.

A candle? Necessary. A new throw blanket even though you already had five? An investment. A little ceramic dish shaped like a cat’s face? Joe would think it was funny.

By the time you got home, the sun was beginning to set, casting the living room in soft golden light. You went through your usual routine—changing into something comfier, throwing your hair up, and scrolling through your phone while curled up on the couch.

Joe had texted you earlier to say his flight landed on time, but you weren’t sure when he’d actually walk through the door. Traveling always took it out of him, and sometimes he lingered at the facility longer than necessary, just to settle back into the routine of being home.

So when you heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking, you perked up, setting your phone down.

Joe was home.

You stood, stretching a little before padding over to greet him—only to immediately freeze in place.

Because Joe Burrow, your extremely predictable, routine-driven boyfriend, was standing in the doorway holding a cat.

Not a cat carrier. Not a box from the pet store with a new cat inside. No, he was physically holding a cat in his arms, cradling it like some kind of newborn wrapped in the oversized hoodie he had worn on the plane.

“Uh…” You blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. “Joe?”

Joe, looking far too casual for someone who had just walked into your shared home with a whole animal, shot you a sheepish grin.

“So, funny story…” He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the tiny creature, who—shockingly—seemed completely unbothered.

You didn’t say anything. You just stared. Because what the hell were you supposed to say?

Joe cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. “I found him at a gas station. In, like… the middle of nowhere.”

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Yeah. Just… chilling. No collar, no tags, nothing.” He looked down at the cat, then back at you, as if that explanation was supposed to justify the fact that he had apparently just kidnapped an animal. “He walked right up to me. Super chill. Thought, you know, maybe he needed a home.”

“You—” You ran a hand down your face, processing. “So you just… took him?”

Joe shrugged, completely unbothered. “No one stopped me.”

You stared at him, then at the cat, then back at him.

The cat—a small, scrappy-looking thing with fluffy black fur and bright green eyes—gave the smallest little stretch before curling back up into the fabric of Joe’s hoodie, as if this was the most natural situation in the world.

A sigh left your lips, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You stole a cat.”

Joe scoffed. “I didn’t steal him. I rescued him.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you check to see if he belonged to anyone?”

Joe paused. “I mean… he was alone.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Well, no one else was around,” Joe defended. “It was late. Freezing cold. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

You crossed your arms, arching a brow. “So your solution was to bring him home?”

Joe, completely unrepentant, grinned. “Yeah. He’s cool, right?”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temples before shaking your head.

This man.

This six-foot-four NFL quarterback who spent three years claiming you guys would be extremely selective about what kind of cat you got, had apparently abandoned all standards the second a gas station stray blinked at him.

And worse? You were already kind of attached.

Because the damn cat was still curled up in his hoodie, looking completely at peace, like he had already decided he belonged here.

You sighed, waving them both inside. “I can’t believe you.”

Joe grinned, stepping past you and into the house, clearly taking that as a win.

“Should we name him?” he asked, already making himself comfortable on the couch, cat still in tow.

You groaned.

“Oh my God.”

The first night with Miss Honey felt strangely natural, like she had always belonged here. Apparently, you guys had been misgendering her the whole time.

After the initial shock of Joe casually waltzing into your home with a stray cat, the two of you got to work making sure she was okay. A quick check revealed she was mostly healthy—just a little underweight and carrying a few ticks, which you carefully removed while Joe held her still, murmuring soft reassurances. Despite being a random cat from a gas station, she was surprisingly chill about it, blinking up at you with those big green eyes like she already trusted you.

“This is insane,” you had muttered, brushing your fingers through her soft fur.

Joe, stretched out on the couch beside you, smirked. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You rolled your eyes because, of course, he was right.

That night, the three of you curled up on the couch and put on Matilda, your mutual comfort movie. Joe made popcorn, you pulled out the throw blanket you had impulse-bought earlier that day, and Miss Honey—named after the warm, soft-spoken teacher you both adored—made herself right at home between you, paws tucked neatly beneath her little body.

“She’s purring,” Joe whispered at one point, as if he was afraid saying it too loud would make her stop.

You had just smiled, gently scratching behind her ears. “Yeah. I think she likes us.”

It took less than twenty-four hours for Miss Honey to fully take over the house.

By the next morning, she had already established herself as a permanent fixture, weaving between your legs as you made coffee, hopping onto the couch like she owned the place, and—much to Joe’s delight—curling up on his chest while he lounged around watching film.

“She’s got good taste,” he mused, running a slow hand down her back.

You, sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting through your Target bags from yesterday, shot him a look. “You mean ‘cause she likes you?”

Joe grinned, glancing down at the cat who was currently making biscuits against his hoodie. “I mean, can you blame her?”

You snorted. “Unreal.”

Still, you had to admit—Miss Honey really did love Joe.

At first, you thought it was just convenience. He ran warm, he was still for long periods of time, and his heartbeat was steady enough to lull anyone to sleep. But over the next few days, it became clear that her attachment went deeper than that.

She followed him from room to room, her tiny paws padding against the hardwood whenever he moved. If Joe was at the kitchen counter making breakfast, Miss Honey was right there beside him, tail flicking lazily. If he was tying his shoes by the door, she sat next to him, watching intently like she had somewhere to be, too.

It was ridiculous.

“She’s obsessed with you,” you pointed out one night, arms crossed as you watched her bat playfully at the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Joe grinned, scratching under her chin. “Yeah, but don’t be jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest.

Because, truthfully, you loved it.

You loved that she trusted him. Loved that this cat—who had spent who-knows-how-long fending for herself—had chosen you both, nestled herself into the space between you like she had been there forever.

It didn’t take long for Miss Honey to establish a routine.

Every morning, without fail, she woke Joe up first. Not you—Joe.

You learned this the hard way when you woke up one morning to a quiet, disgruntled “Jesus,” followed by the sound of Joe shifting beside you. Blinking blearily, you turned over, only to find Miss Honey perched delicately on his chest, staring down at him like she was assessing whether or not it was time for him to get up.

“Babe,” Joe whispered, voice still thick with sleep. “Your cat is harassing me.”

You stifled a laugh, rubbing your eyes. “She’s your cat too.”

“Yeah, well, tell her to chill.”

Miss Honey, completely ignoring his complaints, took that exact moment to lean down and press her tiny nose against his, like a little wake-up kiss.

You melted on the spot.

Joe groaned, but even half-asleep, he couldn’t hide his smile.

From then on, it became a thing. Every morning, she woke Joe up first, then trotted to the kitchen like a little queen expecting breakfast. She had a schedule, and she stuck to it.

By the end of the second week, she had also taken over bedtime.

One night, you were finishing up in the bathroom when Joe called out from the bedroom, amusement lacing his voice.

“You’re getting replaced.”

You stepped into the room, brows furrowed. “What?”

Joe tilted his head toward the bed, where Miss Honey was curled up on his pillow, perfectly nestled into the space where your head usually went.

You crossed your arms. “Unreal.”

Joe smirked, patting the mattress beside him. “Sorry, babe. She called dibs.”

You shook your head, sliding into bed anyway, and—because Miss Honey was the most spoiled creature on the planet—you let her stay.

She purred contently between you, tucked snugly between your bodies, and Joe reached out, running a slow hand down her back before catching your gaze.

“I think she was meant to be ours,” he murmured, voice soft in the dark.

Your heart swelled.

Because he was right.

At first, Miss Honey had been a little more drawn to Joe. It wasn’t anything personal—she liked you just fine—but there was something about him that had her stuck to him like glue. Maybe it was his warmth, or the steady way he carried himself, or the fact that he had been the one to scoop her up from the cold and bring her home.

But after a couple of weeks, things started shifting.

It wasn’t sudden. There was no grand moment of realization where she decided, Actually, I love you too. It was slower than that—small moments that gradually built into something solid, something certain.

It was the way she started lingering in the kitchen while you made breakfast, winding around your ankles, soft fur brushing against your bare legs as she meowed up at you like she was part of the conversation.

It was how she started climbing onto your lap while you were reading, kneading her tiny paws into your stomach before curling up and purring herself to sleep, like you were something safe.

It was how she started following you into the bathroom whenever you did your skincare at night, sitting neatly by the sink and watching you with lazy, half-lidded eyes, as if she was deeply invested in your routine.

She was still Joe’s shadow, but you had become hers.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

“She likes you now,” Joe teased one night, watching as Miss Honey happily stretched out on your chest, perfectly content.

You smirked, scratching under her chin. “She always liked me.”

“Nah,” he mused, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “She tolerated you. Big difference.”

You gasped dramatically. “How dare you?”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Hey, it’s a compliment. You won her over.”

And you had.

Miss Honey wasn’t just a cat anymore. She was your cat. An irreplaceable little presence in the house.

Joe, naturally, leaned into it full force.

It started with the essentials.

A bed. A few toys. Some high-quality cat food that Joe meticulously researched before purchasing. He wasn’t about to give her just anything—he wanted the best, reading reviews like he was about to draft a new teammate.

You had laughed the first time you caught him looking up “best cat food brands for digestion” on his phone.

“Joe, she was literally eating bugs two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, and now she’s got standards,” he shot back, tapping on a link. “This one’s got good ingredients.”

And that was just the beginning.

Before long, Joe was going all out—buying her the best litter (something natural and odor-free, because only the best for our girl), a selection of premium treats (“That Temptations crap is all filler,” he had said, with so much conviction you almost cried laughing), and multiple collars in different colors and patterns.

One morning, you caught him kneeling by the front door, carefully adjusting the tiny blue velvet collar around Miss Honey’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, leaning against the doorway, watching as he straightened the little golden name tag.

Joe glanced up, grinning. “She looks good though, right?”

You had to admit—she did.

But the real turning point? The sweaters.

That was unexpected.

It had started as a joke—one lazy evening, the two of you scrolling through Etsy, looking at cat accessories for fun.

“Wouldn’t she look cute in this?” you had said, showing Joe a tiny, knitted sweater in a soft cream color.

Joe snorted. “No way she’d wear that.”

Turns out, she would. And she’d like it.

The first time you slipped a tiny sweater over her head, Miss Honey barely reacted—just gave a big stretch, turned in a circle, and promptly plopped down on Joe’s lap like nothing was different.

Joe, stunned, just blinked.

“You’re telling me she’s okay with this?”

“She’s thriving,” you corrected, grinning.

And from that moment on, Joe took it as a personal mission to build her wardrobe.

Over the next week, more sweaters arrived in the mail—different colors, different materials, even a tiny hoodie with ears.

“This is getting out of hand,” you commented as Joe unboxed yet another package.

He held up a tiny lavender sweater, inspecting the material. “It’s for layering.”

You stared at him. “Joe, she’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked. “A stylish one.”

Miss Honey, stretched out on the couch, gave a slow blink, completely unbothered by the chaos she had brought into your lives.

And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Three months in, and neither of you could remember what life was like before Miss Honey.

It wasn’t just that she had settled into your home—she had settled into you, woven herself into the rhythm of your days so seamlessly that the idea of waking up without her little body curled between you or coming home to a silent house felt… wrong.

Mornings were different now.

Gone were the days of lazy, drawn-out wake-ups—Miss Honey made sure of that. If Joe’s alarm didn’t get him up, her tiny little paws kneading into his chest certainly did. And if he dared try to roll over and ignore her? She’d take matters into her own hands.

Or, more accurately, her own whiskers.

One morning, you caught her using her best tactic yet—pressing her nose right against Joe’s, whiskers tickling his face until he groaned and finally peeled one eye open.

“You are the most spoiled creature on the planet,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

Miss Honey responded by immediately rubbing her face against his chin, purring like a little engine.

Joe exhaled a laugh, eyes still heavy as he let his fingers trail through her fur. “Unreal.”

Meanwhile, your mornings had changed in a different way.

You used to make coffee alone, sipping it in peaceful solitude before starting your day. Now? You had company.

Miss Honey had claimed her spot on the counter—perched delicately by the coffee machine, watching your every move like an executive overseeing production.

“Supervising?” you’d ask her, sprinkling cinnamon into your cup.

She’d blink, tail flicking lazily.

Joe, walking into the kitchen at just the right moment, would snort. “She’s your little manager.”

And it was true—Miss Honey was involved in everything.

She had a routine. A life. A set of unspoken rules that ran the house.

If one of you was on the couch? She was there too, curled up in the crook of your leg or sprawled across Joe’s chest. If you were cooking? She was on the floor, watching you with silent judgment, like a tiny food critic.

If Joe was watching game film, she’d climb onto his lap and stare at the screen, like she had some real thoughts about the Bengals' offense.

She had her little preferences, too. She didn’t care for loud noises but loved when Joe played music on his speakers. She always sat with you while you read, always meowed when she wanted attention, and—for some reason—seemed particularly obsessed with Joe’s socks.

“She’s weird,” Joe said one night, watching as she enthusiastically dragged one of his socks across the living room like it was her prized possession.

“You brought home a gas station cat,” you reminded him. “What did you expect?”

Joe exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he reached down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s perfect.”

And she was.

She had changed things in the smallest, most meaningful ways.

The house didn’t feel empty when Joe was away anymore—not when you had her little paws padding around, her soft purrs filling the silence. Even on the loneliest days, she made it better, curling into you like she just knew.

And Joe—he had changed, too.

If he had been a cat person before, he was fully in his Cat Dad era now.

It had started subtly. The good food, the high-quality litter, the little sweaters he kept ordering. But at some point, it escalated.

Joe started carrying her around the house, tucking her into his hoodie when he was watching film, talking to her like she was an actual human being.

“Alright, Miss Honey,” he said one afternoon, kneeling in front of her as she lounged lazily on her little cat bed. “We got options. You wanna wear the blue sweater or the gray one today?”

You, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed, stared at him. “Joe.”

He looked up, completely unashamed. “She likes choices.”

“She’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked, holding up the tiny sweaters. “A stylish one.”

And then there was the Ja’Marr conversation.

One night, after practice, Ja’Marr had made a casual joke—something about how “one cat turns into five real quick,” laughing at the idea of Joe slowly becoming that guy.

You had laughed too, shaking your head. “No way. We’re a one-cat household.”

Joe had nodded in agreement, completely confident. “Yeah, no shot.”

But then… a week later, he changed his tune.

You were curled up together on the couch, Miss Honey stretched between you, when Joe sighed, absentmindedly running his fingers down her back.

“She’s kinda lonely,” he mused.

You blinked. “What?”

Joe glanced over, tilting his head toward Miss Honey, who was currently kneading her little paws into his thigh. “I mean, she’s got us, but, like… I bet she’d like a friend.”

You stared at him, narrowing your eyes. “Joe.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, tone easy, like he wasn’t suggesting something huge. “She’s got so much energy. I think she’d like a buddy.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

Joe grinned. “Just think about it.”

And just like that, the conversation had started. And you had been so firm about it. Absolutely not. No second cat.

Miss Honey was thriving—happy, healthy, and fully attached to both of you. The idea of bringing another cat into the house felt risky. What if she didn’t like it? What if she got territorial? What if she felt betrayed?

Joe, of course, had started planting the idea like a damn politician.

“I just think she gets bored sometimes,” he would say casually while Miss Honey chased her own tail in the living room.

“She’s got a lot of love to give,” he mused one night, watching her rub up against every single one of your ankles like she was making the rounds.

“She needs a little sidekick,” he argued as she sprawled out dramatically on the kitchen floor, meowing at nothing in particular.

You shot him down every time.

Until, of course, fate decided to step in.

It was a random Saturday, and you and Joe were out running errands—nothing special, just a casual grocery run. You had been debating what kind of bread to get (Joe insisted the multigrain one tasted just as good as white bread, which was a blatant lie), when something caught his eye.

“Babe,” Joe said, suddenly abandoning the cart and heading toward the entrance. “Look.”

You turned, frowning as you followed his gaze.

Right outside the store, under a big white tent, was a cat rescue group—volunteers standing beside crates filled with tiny, curious faces.

A pet adoption event.

Joe immediately turned to you, eyes lighting up. “This is a sign.”

“No, it’s not,” you argued, grabbing the cart. “It’s just Saturday.”

“It’s a sign.”

You groaned as he practically dragged you toward the tent, already grinning like he had just won the lottery.

And then you saw them.

The kittens.

Tiny, wiggly little things with big eyes and oversized paws, rolling around in their blankets or climbing the sides of their enclosures with impressive determination.

You told yourself you were just looking.

Joe was crouched down almost immediately, eyes scanning the different crates as the volunteers smiled at him.

“You guys looking to adopt?” one of them asked.

Joe grinned. “Maybe.”

You shot him a glare. “We are not looking to—”

And then you saw her.

A tiny gray tabby, tucked in the corner of her crate, nibbling sleepily at her own paw. Big round eyes, the softest little face, and an expression that screamed, Yeah, I know I’m cute.

You inhaled sharply.

“Oh no,” Joe murmured, catching the look on your face.

You glanced at him, then back at the kitten.

“… I wanna hold her.”

Joe grinned. “Knew it.”

The second the volunteer placed the kitten in your hands, you were done for. She was so small, her little body barely bigger than your palm. She meowed—tiny and sweet—before immediately nuzzling into the crook of your neck, purring like she had just found home.

Joe, watching intently, exhaled a laugh. “Oh yeah. We’re done for.”

That night, you walked into your house as a two-cat household.

Miss Honey was not immediately sold.

The introduction process was slow—gentle, cautious. You followed all the steps, kept them separated at first, let them get used to each other’s scent. But, much to your surprise, Miss Honey didn’t react with any real aggression.

Mostly? She just seemed deeply confused.

The first time she saw the kitten, she just stared, tail flicking, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Joe, crouched beside her, grinned. “You got a little sister, Honey.”

Miss Honey turned her head, fixing him with a look.

You laughed. “I don’t think she asked for one.”

Still, within a few days, things started shifting.

The kitten—who you decided to name Fig—was relentless in her pursuit of Miss Honey’s love.

She followed her everywhere, mimicked her every move, and—on more than one occasion—attempted to curl up against her, only to be met with a single, unimpressed flick of the tail.

But then, one morning, you woke up to find them curled up together on the couch—Miss Honey’s paw resting protectively over Fig’s tiny little body.

Joe, standing beside you, smirked. “Told you she needed a buddy.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt full.

And that’s how you and Joe became crazy cat people.

[withlovemark]

“how to make a girl cum?”

synopsis -> mark lee. 25 years old. too busy with his career. has only ever touched a girl once in his life and he’s not even sure it counts considering she didn’t cum and he lasted 7 seconds. all he knows is his hand and what he watches from porn. you’re absolutely tired of seeing your loser of a best friend, who’s supposed to be this hot sexy idol, fumble every girl he comes in contact with because of his fear of sexual acts…so you decide to help him out.

warnings: fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), praising kink if you squint

—

“how are things with belle?,” you ask mark! who is seated right next to you on the black couch in the middle of the practice room. the two of you alone in this room full of mirrors.

“oh dude, i ended things with her,” he says nonchalantly.

“what!? why? weren’t you just telling me last week how she was perfect?,”

“exactly! it was getting too serious, she touched my thigh and i was like okay, yeah, we’re done,”

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

au: whew! well that’s that >.< genuinely….what do i need to do in life to make sure this happens to me and mark ?????????

[ennabear]

was trying to take a nap but i can’t stop thinking about this so have a horny half asleep blurb about loser!sevika <3333 18+

“oh, shit.” she groans on top of you, holding the dildo in her hands as she angles it into you, the tip already wet as it pushes into your hole. you look up at her as she trembles in excitement, horniness, and most of all, anxiety. her eyes are fixed on her strap-on and your cunt, big, beautiful eyes already glossy from pleasure. she could cum just from this.

“you’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” she asks timidly, holding your hips as tightly as possible in her hands. you nod at this, and her human palm sweats and shakes until you grab it tightly in yours, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“you got it, sev. keep going.”

she glances down at you, deep brown lips sagging from the weight of her signature pout. you smile at her, big and goofy, and take her face in your unoccupied hand. an annoyed wince follows your pinches to her cheek, but she sighs and laughs it off, focusing on the task at hand.

“okay…” she whispers. “okay, ready?”

you giggle. “sev, i’ve been ready. you’re not gonna hurt me.”

at this, she pushes into you more. slowly but surely. and soon enough, she’s bottomed out, eyes big and jaw hanging open at the sight beneath her. not a single centimeter of the dildo is visible, just your thighs squishing against hers. a sight she could never get sick of. she sucks in a gasp when you lightly smack her ass, but chuckles awkwardly when she realizes that you aren’t in any pain.

experimentally, she slides out of you, then snaps her hips back in. you shiver, legs opening impossibly wider, back melting into the bed.

“like that?” she asks.

“yeah, sevi. just like that.” you reassure her. god, if only she wasn’t so damn nervous. and oh, so adorable.

so she does it again, pulling out, pushing in, pulling out, pushing in. her rhythm isn’t quite there, but the pleasure is. she hits your sweet spots so deeply, and your heart is so full, you don’t care that she’s not exactly… good at this.

not yet, at least, but neither of you mind the practice.

she moans every time every time she thrusts into you. it starts out breathy and light, but the more she does it, the louder she gets. you doubt that she’s even aware of the sounds she’s making, but you hope she doesn’t realize— she’ll get embarrassed and stop.

her hand releases itself from your grip, drenched in sweat although you wouldn’t have it any other way. her hard grip on your hip returns, and she leans over you to get a better angle. your tits are practically touching, and her hair tickles your face and neck. you plant a few firm kisses on her cheeks, then her nose, then a sweet, long one on her lips, muffling the sounds of her moans and whimpers.

“fuck, i’m so in love with you.” she groans. “can’t believe i didn’t do this sooner.”

you laugh at her, wrapping your arms around her. “it’s okay, we have all the time in the world. no rush.” she chuckles at herself, then her breathy chuckles turn into light moans, and then she’s full on moaning right into your ear.

“am i doing good?” she asks. pace quickening as she rocks her hips into yours.

“yeah, babe. i’m so close.” you whine, gulping loudly.

“really?” she asks, almost like she doesn’t believe you.

“yeah, really.” you laugh, butterflies tickling your gut. “keep going like that.”

“fuck, fuck. okay, oh, janna.” she moans, burying her face in your neck. you think for a moment that she might be in pain, maybe tired, out of breath, or her phantom pains biting at her nonexistent arm. but these moans are different. deeper, heavier, like she’s enjoying it.

her breath tickles your neck as you tip over the edge, holding her as tight as possible as your eyes roll back into your head and you bite your lip a little too harshly. when you come down from your high, gasping for air and giggling at your girlfriend, you almost think you’re imagining the tears rolling down her cheeks. you coo at her and kiss them away, until all that’s left is a giggly, sweaty pile of limbs tangled together.

“do you want me to pull out?” she asks.

“whenever you’re ready.” you answer. “as long as i get to make you cum after this.”

“uhh…” she starts, then loses her words. “you already… did.”

“what do you mean, baby? i haven’t had my mouth or hands on you all night.”

“no, no, not like that.” she says, rushing the words out. “i mean… i did. while i was fucking you… maybe more than once.”

although you feel a bit evil for this, you cackle loudly at her. she rolls her eyes and sinks into you even more, hiding her face in your neck shyly. “don’t laugh at me.” she grumbles. “you’re the worst.”

“no, it’s not bad, sev. it’s cute. and i think we should do this more often.”

she sighs into your shoulder, raising her hand up and pointing her middle finger straight to the sky. you gasp and giggle harder, then swat it away as she tries to wrestle against you.

“okay, enough.” you call, before she can start the wrestling match. “let’s go pee and then i’ll make us a snack.”

she kisses your forehead and huffs a breath, trying not to think about the fact that she’s still inside of you, and that she may or may not be able to feel you clenching around her. “okay, i love you.”

“love you too, sevibaby.”

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended | part two of this

fratboy! gojo who meets up with you after getting your contact info the other night, laptop prepared to explain the important of card trading.

fratboy! gojo who, for once, finds it fun to converse with someone other than his small circle of friends. he can't deny the fact he finds you cute when you get confused- not like he'll tell anyone. (more under cut!)

fratboy! gojo whose friends are starting to notice that he isn't partying as much as he did before, but instead, actually attending his classes. to say that they were surprised is an understatement.

fratboy! gojo who walks with you during breaks only to hear you talk, whether it be about pokémon or whatever. with you, he can escape the frat-party life and settle down into a mellow, drunk-free personality. sure he can do that with his friends, but it comes naturally when with you.

fratboy! gojo who sets up chill hangouts when he realizes you aren't as interested in loud environments as him. from walks in the parks, a 1-hour pottery session, or cafe hopping around town- you find yourself enjoying every second of it.

fratboy! gojo who introduces you to his friends, embarrassed when they mention how he'd turn off dnd just to check if you replied. you laugh, comparing him to a clingy dog (which he is) and he feels himself dying even more.

fratboy! gojo who decides that he wants to properly confess his feelings for you during the night of valentines. take you out like normal and bring out the gift he prepared in his trunk. simple, right?

fratboy! gojo who couldn't stop cheesing anytime you looked away, yet acting flustered whenever you noticed. in his mind, he was the greatest at hiding his emotions- but you knew right away that something was up. considering how he asked to match with you, on valentines day.

fratboy! gojo who brings you to a secluded part of the beach where you could see the stars clearly, and has to calm himself down before making a fool out of himself (like he hasn't already).

fratboy! gojo who starts off by bringing up the first day you met, chuckling at how he found quietude in the midst of a party.

fratboy! gojo who takes your hands in his so gently, smiling at how well yours molded together. with one hand holding yours, he reaches into the back of his car and brings out the small basket he made.

fratboy! gojo who filled the basket up with your favorite snacks, a box of high-quality trading cards, a bracelet, and most importantly, a multipage, hand-crafted letter. stuck onto the back, was a candid polaroid he took of you the first time you hung out. aka, the day he realized he loved you.

fratboy! gojo who stumbles across his words, unable to properly convey the script he had in mind. his worry took over him when you didn't respond to anything he said.

fratboy! gojo who pauses after hearing your laugh, and looks up to see the same eyes he fell in love with staring right at him with such adoration. you're smiling. and soon, he finds himself smiling even harder.

fratboy! gojo who has to stop himself from cheering when you formally accept his confession. going as far as to exit out the car to give you the warmest embrace. melting in your arms, he finally has all the reason to kiss you on the cheek.

boyfriend! gojo who slowly retires from the party-life (and possibly playboy), and while still remaining in his frat- he'd very much rather spend his nights with you in his arms.

restful and content, satoru couldn't have asked for a better way to meet you.

a/n: for that one person who wanted it to be platonic... im sorry [sweat]... NEXT TIME! i really want to write "intimacy with platonic!gojo" or any other jjk character. also ignore how i portrayed gojo as a playboy (kind of) in the first part, i lowk forgot abt that when writing pt 2

taglist (only tagged those that asked) @ourfinalisation @cheriiepies @megumisthirdog @leabyjulia @blessingdancing @seternic @gojoscumslut @backinmyphase @cutieminaaa @wandabillywrites @shycreatorreview @bypanana @ilovemyhusbandnanami @l1v1ngzomb1e @raendarkfaerie @hellogojofan @exclusiverinaa @just-lilita @satorushousewife @jaeminaur @mjsjshhd @kaybug88 @minascasket @sapphireillusions @ravenbc @psoycy @juicus

[seasprincess]

Rosie’s gif fics

MDNI ☆Spencer Reid x Wife!reader

Warnings: smut, dom!Spencer, dirty talk, pet names, short

Spencer’s hand a trail up and down your sides. Grabbing your hips as he moves his. Thrusting into yours making all kinds of noises a man of his intelligence shouldn’t be making. He is down bad for you. Has been ever since the first day you walked into the room all those years ago and laughed at his stupid joke.

He had gone away with work again to catch some bad guy while you had to stay home waiting for him to come back. Some nights it was hard, missing waking up with him next to you. So when Spencer comes home he is sure to make up for his disappearance.

“Feel good sweetheart?” He says before placing a gentle kiss on your neck, his ‘beard’ tickling you slightly. Lips hovering above it before he groans. His thrusting in and out of you feeling so good he doesn’t want to ever stop.

You nod quickly before letting out a moan, looking into the eyes of the man you call your husband. His necklace that you had bought him as a gift that he will never not be wearing is gently hitting your chin.

Spencer’s hand comes up to your ribs as he brings his face closer to yours. Lips above yours before he tilts his head to kiss your lips. His thrusts don’t stop nor slow as he moves his hand to grip your cheek.

He pulls his lips off yours to let out a groan, eyes closing. He loves this, he loves you. God he loves you.

“I’m close baby. You gonna cum with me?” He says which earns a whine and a nod from you. Too blissed out to reply verbally.

Spencer just smirks, gripping your chin tighter as he kisses you again.

“I can feel you tightening around me sweetheart.” Spencer’s words make you moan again. Sometimes the words that come out of that man’s mouth shocks you. You can’t believe this is the same man who once would get all flustered by a kiss on the cheek. He’s definitely changed, his jobs changed.

You love him any way he is. Cause deep down he’s still that nerdy boy who pushed his glasses up his nose every couple minutes.

“I’m gonna cum.” You finally speak up after being practically non verbal for the past five minutes. Your hand grips the man’s bicep as his fingers trail down your body. Going to the place that he knows is going to drive you insane.

His fingers reach your clit, slowly rubbing circles as he smiles against your lips in a teasing manner. He knows how to turn you into a moaning mess in his hands. Took him a couple of years to learn it. But he knows it now. You showed him when you first started dating how too. And he’s just got better with time, perfecting it.

His free hand is placed in yours. Interlocking your fingers. Making this experience more intimate.

“Cum on my cock baby.” Spencer places another kiss softly to your lips. His sweet kiss is completely different to the way he’s thrusting into you. Showing his two personalities in this moment.

With his words you don’t hold back and release. The noises that come out of your mouth are pornographic. Filling the room as you look up him who releases shortly after you. Not wanting to wait any longer.

He helps you ride it out with him before pulling out and laying on his back. Panting that matches yours as he looks up at the ceiling.

Both of you lay there silently for a couple minutes. Just lingering in the events that had just happened. You’re so happened back.

Your hand lands on his chest before slowly moving down further. Spencer chuckles before grabbing your wrist.

Let’s just say that wasn’t the only round of the night.

a/n: i love me a spicy Spencer. not proof read either bbys

[yok00k]

pensándote

pairing: yandere!bf!jk x reader

genre: angst, smut

summary: your boyfriend is getting more and more possessive and it's starting to affect your relationship. however, he's willing to change for the better. or you thought so.

warnings: MATURE- shower sex(rough), videotaping, jk hits it from the back, oc called jk 'daddy', ass smacking, cheeks were getting clapped, mentioned lots of sex positions, oc got slutted out, jk is lowkey/highkey toxic, sick, and unhealthy, toxic relationship, attachment issues, argument, jk is a stalker w ill behavior/action, [still in denial], open ending[there might be a next part, depending on how rough life could be], not proof read bc writing this is a silly little hobby

word count: 1,611

a/n: ho i’m back and better than ever!!! note that english is not my first language and I write for funsies>..< (this ff is inspired by rauw's pensandote) — to those who knows a lot of reggaeton bangers plz hmu for recs thx

-Llevo to' el día pensándote

“baby wait up” he calmly pleaded, trying to catch up to you. still, you continue to ignore him.

It was about to be 3 a.m. when you and you boyfriend arrived to your apartment from a girls’ night. you and your homegirls planned to have a night out to have let some loose and have fun, lots of drinks and men hitting on you being involved of course. living the city night life has been the part of your lifestyle. however it doesn’t play a huge part of your life anymore. barely anymore since you’ve established a romantic relationship with jeongguk– your suitor for six months. 

you and jeongguk had the same psychology class last year. oftentimes in that class, you’re either too tired from work or still have a hangover from the party the night before. same parties he goes to just so he can see a glimpse of you from afar, trying his best to see the best view of the entire party while trying to manage being lowkey. 

fortunately, jeongguk, who’s sitting next to you in class and also can’t help but to shift his undivided attention to how you’re struggling in some works in class. as a straight A-student and a gentleman, he frequently lends you his notes and offers you help. why? because for some  strange reason, he cares for you. 

well maybe the care is turning into an obsession. but jeongguk keeps telling himself that he’s being harmless. he simply wants to know.  he’s seen you always go out with your close friends, never with any man. on the days you’re not partying, you pick up extra shifts at a nearby coffee shop. how did he know? luck. just happened to stumble upon the shop one day. he swears it’s all coincidence. 

or at least he hopes so. 

you started to see him so often. at your work, parties, gym, or at the grocery store. again and again that you began to think that this might be destiny. each time you see him, he’s always by himself. minding his own business (or make an effort to seem like it). and it made you a little curious. how come this man doesn’t have any hoe or friends around? you frankly thought ‘maybe just his lifestyle’. one day he finally gets out of his comfort zone and asks you if you would be interested to get to know him. obviously, you’d like to know who he truly is. right?

fast forward after courting you for six months, here you are. coming home from a party with him following behind you. 

you would think that he’s going to stop. it’s unexpected and extreme for what he’s about to do next. 

and there he is, both knees on the ground. his large palms reaching for your cold hands. kneeling before you like a desperate man he is.  He knew exactly what he'd done. “please, let’s fix this”

he used to be fun. less controlling. less obsessive. less possessive. 

“oh now you wanna acknowledge the problem?” you scoffed, finding his sudden behavior ridiculous. “fix what problem? you constantly getting overly possessive and manipulative or you just randomly showing up at the party while me and my friends are in the middle of having fun? for fuck sake Jeongguk, let me fucking breathe for once.” 

you’re beyond frustrated. the upcoming finals have been stressing the shit out of you and all you need is some space to relieve stress. 

“baby, you know I’m just making sure that you’re saf–” he starts off with the excuse he always says, but you’re too quick to call him out. “following me to make sure I’m safe? you’re suffocating me.”

he has no response. he knows it’s true. he’s aware of his excessive actions. no, more like impulses. a thing he can’t control. an itch.  jeongguk can’t seem to fight these urges when he knows that there’s lots of men out there that actively hit on you. and he’s terrified, scared that they’ll steal you from his possession as if you’re his favorite toy to ever acquire. 

“I think we should just end this. it’s becoming toxic.” you stuttered under your breath, gasping a handful of your hair as you shifted your gaze on the side. ‘he’s becoming toxic’ is what you really want to say. 

“I.. I will stop. I will change. let me prove to you that I love you and I only want what’s best for you” he cries, tears slowly rolling on his porcelain face. 

“do you still have trust in me?” 

you wanted to shake your head, say no. 

tragically, your answer is yes. but the real question is will he change for the better? 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jeongguk is a man of his words and kept his promise.  it had been a couple months after that night and you began to notice the changes in his actions. a huge change. 

your boyfriend stops controlling you in a variety of ways. every time you let him know that you’ve got somewhere to go, all he asks for is your assurance that you’re safe and sound. as long as you’re having the best time, he’ll fully support you to whatever it is. 

some nights that you have to study and do homework, he’d restrain himself  from spamming your inbox. he understood that you have priorities and you’ll get back to him as soon as you can. and you did.

lastly, he recently became more consistent on going to the gym. it makes you extremely happy that he’s investing more time to better himself. physically and mentally. redirecting his focus onto something that’s actually more healthy for him.

 or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

so far, so good. you feel secure that everything is working well. your relationship is doing good. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

—"Tú desnuda, yo dándote"

“k-koo, right there baby” you begged as he continued to drill his thick cock into you from the back. slow and deep. and oh, raw.  “don’t stop, please.” the lewd sound of your ass clapping against his pelvis echoes in the steamy bathroom. all being captured by your cell phone held by his shaky left hand.

 video taping moments like this helps jeongguk cope with his unhealthy behaviors. whenever he feels a tiny bit of jealousy running through his veins, all he has to do is watch these videos to remind himself of what he has. 

you, in whatever nastiest positions he puts you in: doggy, backshots, against the wall, cowgirl, missionary, etc. this r-rated file collection you’ve got on your phone reminds him of the chokehold he’s got you in. yes, it’s all saved on your phone, but it’s not like he doesn’t have access through your apps and social accounts, let alone your camera roll. you’re all his. no one else’s. his. solely his. furthermore, he’ll make sure that he can guarantee himself so. 

perhaps you don’t need to smoke in order to feel like you’re in heaven right now. going for the 3rd round, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you. 

supposedly was a quick shower right after the gym session you had with him turned into a long and enjoyable one. 

“yeah? you love getting fuck like this, huh?” his cockiness is on top of the roof, he looks down to watch his veiny shaft disappear inside your pussy just for it to come out and back. he’s got the bestest view. not even a phone camera with flash on can justify that. he then props the camera on top of the toilet, leaning against the wall as it still catches both of your filthy actions. 

seeing how much you enjoy this position– bent down in the nearest sink, one hand gripping onto his wrist while the other clutches on the ceramic white sink. the whimpers coming from your skilful mouth can alone make him bust a nut. 

when he receives no reply, the hand that helps you to stay in place snakes its way to your hair, collecting a fistful before tugging it back.  

“answer, slut” he snapped, demanding an answer from you whilst he proceeds to thrusts in and out. with your eyes rolled back, you’re barely processing what he wants from you. unable to even utter a single proper syllable from how ecstatic he’s making you feel. Indeed, you love being treated like a slut. 

in and out. in and out. in and–

smack 

 a sudden sharp pang on your ass cheek, causing you to moan loudly.  “c’mon my love, you’re still with me. right?” he asks, increasing his pace faster. rougher. 

“hmm y-yea, love the way you feeel” you desperately murmured, still clouded by the glorious dick he’s giving you. 

“m-more,” a single word from you is all that your man needs to hear to continue drilling onto you. rough yet with love. 

“almost there,  daddy” your breath hitches, still struggling to speak.  on the other hand, your words made the man pounding into you even crazier than he already is. he began to notice the signs that you’re about to reach your peak as your walls desperately clenched around him. 

he abruptly comes to a stop. pulls out completely from you, resulting in you to release a whine. 

jeongguk manhandles your fragile body, turning your body to face him. he pats the side of your thigh, insisting you to jump and wrap your  legs around his waist.

“want you to look me in the eyes when you come.” he orders, slowly penetrating into you once again, while being face-to-face with you at the same time. 

 just like his destructive actions filled with obsession, he’s not stopping anytime soon,

is he?

<want to read more? : my m.list>

[hellsquills]

Something about the "don't come back until you've made millions" and Ford's resentment.

There's no way Stan could actually make millions by himself. Ford knows this, because it's, well... obvious. The way he sees it, their father kicked Stan so he'd learn to "get it together" and fend for himself.

What Ford fails to understand (and will not understand until they're sailing together) is that 1. Filbrick wasn't teaching Stan any lesson, he simply wanted to get rid of a child he didn't deem worthy of his family; and 2. Stan DID take the "making millions" part literally.

So Ford goes on with his life telling himself that Stan will be fine, because this warning is enough for him to get it together and grow up. He's charming, he's resourceful, he's good with people. He'll find a job in no time. He might not get rich, but he'll finally become an adult and stop acting like a selfish kid. Maybe he'll even reflect on what he did and will finally stop making excuses. He'll apologize, and maybe then Ford will forgive him.

So when Stan shows up at his cabin all dirty and unkempt, Ford is decidedly disappointed: his brother didn't even bother trying bettering himself! And now that he has the chance of doing something good, he's still being selfish!

Meanwhile, Stan, who's given up on "making millions" and is just trying to survive with his guilt and the decisions he made to try and make it up to his family, is furious. Ford knew from the start that Stan would never make it, and yet he sided with their dad! And he didn't even fucking miss him!

Something about the many layers of miscommunication and misunderstanding these two had between them. It wasn't just "you were being selfish/you betrayed me/you left me". Things are never that simple.

Also I want to kick Filbrick with a steel chair.

[bumblebeerror]

People hurt other people by accident all the time. That’s something I very much had to learn when I realized my OCD obsession with not hurting anyone had reached a completely unsustainable level - to the point that I was hurting people with it.

Some people do know that they’re causing harm to someone and revel in it, I won’t deny that happens. Regardless of their reasons for that, it’s wrong. But I also think it’s fairly rare, and it’s why abusers are so hard to get away from.

My mom’s been dating an alcoholic for years who’s been told over and over that when he gets drunk he gets mean, that he says hurtful things. He’s yelled in my face. He’s treated me like a child. He tried to fight my little brother. He’s yelled at her, he’s begged thousands of dollars out of him, he’s guilt-tripped her and openly said he doesn’t want to change.

But he’s also loving. He’s good with his grandkids. He takes care of his daughters even when one of their husbands threatened to shoot him dead. He’s not a bad person, when he’s sober.

Hes an alcoholic because he has chronic pancreatitis. Because booze kills the pain better than his norcos. His illness is only barely under control because he doesn’t take meds because he won’t change anything. He thinks he doesn’t need them because he’s bipolar.

When he was on all his meds and taking his bipolar meds and he was sober, he was a decent man.

Are some of his problems his own fault? Sure. But I don’t think any of it makes him an irredeemable monster. It makes him a victim to the consequences of his own actions. It makes him someone I’ve been trying to get my mom away from, too. Consequences of his actions, people don’t want to be around him while he’s drunk.

He still abused my mom. It’s hard to see it that way, because I know most of it isn’t done with real intent. It took years for me to convince her to stop giving him money. It took years to convince her to stop answering his calls when he’s drunk.

He’s an abuser. But he’s not evil. He just doesn’t see the patterns and doesn’t want to.

otherwise interesting post ruined by the bold insistence that you can never accidentally abuse someone & that all abusive people are self-aware evil masterminds

[sunseed-fandump]

Jailhouse Rock

The kids make a new (and very questionable) friend.

AU: Bad Batch Word Count: 3,281

Well, it was official, this was the most awkward moment of Gingerbrave’s life.

The jail cell was a cramped little thing, definitely not something built with the idea of containing more than one prisoner, just like the jailhouse itself didn’t seem to be built with that many criminals in mind, as there was only one cell. He supposed it made sense that a small town in the middle of the desert wouldn’t expect too many criminals stopping by, let alone having the misfortune of all of them being caught at the same time. Yet here they were.

It wasn’t like they had wanted to get caught. This was actually one of the few times they had bothered to keep a low profile. They had stopped into town for supplies on their trip down the Pilgrim’s Path, and figured it would be best for their long journey to conserve their energy. Just get in, grab the stuff, toss the money on the counter, get out. Simple.

Then things got decidedly less simple when a couple of bounty hunters recognized the kids from their wanted posters. (When did those get printed? They looked so cool! Gingerbrave hoped he got to take one home to put up on his bedroom wall.) The scuffle resulted in a lot of property damage, Wizard getting a minor concussion, and all three kids getting hit with tranquilizer darts. Who the hell carries those around? Well, those guys, apparently.

An hour later found the trio waking up disoriented, disarmed, and awaiting transfer to the nearest Kingdom for processing. Oh, and they had a cellmate. A cellmate who seemingly hated their guts if the way she scowled at them from the other side of the tiny cell was any indication.

Resulting in the awkward stare-down that was currently happening. On his right, Wild Strawberry seemingly lost interest and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on her hood. Meanwhile to his left, Wizard had begun muttering something to himself. (A quick glance to the clock on the wall beyond the bars told Gingerbrave they probably had about an hour or two before Wizard started going off the deep-end due to withdrawal from his stupid staff. Gingerbrave couldn’t stand that parasite…)

Luckily, since he was undead, Gingerbrave didn’t have to blink, which meant he could literally stare at this weird angry lady all day if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So, uh…” He scratched at the stitches on his neck. “What are you in for?”

The cookie’s scowl deepened. She was a spicy cookie if the red hair and strong scent was any indication. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had a scar on her forehead. She was dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped outfit one typically associated with criminals. Gingerbrave wondered, when the sheriff came back, if they would be expected to get changed into something similar.

At the cookie’s lack of a response and neither of his friends lending him a hand, Gingerbrave decided to keep talking.

“Right. Anyway, I’m Gingerbrave, and these are my friends Wizard and Wild Strawberry—“ He was cut off by the other cookie’s very clipped response.

“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. It seemed that was all she felt like saying though as any attempt to talk to her earned the boy the cold shoulder.

Gingerbrave eventually figured she was a lost cause, and judging by Wizard starting to rock back and forth from where he was seated, he was beginning to head into the first stages. So it was time to get going.

“Alright, we’re gonna leave now.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before getting up from his seat and heading over to the front of the cell. He pressed his face up against the bars to get a better view of the hallway. He could just barely make out the sheriff’s office at the end of the hall. No doubt, that’s probably where their stuff was. Judging by how quiet it was, the sheriff was still out doing whatever it was that sheriffs did, which meant Gingerbrave had to be quick.

The boy tested the bars. Solid as a rock and he had neglected to bring any of his stronger arms with him. Unfortunate, but he’d have to work with it.

“Hey, Wizard,” Gingerbrave looked over to the shorter boy, who seemed to briefly snap out of whatever daze he had slipped into. “If I can get you your staff, could you get us out of here?”

“Yes!” He replied way too quickly, before shaking his head and rubbing at his temples. The migraine must have been setting in. “Yes, get me my staff and I can teleport us.”

“Sounds like a plan!” And without any hesitation Gingerbrave grabbed at his forearm just under the stitches on his left elbow, and snapped it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” The spicy cookie jumped back, clearly startled; all the color had drained from her face in an instant. All the kids laughed a little at her expense. (Even Strawberry, with a barely restrained ‘pfft!’)

“It’s fine! See?” The severed hand waved at her like nothing was wrong. “Watch this!” He gently set it down to the floor where, with a bit of awkward finagling he got it balanced on its fingers like a spider. He walked his hand out of the cell, slipping it between the bars, and all the cookies watched as it scuttled down the hall towards the office. Gingerbrave scrunched up his face in concentration, leaning the stub of his left arm out of the cell as far as it could go to help keep his hand within range. His spirit could stretch pretty far, but not forever, and he wanted to make sure he had full reign of the office.

Okay, that felt like the office chair. There’s the desk. He poked around a little to the right and hit a wall so maybe if he…

“Does that hurt…?” The spicy cookie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts briefly and the boy looked over his shoulder at her. Huh, that usually wasn’t the first reaction he got when severing his parts in front of new cookies. Usually it was fear, panic, and accusations of being a dough-eating monster, but this cookie’s initial surprise had melted into an emotion Gingerbrave wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Nah, they were made to come off.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before turning his attention back to feeling around the distant room. What was that? A bookshelf? Maybe he should try a few paces to the left.

The spicy cookie gave him an assessing look before turning her attention to the other two, specifically Wizard who was looking a little more harrowed than usual. “Yo, shortstack, you good?”

Gingerbrave snorted at the nickname. Oh! That felt like a chest! Maybe their stuff was in there but… it was locked. Rats. Then again, maybe the staff couldn’t fit? Probably best to be thorough.

“I’ll be fine once Gingerbrave gets my staff back.” Wizard said with a harrumph and a mutter of “I’m not short…”

“What’s the hold up? Any longer and Wizard is gonna start getting all freaky.” Strawberry asked, to which Gingerbrave huffed.

“I’m trying!! This would’ve been a lot easier if I was awake when we were brought in. Wizard, tell your stupid staff to be less stupid—!”

‘BANG!’

A screech ripped itself out of Gingerbrave when pain shot through his hand. He flung himself back from the bars, hitting the opposite wall and clutching at his stubby arm as if it would stop the pain. He heard a few exclamations of surprise from the cookies around him along with a horrified scream from down the hall followed by two more gunshots that (thankfully) missed their mark.

The sheriff was back and he just shot Gingerbrave in the hand.

His hand scuttled wildly around the office, blindly bumping into everything in an attempt to get to some kind of cover. Wild Strawberry had gotten up and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“He shot me…!” Gingerbrave bit out between clenched teeth just as a few more shots rang out, one of them glancing the boy’s dough.

“Screw this.” The spicy cookie flung herself at the cell door and after a few moments it popped open…

Wait, what?

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!” Strawberry voiced what Gingerbrave was in too much pain to say.

“Shut up and move!” Replied the other cookie who sprung out of the cell and down the hall. Wizard was right on her heels, no doubt seeing the opportunity to get his staff and not at all caring about the actively shooting lawman. Wild Strawberry called out to him, cursed under her breath when she was ignored, then grabbed Gingerbrave and hauled him out of the cell to give chase.

They arrived just in time to watch the spicy cookie deliver a round-house kick to the sheriff’s face, sending him flying back and hitting his head on the corner of the bookshelf, knocking him out cold.

“How could a cookie that moves so slow become sheriff? Can’t believe I let myself get caught by this moron…” she tsked and checked his pockets.

“There you are!” Wizard exclaimed happily before flinging himself at his staff that was propped up in an umbrella stand for some weird reason. He scooped it up into his hands, the tension practically melted from his body as he felt the staff’s familiar magic settle once more within his dough. “That fool didn’t shoot you, did he…? No?” He sighed in relief.

Gingerbrave looked at the scene with a small frown, but held his tongue. Instead he focused on trying to find his hand. He experimentally tapped his fingers against the nearest hard surface and cringed at the pain blossoming from his fresh wounds.

Wild Strawberry Cookie got down on her knees and checked under the desk when she heard tapping, sure enough, there was Gingerbrave’s hand with a bullet wound in it. “Got it.” She pulled it out and held it up for her friend to take, who cradled it close to his chest. “I’ll get the extra icing stitches from my backpack and we can stitch everything up.”

“No time.” Wild Strawberry jumped when her backpack and lollipop were shoved into her arms by the spicy cookie. She had picked the sheriff’s pockets clean, gotten the keys to the chest in the corner, and cleaned that out too. She strapped a belt around her waste and clipped two daggers to her side. “All that ruckus is gonna have the whole town coming down on top of us. Pointy hat, if you got magic I suggest you start using it!”

“My name is Wizard–!” The small boy’s correction was cut off by the glass of the window shattering in front of him.

“GET DOWN!” She grabbed Gingerbrave and Strawberry and pulled them behind the desk. Wizard, who had been a bit further away, joined them shortly after just as a hail of bullets poured in through both windows and the open front door. “Unless you wanna have more holes than swiss cheese then I suggest you get us out of here!!”

Wizard growled, but instead of snapping at her, he focused on the vocal components of a well-practiced spell. A magic circle appeared beneath the group of cookies and in a flash they were gone. One moment they were hiding under a desk, the next they were on top of a bluff overlooking the town. The gunshots, once deafening, were nothing but an echo on the rocks at this distance.

The spicy cookie stumbled, not used to the sensation of being teleported around, caught herself, and then let out a huge ‘WOO!’

“Wow! What a day!” She exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it…” Wild Strawberry muttered as she dug into her backpack and pulled out the icing stitches. “Yo, Gingerbrave, let’s get your arm back on.”

“Y-Yeah…” The other boy hissed, allowing himself to be guided over to a rock and took a seat.

“That was some nice quick-casting there, pointy hat!” The spicy cookie went to pat Wizard on the back, but paused. “Oh, right, I’m supposed to be mad at you guys…” She pondered this for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh and then patting him anyway. “Ah, but it’s hard to stay mad after such a fun jailbreak! Definitely one of my favorite ones yet!”

“Who even are you?” Wizard Cookie turned on her, giving her an absolutely baffled look as he adjusted his hat.

“And, uh, why are you mad at us?” Gingerbrave called over, trying to remain as still as possible while Strawberry worked. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to being scorned by most, if not all, of Crispia, but this strange cookie’s anger seemed rather out of left field. The spicy cookie reared back, as if offended by this line of questioning.

“You mean you guys don’t recognize me?! Seriously? And here I thought you were supposed to be big shots…” She reached into her pocket and produced a rolled up piece of paper which was quickly revealed to be a wanted poster that she unraveled with a proud flourish. “The name’s Chili Pepper Cookie and I’m the best thief in the world! There’s nothing on Earthbread I can’t steal.”

“Whoa! Look at that bounty!” Gingerbrave gasped at the sight of all the zeroes. “But… Uh… What does that have to do with being mad at us?”

“Because!” She rolled the paper back up and jabbed a finger at the trio. “Your collective bounties are higher than MINE! How am I supposed to go down in history if I’m being outclassed by a bunch of twerps?!”

Wizard Cookie sputtered indignantly at this revelation. Wild Strawberry stared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Gingerbrave, however, burst into laughter.

“That’s what all of this was about!?” He cackled a few moments, clutching his aching gut, before settling down and saying breathily, “You’re a weird cookie. I like you!”

“If you want our bounties, you can have them! They’re what got us into trouble in the first place!” Wizard huffed.

Chili Pepper tilted her head, fixing them with a weird look. “Wait, you mean to tell me you aren’t in this for the infamy? Guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around the usual haunts rubbing your status in everyone's faces. You’re totally out of the loop!” She brightened, as if this revelation was both a massive relief and a big joke at the same time.

“Yeah we’re… not really interested in whatever weird crime competition this is.” Wild Strawberry Cookie shook her head as she finished up Gingerbrave’s stitches and stashed the spool into her bag. “If anything those bounties make reaching our goal harder…”

Chili Pepper Cookie looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “What could a group of kids like you want so badly you land bounties that put you in the criminal elite?”

“We’re going to steal the Soul Jam to free the world!” Gingerbrave proudly announced, jumping to his feet, he was already feeling a lot better now that his wounds were stitched up.

“A world without judgement!” Wizard added with a nod.

“And lawlessness…” Wild Strawberry muttered.

Chili Pepper Cookie gave the three children a thoughtful expression, putting a hand to her chin with a little ‘huh…’ before shooting a wide grin at the kids. “Well, I’m not sure about half of that, but I can definitely get behind the stealing and lawlessness parts! Are those Soul Jam things shiny?”

“They are incredibly powerful magical artifacts that have the capability of changing the world as we know it!” Wizard rattled off. When Chili Pepper gave him a blank look, he sighed and said, “And they’re shiny, yes.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gingerbrave cut in with a wide smile. “Chili Pepper Cookie, why don’t you come with us?” He got a mixed reaction of surprise and confusion from the cookies around him. Wizard Cookie and Wild Strawberry Cookie knew that Gingerbrave didn’t just extend offers like this to just anyone. He might have been the more chipper and outgoing of their group, but he didn’t trust others so easily. He must have really liked something Chili Pepper did or said to even think about such a proposal.

“You want me to come with you? Why?” Chili Pepper was just as confused as Gingerbrave’s friends. She couldn’t imagine them wanting her around after she gave them the silent treatment back in the jail cell.

“You seem fun.” Was Gingerbrave’s simple reply. “You helped us get out of that jail cell when you really didn’t have to. Plus, if you travel with us, I’m sure your bounty will sky rocket! And we could use the world’s greatest thief on our team!”

Chili Pepper Cookie seriously considered his proposal for a minute. When she had first heard about them and their rapid climbing of the leaderboard, she had thought they were nothing but a bunch of punk kids who wanted to be rowdy and cause trouble. Now she could see though, they had bigger plans than just topping the charts of the Underworld. She could appreciate such a large ambition.

Besides they didn’t seem to be jamthirsty monsters like all the rumors said they were. They were just… weird. The criminal underworld had plenty of downright monstrous folks who Chili Pepper tried not to associate with, but she could tell, these kids didn’t seem heartless. Mischievous, yes. Troubled? Absolutely. But not heartless.

“You know what?” Chili Pepper grinned. “I’ll think about it. But for right now, I got a job I need to finish.”

“A job?” Wild Strawberry asked just as Chili Pepper turned to walk towards the cliff that overlooked the town.

“Yeah? Do you think the greatest thief in the world would screw up and get arrested in a nothing town like this?” She gestured to the settlement below. “I let myself get caught! The train they were gonna put us on has a massive safe full of gems. I was gonna bust out of my cuffs mid-transfer and clean it out! But now I guess I gotta do it the good old fashioned way…”

Gingerbrave once again laughed, giving Chili Pepper a sharp grin. “Well, if you decide you wanna join up, head to the Bear Jelly Village in the Land of Little Big Dreams! There’s a cookie there who’ll point you in the right direction.” With that he raised a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Chili Pepper Cookie!”

Chili Pepper gave the kids a mock salute. “See you around, stitches! Make sure you stay out of any more jail cells, punks!” With that she jumped over the side as nimble as an acrobat, and out of sight.

“Well, that was certainly… interesting.” Wizard sighed, before clutching his stomach. “But we failed to get any supplies, and teleporting us this far has made me famished…”

“Right… I forgot about that…” Gingerbrave’s brow furrowed. Should they try heading back into town and risking getting arrested again? Did they push forward and hoped they reach the next town before they starved? He didn’t really know much about hunting or foraging, but he doubted they’d be able to sustain themselves with much in this sugar-free wasteland.

“Hey, look!” Wild Strawberry pointed further up the main road where the kids could see a huge cloud of dust being kicked up. “I think that’s a caravan.”

All three kids stared at it for a long moment.

“Welp!” Gingerbrave clapped his hands together. “Fellas, it’s time to commit robbery!”

“YEAH!!” Strawberry and Wizard raised their respective weapons into the air, excited at the prospect of getting some food in their stomachs. With that, the trio ran off to intercept those travelers.

From the bottom of the cliff, Chili Pepper watched the kids disappear. She lingered for a moment, deep in thought…

‘CHOO CHOOOOOOO!’

The thief turned on her heel and raced towards the tracks. Their paths would cross again someday, but for now, she has a train to catch.

[v4mpire45]

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

This is a series, so other parts are right here!

☞ Link: Part 1, Part 3, Part 4.

Bakugo x Jealous female reader

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

You shove your food around your plate as Kimiko talks about Bakugo. All the girls from Class 2-A are gathered at the lunch table, a meeting orchestrated by Kimiko herself to continue plotting ways to get closer to him.

But instead of actual planning, it's just been Bakugo this, Bakugo that.

Seriously, how much could one girl be this obsessed with him? He’s not that great.

Sure, he’s strong, ambitious, intelligent, self-assured, has a cool quirk, and an insane work ethic, but he’s just a boy. The same Katsuki you've known since childhood. The one who used to steal your snacks, push you into puddles, and wipe his snot on your sleeve. He’s seriously not as cool as she’s making him out to be.

Kimiko’s face flushes as she gushes about him, and there it is again, that same twisted feeling in your gut. You furrow your brows subtly, huffing under your breath.

"Y/N?"

Ochaco’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah?" You rub the back of your neck, trying to shake off the building irritation.

"Kimiko asked you a question."

You blink, glancing at Kimiko, who looks at you expectantly.

"Oh, uh… sorry. What was that?"

Kimiko leans forward eagerly. "Remember what I asked on Sunday? Did you manage to get any info on how to get closer to him?"

You swallow hard. "Oh, uh… not really."

Kimiko frowns. "None? You didn’t talk to him like I asked?"

"No, no! I did. He just didn’t say much. Y’know how he is…" You chuckle awkwardly. Truth is, you hadn't asked, and you didn't plan to.

"Well, did you at least figure out his type?" She leans in further, eyes wide with curiosity.

You freeze. "Uh, not really… he doesn’t talk about that stuff with me."

Kimiko tilts her head, looking mildly frustrated. "What do you mean? You two are like best friends!"

"Calm down, Kimiko. I’m sure Y/N has a reasonable explanation," Yaoyorozu says gently, pulling Kimiko back into her seat.

You clear your throat, scrambling for an excuse. "Right, um… well, me and Bakugo just don’t talk about crushes or relationships, y’know?"

"Right, ‘cause you’re both losers," Mina teases, earning a round of giggles.

You roll your eyes. "Something like that. You’d probably have better luck asking Kirishima." Anything to get out of this conversation.

Kimiko immediately shakes her head. "No way! Kirishima can’t keep a secret to save his life."

"True," all six girls say in unison.

You shrug. "Sorry?" You return to poking at your food, hoping they drop it.

The conversation shifts back to their matchmaking schemes, but before you can stop yourself, the words slip out of your mouth.

"Why do you like him? He’s just Bakugo."

Silence.

All eyes snap to you.

You internally panic. Crap.

"I—I mean, what do you find so great about him? Just curious, y’know… hehe…" You force out a nervous laugh, attempting to backtrack.

Kimiko lights up, her blush deepening. "Oh, don’t get me started!"

And just like that, she’s off again, gushing about how strong and passionate and amazing he is.

You suppress an eye twitch.

"Don’t you think you could do better?" The words slip out before you can stop them.

Mina nudges you playfully. "Jeez, Y/N, no need to lay it on so thick!"

You force a smile. "Sorry, sorry… I just feel like maybe… Sero is more your type?"

Kimiko pauses, blinking. "Sero?" She turns slightly, glancing over at Bakugo’s table, where Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero are eating.

She hums in thought. "I mean… he’s not bad, but he’s not Bakugo."

You exhale sharply. Figures.

"You sound a tad jealous, Y/N. You alright?" Jirou teases, smirking.

Your body goes into overdrive.

"Me?! Like Bakugo? That’s CRAZY!"

You slap the table, bursting into a fit of overly dramatic laughter. Heads turn from other tables, your friends exchanging confused glances.

Jirou blinks. "I was just joking… I know you don’t like him."

You force yourself to calm down, waving a hand. "Oh, uh, right. Silly me."

The conversation shifts again, but you can feel Mina’s eyes on you, suspicion clear on her face.

You force your usual smile, hoping to throw her off.

It seems to work, for now.

In the corner of your eye, you spot Bakugo sitting with Kirishima and the others. His crimson gaze meets yours across the cafeteria, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

Then, in typical Bakugo fashion, he gives you a slight nod.

You nod back, turning quickly to stare at your plate.

Dammit.

What the hell were you going to do?

© 2025 v4mpire45 — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

Tags: @pet1t3

[sepdet]

As an older liberal, this makes grim sense to me. I have been bracing for a nasty few decades ever since it was predicted near the turn of the millennium that within the next thirty years or so, whites would become a minority in the US, outnumbered by Latinos and other immigrants. (I pass as white, fwiw.)

The consensus among many of us who could read the writing on the wall was, "Shit, this is going to get ugly."

Not because we have any truck with a diverse society with better restaurants, but because we knew this meant voter suppression, gerry-mandering, racist backlash like that seen in the past against various minorities, and worse.

Even knowing that, it's been distressing watching it play out.

A significant number of white people are terrified of being treated as they treat minorities. They are fighting to stop that from happening.

Their three-pronged strategy is to enforce minority rule by any means necessary, expel as many Latinos and other brown or Black people from the US as they can, and boost the white population.

In short, eugenics.

it's no coincidence that Trump started using Hitler's antisemitic phrase "poisoning the blood," applying it to immigrants instead of Jews.

So, while it's not the only reason, they're going to persecute healthy white people who aren't sprogging, just like the Nazis persecuted trans and gay people as well as lesbians whom they labeled "antisocial."

gotta be honest with you, i'm not too sure about this thing ppl say of "conservatives" being irrationally opposed to "trans people just existing" or whatever. i guess controversial take but no they actually have very concrete reasons to oppose bodily autonomy and the destabilization of sexual roles we represent considering their views on sex/gender and social reproduction overall actually. obviously we must oppose those views as they are 1. wrong and 2. oppressive but like. it's not like they just chose a random minority to hate. i mean otherwise why do you think it's specifically us.

[just1cefor4ll]

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader warning. reader has an ed, swearing, not proof read, mentions of a toxic music industry

A/n. if anything here triggers you and it isnt listed in the warnings, dm me and ill add it in. I do NOT by any means encourage this type of “life style” and if you’re struggling with this, please try and seek out help— you’re not alone!!

You never thought love would be this exhausting. When you met Choi Su-bong—better known as Thanos—it was effortless. The kind of connection that didn’t need explaining. You were just a woman who had a shitty day at work and he was just a guy with a passion for music, and you just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.

That night in Hongdae, after his set, you locked eyes across the bar. You knew who he was, but you didn’t treat him like everyone else did.

“You rap?” you asked, casually swirling your drink.

“I try,” he smirked, leaning against the counter.

You scoffed. “I saw your set. You don’t just try.”

And that was it. That was how it started. Late-night walks through Seoul, deep conversations about music and life, stolen moments in the quiet corners of the city. Love was simple back then.

And for a while, life was good.

The first time the paparazzi caught you together, you didn’t think much of it. His fame had just sky rocketed but maybe people would talk for a bit and they’d move on, right?

You were wrong

Within hours, your face was everywhere. "Who is she?" "She’s not even pretty." "She’s just using him for clout." "She’s ruining his career."

At first, you laughed it off. It was just noise. Strangers behind screens didn’t know you— didn’t know him. But the more you saw it, the harder it became to ignore. They picked apart your looks, your past, your worth. The more you scrolled, the more those words burrowed under your skin.

Still, you smiled through it. You told him it didn’t bother you.

And he believed you.

It started small. Skipping meals here and there, telling yourself you’d eat later. You weren’t even trying to lose weight at first—you just didn’t feel like eating. But then the guilt crept in. Every bite felt heavy, every meal like a reminder that you weren’t enough. You started purging before you even realized it had become a habit. The first time, it was an accident—you ate too much too fast and felt sick, so you ran to the bathroom. But after that, it became… easy. A solution. Eat what you want, then get rid of it. No guilt, no weight gain. A perfect balance.

And no one noticed.

Not even him.

He was always busy—touring, recording, filming. When he came home exhausted, you curled up next to him, pressing your body close so he wouldn’t notice how much smaller you’d gotten. If he asked if you’d eaten, you’d lie. “Yeah, I grabbed something earlier.” If he asked why you were so tired, you’d blame work.

You convinced yourself it wasn’t a problem. You weren’t like those girls in the hospital beds, hooked up to IVs. You could stop whenever you wanted.

But you didn’t stop.

And eventually, he started noticing.

“You’ve been getting sick a lot,” he said one night, brushing your hair back as you sat curled up on the couch. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile. “It’s just stress.”

“You’re barely eating.”

“I eat.” A lie. A reflex.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Is this because of the shit people say online?” “No,” you said too quickly. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. “I don’t care what they think, you know that, right?” He pulled you into his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield. “None of that matters.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did.

You didn’t remember passing out. It was the next day and Su-bong had left earlier that morning for a meet and greet which you decided to sit out, not feeling like facing his fans at the moment. One second you were going to the bathroom and the next you were hunched over the toilet, spilling your guts out before everything went black.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital bed. The beeping of machines filled the silence, the sterile smell burning your nose. Your throat felt raw, your body weak.

And then you saw him. Sitting in the chair beside you, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.

He looked up when he realized you were awake, and you’d never seen that expression on him before—this mixture of fear, anger, heartbreak.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been yelling or crying. Or both.

You wanted to speak, to tell him you were fine, but nothing came out.

“I—” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t see it. I should have seen it.” His jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tears burned your eyes. Because you wouldn’t have understood. Because I didn’t want to be your problem. Because I thought I had it under control.

But the truth was, you didn’t know why. And now, it didn’t matter.

Because it was already too late.

Waking up in that hospital bed was one thing. Facing what came next was another.

The first few days were a blur—doctors coming in and out, voices you barely registered, Su-bong staying by your side through all of it. He didn't leave. Not once. Not when they hooked you up to IVs, not when you were too weak to lift your head, not even when you refused to look at him out of shame.

But silence never lasted long with him.

"You scared the shit out of me," he admitted one night, his voice quiet but raw. He was sitting in the chair beside you, fingers laced together as he stared at the floor. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

You swallowed, throat still sore. "I'm sorry." "Don't—" He shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Don't apologize. Just.. tell me what I can do. Tell me how to help."

You didn't know how to answer that.

But help came anyway.

Recovery wasn’t linear. Some days, you convinced yourself you were getting better. You ate the meals they gave you, nodded along when the doctors talked about therapy, let Su-bong hold your hand and tell you things would be okay.

Other days were harder.

Some mornings, you stared at the tray of food in front of you, stomach twisting with guilt before you even took a bite. Some nights, the voices in your head whispered that you didn’t deserve to get better. That you weren’t sick enough. That this was still your control to take back.

But every time you struggled, he was there.

He held you when you broke down. He sat with you through therapy sessions, even when it hurt to talk about things. He learned. Read books. Asked questions. Stopped saying things like “just eat” and started saying “I’m here” instead.

And slowly—painfully—you started to believe him.

But the world outside didn't make it easy.

You weren’t on social media anymore, but you didn’t have to be to know what people were saying. The news was everywhere.

"Thanos’ girlfriend hospitalized for an eating disorder."

"Scandal or sympathy grab?"

"Fans blame toxic industry for shocking health crisis."

Some people supported you. Others weren’t so kind.

And when Su-bong sat down for his first interview since everything happened, it was only a matter of time before someone brought you up.

"So," the interviewer started, her smile more fake then the diamond ring she had on, "there’s been a lot of talk about your personal life lately."

Su-bong tensed. He knew where this was going.

The interviewer continued, undeterred. "Some fans think your relationship has been a distraction for your career. There’s been speculation that—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The entire room went silent.

The interviewer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." His voice was sharp, his hands clenched into fists on the table. "You think this is some gossip headline? Some scandal to dissect? I almost lost her because of people like you. Because of people who picked her apart, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now, instead of talking about the real issue, you wanna turn this into some bullshit narrative about my career?"

The interviewer fumbled for a response, but he wasn’t done.

"I don’t give a fuck about the music industry if it means losing her. You get that?" His jaw tightened. "She is not a distraction. She is my life."

The interview ended early. The clip went viral within hours.

You saw the video later, sitting on the couch at home, wrapped in one of his hoodies. You expected to feel guilty. Maybe even embarrassed. But instead, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

He sat down next to you, watching carefully. “You okay?” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For fighting for me.” He exhaled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I’ll always fight for you."

Healing wasn’t a straight path. Some days were good. Others weren’t. But you weren’t alone anymore.

And that was enough to keep going.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[captainmalewriter]

Crown Legend

Alex Gonzalez lived by one motto in life: work hard, play hard. Those four short words were all the young Latino needed to motivate himself every morning before work. Working in construction was no walk in the park, but it paid good money, and money was Alex’s second favorite thing in life (the first being women, of course). 

The clock struck 6PM that Friday evening. As always, Alex was the first one to clock out and leave. 

There was going to be a huge party at La Rana Mojada tonight. Alex knew he just needed to be there. He drove back to his apartment in record time and ran inside with great excitement, only to go into a coughing fit due to a strong smell assaulting his nose as soon as he walked in. The cause of the smell stood a few feet away from him in the form of his roommate Rico, who was already dressed to the 9s and ready to head out. 

“Aye pa, what the fuck is that smell?” Alex said. Rico grinned before responding. 

“It’s this new cologne that just hit the markets. Crown Legend. Shit’s expensive as fuck but I was able to snatch one up before they sold out again. Smells good, huh,”

“Yeah it smells alright but fuck man it’s too strong!!”

“You think so? I haven’t noticed, but hey, the bitches go crazy for Crown Legend! Check it, these two blonde chicks were all over me after they caught a whiff of me!”

Rico whipped his phone out and showed Alex photographic proof. The women surrounding Rico in the photos were gorgeous, with their glossy lips and massive racks. Alex couldn’t lie; he was impressed by his roommate’s game, maybe even a little bit envious too. 

“So wassup, you’re coming to La Rana tonight right?” Rico asked.

“Yeah man. I just gotta get ready first. I’ll catch you down there, save me a shot alright.” 

The two men dapped each other up and went their separate ways. Alex showered and then went to his room to get dressed for the night. 

Alex couldn’t stop thinking about Crown Legend as he got ready. The cologne’s overwhelming scent made him dislike it. But despite its strength, it did smell pretty damn good. Plus, Alex couldn’t deny the success it brought with the ladies. The cologne already helped his roommate pull a couple of bad bitches. If it helped Rico, surely it would help him too. 

As that last thought crossed his mind, Alex found himself unconsciously walking over to Rico’s room. He grabbed the blue bottle from the top of his dresser. Even from just the feel of the sleek bottle in his hand, Alex could tell it was very high-quality cologne. No doubt Rico spent a lot of money just to buy it…

Alex decided to give himself a quick spritz on his wrists. He went in for a quick sniff, only to go back for a deeper sniff once the scent filled his nose. The cologne had a luxurious scent that smelled of aged oud coupled with amber resin and a touch of citrus. All he needed was to get over the initial shock of how strong it was to realize how great it smelled. Alex wasn’t sure what got into him; he just couldn’t get enough of it! 

Then, against his better judgment, he showered himself in Crown Legend. He sprayed it all over his neck, chest, and arms, only stopping once he was fully doused in the expensive cologne. Once he was satisfied, Alex put back the cologne bottle and returned to his room like nothing happened. He finished getting ready and then left for La Rana.

The party was already in full swing by the time Alex had arrived. Heads were turning the moment he walked in, though that was mostly because of the obscene amount of cologne he was wearing. Alex loved all the attention regardless. He walked over to the bar with a haughty strut, downed two shots of tequila like it was water, and proceeded to flirt with any woman who caught his eye. By the end of the hour, he was out on the dance floor with a beautiful, busty brunette as his dancing partner. Alex almost couldn’t believe how quickly he scored that night. His success cleared the last bit of doubt in his mind. Crown Legend was a game-changer!

As Alex danced and drank the night away, he began to notice something strange happening to him. Even though he was surrounded by some of the hottest women he had ever seen, he found himself eyeing some of the men in the club. He quickly corrected his line of sight back to a woman every time he caught himself checking out some dude. Yet despite his efforts, Alex just couldn’t resist the male eye candy all around him. Alex licked his lips as he watched with hungry eyes various men swaying their hips to the rhythm of the music, their skin glistening with sweat underneath the strobing club lights. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get close to one of those men and—

“What the fuck’s going on with me…” Alex held a hand to his temples. The music was way too loud all of a sudden. The lights too bright. Desperate to escape the over-stimulating environment, he rushed to the bathroom and ran inside an empty stall. As he tried catching his breath, Alex noticed how hot he was. His clothes were clinging to his body with how sweaty he was. He decided to strip down to just his underwear to cool down, hoping it would help whatever was going on inside his mind and body. 

Alex sighed. As he leaned against the bathroom wall, a certain moist sound coming from the neighboring stall perked up his ears. Like most men, Alex almost immediately recognized the fapping sound. He turned and saw some guy’s pants hanging around his hairy ankles. There was also a sizable hole covered up with toilet paper in the divider separating the two stalls. He must’ve missed these details due to how fast he ran in. Coupled with the stifled groan the guy just let out, it became all too clear what was going on. 

Normally, Alex would’ve been disgusted by what he was witnessing, but that wasn’t the case this time. Instead, he listened to the sensual sounds of some guy stroking his cock like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. There was something exciting about meeting another man in a public bathroom. Alex could feel how fast his heart beat as he massaged his nipple, letting out a small grunt with every pinch he gave himself. The man groaned a little bit louder in response, encouraging Alex to join in on the fun. And so he did. 

He took a step forward. His socks were now visible to whoever was in the other stall. A moment passed without either of them saying or doing anything else. Then, the man took the rolled-up paper out of the hole and leaned in, giving Alex a clear sight of both his lips and the bushy facial hair he had. The sight of another man’s mouth, ready and eager to please, pushed Alex over the edge. Before he knew it, a massive tent had already formed in his underwear. No longer able to hold back, Alex took off the last piece of clothes he had on and slipped his hard member into the hole. The man took him inside his mouth and began sucking away on his sensitive tip.

“Ugh? Oooohhhh…”

Alex threw his arms behind his head as the pleasure from the man working his way down his meat overtook him. He titled his head into his hairy armpit and sniffed it. The mix of his own body musk combined with Crown Legend was delightfully intoxicating, causing him to let out an obscene moan with every whiff. 

The man had a warm, wet mouth and he knew how to keep a firm grip with his lips. The man took his time too, making sure to give every inch of Alex’s dick some attention before eventually taking Alex’s entire length down his throat. It drove Alex crazy every time the man’s thick mustache brushed against his own bush. He was moaning like a madman, pressing his hips against the stall divider, desperate to get his cock even deeper into the man’s throat.

“Arggg… Fuckkkk…” 

It surprised Alex how much he enjoyed getting serviced by another guy. He was no stranger to getting head. He had received more blowjobs than he could even count! Yet this random, unnamed stranger was quickly on his way to taking the number one spot! 

His.

“No… NO! STOP IT!” 

Alex jumped away from the glory hole and rushed to get his clothes back on. The man yelped with surprise at how abruptly Alex had ended it. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“NO! I ain’t gay!!”

“Are you sure? It seemed like you were really enjoying it—”

“Man, FUCK you!” 

Alex threw his shirt on, then bolted out of there. He forced his way through the crowd of drunk people, only stopping when he finally got back to his car. He got in, drove as fast as he could back to his apartment, and hopped in the shower to wash everything off. Alex stood in the spray of warm water completely dumbfounded. He had been attracted to women and only women his entire life! The way he acted was just so… out of character for him. No matter how much he thought about it, he just couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly so attracted to men. 

“Whatever. I’m never doing that gay shit again…” Alex swore to himself as he dried off with a towel. With only his underwear on, Alex stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway— where his roommate Rico was standing shirtless and still semi-drunk. 

“Heyyy there… SEXY motherfuckaa…” Rico slurred his words as he spoke. Alex felt his nose twitch. There was a smell lingering in the air. Alex closed his eyes and focused on his sense of smell as he inhaled deeply. He could vividly smell the alcohol on Rico’s breath along with his sweaty body odor after a night of dancing, but there was another scent too. It was one Alex had become all too familiar with. 

Crown Legend. 

Alex took another deep sniff of the air, letting the cologne reignite his homoerotic desires, then let out a satisfied sigh. Rico smelled good, and Alex needed to get closer to him. 

Alex closed the distance between Rico and himself and planted a firm kiss on his roommate’s lips. Rico kissed him right back. Their boorish grunts and deep groans filled the tiny apartment hallway as they made out like they were angry at each other. Alex pulled away to start licking and kissing his way down Rico’s body, beginning with the crane of his neck and only stopping once he was on his knees with Rico’s big, brown cock in his face. 

“Nuuughhhh fuck yeah…” they groaned in unison. 

Alex was experiencing sensory ecstasy. The sensual sounds of pleasuring another man with his mouth. The strong smell of Rico’s musk combined with the strong cologne. The feeling of another man’s cock filling up his mouth with every thrust. And finally, the salty, warm taste of swallowing his first-ever load as he drained Rico’s balls with his throat. Alex was red in the face and drenched with sweat by the time they finished. Hooking up with another dude was a pleasure unlike any other Alex had experienced, and it left him hungry for more.

“Hey, it’s only midnight,” Rico started. “We can still head out and fuck around some more. You down?” 

“Fuck yeah I am, lemme go get dressed and let’s go!!” Alex replied. As he got up, Rico grabbed the bottle of Crown Legend from his room and looked at Alex with a devilish grin.

“Want another hit before we head out?” Rico swirled the bottle, causing the liquid fragrance inside to slosh around. Alex hesitated at first but quickly agreed when he remembered just how good Crown Legend smelled. The cologne had completely reworked his cognition from how much he had been exposed to it.

“Yeah, sure, just another little spritz or two wouldn’t hurt…”

[mintwithchoco]

Slow Down

Oh My Girl Yooa x Male Reader + Male OC

Word Count: 8883 words

Categories: smut, threesome, oral, spitroasting, rough sex(?), double penetration, subbygirlfriend!yooa honestly, commission

Commission Details: one quaint sized of mint choco ice cream (8k-10k words)

Inspired from:

Breathe in, breathe out. Control it. Just for a little bit more. You can hold it in, you can definitely hold it— 

“Fuck, Yooa… slow it, down, a little—”

She’s far from gone. You can’t stop her anymore. Relentlessly thrusting herself onto your cock is the only way for her to feed off this sinful pleasure. Being a few weeks away from her beloved significant other is quite the punishment, and with it comes an unquenchable desire to give you the best ride of your life, milking everything that your balls have saved.

This situation was within your expectation however, so you were prepared to pull an all-nighter. What wasn’t in it though was how you would have four orgasms, fully filling up her cock hungry soul in a span of three hours. To say that you were exhausted was an understatement—you felt like you were on the borderline of passing out as the constant streams of euphoria registers into your whole body. 

Both of your crotches were in complete mess. Your cum was literally leaking out of the horny girl, who just couldn't keep her mouth shut, resonating the room with her moans. With a piercing screech, she makes one last powerful thrust and sprays her climax juice all over your cock. 

Now that she’s laying almost lifeless on your torso, surely this enthralling scene would come to an end right?

Before you could even think about sleeping with your cock still inside her dripping cunt, she rises up once again after whispering into your ear these three sinful words, “Cum for me.” This instantly sparked something inside your brain to force everything you have left to tend to your lover’s demand. You hold her by the waist, steadily supporting her body moving against you. The friction proved to be effective as you were driving closer and closer to your peak.

 “Yes, yes, yes, fucking cum for me!”

 “Fuuuuck, Yooa!”

You let Yooa sink deep into your lap as you violently let out everything that you had—two thick shots of cum smearing her insides, adding towards the already unreasonable amount. Her head falls backwards, letting herself fully enjoy the feeling of being stuffed with your semen until she finally collapses onto you due to exhaustion. Meanwhile, it was a challenge for you to regain your composure after that intense session, especially with Yooa hugging you so tightly. Yet, you didn’t utter any complaints. A satisfied smile from your beautiful girlfriend is all you need to feel better.

“That was so good, oppa. You came so much for me.” Yooa said, in between breaths.

You giggle softly. “Anything to make my dearest happy. I hope you feel satisfied now.”

Yooa nods cutely, and you reply back with a kiss on her forehead. No other words were needed to end the night off as Yooa snuggles into your embrace, making you drape the sheets over your sweaty bodies before drifting off to sleep.

─◍──────

“...I just feel like, last night, we didn't do very much. Like, I need more.”

“You… want more?” She nods. “So, all we did last night was not enough?”

“No! No, oppa, I-I don’t mean it like that! It’s just that…” Yooa trails off, getting distracted by the ice cream stand by the street you both are going to before continuing, “It’s just that I wanna, you know, try something new when we do it again!”

The two of you are currently basking in the serenity of a much-needed getaway, a perfect retreat after Yooa’s performances at the recent Waterbomb festival. As both a congratulatory gift for her success plus an apology gift for being away on a business trip, you decided to bring her to the resort that she’s been dying to visit for months. Unsurprisingly, she was more than ecstatic to thoroughly experience this trip, savoring each second as if it was the most precious thing to her.

“Don't we always do that? I mean, last night, I came so much inside of you—”

Yooa puts a finger on your lips to stop you, as more people are appearing on the sidewalk. “Shhh, not so loud!” She sighs, before continuing, “I know it was, but it was me who wanted it. How about we switch it up this time, with you picking what we do next?”

But we’ve done everything though?

The intention of shopping at a mall near the resort is put on hold for a while with a stop for some ice cream. While you both munch down on your cold snack, you begin to wonder what your girlfriend really wants—what else haven't you done with her? 

For the last year you’ve been together, you’ve experienced a lot of new things with Yooa. Memories of the first date are still fresh in your mind, like it just happened yesterday. You remember being so nervous to even meet eyes with her, especially knowing the fact that a well-known idol you’ve seen on music shows countless times is now right in front of your eyes. You’d have to thank the hands of fate somehow, as Yooa was attracted to your charms from the very beginning, and how genuine you are going into this relationship after being tested with the cons of her busy idol life. 

Yooa suddenly whines at your tense expression. “Don’t think about it too much, oppa! I’m still very happy, and that's all that matters. Let's just enjoy this trip to the fullest, okay?”

She's right. Your focus should be on this trip that you have thoughtfully planned out purely for both of you. You then grab her hand swiftly and lead her through your next agenda. Before you know it, you both are already walking around the mall, your eyes left to scatter around for some interesting place to shop at. Eventually, Yooa stops by a dress store. 

She quickly gets to one of the clothes racks. “Look oppa, this dress is so cute! This one too! And this one!” 

You smile. “Why don't you try it on?” 

Yooa then excitedly grabbed three of the dresses that she likes and brought them to the dressing room. It only took her a few minutes to put on her first choice—a white floral patterned dress which flaunts her curves really well and more on the revealing side. When she comes out to show it off to you, you’re nothing but starstruck by her look.

“How does it look, oppa?” 

You snap out of your little trance. “Uhh, looks great to me! How do you feel about it?”

“It’s a little tight, but it's comfy!” Yooa spins around while checking out all the details of the dress. “Hmm. I’ll put on the next one.”

She returns to the small cubicle to change into her second option—a plain dark blue maxi dress, flowy and conservative that reaches by her ankles. It definitely looks much cuter than the first one, due to its simple nature. The door opens, and you are immediately greeted by a much brighter look from your girlfriend.

“Oppa look! This is sooooo cute! What do you think?” Yooa says while fluttering her dress cutely.

“Yeah, it does look cute babe! Wait, just stand there and look pretty.” You quickly pull out your phone and open your camera. Taking a few steps backwards to aim your phone properly, you began to capture a few pictures of your gorgeous girlfriend. 

“Hey—”

Suddenly, you accidentally hit something—or rather someone while you were backing up. You jerk in surprise and immediately look behind.

“Oh, shit—s-sorry! I didn't see you there,” Hold on, this guy looks familiar…

“It's cool, bro—eh?” The man’s neutral expression turns into a puzzled one once both of you meet eyes, as he also recognizes you. It didn't take that long for you both to find the answer.

“Mingi?!” Yooa exclaims.

Take another look at his face, and your eyes widen. “No way! What's up bro?”

Mingi isn't just an acquaintance; more accurately, he's your former rival. Before you became close with Yooa, he was the one taking her on dates, spoiling her with gifts, and, for all the obvious reasons, shaping her into the woman you’re now with. In some ways, you could admit that they made a great couple, given how happy they seemed together. But in the end, it wasn’t meant to be. Their careers clashed too much, pulling them in different directions. Thankfully, they ended things on good terms, as shown by how well they still maintain their friendship over the years.

You give Mingi a firm handshake. “Good, good. Are you two on a holiday?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been away because of work and she's been busy as well, so we decided to just take a little detour here. What about you, what are you doing here?”

Mingi beams, “Oh, this is actually my store! Well—not exactly mine, but my sister’s store. I’m just helping with a few things here.” 

Yooa butts in, “No wonder the store felt familiar! Hey, can we get a discount on these?” 

“An idol asking for a discount? That’s rare.” 

“Hey, idols still need to save some money if given the chance!”

Mingi and Yooa continue to tease each other, going back and forth with each other like back in their days. Surprisingly, you were unfazed by their shenanigans at all. Jealousy has never even crossed your mind. It's all due to the fact that Mingi has been nothing but genuinely nice to the both of you, even going as far as advising you on some things about Yooa in your early days. And like he mentioned to Yooa, he is also not interested in looking for another partner yet, which means a scheme of getting back together is definitely not in his books. Hopefully.

“Alright, alright, I’ll give you these three dresses for the price of one. Happy?” Mingi offers, and Yooa excitedly agrees.

You shake your head in response, feeling the secondhand embarrassment from your girlfriend’s playful behavior. As Mingi sends both her and a staff member to the receptionist for some final adjustments and the payment of the dresses, you thank him for the generous offer.

“It's nothing really. Hey, we should totally hang out sometime. Been a while since we had a drink.”

“Yeah, dude! I’ll see if we can make the time.”

Mingi snickers. “No, no, no, I mean, just us. Boys talk, you know what I mean?”

You thought about it for a while until you caught his message. “Gotcha, gotcha.” Within minutes, Yooa returns to you with a bag on hand containing the dresses. A big smile is plastered on her face. “All done, babe?”

Yooa nods. “Thanks again Mingi! I’ll be sure to promote your store on my Insta!”

“You better be, or else I'm getting killed by Minju. You two keep enjoying your day, alright?”

You both bid Mingi a goodbye and went on to check out some other stores around. Amidst the shopping spree and the almost excessive spending done by your girlfriend, one thing is still stuck in your mind throughout your day. 

“Boys talk, you know what I mean?”

It wouldn't hurt to bring it up to him, right?

───◍────

Afternoon soon came around, and you are now lying lifelessly across the bed in your hotel room. Your legs are at the point of breaking apart (probably an exaggeration on your end) due to the whole shopping spree in the morning. You blankly stare at the white ceiling, wondering when your next few events will unfold. But it quickly diminishes itself as the fatigue finally settles in your body, your eyelids growing heavier the more you sink into the ever so comfortable mattress.

Just as you are about to fall deeper into your state of resting, a face suddenly appears in your vision.

“Oppa!” Yooa’s loud voice rings in your ear, making you jolt awake. “Let's go for a swim!”

“A swim? That does sound nice. But—” You stretch out your limbs, before continuing, “I’m all drained out. Maybe later.”

Yooa flattens her lips, looking slightly dissatisfied with your answer. “Alright then, but I’m going first. Feel free to join in whenever you want!”

You flip your body over, sinking yourself into the bed with your face flat and give her a thumbs up. Yooa quickly finishes preparing herself for the pool, wearing a two piece swimsuit that perfectly accentuates her tantalizing figure and bringing along a couple of towels to cover up and dry herself right after. 

Before she reaches for the door, Yooa screams out, “I’m going now!” 

You weakly utter, “Mmm, have fun.”

The door closes, and you are now left alone in the room, being free with your own thoughts and to do whatever you want. Maybe you will join your girlfriend downstairs. Though to be fairly honest, you’re not a big fan of public swimming pools, so the only reason why you would go to the pool is to just admire Yooa in her skimpy swimsuit. So basically, there's not much use for you to go there anyways other than to accompany your girlfriend. But looking at her enthusiasm even if you—her beloved one who she sticks with all the time like glue—are not there shows that she can take care of herself well enough for the moment.

Eventually, your thoughts come across your encounter with Mingi once more, leading you to remember your concerns about Yooa. You don't know whether you should bring this topic up to him at all, despite Mingi’s open mind and carefree nature. Sure, he has helped you out in deciphering your girlfriend’s riddles since he went through it all with her. Though, this is more of a “personal” case rather than your typical puzzling interactions. 

But in your head, there's a voice that tells you to take this chance. Maybe there’s still a few things that Mingi hasn't told you, and this could be the right opportunity to do so. Soon enough, you got a hold of your phone and quickly got in contact with him.

[4:26 PM] You: yo, you free?

[4:28 PM] Mingi: in about a few mins

[4:28 PM] Mingi: why?

[4:29 PM] You: lets hang out, i have smth to talk about

[4:31 PM] Mingi: ight, where?

[4:32 PM] You: at the resort’s cafe, i’ll send you the location

[4:35 PM] Mingi: cool, be there in 10

It took you two minutes to get dressed and be headed downstairs to the cafe. Luckily, the swimming pool is on the top floor, so chances of being noticed by Yooa would be pretty low. Once inside the cafe, you are greeted by the calming scent of coffee beans, the buzzing sounds made from the espresso machine, brewing a fresh shot of that liquid gold caffeine.

A waiter soon comes up to you when you finally find a seat by the window. “Americano, cold.”

“Alright. Anything else, sir?”

“Uhh, my buddy is coming soon, but I’m not sure what he wants—”

“A hot caramel macchiato, please.” A voice suddenly appears behind the waiter, startling the both of you. “Oh, sorry.” Mingi then sits down in front of you while the waiter confirms your order before leaving you both to your matters. “Didn’t think we’d hang out this soon. You must have something on your mind.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “But it’s a little different this time. This might get a little uhh… vulgar.” Mingi’s eyebrows moved and a small smirk began to appear on his lips, already having an interest in the topic you’re about to cover. “We just gotta keep it lowkey.”

Mingi adjusts his clothes, all ears for the conversation. “Alright, hit me with it.” 

With every word you let out, you try your best to carefully explain what you’re dealing with while keeping it in sentences that won't make anyone bat an eye even if they heard it. The further you talk, the further Mingi looks amused and keeps asking you more details about your lovemaking life. One after another, his questions grow to become more direct and specific which makes you a bit worried since the number of people coming into the cafe were also increasing. You try to give him a sign to lower his voice, but he brushes it off by saying, “Don’t worry man, no one’s really near us anyways.”

After gathering everything that you have said, Mingi began to give you a few suggestions, some of which are quite concerning and rather questionable. You rejected most of them, given that they were either out of your comfort zone or too much for you and probably Yooa to consume. I mean like, why would you constrict your girlfriend with ropes and tapes just to heighten her pleasures? Your vanilla-esque mind can only handle so much that you couldn’t even bear to watch your girlfriend being in pain even if she enjoys it. A few customers around are starting to give your pair a weird look because of your constant recoils of embarrassment after hearing such sinful words coming out of Mingi which were only bedroom appropriate. Eventually after even more refusal from you, Mingi finally lands on something that piques your interest.

“What about… adding another guy in one of your sessions?” 

“You mean a threesome?” 

“Yeah, but don’t get like a random guy. At least bring someone that is familiar to you, like a friend. It depends on her as well.”

“D-Did you ever do it?” 

Mingi snickers. "Yeah, I asked one of my staff to join in while we’re doing it in the office.”

Your eyes widen, almost spilling out the drink in your mouth before swallowing it quickly. “You serious?” Mingi shrugs his shoulders with a smirk on his face. “H-How did it go?”

“Oh, she loved it. Even asked the guy to come by the house after that.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course! He’s a youngster after all. Just giving him some fun, you know. But Minju doesn't like it whenever I bring someone over.” 

“Wait, when you said ‘we’, does that mean—”

“Oh, no no no! It was with another girl. Don’t worry, Yooa is not as much of a freak as you think.” 

“Of course it's an understatement, coming from you.”

You began to find the benefits in the option Mingi gave to you this time. It's something that you and Yooa have never tried; check. If done in the right way, you won’t feel uncomfortable doing it; check. All parties—Yooa, yourself and the other guy—will feel satisfied by the end; check. No more double takes, this is probably the perfect breakthrough that your relationship could take. 

“Seems like I just hit the bullseye.” Mingi says after noticing your nodding head in agreement. “So, is that the answer?”

You inhale a sharp breath. “M-Maybe. It's the only thing I could imagine myself doing. But, who should I bring tho—” Your eyes then lock itself on the man right in front of you, who was enjoying his drink and the scenery unfolding outside the window. In a glance, Mingi emits a cold yet flirtatious aura, clearly letting you know how much experience he has in these kinds of situations. Your brain overloads itself with various depictions of how you want to fulfill your girlfriend’s wish.

Mingi notices that you were looking at him for a bit too long. “What?” 

A hesitant look in your eyes was certain, but your lips were quick enough to utter, “Do you wanna join us tonight?”

Mingi chokes on his drink. His cool demeanor begins to crumble apart as he coughs away the pain in his throat, never expecting the sudden invitation. “Wa-Wa-Wait a minute, are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“I think I said it,” you wear an uncertain look on your face. “Can't think of anyone else that's more perfect for this than you. We’re already pretty close and since we're here, why not try it now? Plus, you can teach me a few things too, I guess.”

Mingi’s eyes blinked a few times, still processing what you had said. “Are y—Are you sure, bro? Like, reaaaaally sure?” He stops for a while, licks his lips, before continuing, “You do realize that I’m literally her last ex?”

“I know dude. But honestly, you’re the only guy that I’d trust with her if I wanna do this.” As Mingi calmly lines his thoughts together, you watch his actions intently, waiting for his answer. “T-That is, if you're free tonight. No pressure.”

“Oh my god.” Mingi rubs his temple, managing to let out a little chuckle, baffled by your assertion. His eyes are quick to scan the surroundings, hoping to find a camera of some sort, holding a belief that this is some sort of cursed prank. “Dude, tell me I’m dreaming right now. Ain’t no way you’re letting me clap your girl just like that.”

“You’re right. This does sound very wrong, but like—” The more you think about it, the more you feel that this is totally an absurd request. Although, the drive to uncover the unknown has been implanted in your head, with the motivation to please your girlfriend’s wants seeding it to full growth. “One time doesn’t hurt, right?” 

Mingi sighs, “Fuck, man.” 

For a moment, you felt like time is slowing down, eagerly making you nervous for Mingi's reply when actually, you shouldn't need to. His mind has already been poisoned with the sinful thoughts of Yooa taking on both of them at once, how loud she will be when they both enter her insides, burying her face in the crook of his neck when that beautiful body of hers is bent over, begging for more as her fingers grip onto the bed sheets because of how full she feels— 

“You know what, I could scrap the idea, we can find someth—”

“Fuck it. Just… don’t tell Minju about this. Please.” 

“I-I guess that's a yes?” 

Mingi replies with a slow nod. “I’ll say this flat out, I’m just doing this because of you. I’m not gonna let Yooa focus on me too much. You’re the main guy for tonight.”

A sense of relief washes over your body. At last, your mind can rest easy after finding the potential solution to your girlfriend’s request. All that's left is for you to cross your fingers and hope that Yooa will enjoy the thought of having Mingi joining in the bed. Based on her mood today, she might take the chance for a different view. You are also ready for anything else if things go south—you’re used to last minute decisions anyways.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it. I know how she is, so we have nothing to worry about. Finish up your drink. I’ll take you to our room.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Soon enough, you both are on your way to the said hotel room upstairs. Check the time on your phone, 6:03 P.M. You expected that Yooa would already be back in the room, but the trail grows cold as the room was still in the same way before you left. It's a better outcome for you at least, letting you to prepare yourself for the potentially life changing experience.

Meanwhile, Mingi quickly gets comfortable as he takes off his jacket and sits down on the edge of the bed. “She’s still at the pool?”

“Yeah, but she said that she's gonna be back soon,” you say while replying to Yooa’s message on your phone. “How about Minju? Is she okay with you being late?”

“Don't worry about it. I can make shit up. Worst I’ll get is a pinch on my chest,” As Mingi moves himself into the bed more, he asks, “Hey, what if she doesn't wanna do it? What do we do?”

You scrunch your face, not knowing the answer. “I hope that won't happen, because I got nothing else.”

Mingi puckers his lips, “Mmm, I don’t know man, I’m still on the fence here to be honest. And if I was her, I probably wouldn't do it.”

Two minutes later, a faint beep was heard and the door opened itself. Yooa enters the room swiftly, her lower half covered with a towel and her hair still looking pretty damp, a sign that she really did go for a dip in the swimming pool. She immediately stops in her tracks when she spots the other guest on the bed.

“Mingi? What are you doing here?” 

You walk over to Yooa who is still standing in front of the door. “Hey babe. Listen, uh…” You look over to Mingi, who gives you a reassuring nod. You began again, now bringing her in closer to you by the waist. “Remember when you told me that you wanna try out something new?”

Like magic, Yooa reads your mind. “Is that why he's here?”

“Kinda. We both met up just now and talked about it. And uh, Mingi suggests that we try out a threesome. Since he's already close with us, I thought to just—you know, invite him for it,” you explained. “So, what do you think about Mingi joining us for the night?” You applaud yourself silently in your head for successfully asking her without a lot of stuttering.

Mingi suddenly gets off the bed and comes up closer to the two of you. “Come on, Yooa. I know you miss a piece of me,” His fingers move to caress Yooa’s chin gently. “Princess.” 

Her eyes widen instantly upon remembering her term of endearment with Mingi, specifically used whenever he feels aroused. She obviously loved the nickname as well, as it is certain to make her blush even until now, along with the recollections of it being used in their special moments. 

Amidst her desire building up, the feeling of self-consciousness lands first in her heart. She knew that she wanted a change, but this is definitely a risky step to take, especially considering that Mingi, her last ex, is involved. His amorous personality is what scares her the most, as it might induce anger within you and worst case scenario, a reckless brawl. 

“Have you thought this through? I just—” She sighs, “I don't want the both of you to fight.”

“Babe, I’ve thought about it, and I’m sure of it. If you're not interested, that’s fine by us. Though I really hope you would consider it.” You then hold both of her hands. “I know you're worried about me being jealous or angry with Mingi, but I promise I won't feel that way. I know that I’m the one who wanted this, and I know what I’m getting into, so you have my whole word for it, dear.”

She met eyes to the two tall men standing right in front of her. Her boyfriend has a fixed gaze on her, showing hints of nervousness, possibly because of the unusually long time she's taking to answer his question. While her ex has a calm yet eager look, though deep inside, it probably could be described as hunger at this point, just waiting for the right moment to devour its prey to fully satisfy his desires.

There is no amount of pressure that can match what Yooa is currently facing. She would literally be playing with fire, risking her relationship all for her own sexual desires. As she looks upon their eyes once again, it seems that they’re confident enough to invite her to do the act, especially her own lover, showing how much trust he has on both Mingi and Yooa, even if they are both facing a potential change of heart.

Mingi immediately breaks the few seconds of silence, “Look, I’m not gonna seduce you. I just want you to know that he's my bro, and bros won't hurt each other, mentally and physically. I’m just gonna be your uh, ‘Cock Number 2’ for tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The line of restrictions starts to fade away, as lust begins to take over with trust and devotion coming into play.

She takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly, before her lips part to speak, “Alright, let's have some fun, boys.”

Without wasting any time, you bring her in for a passionate kiss. Her body feels a little cold due from her time in the pool, but you love it nonetheless—she feels fresh in your arms, ready to be ravaged by the two of you. You found yourself falling further into her lips, and the tenderness of it led to an addiction that compelled your arms to hold her more securely. There is no doubt that you are already used to making out with your girlfriend; nonetheless, the feelings that you have are so intense that they could never leave your mind, a craving that is endless.

“Hey, don't leave me out now.” Mingi teases, feeling a little lonely looking at the couple.

After chuckling at his remark, Yooa invites him in to make out with her as well. Mingi shows no sign of hesitation, immediately latching onto her lips before she could even prepare for it. It is certainly odd to see a literal replay of how these two were back then, but you don’t let jealousy creep up into your head—you did agree to all of this unfolding anyways. All you can do now is to reach over to remove the towel covering Yooa’s legs and gently began caressing her beautiful figure from behind.

“Don’t forget your man behind you. Give him some love as well.” 

There’s not a single bit of resistance left—Yooa submits herself to the four hands that roam around her body as lust begins filling up her mind in every passing second. Mingi attacks her neck with soft pecks and bites, careful not to leave a mark. You, on the other hand, struggle to find the hem of her top while leaving kisses on her shoulders. After guiding your hand to it, Yooa reaches down to your crotch and cups the growing bulge in between your legs. 

“Fuck—” you gasp as her fingers massages your clothed cock, delicate yet agonizing. Although her touch is shooting copious amounts of pleasure into you, you manage to slip a hand under her top to reach her mounds. They fit perfectly in your palm, and you couldn't help but to just knead her breasts and tweak her nipples, making her jerk pleasurably.

Mingi puts a halt on his kisses. “I think it’s time we get more comfortable.”

You agreed almost immediately, making both of them giggle as you complain about your legs getting sore. You lift Yooa right into your arms, carrying her in a bridal style to bring her over to the much more pleasant bed. As soon as you lay her down on the soft mattress, she wraps her arms by your neck and pulls you into her lips once again. Mingi scoots over to the other side, takes off his shirt and joins in with your intertwining bodies on the bed.

He stares stupidly at the full view of Yooa’s figure reflected from the dim lights of the room. As his hands slowly creep upon her waist, he blurts out, “Damn, your body still looks fine as hell, just the way as I remember it.”

“Go on then, take off her clothes. You’ll get a better view that way,” you respond before going back to Yooa’s lips.

“Stole the words right out of my mouth.” 

Yooa's top is gone within seconds, and her bare breasts are finally fully exposed to your eyes. Perfectly round and perky with a set of brown protruding nipples, her tits are never disappointing, never failing to make you drool for it every time. Although before you could satisfy your own hunger, Mingi lands his lips onto them first while squeezing each boob gently in his palms. Her body starts to jerk at the pleasing touch, and the way your kisses trails across her neck and shoulders brings shivers down her spine. 

“Oh god, this feels, amazing…” Yooa breathlessly moans.

Intoxicated by her seductive tone, you and Mingi continue your teasing, or in one way to put it, worship her captivating body. A connection is made in both of your brains when the two of you dive mouth first on her erect nipples at the same time. Yooa throws her head back the more their tongues swirl around and suck on her areola, with each whimper driving both men nuts and hungry for more. 

Your idling hand then lands itself on her midriff, caressing each visible tone of her abs muscle that she worked on for years to maintain. It’s one of your favorite parts about her, though arguably, everything about her is perfect in your eyes. And obviously, the second man in the room shares the same thought, as his hands drift towards the heat between her legs, the main dish for the night. 

He slips it under her bottoms, and it is met with slickness on his fingers. A smirk is evident on his face. “Enjoying it so far, hun?”

“You— fuck— mmmh—” Yooa struggles to let out coherent words, her feelings still mixed around by the inconclusive thought that her past and present are on the verge of fighting for her pleasure, morals are being thrown away for the sake of discovering a new side.

Mingi makes contact with her vagina, his index and middle fingers help it to open up slightly, causing more of her juices to leak out. In the meantime, you continue to give love on her upper body, let it be her breasts, arms, pits, waist, stomach, anything deemed to be a part of Yooa is not leaving untouched by your kisses. Eventually, Mingi takes a big step by taking off the last article that’s left on her body. 

She moans at the feeling of being vulnerable and sensitive to the two men beside her, with the cold ambience of the room adding up to the cause of her shivering. After throwing the undergarment somewhere in the room, Mingi then moves himself in between of Yooa’s legs, but stops himself before going closer. 

“Dude, go for it. No need to ask me.”

Your mind immediately did a double take on what you said spontaneously. The words of affirmation goes straight out of your mouth with no hesitation whatsoever, and it baffles you how a few minutes ago, you are also unsure whether this was a good idea or not. It’s safe to say that you are now driven by only lust in this new experience, and you want to hope that it will get much better, because there are still a few doubts left in your mind. 

Mingi licks his lips in anticipation. Both of his hands hold onto her thighs, letting her to spread them apart as he descends his head lower towards her glistening pussy. He breathes out an impressed gasp, and his eyes are now locked upon his mouth-watering meal. Warm air grazes over her damp labia, and his fingers return to tease the opening to her walls. Yooa continues to squirm under your body due to Mingi’s immaculate touch, and desperation is imminent in her eyes. 

Yooa manages to reach over to the hem of your shirt to give it a little tug. You catch the message in an instant, so you take some time stripping down, leaving only your boxers to be your cover.

You groan deeply as Yooa fondles your confined erection for the second time. “So fucking hard, and full…”

Suddenly, she yelps in surprise and throws her head back in pleasure. Look to your right, and you’re greeted by the sight of Mingi devouring her pussy, lapping up all of her juices flowing out while gently penetrating her slit with his tongue. It freezes you in place for a second—this is a whole new appeal that strikes both arousal and fear inside you, but to be fair, it was all going in the way that you wanted it to be.

“I need— mmh, your cock, p-please?” Such a filthy request, coming from a goddess-like voice. 

Naturally, shyness overwhelms you. But why would you resist any further? It would be a big waste for you to dip out now. With a deep breath, you release your member from its confines, and it springs out hard and fairly warm. Salivating at the impressive length, she instinctively grabs it by the base, and strokes it gently with all that she can. More precum leaks out of your slit, an occurrence that has been happening since the beginning of the act, and it only grows better when it is finally shown to your girlfriend’s eyes.

The moment when Mingi sucks wholeheartedly on her pussy is when you begin inching your shaft closer to her face. As Yooa moans profusely with her mouth open, your tip makes contact with her plump lips and automatically, like a vacuum, it enters the wet cavern. The three of you are now connected in some way, and it is definitely a feastful sight to witness for those who are into it.

“She tastes so fucking good.” Mingi moans. “This never gets old.” 

Yooa is clearly getting accustomed with Mingi’s company in such a wicked act, and the same could be said to you, as your erection throbs over each lick to its underside and tip. It’s not a surprise that the view of Yooa’s gorgeous eyes locking upon yours as she takes you in more would drive your libido into overdrive.

“Just like that, princess. Good girl,” you groan.

Your hand having a firm grip on her head is something you rarely do, especially when you’re the one moving it further into your crotch. You’ve never gotten this rough with Yooa before, even your voice has dropped deep, filled with eagerness and dominance. As a copious amount of spit seeps out of her sealed mouth, so too does her vagina leak more, and it’s all thanks to the newly added two fingers thrusting in and out of her. 

Mingi is locked in, never leaving any parts of her pussy untouched and unstimulated. Be it with his lips or his fingers, he’s not showing any signs of halting his progress, amidst the suffocating clamp of her thighs around his head and the constant harsh jerks of her figure. The flame of passion continues to burn brighter, fueled by the girl’s wordless wails, intensifying with each of his rapid motions, all to gratify Yooa’s sensations. 

A thought comes across your mind, as you notice a small space on her crotch that’s left unattended—a perfect spot for another hand to lay upon. You slowly sneak your way to it, and the middle finger is immediately acquainted with her clitoris as it begins rubbing the flesh delicately. Alongside the vibrations from her mouth as she vocally expresses herself around you, a perfect cycle of pleasure is somehow made.

Disappointingly, the cycle is about to break after a while, as she is reaching her limits. Your shaft suddenly appears out of Yooa’s mouth, her back then arched itself perfectly while having both hands on Mingi’s head, holding on for dear life. Never uttering any complaints about the pain however, Mingi continues his feast like a hungry animal, gripping onto her thighs to make her stay put. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m cumming! Fuck—”

Give her head a gentle rub. A little comfort is the final stretch she needs to reach her orgasm, and she cums hard. Her head falls back, as she sprays love juices all over Mingi’s face and drenching the bed sheets. You’re even more impressed by the fact that he didn't falter from the pressure of her squirting, and instead diving right back into it, all in order to lap up everything that she had to offer.

The high comes to an end when Yooa raises herself up to lean by the bed frame, her chest heaving to gather some air. “Goodness, that was amazing.”

“Wasn’t that bad huh, princess?” Mingi teases while wiping his face with his own shirt. 

Yooa nudges him on the chest. “Shut up.”

“So, what's next?” you ask.

The man in front of you smirks as he gently caresses Yooa’s chin. “Gotta say, I quite miss the feeling of these lips being around me.”

You couldn’t agree more. “Guess it’s my turn on the other side then.”

Yooa didn’t even get a single word in, and yet her body is already being turned around by the waist, forcing her to be on both knees. The tip grazes over her pussy, still freshly wet from her orgasm, and it easily receives the first inch of your shaft. While you begin pushing yourself into her more, Mingi finally relieves the pressure of his own, revealing his member to the girl's eyes.

His heart races intensely when Yooa looks up, her mesmerizing yet lustful gaze upon his pride is a view that would make any man fall. Focus on her plump lips, and he lines himself right in front of them. It then opens slightly, which gives him a chance to insert his length into her orifice. Though he twitches before he could move any further, her hot breaths grazing over his shaft forces him to leak more.

“Oh god, yes. That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Mingi breathes out.

Yooa’s body arches once both men successfully insert themselves from both of her ends. Dopamine rushes through her immediately, as her boyfriend goes in deeper while Mingi holds her head in place, not wanting her mouth to leave unexpectedly. She’s helpless—there’s almost nothing that she could do by herself as these two men had a chokehold on her entire being. 

Without you realizing it, the switch has finally been turned on, as you began thrusting into your love. 

You're a changed man. All of your worries have been swept away, obviously by the way you're making Yooa’s body tremble and jiggle with each move of your hips. You crave for her moans, but it was muffled up due to the second cock that's filling up all of the space in her mouth. A slight jealousy invades your thoughts, courtesy of how Mingi is enjoying the warmth of your girlfriend’s mouth, and it instinctively drives you to progressively extend your reach inside of her. You quickly shake it off your mind however—the trust you have for the both of them is strong.

Mingi strokes Yooa’s head gently. “That’s it baby. Look at me. Look at me while he’s stretching you out. Bet she feels so tight huh?”

“Oh, so fucking tight. Our princess is doing so well.”

Mingi gathers a bunch of Yooa’s hair to make a ponytail of some sort, turning it as his handle to begin fucking her mouth. She gags repeatedly as he goes in deep down her throat, drool forming on either side of her lips. With the way things are going, the pet name “Princess” wouldn’t really line up with how much filth there is plastered on her image—lips messy with saliva and precum, body fully sheen with sweat and teary eyes begging for more. For this night alone, she is the perfect fuckdoll for the both of you, her mind has been reprogrammed only to fulfill lust and submit to pleasure. 

Thrust after thrust, and she ascends to her climax once again, the vigorous vibrations felt on Mingi’s shaft becomes the sign of her pussy gushing out juices all over you. The two of you express praises for your princess by not halting the pace, motivating her to leak out more. 

“Aww, our princess is leaking out so much for us! Do you want us to go faster?” Mingi teases. 

You don’t need her confirmation. Your hands are already digging into her waist, gripping them as tight as you can while relentlessly driving your hips. Yooa's body goes numb—she couldn’t catch a break for even a second, as the two hungry beasts are going rampant, using every bit of what she has to offer physically. 

Mingi loves this scene. You may not realize it, but other than being the second cock inside of your girlfriend, he has successfully turned you into the complete opposite of what you are in bed before. From being the submissive one, who lets all the work done by the girl, you’ve become the dominant one that takes control over everything, driven only by desire. In addition to that, the possessive side of yours was really starting to show its fangs, constantly asking Yooa who’s her real owner is.

She manages to release herself from her ex’s cock, before blurting out, “I’m yours, I’m yours! Only you oppa—” 

You cut her off by yanking her hair, pulling her closer to you. “Did I tell you to stop sucking him off?” 

Yooa moans profusely as your thrusts are put into a halt, the whole shaft sealing up her holes, forcing the walls to contract in. Though, you brush it off like it was nothing and manage to turn her body around to face you once more.

Almost immediately after you left her pussy, the neediness overpowers her as she gets all whiny, pushing her crotch against yours repeatedly. “Fuck, please please please, I need more, I need more—”

You calm her down and reach close to her right ear, “I’m about to show you, baby. Slow down.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot.” Mingi speaks out, his gaze locked towards the two of you while he idly strokes his member.

A smirk lands across your face. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Mingi moves himself behind Yooa and wraps his hands on her waist. “You don’t need to tell me twice. I know what our princess really wants.”

The girl giggles as Mingi brings her into his lap, her back resting against his muscular frame. His shaft appears right in between her thighs, and he guides it to the other hole that hasn’t been invaded by anything yet. Her legs shake when the man behind her slaps his cock over the puckering hole, but you hold them in place before the tip finally begins penetrating it. Thanks to him facefucking Yooa earlier, her saliva acts as some sort of lube to ease the friction when entering her extremely tight ass.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight.” Mingi moans. 

While Mingi struggles to penetrate your girlfriend’s back door deeper, you move yourself right in front of the two, letting your cock to rest against her midriff. You witness the way Yooa’s face contorts as Mingi brings her down more, biting her lips as response to the painful yet pleasuring act—she’s still so gorgeous amidst everything, and you crave for more. 

“I’m going in now, princess. Now, be a good girl for us and don’t cum until I say so, okay?”

You smile at her small nod of approval, her wanting eyes looking upon yours as you line yourself up to enter her once again. It feels a lot more tighter now somehow, due to the fact that her walls are convulsing even more with the addition of Mingi from behind. Nonetheless, you both push through the obstacle, filling up her insides like snuffing a pillow into its own sleeve.

This feeling of being this full was too much for her, and Yooa definitely knows that this is her limit. But she wants to keep going, the pleasure is too addicting for her, even if she knows that she will be completely drained by the end of this. As the two men drive even further into her guts, the exchange of guttural exhales are the signs of her euphoria, peaking at levels that she didn’t know existed.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, fuuuuuuck!” Her head falls back as your whole shaft is finally inside her, and ironically, you try your best not to cum first, the sudden constriction of her walls puts you instantly on cloud nine.

All three of you go stiff for a moment, trying to regain some sense before proceeding with this new experience. You leaned down to share a few kisses with your princess, “Does it feel good, baby?”

“It f-feels so good! I feel so full, oppa!”

Mingi adds fuel to the fire. “Are you ready for more, princess?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, pleasepleaseplease, I need it so bad!”

God, she looks so fucking cute being all needy and whiny like that, you thought. With a deep breath, your hips began to move in and out between her legs, disappearing your shaft inside of her slick cunt. At the same time, Mingi thrusts up into your girlfriend’s ass, and her body recoils with each of his harsh movements.

Yooa realizes the difficulty of the task that she had been given. How can she hold herself from orgasming when there’s two fully erect cocks all up in her guts? Simple answer; she can’t. She’s trembling so much that it’s getting harder for the both of you to hold her in place. 

Feeling compassionate, you motivate her, “Hold it in, princess. You can do it.” 

“Yes, princess. You’re a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Mingi continues.

She nods profusely. The thrusts now grow even stronger on both ends, as a perfect alternating rhythm is achieved between the two men. Struggling to contain the pressure building inside her, you gave her a little distraction by letting her suck on two of your fingers. It’s evident that her patience is running out as she glares at you with pleading eyes. 

“Tell me what you really want, princess. I’ll let you cum if I hear what I want.”

“I— I want— both of you— cum inside—”

“Aww, our princess wants to be filled up! Surely we won’t disappoint her huh, Mingi?”

Mingi snickers, before replying, “Fuck yeah, let’s give her what she deserves.”

The two of you go off on her, chasing the imminent climax that all of you desire the most. It’s getting closer than ever; the astonishing view of Yooa’s holes being full of white, and the extreme waterfall of her delectable juices gushing out. A few more thrusts later, and it finally comes to fruition. Your grip on her waist tightens, holding her in place as you fill her pussy to the brim with your hot load. The manly groans in the room doubles as Mingi also reaches his own peak, cumming deep inside of your girlfriend’s ass, completing the vision that you never even thought of dreaming about before.

Amidst the overload of euphoria and shortness of breath, you manage to break Yooa’s short curfew, “Cum for us, princess.”

In an instant, the pressure inside her snaps. With a gut wrenching moan, you witness her third climax—the most you have ever seen. It went exactly as you have pictured, the way her squirt covers your entire crotch in an instant, pouring out an immense amount nonstop until it soaks up the bedsheets and the pure ecstasy reflected in her eyes, finally being fulfilled of her wish. 

“Holy fuck,” you first utter, after a few seconds of just heavy breathing. “That was insane.”

Yooa’s body falls weak on top of Mingi’s, her head resting by his shoulder. He flinches for a second, “You okay there, princess?”

“Fuck, you guys,” she says, as you pull out of her slowly. “I feel so full.” As Mingi also retreats from her ass, it immediately stuns you with a view of both of your thick loads escaping the freshly fucked holes.

You let out a satisfied sigh at her response. The night was a complete success! “You deserved it, baby.”

The mess all over the room was the wake up call to reality for all of you. As laughter starts to erupt when Mingi makes a joke about the hotel service, you realize that it was an eye opening experience, considering the amount of comfort you felt after sharing an intimate experience together. Exhaustion then starts to settle in, but not for the guest of the night.

“Where the heck is— oh, here it is.” Mingi finds his phone beneath the bedside table, and is soon shocked as soon as he opens it. “Oh, fuck.”

You ask, “What's wrong?” Mingi shows the screen to you, making you gasp. “Holy fu—19 missed calls?!!”

Mingi hisses, knowing how much he’s getting scolded in a few more minutes by Minju. “Yeeeeah, I gotta go.” He immediately springs out of bed and dresses up. “It was great by the way, I enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, we did too. Thanks a lot man. You take care now,” you reply.

Yooa pops out of the blanket, “Bye Mingi!”

After you witness Mingi swiftly leaving your hotel room, the focus is now back to your lover. With a strong yank of the blanket, Yooa’s naked figure is revealed to you once again. 

You’re not slowing down just yet.

“Huh? B-Babe? What’s wrong?” she reacts.

“We’re not done yet, princess,” you say as your hand trails over her waist. “I haven’t fucked you thoroughly.”

“W-Wait babe, at least let me cle—”

“That can wait. Besides,” you whispered close to her ear, “I’m gonna fill you up again.”

“Ahh! Babe! S-Slow down!”

===========================================

note; thank you so much for the commission anon, and thank you so much for your unwavering patience! this was definitely one of the hardest fics that i’ve worked on, but i hope that it was worth waiting for a year! 💀 

i still have some doubts about the concept of this story, and i know that there will definitely be some peeps that will not enjoy it because of the dynamic, but it's built itself that way just because i wanna make it entertaining in a way, so i hope i’ve done exactly that :)

special thanks to @ggidolsmuts for helping out with proofreading! as he’s the resident oh my girl stan, i had to ask for his touch and this fic would not be alive without his guidance 😔✊🏻

anyways, thank you so much for reading and have a beautiful day up ahead! <33

[spnfic85]

OKAY OKAY OKAY Soooo this has been floating around in my head rent-free for the past few days and today I COULDN'T HELP IT!!!

I thought Oblivious!Reader x Dean Winchester would be presh, but then I wondered what would happen if Dean finally just gave up and kissed the oblivious little creature until she understood. Ah hek. I hope this is okay, but OH GAWD did you inspire me!

Forevermore

Oblivious!Plus-size Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: Minors- DNI, Smut, angst (?)

Word Count: 2804

You looked up at Dean’s emerald greens as they flickered between your confused gaze. Your hands trembled in his as you processed the words he just growled to you in the waning dusk of the small kitchen of your apartment.

“Damnit Y/N- I said I’m in love with you!”

“What do you-” Your words are cut off with Dean’s firm kiss as he frames your jaw in his hands and tentatively drags his tongue feather light across your bottom lip. You gasped, realizing he meant every word and felt your hands tighten on his open flannel as your mouth opened to his invitation.

Your thoughts tumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back with fervor. The flowers on the kitchen counter went ignored as Dean groaned into your mouth and backed you against the edge of the sink as if you’d disappear any moment from his hands.

“Waited so fucking long for this…” He murmured and pressed his forehead to yours as you both gasped for breath in the quiet. Your heart raced in your chest as you thought back to all the times he’s swung by with a coffee or some little trinket from his last hunt. All the times you’ve flushed as he’s mentioned a top he liked on you. You thought he just approved of the band or liked the colors.

He’s just being nice. You’d murmur to yourself, there was no way it was anything else between the pair of you.

He watched out for you like a big brother, right?

“Dean…” You murmured, “I don’t- I don’t understand.” You admitted looking up at him again, brows knit in confusion.

You saw the street light turn on from the kitchen window and you bit your lip as he looked at you gently, “Baby girl, what else do I need to do to prove it to you?” He looked at you in dismay, “I-I’ve tried so many things to show you what you mean to me…” Your heart broke at the loss in his eyes, the pain it inadvertently had caused him.

Your eyes rimmed in stinging tears and you chewed on your bottom lip as you continued to run more and more interactions through your mind. You wanted to scream, you were so mad at yourself for being oblivious to him.

You shook your head, “I can’t believe…” You murmured and he chuckled. The rumble traveled through your chest and you realized you were pressed flush to his torso. You felt your face heat as you turned beet red and you laughed bashfully. Dean’s thumb ran along your cheek as he peeked down to look you in the eye again with a small smile.

“Hey now, don’t get shy on me, baby girl.” Your eyes fluttered up to his and you smiled slightly, “That’s better. I’ve waited too long for you to look at me like that.” He rumbled and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss before pulling away slightly. “I really am in love with you.” He murmurs softly, “Think I’ve been a lot longer than I realized, too.” It was his turn to flush crimson as you laughed softly at his admission.

“I didn’t think you felt that way for me… I just assumed you were being nice or watching out for me because… Because that’s the kind of thing you did, Dean.” You admitted.

Dean deserved your honesty, he deserved that in the least. He had always made sure to drive through your area, stopping in when he was in between hunts. You thought he was just keen on a hot shower and a meal that didn’t come from a drive thru. If anything, the random gifts were small payments or tokens of gratitude, something Dean has done since you two were young.

Dean took your hand and walked you to the couch and sat you down. He looked terrified, and you had only seen that look twice before. Both times he thought he was losing Sammy, struggling to hold on to what he held most dear.

“I’d want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days showing you how much I love you.” He reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You chewed your lip, searching for the crack in his resolve, begging the gods to let this be true. This man opening his soul to you couldn’t be a hallucination, there could be no way… Right…?

Finally, something snapped in you and all at once, you decided to leap head first into whatever Dean had to offer. All at once, something told you this was something you shouldn’t let slip past. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and kissed him desperately while climbing in his lap. You slipped your fingers along the back of his neck, palms framing his face as you rocked your hips into his lap and nipped for more. Dean groaned, hands braced on your plush hips as he pulled you down on his obvious erection.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” He panted, nipping and sucking along your throat and shoulder.

You shook your head and whined softly, pulling at the hair on his nape. He cursed softly and stood with your bottom in his hands, making you squeal, while he marched to your bedroom down the hall.

You gasped as he laid you on your bed, reverently looking over your form as your chest fluttered to catch your breath. You reached up to him, your thighs dropping open in invitation and he felt as if he levitated to you in the bed. His hand shakes softly as he runs it down your side, his palm framing your hip as his other arm braced beside your head to keep his weight off of you.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured softly as you rolled your hips up against his as they rocked into you of their own free will. Your face flushed and you drug your nails gently down his covered shoulders. Dean closed his eyes as he sighed and rocked into you a bit harder. You gasped sharply, lining yourself against him to tease at your sensitive clit.

Your once baggy tee was riding up your torso, as your nipples pebbled against the soft cotton. Dean looked down almost drunkenly as his hand on your hip teased at the hem of your shirt before splaying over your soft belly, inching towards the hidden curve of your breast.

Your hand moved over top of your shirt, as you dragged his hand higher, pulling the shirt with it, until his palm cupped the soft flesh and carefully squeezed. You moaned as his thumb brushed the taut nipple and made your back arch against him. He murmured affirmations as he kissed along your throat, nibbling at your shoulder, before ghosting over your shirt and under it before his mouth wrapped around the tight bud of the breast in his hand as he groaned. You panted, a warm breath fanning over the top of Dean’s head as you looked down as lightning traveled down to the apex of your thighs and settled low in your pelvis.

Dean’s warm mouth kissed across the valley of your chest and settled on your neglected nipple, while his fingers massaged, pinched, and gently twisted at the other. The sound that escaped your throat sounded raw from the attention and he responded in a similar grunt. Your fingers moved over his shoulder, pushing the open flannel down his biceps.

He paused, realizing what you wanted, and sat up on his knees to shrug off the flannel, before reaching over his head to grab the collar of his black tee, and pull it over his head in one fluid move. You watched him wide-eyed as he looked down on you like a starved man.

“May I?” He asked, reaching for the bunched tee above your breasts. You nodded and sat up, slipping your arms free quickly before he advanced on you again. Dean pressed his torso to yours as he kissed you deeply, hands roving every curve, dip, and valley on your body. Your hands shook as they held his shoulders, nails raking down his biceps.

Your hands continued to move down sculpted muscles, snagging on the belt buckle on his jeans. Dean's hands moved along your hips and bottom, making your hands stumble with the buckle as he pulled your hips against his again.

Before you could unbutton his jeans, he slid from your grasp, his hands grabbing the waistband of your leggings. You whined as you felt your face flush at his stare, and he cooed at you how beautiful you were as he tugged your leggings and panties from your frame. When you glanced up at him from under your lashes, your breath was snatched away at the look in Dean’s eyes as he dragged his gaze over your form. A look of yearning, of need, as if he looked upon one of the wonders of the world. Your heart crashed against your ribs as he moved his hands up your thighs, pulling you open and closer to him as he stood on his knees before you in worship.

His moves were deliberate, keeping his eyes locked to yours as his shoulders nestled between your thighs, begging them to open wider. As his soft, full lips moved over your hot core. And you whimpered as his tongue struck out, wide and thick as he dragged a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted before Dean draped an arm over your pelvis to keep you still as he groaned into your sticky wetness. You moaned loudly as he quickly found the tight bundle of nerves and sucked gently. It took little time for your thighs to quake as your climax exploded through you. Dean lapped at you, groaning at the gift your body rewarded him with.

You were so sensitive, you felt your voice shake as you begged him. “Please Dean, please…” You were unsure what you needed, but you knew he was the apex of your ache. He murmured softly as he kissed your inner thigh and gently drew a finger along your slit, covering the digit in your slick. He blew gently on your clit as he sunk his middle finger into you to the knuckle. Your nails bit into his shoulder as you rocked down on his hand with an almost feral moan.

You were vaguely aware of the praises that tumbled out of your mouth as he moved slowly, coaxing your walls to relax and accept his thick finger. His mouth found your clit as he pumped a few times, before his index finger nudged for entrance. The stretch was a delightful burn as you mewled his name breathlessly.

Your body was buzzing from your climax, and it seemed the buzzing grew loudly as you hurtled towards another as he pumped two fingers into your body, curling them inward just right as his tongue ran circles on your clit. Your thighs pressed down on either side of Dean’s head, his shadow of stubble scraping the sensitive flesh, as you felt your walls clamp down on his digits and your body thrashed as wave after wave crashed over your body in euphoria. Your sight flared bright white along the edges as you screamed his name in your dark apartment.

You heard a bang on the wall across your room and you flushed in embarrassment as Dean chuckled and lapped gently at your folds. “Don’t be embarrassed baby girl. Let them know who makes you feel like this…” He smirked wickedly at you, pulling his fingers from your core. You whimpered at the empty feeling it left you but he shushed you softly as he pressed the two fingers to your swollen lips. You looked up at him in silent understanding and let your jaw drop, sucking the two slick fingers in your mouth. “Fu-uck Baby Girl…” He murmured as you closed your eyes for a moment to imagine yourself cleaning another part of him in this manner. You pulled from his fingers with a pop and let your mouth hang open slightly as he drew his middle finger over your bottom lip. “Gonna find out what that pretty mouth feels like later… Don’t think I can wait much longer right now though…” His voice was a deep umber, molten iron through your veins. A shiver spiked down your spine and radiated through your belly.

“Please Dean…” You murmur, “Please…” Your hands drag down his torso, catching on the button to his jeans again. He stared at you entranced, before nodding dumbly. His hands met yours as he helped unbutton the jeans with ease. You bit your lip as you finally freed his member and gasped softly. You had heard him joke on more than one occasion with his brother or friends that he was well endowed. That he had earned his cocky confidence with women when he had a roll in the hay. But no jokes had prepared you for what he was now displaying to you.

He was thick, long, and uncut. It twitched heavily under your watchful gaze and you looked up at him breathless once your eyes raced the length of veins. You pulled the jeans and boxers down his thick thighs before your lips crashed into his again as Dean laid you back down on the bed. His hips nestled between your thighs made you both sigh at the rightness you felt.

This was where Dean was meant to be. Your souls sang as he kissed you deeply. You dropped one of your hands between your bodies and gently dragged your fingers over the firm shaft. You rocked your hips slightly before lining him to your entrance. Dean nibbled at your throat as he thrust towards you carefully and felt your tight heat envelop him. You panted softly as your body accepted him, with each thrust bringing you closer together.

Dean moved slowly, reverently, as he kissed your lips as if you were his very breath itself. You clung to him as he rolled his hips into yours and ground against your sensitive bud. Your nails bit Dean’s back as he carefully picked up the pace. Your thighs moved high on his waist, as your moans filled the air along with the squelch of your body taking everything Dean offered you.

“So perfect Baby Girl,” He groaned, “Everything I prayed for, you’re it Baby.”

You whimpered, words long lost as he picked up the pace and started to pound into you as your walls clenched around his girth. Dean cursed as he felt your climax threaten to envelop you both as his mouth latched on a rigid nipple's bud as his hands gripped your thighs open, pressing your knees to each side of your chest.

You cried out as your back arched, your legs shook, and your walls clamped down on Dean, making it impossible to pull away. He groaned and ground into you, his pelvis smashing down on your bud as he came hard. You realized you were chanting his name as you came down, arms wrapped around his shoulders as you both panted hard as you caught your breath. Dean didn’t move from you as he peppered you with butterfly soft kisses as he murmured praises. Your fingers ran through his now damp hair as he settled a bit above you, leaning on one arm as he looked down at you in amazement.

“I should have done this forever ago…” He murmured with a wry grin. You laughed softly and nodded before kissing the big idiot above you and pulling him down into the bed.

Neither of you missed the grumbled complaint from the apartment over and you flushed crimson. “Mister Jenkins probably hates me now.” You murmured bashfully.

Dean scoffed and shook his head, “It’s impossible to hate you,” He murmured and kissed your nose, “But he definitely doesn’t like me now.” He chuckled with a smug grin.

You shushed him and smiled as he pulled you close to him, arms wrapping around you as you both got comfortable. He took a deep breath in before kissing the crown of your head, “Please never wonder if I love you Baby Girl… You are my world, forever and always.” He murmured softly in the dark.

You smiled into his chest and kissed over his heart, “My heart is yours forevermore.” You murmured as you felt sleep pull you away from the conversation. Your senses were filled with the man you adored, a fanciful thought actually fulfilled as you lay in his arms. And to imagine- this was real, this man really loved you… You wouldn’t waste another moment with him, never again.

Masterlist

my favorite fucking trope is chubby!reader living your life completely oblivious to the fact that the literal man of your dreams is in love with you and you're none the wiser.

like - you just traipse through life like "well he wouldn't like me back so it's wtv" all nonchalant and shit while the poor man is literally falling over himself trying to get it through your head that HEYYY that's not right??? i'm literally in love with you??? i worship the ground you walk on???? i'll do whatever you want????

and bless your heart, you see every single time he tries to hit on you as an act of kindness:

"awww, he got me (insert fav food here) cus i said i was hungry, what a nice guy!"

"he complimented my outfit! he must've liked the color of my shirt!"

"wow, he seems to be zoning out a lot, i hope he's okay!" (he's been staring at your lips for the past five minutes)

and he just... doesn't know what to do to make you see what he sees.

like you're so gorgeous and funny and why wouldn't he like you??

he's convinced that if he were to stand in front of you and tell you he loves you, you'd be like, "I love you too! you're such a good friend!"

(which has happened before and a little part of him died inside)

it literally takes him everything in his power to make you realize his feelings, and you just stand there for a moment, seemingly connecting the dots over the past few months, and all you can come up with is a small, dumb, "oh."

lord give him the strength.