#and the other boy has been coming out for treats and staring at me while i clean their litterboxes :)

[valentine-cafe]

 ˖⁺. “ darling, can I be your favourite ? ” : 

﹙ brother's best friend!grim reaper x fem reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

 . . . verse 9948e jìngyí x fem reader !! 🍒 : ﹙  grim reaper ˖ himbo character﹚

your brother's best friend is such an idiot - yet for some reason you can't stop staring at his d-d-d- face!

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ brother's best friend trope ˖ size difference ˖ penetrative sex ˖ wet dreams ˖ caught masturbating ˖ rough sex ˖ dirty talk ˖  fingering ˖ risky sex ˖ face riding  | wc : 1.6k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: been wanting to write something like this for sooooo long <3 this will be a series

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you view as just a silly himbo. You hear his loud laughing downstairs and cannot help but roll your eyes before you stuff your face back into your book. You watch how he steals your brother’s food and childishly insists it’s because he’s ‘growing.’ How he is so hellbent on that damn gym . . . why does he need any more muscle? He has plenty! You would know, you’ve stared at his arms, his toned v-line when he stretches, the way his body flexes subconsciously while he is doing everyday tasks.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who is the height of irritation with how he jokes and pokes fun at you though. How he ruffles your hair up or snatches your phone and holds it over your head. He’s known you since all of you were kids, it’s his duty to bully you like a big brother would, he claims! You wanna throw something at him. A chair. Yourself.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you find to be so annoying, but is such a sweetheart around you! Always asks if you are doing alright, holds doors open and pulls out chairs for you. You snuck out to a party and didn’t want your brother to know and needed someone to come pick you up; Jìngyí was there. He carries the grocery bags for you if he catches you slaving your way along. He’s always there to offer you a lift. Everything. So why do you hate him so? It’s all playful, fun and games, it’s always been like that. Recently, you feel it becoming more genuine. Maybe it’s because. . .

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who has no idea that you have started dreaming about him. About those large, strong hands on your thighs. How they might squeeze and stretch you open. Just like how he’ll stretch you out on his cock. You know that he is big - you accidentally walked in on him changing. You wished your courage won and you threw yourself to his lap. But he’s so stupid! Would he even know how to please a girl?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who caught you humping at your pillow. Ass flushed to your heels as you scrunch the sheets in front of you. The constant rock of your hips that gave him the perfect view of a wet patch forming on your panties. Were you grinding on a vibe? Seems like it. But what shot straight to his dick is the way you were moaning his name. Laced with cusses, pleads, ridicules. How dare he make you feel like this, how dare he make you want his cock soooo badly?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who fucks you over that same pillow since you wanna whine so much. He spanks a broad hand on your thigh and yanks you back on every thrust. Watches how your flesh ripples as his cockhead bullies your cervix. He’s even bigger when he’s hard. Meaner too.

“Such a messy pussy you have here baby. She think of me a lot?”

Where’s the stupid, sweet boy you’ve known for years? Behind you. Hips grinding on your ass while his cock splits you open. A part of you wishes you could see how your gummy walls spasm and strain around the base of his dick, coated with a ring of cream at the base.

The vibrator has become his partner in crime. With the way Jìngyí weighs down on your poor, quivering body, your puffy clit humps against the pillow and pink vibe with every thrust. It makes your jaw drop as your drool coats the dark sheets that your fingers fist.

“J-Jìng - hhhh - J- pleeaaaa - hah!” You’d hate to say it, but you are being outmatched. Your pitiful cries are nothing in comparison to the wet squelches and slobbers of your fluttering cunt. She cries for him like he came back from war. Clings to him as though she wants to remember his shape for the rest of her life. And he sees that. He delights in it.

His voice, once hearty and light, now rumbles deep sins as he hunches over your prone position. “Sooooo wet for me. Yeah? Ah, so wet for your brother’s best friend? Yeah baby?” If anyone were to walk in, surely they wouldn’t see you at all. Only Jìngyí’s broad back and flexed arms. His hands cage your head and show the sheets on either side of your face no mercy either. The same way his balls smack against your swollen cunt like a punishment. A cum-filled reprimand.

“Y’know. . . I was beginning t’think youu hated me,”

He huffs out a laugh. Ragged. A groan quickly follows after and his hand retreats from the sheets to instead slam down on your jiggling thigh. Clap! It reaches under and grips onto your squished breast after. All the more leverage to fuck into you like an animal.

He sounds like one too. His heavy pants and deep grunts. “But thas’ not the - ah fucckk such a sweet pussy - not the case, huh? No. . .” His cold lips drag down the heat of your neck. Your scent is a drug he’s already hooked on. What more than to sink his teeth in?

“No. You ‘ere just - just pent up. Just cock hungry.” His chest crushes against your back. His thrusts shallow into messy, ruthless humps. Squeezing silky strings of cum and staining the sheets further. You’ll have to get ‘em all washed unless you want a cross-question from brother dearest.

“G-Gonna c- hic - gonna - Jìngyí - g-gonna ‘um-!”

“Y-You still remember how to?”

Damn him and his teases. Damn him and the way he’s made you dumb on his dick. You’re made acutely aware of just how strong he is. Guess those long-strung gym sessions count towards something.

Seems so with the way he flips you over like you weigh nothing. Brace your legs with his arms and shove them back. All the while his hips keep slamming against yours as though he’ll shatter if he stops. His filthy mouth sure as hell doesn’t stop either. Nice to see he still cannot shut up even when he’s ball’s deep inside of you.

He strikes you a grin. Maroon irises shrunk. He’s attacking your neck with kisses and making you see stars with every pummel of his cock. Every smear of his cum and yours all over your walls.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who explains it’s because he was ashamed. He thought he overstepped. He didn’t want to hurt you! He loves you, loved feeling you all over his hands and body. Fuck, he’s still dreaming of it. “Please don’t be mad at me - I just - I just . . . want to make sure you okay,” he pouts.

Of course you cum again. He can’t expect you not to when he’s fucking your cunt into next week. This time you claw at his broad shoulders and wretch a sob. In turn he groans and stuffs you full. He simply has to plug you up while you’re squirting all over. With a small click of his tongue and a - “messy girl.”

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who distanced himself after that day. You couldn’t believe it. He pounded you raw and now left like you hadn’t cum on his dick ten times and over? You confront him on it. Bunch up his shirt and yank him down to give him a piece of your mind. He was many things but you didn’t know he was a dog - why is he looking at you with puppy eyes?

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who you ride the face of in the empty gym bathroom as compensation for jumping to conclusions. He was sooo grateful for the sweet taste of your pussy smearing all over his face. You quickly learn that his tongue is just as devious. It fucks up into you like it’s his damn life’s mission. His lips suck on your clit like candy. His eyes roll back as though the mere feel of you grinding down on his face is gonna make him bust then and there - ( it did )

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who has to contain himself whenever he visits your brother. He adores your brother to bits, he does, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him that the real reason he is visiting is because of those pretty skirts and tight shorts you have suddenly, conveniently, started wearing around the house. He will tell you however. Grunt it in your ear as he gives you a quick fingering over the kitchen sink when he came to ‘help you with the dishes’ while your brother ventured off upstairs after dinner. He makes sure to tell you what a whore you are while his fingers are pumping you to shaky knees and cum on the kitchen floor.

Brother’s friend Jìngyí !! 🍒 : who knows it’s wrong. You’re his friend’s little sister! But he wants you so bad. Needs you even more. He’ll settle for your warm pussy and drooling cries for now; but he wants to take you out on a actual date soon. Maybe to eat. So that he can show you that he wants more than just the squeeze of you around his cock - but your heart as well.

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[mothbaaalls]

I GOT TO PET ONE OF THE FERAL BOYS

*SICKOS MEME* HAHAHA YEEEEESSSSS

[goldfades]

TROUBLE ─── RAFE CAMERON

request for blurb night! : "ev, hear me out—reader is sarah’s best friend who used to babysit wheezie. she's always thought rafe was just some spoiled rich kid until one night he helps her out of a dangerous situation, and she see a different side of him"

The sound of cicadas swells in the sticky summer air as you maneuver your car into the Camerons’ circular driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The house stands before you, grand and overbearing, like something pulled straight from a Southern Gothic novel. Even after all these years, it still has a way of making you feel out of place, like you’re trespassing on a life far removed from your own.

You killed the engine and take a deep breath, your hands lingering on the steering wheel. Coming here used to feel second nature—a daily part of your routine back when you were just Sarah’s friend who needed extra cash and Wheezie was a chatty eight-year-old who never seemed to run out of energy.

Now, it feels complicated. It’s not like you’re unwelcome here—Rose is always polite in her distant, Stepford kind of way, and Wheezie practically lights up whenever she sees you. Sarah treats you like family, but there’s always been one Cameron who makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.

Rafe.

Spoiled, sharp-tongued, entitled Rafe, whose condescending smirk had been a permanent fixture of your teenage years. The golden boy with a black hole of a temper, a trust fund, and an ego that stretched for miles. You’d never understood him, and frankly, you’d never wanted to. He was a hurricane you learned to avoid at all costs, never lingering too long in his orbit.

But life has a funny way of pulling you into places you swore you’d never go.

You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out into the muggy heat, your sandals crunching against the gravel. Somewhere inside the house, you hear the faint echo of laughter—Wheezie, probably, shouting at Sarah over a card game or some other nonsense. The sound makes you smile despite yourself.

You weren’t always someone the Camerons—or anyone from Figure Eight, for that matter—gave the time of day. Growing up, you were just another Pogue, another kid from the Cut with hand-me-down clothes and a chip on your shoulder. The people from Sarah’s world weren’t interested in you back then. Why would they be? You had nothing they wanted—no yacht, no country club membership, no sprawling waterfront property. You didn’t mind much. You had your own circle, your own rhythm, and you learned to brush off the condescending stares whenever you ventured into their territory.

But everything changed when your dad’s business took off. What started as a small, bare-bones construction company turned into one of the most in-demand firms in the Outer Banks almost overnight. Suddenly, the same people who used to look through you like you were invisible started remembering your name. Invitations to parties you’d never have been considered for started showing up in your mailbox. They weren’t just tolerating you—they wanted you there.

Sarah was one of the first to genuinely befriend you during that whirlwind of change. She wasn’t like the others, who only smiled at you because their parents said it was polite or because they wanted a favor from your dad. She liked you for you—your sarcasm, your groundedness, your tendency to keep it real in a place where everyone else seemed to be faking something. And through Sarah, you met Wheezie.

Wheezie was eight at the time, still caught between childhood and whatever it is that happens when you grow up as a Cameron. She adored you from the start, trailing behind you whenever you came over like a little shadow. You didn’t mind. She was funny, curious, and refreshingly unfiltered—a lot more like the kids from the Cut than anyone wanted to admit.

When Rose offhandedly mentioned they needed someone to look after Wheezie while she was busy managing the house (or hosting one of her endless charity luncheons), Sarah volunteered you without hesitation. “She’s perfect,” Sarah had said with that trademark confidence of hers, as though your schedule had already been cleared.

To your surprise, it worked out. Wheezie loved you, probably because you didn’t treat her like a chore or talk down to her like so many others did. You indulged her weird little interests, let her ramble on about books and whatever new drama she overheard in the house. You made her laugh.

And if the Camerons noticed you weren’t exactly one of their own, they didn’t seem to mind much anymore. After all, in their world, proximity to success was enough to erase just about anything.

Even after a couple years had passed, it’s a little funny how much has stayed the same. Every time you pull into the Camerons’ driveway, you still get the same sinking feeling, like you’re stepping onto foreign soil without a passport. Except now, it’s become a routine. Cameron game nights.

It started as an extension of the babysitting gig—a casual invite from Sarah, insisting you stay for dinner one night after watching Wheezie. Dinner turned into a board game that Sarah claimed was “super quick,” which turned into three hours of family chaos. It was ridiculous, overly competitive, and a little awkward with Rose monitoring everything like a referee, but Wheezie loved having you there, and Sarah was relentless in making sure you felt included.

At some point, it just became normal. Even after Wheezie grew out of needing a babysitter, the tradition stuck. Every week or two, Sarah would text you about game night, and somehow, you always said yes.

“You’re like an honorary Cameron,” Sarah had joked once, and you’d laughed because the idea of that felt ridiculous. But there were moments, like now, when you almost believed her.

Wheezie’s voice echoes from the living room the second you step through the door. “You’re late!”

“I’m literally on time,” you call back, closing the door behind you. The smell of freshly baked something wafts through the air, probably cookies Wheezie convinced Rose to make under the guise of a family bonding activity.

“Technically, Rafe’s late,” Sarah says, popping her head around the corner, already grinning. “You’re just cutting it close. Come on, Wheezie’s already plotting your downfall.”

You laugh and follow her into the living room, where the familiar chaos is already brewing. Wheezie’s sprawled across the couch, a pile of board game pieces spread out in front of her, while Ward sits in his chair, sipping a scotch like it’s all beneath him but still keeping a hawk’s eye on the rules. Rose flits between the kitchen and the table, not-so-casually reminding everyone to keep the snacks on coasters.

And then there’s Rafe.

He’s leaning back in one of the armchairs, his legs stretched out like he owns the place—which, technically, he does. A half-smirk tugs at his lips as he spins a stray game token between his fingers. He barely glances at you when you walk in, but you catch the faintest flicker of recognition.

It’s been years, but Rafe is still Rafe: cocky, restless, and way too pretty for his own good. He’s toned down some of the more obvious brattiness since the early days, but the edge is still there, sharp enough to cut if you’re not careful.

And, as always, you do your best to steer clear.

The quiet hum of the boutique fades behind you as you pull the glass door shut, twisting the key to lock it. The click echoes in the empty street, a sharp sound against the stillness of downtown this late at night. The once-bustling sidewalks are deserted now, the streetlights casting uneven pools of orange on the pavement. Most of the shops had closed hours ago, their dark windows reflecting the faint shimmer of the moon.

You adjust the strap of your bag over your shoulder and glance at your phone. 11:43 p.m. Later than you’d intended. It wasn’t your shift to close, but your coworker had begged you to cover for her last minute, and you couldn’t say no. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You’ve done this before. Downtown isn’t that bad, and your car is parked just a block away. Still, there’s something unnerving about the silence, the way the shadows stretch a little too far when you’re alone.

Reaching your car—a trusty but aging sedan that you inherited from your dad—you fumble with the keys before sliding into the driver’s seat. The interior smells faintly of the vanilla air freshener you keep on the rearview mirror, a comforting contrast to the chilly night air outside. You toss your bag onto the passenger seat, then grip the steering wheel as you turn the key in the ignition.

Nothing.

You pause, frowning. That’s… odd. Your car’s old, sure, but it’s never been completely unresponsive. You twist the key again, harder this time, willing it to come to life.

Still nothing.

A low groan escapes your throat as you lean back against the seat. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. Not here.

You pull out your phone, half-tempted to call Sarah or even your dad, but you hesitate. Sarah’s probably asleep by now, and your dad’s a good thirty minutes away—not to mention, he’d definitely give you a lecture about not keeping up with the car’s maintenance. Sighing, you pop the hood and step out into the cool night air, shivering slightly as a gust of wind cuts through your jacket.

The street around you is unnervingly quiet. A stray cat darts across the road, its shadow flickering under the streetlights. You glance around, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. It’s just your imagination, you tell yourself. No one’s here.

With a deep breath, you lift the hood and stare down at the engine like it might magically fix itself. You know a grand total of nothing about cars, but you wiggle a few cables anyway, hoping for a miracle. When you try the ignition again, the result is the same—silence, save for the faint hum of a streetlamp overhead.

Panic starts to creep in now, slow and steady. Your phone’s battery is hovering at 10%, and downtown—normally picturesque and charming by day—feels like a completely different place at night. The empty windows of the closed shops look less quaint and more sinister, their dark interiors like gaping mouths.

You lean back against the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as you weigh your options. Call someone? Walk to the gas station a few blocks down? Stay here and wait it out? None of them sound appealing, especially with the growing sensation that you’re being watched. You tell yourself it’s just nerves, but your skin prickles anyway, and you can’t help but glance over your shoulder every few seconds.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath. “This is how horror movies start.”

You huff out a shaky breath and decide to at least look under the hood. Not that you know what you’re doing, but it’s better than standing here like a sitting duck. Popping the latch, you step out into the cool night air again, every sound amplified in the unsettling quiet. Your shoes scrape against the pavement as you walk to the front of the car, lifting the hood and leaning over the engine.

The faint metallic scent of oil hits your nose as you peer into the mess of cables and parts. It all looks like a foreign language to you, but you fiddle with a few wires anyway, hoping for some kind of miracle.

That’s when you hear it—footsteps.

At first, you think maybe it’s nothing, just your imagination running wild, but then you hear them again, deliberate and getting closer. Your stomach clenches, and you straighten up, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

Two figures are walking toward you from the opposite side of the street, their strides slow and unhurried. The dim streetlights reveal faces you vaguely recognize—Kooks, no doubt, probably from the same parties Sarah used to drag you to back in high school. Their names escape you, but the looks on their faces don’t—grins too wide, eyes too sharp, the kind of predatory energy that sets every nerve in your body on edge.

“Car trouble?” the taller one calls out, his voice carrying an edge of amusement as they stop a few feet away.

You force a tight smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, I’ve got it handled. Thanks.”

The shorter one, stockier and wearing a backward baseball cap, steps closer, tilting his head like he doesn’t believe you. “Doesn’t look like it,” he says. His tone is casual, but the way his eyes flick over you makes your skin crawl.

“I’m fine,” you insist, taking a small step back toward the car. Your heart is pounding now, a sick thrum in your chest, but you keep your expression as neutral as possible.

“Hey, we’re just trying to help,” the taller one says, holding up his hands like he’s harmless, but there’s something almost mocking in his tone. “No need to be rude.”

The stocky one smirks, moving to your other side, effectively boxing you in against the car. “Yeah, we’re just being friendly.”

The air feels heavy, oppressive, and the space between you and them feels like it’s shrinking by the second. You can feel the tension in their postures, the way they’re both leaning in slightly, testing how far they can push.

Your throat tightens as you glance around, desperate for someone, anyone to come walking down the street. But there’s no one—just you and these two strangers who clearly don’t care that you’re uncomfortable.

“Look,” you say, trying to sound firm but calm, “I appreciate it, but I’m good. You don’t need to stick around.”

The taller one laughs, a low, unpleasant sound that makes your stomach churn. “Aw, come on. You’re out here all alone. What kind of gentlemen would we be if we just left you like this?”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the hood, your mind racing for a way out. You consider making a run for it, but they’re too close now, their presence suffocating.

Just as the stockier one steps even closer, his grin widening, a voice cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding.

“What’s going on here?”

The relief is instant and overwhelming, like a lifeline being thrown to you in a raging sea. You turn toward the sound, and there he is—Rafe Cameron, standing just a few feet away, his hands shoved casually into his pockets but his posture rigid, his eyes hard as they lock onto the two guys.

The taller one straightens up immediately, his smirk faltering. “Rafe,” he says, a weak attempt at sounding friendly.

Rafe doesn’t respond, his gaze shifting to you for the briefest moment before snapping back to them. “Didn’t realize we were having a party,” he says, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous. “You two invited?”

The stockier guy takes a step back, muttering something under his breath. “We were just leaving,” he says quickly, his bravado crumbling under Rafe’s glare.

“Yeah, you are,” Rafe says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The two exchange uneasy glances before slinking away, their footsteps echoing down the street until they disappear around the corner.

For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your heartbeat and the faint hum of Rafe’s truck idling in the distance.

“You good?” Rafe asks, his voice softer now but still steady, grounding.

You nod, your throat dry as you manage to croak out, “Yeah… I am now.”

Rafe watches the shadows where the two guys disappeared, his expression unreadable, his jaw tight. You half expect him to say something cutting, maybe some sarcastic remark about how you can’t take care of yourself, but when he finally looks at you, there’s no smugness. Only something... softer, almost hesitant.

“You’re lucky I saw you,” he says, his voice low. “That could’ve gone bad. Fast.”

You nod, your throat still tight from the tension of the moment. He’s right. You don’t even want to think about how that could’ve ended if he hadn’t shown up. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe’s brow furrows like he’s surprised you said it. He leans back slightly, glancing at the car hood still propped open. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

“Won’t start,” you reply, gesturing vaguely at the engine. “Not that I’d know what to look for.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up just slightly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t expect you to.” His tone lacks the usual edge, though—it’s not a dig, just a statement.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there in the quiet. The night air feels less suffocating now, the earlier tension replaced by a strange calm. Despite everything you know—or think you know—about Rafe Cameron, there’s something about his presence right now that makes you feel… safe. It’s unsettling, in its own way.

“You should be more careful,” Rafe says, breaking the silence. His gaze is steady, not mocking or judgmental, just serious. “Downtown this late? Alone? That’s asking for trouble.”

You bristle slightly, your instinct to defend yourself flaring up. “I didn’t exactly plan for my car to break down.”

He raises an eyebrow, but instead of snapping back, he just nods. “Fair.”

The quiet stretches between you again, but this time, it’s not uncomfortable. Rafe steps closer, peering under the hood with a practiced air, and you’re struck by how uncharacteristically gentle he seems. No biting remarks, no smug superiority—just calm focus.

He taps a cable lightly, muttering something under his breath, then steps back, closing the hood with a decisive thud. “Battery’s probably dead,” he says, glancing at you. “You need a jump.”

You nod, your nerves finally starting to settle. “I guess I’ll call someone.”

“Don’t bother,” he says, already walking toward his truck. “I’ve got cables.”

You blink, caught off guard by his matter-of-fact tone. He’s not offering—he’s telling you he’s going to help. And for some reason, you don’t argue.

A few minutes later, Rafe has his truck pulled up nose-to-nose with your car, the cables stretched taut between them. He works in silence, his movements efficient, and you watch from the sidelines, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“You should get in,” he says, nodding toward the driver’s seat.

You do as he says, sliding back into the familiar confines of your car. The moment feels oddly intimate—just the two of you on this empty street, the hum of his truck filling the air.

“Try it now,” he calls out, stepping back.

You turn the key, but instead of the engine sputtering to life, it lets out a defeated whine and falls silent again. You try one more time, your chest tightening with frustration and dread, but it’s no use. The car isn’t going anywhere tonight.

You let your forehead drop against the steering wheel with a groan. Of course. Just your luck.

Rafe’s voice cuts through the night air, low and steady. “It’s not gonna work. Battery’s dead for real.”

You sit up, pressing your lips together as he leans against the open driver’s side door, his arms crossed. His expression is unreadable, somewhere between amusement and mild concern.

“Great,” you mutter. “So, what now? I call a tow truck and wait here till dawn?”

Rafe tilts his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before landing on your car again. “Or,” he says, “I could just drive you home.”

The offer catches you off guard, and you hesitate, your immediate instinct to say no. Riding home with Rafe Cameron? That’s about as far outside your comfort zone as you can imagine.

But then you glance down at your nearly dead phone, the empty street around you, and the sheer impossibility of getting a tow out here tonight. What other choice do you have?

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Rafe shrugs, the motion easy, like it’s no big deal. “You got a better plan?”

You don’t.

“Fine,” you say finally, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and climbing out of the car. The night air feels colder now, pressing against your skin as you walk toward his truck.

Rafe opens the passenger door for you without a word, and you slide in, the faint scent of leather and cologne filling the cab. It’s clean but lived-in—practical, not flashy, which surprises you.

He climbs in on the driver’s side, pulling the door shut and starting the engine with a smooth turn of the key. The sound is steady, reliable, and for a moment, you envy how effortlessly everything in his life seems to work.

The first few minutes of the drive are quiet, the only sound the low hum of the truck and the occasional creak of the suspension as it rolls over uneven pavement. You glance out the window, watching the darkened storefronts blur past, trying to ignore the strange tension sitting between you.

“You gonna sit there and sulk the whole way?” Rafe asks, his voice breaking the silence.

“I’m not sulking,” you shoot back, turning to glare at him.

He smirks, his eyes still on the road. “Sure you’re not.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just… processing the fact that my car officially hates me. And that I had to be rescued by you of all people.”

His smirk softens into something closer to a smile, and for once, it doesn’t look mocking. “Yeah, well, it’s your lucky night, I guess.”

You roll your eyes but don’t respond, and the quiet settles over the truck again. It’s not entirely uncomfortable this time—just strange, like you’re both trying to figure out how to navigate this unexpected moment.

After a while, Rafe glances over at you, his expression more serious now. “You really shouldn’t be out here alone like that,” he says quietly.

You shift in your seat, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “I didn’t exactly plan for my car to break down,” you mumble.

“Still,” he says, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. “Things could’ve gone bad. You know that, right?”

You do. The memory of those guys, their leering smiles and the way they cornered you, is still fresh in your mind. A shiver runs through you, and you glance at Rafe, his profile sharp in the dim light from the dashboard.

“Thanks,” you say, softer this time. “For stepping in.”

His jaw tenses for a moment before he nods. “Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the drive passes in a blur of streetlights and quiet conversation. When he finally pulls up outside your house, you feel an odd sense of disappointment, like the night is ending too soon.

Rafe cuts the engine and looks over at you, his expression unreadable again. “You good?”

You nod, your fingers curling around the strap of your bag. “Yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

He hesitates, his eyes searching yours for a moment, and you swear you see something uncharacteristically soft in his gaze. “Anytime,” he says, his voice low.

You climb out of the truck, turning back as you reach your front door. Rafe is still there, leaning slightly out of the window, watching you with an intensity that sends a strange flutter through your chest.

“Night, Rafe,” you call out, your voice steadier than you feel.

He nods once, his smirk returning, but there’s a warmth to it now that wasn’t there before. “Night.”

You watch as he drives off, the tail lights disappearing down the street, and you can’t shake the feeling that tonight, something shifted. Something you didn’t see coming.

The living room is alive with laughter and the sugary smell of freshly microwaved popcorn. Wheezie is sprawled across the couch, her legs tangled in a blanket as she debates the finer points of the movie you’ve just paused, while Sarah snorts beside her, throwing a handful of popcorn in her sister’s direction.

You sit cross-legged on the floor, sipping from your drink and soaking in the warmth of the moment. It feels good to let your guard down like this—to laugh and tease and forget for a little while.

“Okay, but how does she not realize he’s the bad guy?” Wheezie demands, gesturing dramatically at the screen.

“Because she’s blinded by love,” Sarah says, grinning. “Or maybe she’s just as dumb as you are.”

“Excuse me?” Wheezie gasps, clutching her chest in mock offense.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know. I feel like if someone was being that obvious about being evil, I’d notice.”

“Would you, though?” Sarah teases, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey!” you protest, chucking a stray pillow at her.

The playful banter continues, the night stretching on in a haze of easy conversation and snack-fueled chaos. You’re halfway through arguing over which movie to watch next when the sound of the front door opening pulls your attention.

You glance toward the entryway just as Rafe steps inside, his hair slightly mussed, his keys jingling in his hand. He pauses when he sees you all, his expression flickering from mild surprise to something unreadable.

“What’s this?” he asks, his voice carrying that familiar mix of curiosity and amusement. “A girls’ night?”

“Yeah,” Sarah says, throwing a popcorn kernel at him. “And you’re not invited.”

“Tragic,” Rafe deadpans, stepping fully into the room. His eyes flick to you for a split second, and your stomach does an unexpected flip.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just residual nerves from the other night. Nothing to do with the way his presence seems to fill the space or the way his gaze lingers just long enough to make your cheeks heat.

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t worry, I’m not staying.”

“Good,” Sarah says. “Bye.”

He ignores her, pushing off the frame and heading toward the kitchen instead.

“I’m getting more popcorn,” you announce quickly, needing a reason to escape the sudden heat prickling at your skin. You grab the empty bowl and dart toward the kitchen before anyone can respond.

The kitchen is cooler, quieter, and you exhale a sigh of relief as you cross to the counter. You’re halfway through scooping kernels into a bowl when you hear the low hum of Rafe’s voice behind you.

“Didn’t know you were here tonight.”

You jump slightly, glancing over your shoulder to find him leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, well,” you say, turning back to the task at hand, “I’m kind of a regular around here.”

“I’ve noticed,” he says, his tone light but edged with something that makes your stomach flutter.

You keep your focus on the popcorn, refusing to let him get to you. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Only when they’re interesting,” he shoots back smoothly.

You roll your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “Interesting? That’s a stretch.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm. “I don’t think so.”

His voice is closer now, and you glance up to find him standing beside you, his gaze fixed on your face. You freeze, your fingers tightening slightly around the bowl as you try to think of something—anything—to say.

“Relax,” he says, his lips quirking up into a grin. “You look like you’re about to run out of here.”

“I’m not,” you insist, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

He leans in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I was starting to think I might scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” you say quickly, your voice a touch too defensive.

“Hmm.” His smirk deepens, and he leans back, giving you just enough space to breathe again. “If you say so.”

With that, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge and steps away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder as he heads toward the stairs.

“Goodnight, trouble,” he calls out, his tone teasing but soft enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You stand there for a moment, staring after him, your heart racing and your face burning.

By the time you return to the living room with the popcorn, Wheezie and Sarah are too busy laughing at some inside joke to notice how flustered you are. You settle back into your spot on the floor, your mind still replaying the way Rafe’s voice sounded when he called you trouble.

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[weakformingyu]

Everything has changed | H.J.

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Summary: in a game party you find out that your friend, Jisung, might have a crush on you and after that night you might have developed a crush on him too.

Warnings: Han is a loser, awkwardness, jealousy, pool sex 💅🏻, pussy eating, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), a bit of handjob.

Words count: ±3,400

THIS CONTENT IS FOR +18 PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: I have some weird ass writers block right now(have been like this for months 😭) but I'm not dead, I'm still alive and thinking about a hundred fics a day, I just don't seem to manage to write them 🤓☝🏻 anyways, this fic was inspired in this post because Han Jisung got some crazy biceps going on here and I'm on my biceps biting era soooo 💅🏻(don't come for me if it's trashy, I haven't written in a hundred years)

If you like my writing don't forget to reblog, comment and like too. xoxo love yall

“What do you think about Jisung?” Was the question Changbin asked when you chose truth in the game of truth or dare you were playing.

You smile sheepishly as all the boys stare at you excitedly and the girls have a little smirk on their lips, as if everyone knows something you don't.

“Hm, he's nice”, you shrug.

“You know that's not what he meant”, Ryujin says, raising a brow.

“Well, then be more specific”, you roll your eyes.

“Would you fuck him?” Karina asks, making the whole group gasp with her bluntness. Your eyes dart to Jisung, who's as red as a tomato, his bottom lips are stuck between his teeth while he stares at you anxiously.

“That's- I never thought about that, so I'm not sure”, you answer nervously. Seeing Jisung’s shoulders go down and a pout form in his lips.

“Then, there's your answer”, Karina shrugs, turning the bottle so someone else can go.

You were being truthful, you never thought about your friend in that way. You know he's handsome but you always avoid having second intentions with someone so close to you because you don't want to lose a friendship.

However, after that day and after seeing Jisung's reaction to your answer, you can't shake the feeling that maybe he's into you. You constantly catch his gaze lingering on you, when you guys are alone he keeps stuttering and even when your other friends are around, he treats you differently from them.

A few weekends after that night, Chan invites everyone to a get together in his house so everyone's going to sleep there after. Karina, Ryujin and Lia stop by your house in the early afternoon to get you so you can all go to Chan's together. When you get there, the guys are in the pool playing some sort of game, Felix and Changbin are on top of two floats, fighting while Minho is attacking Changbin with his water gun and Jisung is in the middle of both.

You stop in your tracks, watching as Jisung holds Changbins thighs, his biceps are deliciously showing and flexing as the older man falls out of the float and the younger one catches him, grabbing his bottom slightly but you can't help but wish you could be the one being grabbed by him like that.

Yes, you weren't lying that night when you said you had never thought about Jisung in that way. The problem is, that after you did, you couldn't stop. Everything he did from that night onwards caught your attention. His eyes on you, his lips, the way he smirks when someone says something dirty and he thinks no one's paying attention. The way every piece of fabric he wears hugs his body like it was made just for him. Your girlfriends are already onto you, they know something is off and they have the feeling that you finally opened your eyes to the puppy in love in your group of friends, but they decided not to say anything for now, afraid that they are going to scare you off and make you bury your new found attraction for Jisung deep in your heart, afraid to ruin your friendship.

You shake your head, listening to what the others are talking while you go inside to put your things in the guestroom Chan has prepared for you.

You spend the afternoon mostly just sunbathing while observing the guys joking around and other people arrive little by little taking your attention away from the pool.

While you eat, you can't help but notice a blonde laughing too loudly, catching your attention. She pushes Jisung playfully, throwing her head back, making you huff annoyed, you're sure what he said isn't even that funny.

“I'm gonna get some more beer, does anyone want something from the kitchen?” Jisung gets up, asking around.

“I'll help”, the blonde smiles, following him after some people ask for their beverage of choice and your eyes linger on his figure, as he walks away with the beautiful girl.

“Oh, y/n, can you get some more napkins for us?” Ryujin asks. You frown, you're sure you just saw a mountain of napkins somewhere but you have no idea where it went as you look around and can't find it.

“Sure”, you nod, getting up to go to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter the house you can hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath trying to gather the courage to go inside and see something you're not sure you want to.

The girl is close to Jisung, too close for her own good, attached to his arm, practically hanging on to him. You scowl, feeling the blood in your body boiling, if you weren't sure about your feelings for your friend, you are damn sure now seeing as you're basically foaming at the mouth with the view right in front of you.

Jisungs gaze lands on you immediately when you enter the kitchen, his eyes grow wide and he takes a step back, detaching himself from the girl.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, knowing well that you are and ignoring the glare the blonde gives you.

“Ye-” she tries to say, but is cut off by the man whose gaze hasn't left your figure since the moment you arrived.

“No”, he gulps, “what are you looking for?” Jisung asks.

“Napkins”, you say, tilting your head and leaning over the counter. Your elbows rest on the surface, purposely bringing attention to your chest.

“Just a minute”, Jisung gulps, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes out four cans of beer and gives it to the blonde. “You can go back first, I'll bring the rest in a minute”

She looks at him for a whole 10 seconds, stunned and then huffs, marching out of there.

“Your girlfriend is lovely”, you tease him, walking around the counter to get closer to him.

“She's not my girlfriend”, he laughs sheepishly, “we were just talking”

“I'm sure you were”, you say sarcastically and stare at him for a moment. “So? The napkins?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Here”, he says, turning around to open the door to the cabinet on top of the sink.

Jisung’s arms look especially strong when he's flexing like that to pull the packages, it's something so mundane but it makes you blush the same way. He closes the door after and hands the products to you. “I'm going to get the beer for the others and follow you in a moment”

You nod, realizing that everything is different now that you know that you like your friend. You like Han Jisung.

You wake up the next morning feeling like shit, you tossed and turned in your bed until you finally fell asleep. You thought about all the things that could go wrong now that you liked one of your friends. What if things didn't work out between you two, you're sure it would cause a rift on your friend group.

Most people went home after midnight, Chan lets only his close friends crash in his house so you know everyone that stayed the night. Lia is by your side, yapping about what you're planning to do in the afternoon while you bite into your bread and try to not freak out when Jisung shows up in the living room. You keep avoiding his eyes, like you're guilty of something, and you definitely are, guilty of liking one of your friends.

In the afternoon you go out with Ryujin, Felix and Hyunjin, you all wanna walk around in the city and buy some clothes you definitely don't need. In the car you stare outside, your friends notice you're dozing around but prefer to wait for you to tell them if something is wrong.

After buying a new bikini, you just accompany your friends in their shopping spree. When you have no more room in the car for any more bags, you finally sit to get something to eat and while you wait for your order, you seize the opportunity to ask what's been on your mind in the last hour.

“Does Jisung like me?” You ask, you want to be sure that he doesn't want to just sleep with you.

“Where did that come from?” Felix frowns.

“That night I was asked if I would sleep with him”, you blush, “I was just wondering if he likes me or just finds me attractive”

Below the table, your fingers are pressing and scratching one another, you're nervous.

“I thought it was pretty obvious”, Hyunjin says, shrugging and getting elbowed by Felix.

“I don't think we are supposed to talk about that”, the younger one smiles awkwardly.

“Oh, please. It's not like the guy has made any effort to keep it a secret”, Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Clearly y/n likes him, that's why she wants to know”, your friend completes, laughing as your eyes grow wide. “It's not like you are making any effort to hide it either”

“Yes, he likes you”, Hyunjin says, ignoring Felix’s worries, “but he was very disheartened after that night when you said you never thought about him in that way”

‘It's a lie, but you don't need to know that’, he thinks to himself. Hyunjin is much more experienced in the love field, opposite to you and Jisung, so he knows you just need a little push for things to start working out and he doesn't mind being the one shoving you to each other.

“Oh”, that's all you can say.

That means maybe he doesn't like you anymore, right? That girl from the other night was very pretty, maybe she's his new type. She looked very girly and soft, you don't know if you would be considered any of that. Most importantly, she was clearly interested in him, maybe he wants to go after someone who doesn't reject him in front of everyone he knows.

You toss and turn once more in bed, Ryujin is sleeping right next to you and you're afraid of waking her up because you can't sleep. Your mind is so full of thoughts, a million per hour and you just can't stop thinking about how you ruined everything with the guy you like.

Even with the AC turned on, you're still hot and since you don't want to wake up anyone, you silently grab your bikini, putting it on before going to the pool.

You didn't expect to find Jisung there, he's just floating in the water with a pout on his lips and eyes closed, maybe he fell asleep?

You sit comfortably on the edge of the pool, putting only your feet in the water and watching Jisung. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the man opens his eyes, taking a deep breath and sinking into the water.

He comes back a few seconds later, back turned to you and you can't help but watch him. His back is muscular, broad shoulders with a tiny waist. When he turns around, he flinches, seeing you there, staring at him.

“I didn't mean to scare you”, you chuckle.

“It's fine”, he scratches the back of his head, “I thought I was the only one still awake”

“It's really hot, I couldn't sleep”, you say, it's not the whole truth but you're not sure if you want him to know that he's the reason you're still wide awake.

He nods, awkwardly looking around while his hands play with the water. Since that game, you both have been feeling weird near each other, you for discovering these new emotions towards your friend and him for being embarrassed that you knew about his one sided crush.

‘Maybe it's worth it’, you think to yourself. He already risked it all when he let you know about his crush, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't like you anymore, you just have to ask.

“About that night…”, you ask out of nowhere with a courage you have no idea where it came from. “Do you still like me?”

Jisung opens his mouth a few times, closing it right after, not knowing what to say. He takes a deep breath before answering.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, he sighs.

“Do you still like me?” You frown, repeating your question.

“Yeah, I do”, he shrugs, embarrassed.

“I never thought about you that way before”, you say, seeing the pout growing in his lips, “but after that night I kinda did”

Jisung stares at you for a minute before speaking again.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I like you back”, you feel your whole face heating while you wait for him to react. You both are still far from each other, Jisung in the middle of the pool while you're at the edge. His eyes grow wide and his lips open like he has something to say but doesn't know how.

He starts coming close to you, your heart beating faster as the distance between you both lessens, until the man stops in front of you, his hands landing on each side of your thighs but still not touching.

“Can you repeat that?” He blushes, “I don't want you to say you like me back just because you pity me”, he bites on his bottom lip and you smile. You cup his face with your hands, bending down so you can kiss him. His lips are soft and he tastes good, sweet, like something you would never get tired of. His hands finally touch your skin, sliding to your thighs and squeezing the plushy flesh.

“If you knew me at all, you'd know I would never lie about liking someone”, you let go of him, smiling and giving him a peck before growing the distance between your faces.

“I just really like you”, he blushes, biting his bottom lip, finally letting his gaze travel down your body, going through your tits pushed up by the bikini top and going down your stomach, until it reaches your bikini bottom, his hands squeezing your thighs even more to the view of your body in front of him.

“Is that so?” You smirk, “show me then”, you smile, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Show me how much you like me”

Jisung doesn't waste any time, grabbing your face with only one hand and squeezing your cheeks, kissing you harshly. His other hand slides up, pulling the strings of your bikini bottom so he can untie the bow. He pulls away from you, leaving kisses down your neck, he has his hand down on your pussy, putting on a finger and watching your reaction to it.

You moan, grinding your hips against his hand so you can feel him deeper. Jisung has his mouth slightly opened, dazed with the little whimpers you let out when he adds another finger inside you. Your hands go instantly to his shoulders, nails burying in his skin while his other hand unties the top of your bikini, freeing your tits. Jisung watches them bounce with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He can't help himself, coming closer, his mouth closing on your left breast, his tongue playing with your nipple, making you moan.

His thumb slides to your clit and you bite on your bottom lip, trying not to make too much noise — at least not more than you're already making.

The man smiles, kissing down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy and you can feel his breath hitting the skin, making you tremble.

He licks a stripe between your folds, your hands fly to his hair pulling the locks. Jisung's hands slide to your thighs, pulling you more to the edge of the pool. Putting your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass so he can eat you out more intensely.

He looks like a man starved, the way he groans and moans just by feeling your taste. Jisung is so turned on he could come just by feeling your tight pussy in his mouth. The sounds you make are divine, he can't believe he gets to hear you like this, because of him, just for him.

“I- I'm gonna-”, you can't even finish your sentence, moaning the moment you try to say more than three words.

“Come for me, baby”, he stops eating you out just to say it, going back to work as soon as the words leave his mouth, he stares at you intensely from down there, working even harder and making you come undone in his mouth.

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed. You can't believe how good he's at this and it also makes you a bit jealous, how did he get so good?

You watch as the man cleans around his mouth with his thumb, immediately taking the finger to his mouth to lick it clean and you hold the moan that wants to escape your mouth.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, not expecting you to but hoping that you do.

You nod, untying the other side of your bikini bottom, throwing the piece of fabric behind you.

You take Jisung's hands in yours, guiding them to your waist as you push yourself into the water. The man holds you, kissing your lips as soon as you are close enough to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs when he pulls you towards him, wanting to feel your body on his and you can feel the heat growing all over your body again.

You slide your hand inside his shorts, grabbing his dick and making him whimper in your mouth. You bite on his bottom lip, your hand makes movements of back and forth, making Jisung bend down and bite your shoulder, trying to suppress his moan. You groan, it feels good having him so close to you, marking you as his.

You pull his shorts down all the way down, pushing yourself up and wrapping your legs around his hips. Jisung grabs his cock, rubbing his tip on your entrance, slightly teasing your clit.

“Are you sure about this?” He groans, trying to control himself, “after this I won't let you go”

You nod, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Words”, he whispers, barely being able to hold himself back.

“Fuck.me.now”, you say with gritted teeth, opening your eyes to stare at him, holding onto his shoulders when he finally enters you.

You feel like heaven when he's inside you, your velvet walls tightening around him make him groan.

“Shit”, he cusses, biting on his bottom lip. “You're so hot”, he gets closer, kissing you deeply. His lips are so soft, you could never get over it.

Jisung starts thrusting, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer, fucking you deeper.

Your hands slide to his hair, pulling the locks while his lips go down your neck. He bites on your skin, sucking the area until it's red and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. One of his hands goes to your clit, rubbing the bud, making you get closer to your climax.

“I'm close”, he says, his thrusts faster and his fingers working diligently.

“I'm close too”, you say, kissing him, feeling his thrusts getting sloppier. You feel the hot liquid being spilled inside you, but he doesn't stop. Jisung keeps going, putting more pressure into your clit until you're trembling around him. He whimpers in your mouth, his hips faltering and both of your breaths growing tired.

He rests his head on your shoulder for a few seconds, before moving away from you, staring at you like you're going to fight him and run off.

“I guess you like me a lot”, you smirk, watching him blush and smile.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, biting on his bottom lip.

“I thought you'd never ask”, you smile, giving him a peck on the lips. “I even already have the reason for our first fight”, you raise one brow, laughing as his eyes grow wide.

“What?”

“You are going to have to explain to me how you got so good at eating pussy”, you tease and he smiles.

“I guess I'm just a natural”, he shrugs, making you shake your head in amusement and kiss him.

You could get used to this, you definitely can.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Pretty Boy | s.r. x fem!reader

a/n: you know i had to do something for glasses reid i’d be crazy not to.

“oh, here comes your pretty boy. capital p and b.” derek’s smooth voice entered your shared office with jj. you didn’t bother asking who, even coyly, he would just say something along the line of “your other half, pretty girl.”

so you rolled your eyes while scanning over a case file, not bothering to direct attention to the man. “and why the need to visit my space?” a teasing reply, both knowing his visits to the double liaison office were once in a blue moon.

there was the sound of shuffling before derek responded, “cause i wanna see your reaction.” such a vague answer that it caused you to pick your head up with a quizzical look, “what are-“ and you stopped when spencer poked his head through the cracked doorway.

“hey y/n, i brought you…” you didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. eyes too focused on spencer’s face and the new wardrobe attire perched along his nose.

your heart beat fast in your ears and you could feel your body warm in temperature. it was like you were sent back in time to high school and spencer was the insanely smart, pretty student ripped right from your fantasies. you hoped you weren’t drooling at the sight.

“y/n? you alright?” spencer’s voice was much closer now and when you blinked he was directly in front of you with the back of his hand to your forehead and a frown on his face. derek’s chuckles filled the crowded space and you couldn’t even manage a side eye.

“you feel warm. you didn’t happen to catch anything from the last case, did you?” full concern with round puppy eyes shining behind black frames. your heart was the picture of a popsicle melting on a hot summer day.

you took a swallow, “not- not that i know of.” eyes honed onto a freckle placed to the left of spencer’s chin.

derek laughed again, “ease up on her, pretty boy.” he moved closer and stood behind spencer’s left shoulder, a smug expression painted on his chiseled face.

“i’m just checking if she’s physically well.” spencer’s voice got high from defending himself and his actions while glaring at derek.

derek then jerked his chin at your sheepish expression, “well it’s declining each second you’re in her space.” joking at the expense of your crush, but spencer took it the wrong way and pulled his arm back to his side. “sorry, right boundaries. should’ve asked first.”

you managed to bounce back when he started moving away, “no! no, it’s- derek’s just joking. i- i don’t mind you touching me.” and it took two, two seconds, for your mind to process your wording.

“oh this is a great morning.” derek howled then decided he’s seen enough, leaving both of you hot and pink cheeked.

squeezing your eyes shut you wished for the floor to swallow you hole and drag you away from this situation. “i’m- i’m sorry… about that. bit- bit scattered brained right now.” trying to play everything off.

“you- you sure you’re alright? i’m certain hotch will let you leave early.” spencer’s brows pinched in the middle turning his face into more of a pout. oh he has no idea the effect on you.

you smiled gentle at his worry, “i’m well, just been staring at potential cases too long, that’s all.” fingering at the edge of the manilla folder in your lap.

“also i like the new look,” circling a finger around your eyes to play charades with him than just mention the holy glasses. “they suit you nicely.” friendly but said with a hint of flirty.

spencer’s smiled widened and his cheeks turned from bubblegum pink to a rosie hue, oh how you wish to just cover him in thousands of kisses. “thanks. i ran out of contacts for the month so i’m stuck with these until then.” making it sound like an inconvenience, but oh how you were gonna suffering for a month of those handsome frames.

you turned your head away before you were caught staring for too long and saw a baby pink bag sitting beside your picture frames. you reached out to grab it then pulled it apart to see a sweet morning treat awaiting for your teeth to sink in. “did you bring this?” asking spencer since you then remember that he said something when arriving but you didn’t hear what.

spencer straightened up and happily beamed, “yeah! i was walking past that pastry shop you like and thought you’d enjoy something for all your hard work.” you both knew that was a straight lie since that pastry shop is an extra ten minutes out of either of yours work routes.

but you didn’t comment on it just looked spencer in the eye and said softly, “thank you, spence. you’re very sweet.” and with a sudden boldness you leaned forward to press a delicate kiss onto his right cheek.

pulling back you noticed spencer’s lips were slightly parted, he looked almost winded from the sudden action. you were gonna apologize if you over stepped but then jj entered her office with derek trailing behind.

“uh… hi.” she stopped two steps inside then saw the way you both fidgeted to appear normal. as if you were doing something you weren’t supposed… “hi, welcome.” “everything normal here.” you and spencer talked over each other.

“okay, not even gonna ask…” waving a folder about, “but i found a case and hotch approved so into the conference room for debriefing.” jj gave both of you a final stare then walked around derek to flee the scene.

“come on pretties, you can smooch later.” “derek!”

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[gojoux]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 “𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃?”

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta. Inumaki.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

His eyes would light up and a wide grin appeared on his face. “Baby, it would hurt me if we’re not getting married.” He gives you many pecks on your face as he holds you close in his embrace. He’s actually already planning on how he’d propose to you. He’d be giddy at the thought and start pampering you. “I love you soo, sooo much!” as he kisses you with smooching sounds.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“Of course we can. I’d be a fool if I refused to marry you.” He’d give you that gentle smile of his as he placed a hand on your cheek and caressed your skin with his thumb. “I will marry you, I promise you that.” In his head, he’s thinking of what would your wedding be like, and the thought of you being by his side in an important ceremony makes him happy.

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

A sly smile appears on his face, “What an interesting question, my dear.” He wraps his arm over your shoulder to hold you closer to him and presses a kiss on top of your head. “Why would we not get married? I can’t let you go.” He’ll grab your chin with his other hand to make you look at him straight in the eyes. “No other man will ever marry you except me.”

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Yes,” he answers with no hesitation, yet his face remains the same so you’re kind of confused about what he’s actually thinking. “I don’t see why not, love. Marriage is a serious commitment, another proof of our love for one another, and I can’t imagine building a future with anyone other than you.” He already has the ring, he just needs to find the right moment.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

His eyes widen in surprise, he just can’t believe someone would want to marry him, and that someone is you, his love. “You want to marry me?” He asks to make sure if you’re certain. He knows he can’t give you much besides himself. When you assure him, he’ll be so happy like it’s a dream. He vows to himself to take care of you for the rest of his life.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

He’d look at you with his usual cool-headed gaze, “That’s a hard request that goes beyond my interests. But if you ask me, I would say ‘yes’.” He answers as it is. For him, marrying you would be easy, but he may not feel like it at the moment, but he also changes his mind easily just for you. He’d rather have you near him and make it official rather than never see you again.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

He’d never thought much about it, he always assumed he’d end up alone, so it took him a while to answer your question. “There is something about being with you. It makes me feel like I can be comfortable and happy with someone. So, yes, I’d love to marry you.” He looks away shyly but he’s honest with his words. He’d think about it for a long time.

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

“Wait, you’re really asking me to marry you?” He points at himself as he stares at you. Don’t get him wrong, he’s actually very happy, just surprised. “Hell yeah! I want to marry you. You'd make my dreams come true. I'd be honored to be your husband!” He lets out a happy laugh and starts suggesting many places to go on your honeymoon.

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

You made this boy beyond delighted by just asking him that. “Oh, yes, yes, of course. We can get married!” He nods eagerly. He’s passionate about love, and he’s just glad that you’re on the same page with him that you wanted to get married. He’ll ask what you want your wedding to be like, and all that. He hasn’t bought a ring to propose to you yet, so he’s rather panicky about it.

◈ — 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 🍙

He’s between happy and surprised that it’s making him even more speechless. He nods immediately like he’s going to break his neck and gives you two thumbs up of approval, “Shake, shake!” He’ll treat you like you’re already married, showering you with kisses as he hugs you tight. He’ll keep bringing the topic up, he just wants to marry you as soon as possible.

Uh, helloow, it's been a while 👉👈

[rainyyynightssss]

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you having trouble with other students

Characters: Trey, Jade, Floyd, Rook

Notes: Some violence

Trey Clover

You sit next to Trey at a library table, shoulders brushing up against each other as you both look at the textbooks splayed across the surface. You had been having trouble some of your classwork and it seemed harder than usual since you come from a world without magic. Trey, noticing your struggles, offered to help you study which was a compromise since you first asked to copy his notes.

You've been trying to focus on the notes and tips he's giving you instead of the lingering touches as he directs your hand to the next page, or the small praises he gives you after getting a question right, or his soft breath on your cheek as he leans close to check your work. No, you've been diligently studying and not feeling any kind of heat in your face.

"And what about this one?" Trey asks as he taps his finger on the open page in the textbook. You look down at the words and think for a moment.

"Um..so sublimation is...turning solids into gas...without having to go through the liquid phase?" You half-guess. Trey smiles and hands you another chocolate covered candy that he had called 'motivation'.

"Right again. You're better at this than you think." He says as he flips the pages over to the next question. You sigh and rest your face on your hand.

"I really should be compensated for all this trouble." You mention.

"The trouble of doing your work?" Trey chuckles, "I can whip something up for you later. Your favorite, of course." He winks.

Just as you're about to launch into a discussion about your favorite dessert, something hard is knocked into the back of your head. You whip around and find a couple of Heartslabyul boys passing behind you. One of them is holding a heavy book and smirking while the other two try to hide their snickers behind their hands.

You have no idea what you could have done to these boys. Sometimes just breathing was enough to piss off students at Night Raven College.

"Whoops. Wasn't paying attention." One of the boys says flippantly as he shifts the book to his other arm, nearly smacking you again. You rub the back of your head, ready to tell them off when one of them eyes the bag of candies on the table.

"Oh, Trey! Can we have some? Please!" The boy begs and his friends follow suit. Trey stares at them with a blank look for a few moments before smiling.

"Sure. Here you go," He hands them a handful of the chocolate candies each, "They taste better if you eat them all at once."

The Heartslabyul boys run off after receiving the candy without a thank you or an apology. You narrow your eyes at Trey.

"Awfully kind of you to give candy to my assailants." You sigh dramatically but Trey shakes his head.

"Something tells me they won't be enjoying this treat." He smiles again.

Suddenly, across the room, you can hear a chorus of "ewwww"'s followed by some coughing and gagging. You gape and turn back towards Trey.

"What did you change the taste to?" You ask in interest but he merely winks at you.

"I have no clue. It's just supposed to be chocolate." He responds innocently. His smile turns into a frown as he gently rubs the back of your head where you were hit.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more. Though if it's any consolation, Riddle will probably deal with them after he finds out just how severe their lack of manners are." Trey offers.

You think his caresses on your head like you're something that needs care is consolation enough. But you don't say that, instead leaving your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. Trey closes the textbooks and wraps an arm around your waist, done with studying for today but he didn't need an excuse to want to hang out with you.

Jade Leech

You finish taking a couple's order down on the notepad Azul provided to you and walk back towards the kitchen. You've been taking a couple shifts at the Mostro Lounge in order to pay off some of the damage Grim has caused by being...everywhere. Azul was benevolent enough to take you in and you just managed to slip through signing a contract with him, much to his chagrin.

Jade took on the responsibility of showing you the ropes, a little too eagerly which you found suspicious. He did tell you everything there is to know about serving and walked you through it. He didn't get irritated after you accidentally dropped a dish or forgot to add an appetizer a table ordered. Or at least you assumed he didn't since his smile never changed. Though you did notice that waiters who messed up one too many times were taken to the back by Jade. You hope that'll never happen to you.

You pass by Jade as he carries an abnormal amount of plates on his arms towards a table. He nods at you with his smile, not a hint of strain on his face.

"You have a new group at table 13. They can get a bit unruly so I'll-" Jade starts but you take the plates containing drinks off his hand.

"No, I got it! Thanks, Jade!" You tell him before dashing off to table 13. While you are definitely in this for the money, you also couldn't help but want to impress Jade and show him that his training was not in vain.

As you approach the table, you can already hear the group of boys chatting and laughing. You set the drinks down and give them a smile, readying your notepad.

"Are you guys ready to order or do you need more time?" You ask.

"What does it look like?" A blondie responds dryly. The rest of the boys stare at you like they're wondering if you passed elementary school.

"That you're...ready?" You guess awkwardly. The blondie rolls his eyes and the rest scoff, their assumptions about your schooling seemingly confirmed.

"Obviously we need more time." Another says and you nod, turning around to leave.

"I'll be back soon then-"

"Where are you going? We're ready to order." You turn back around to find the blondie smirking. Your hands tighten on your notepad and you fight to keep your smile. How did Jade do this all the time?

"What can I get for you?" You keep your eyes focused on the notepad, hoping that will lower your irritation.

"Can I get...uh..." You listen to one of them mumbling before a loud yelp is heard. You look over to see Jade gripping the wrist of the blondie who is frozen in fear and wincing. His grip is so tight that the boy's hand is turning white. You also find that the hand being gripped is dangerously close to touching your bottom.

"Harassing waiters in our lounge is strictly against our policy. I'll have to ask you to leave." Jade says, still smiling as ever. Though this time, you could see the strain in him, not from fatigue but something more lethal.

"I-I wasn't-" The boy tries to plead but Jade only tightens his grip.

"Wasn't trying to touch them? Well, security cameras will be the judge of that." Jade responds and the boy breathes a little easier.

"And so will I." Jade adds before snapping the wrist of the blondie, causing him to scream in pain. The boy flies out of the booth and stumbles towards the exit, crying as he holds his flailing wrist. Jade turns back towards the group.

He doesn't have to say a word since the other boys quickly sprint out of the lounge. You look between the exit and Jade in shock.

"Uh, well, thanks, I think. That might've been a bit excessive..." You trail off and Jade merely wipes a spot on your shoulder one of the fleeing boys must have brushed past.

"Are you alright? You can take a break in the back. Azul does time them though." He tells you and you shake your head with a smile.

"I'm alright. I only have half an hour left anyways. Hopefully those guys won't be back." You eye the exit but Jade takes your arm and leads you to you next table.

"They have an incentive not to. And if they do," He leans down close enough so that you could see the sharp edges of his teeth, "You'll tell me, won't you?"

Floyd Leech

You sit at your desk in Professor Trein's class, listening to him drone on as you take down notes. You always tried hard to pay focus in classes, which annoyed a certain eel sitting right behind you. He often pestered you in this class and you wondered why he didn't have anything better to do, like pay attention.

As Trein turns around to write something on the board, something soft and crinkly hits the back of your head. You look behind you to see Floyd grinning and pointing at the floor. You roll your eyes as you see a crumpled up paper on the ground. Curiosity got the best of you and you open up the paper.

Bored??? I am! Let's ditch!

You write a big, fat NO over his words on the paper and throw it back at him. Trein faces the class again to lecture and you can practically feel Floyd's dramatic sigh as he flops back in his chair.

"Can I see your notes?" Your seatmate asks you as he peers over at your notebook. You scoot your notes closer to you. Just last week, your seatmate had 'accidentally' tripped you while you were walking up to the board.

"Haven't you been taking your own?" You mutter.

"Yeah, but I wanna see yours." The boy starts tugging on your notebook and you try to pull it back.

"No, would you let go?" You hiss as you try to keep hold of your notes. The boy grabs your wrist to try and pull your hand off but he freezes as a looming shadow falls behind him.

"Wanna use my notes? I've got plenty." Floyd grins, all teeth.

The boy stammers, unable to say anything. Floyd grabs his hair and yanks his head back, staring straight down at him.

"Can't hear me? Should I talk louder?" Floyd asks with a giggle as he pulls on the boy's hair harder.

"Leech!" Trein reprimands. Floyd huffs and lets the boy's hair go, sending him reeling into his desk. You glance back at Floyd.

"You didn't actually take any notes, did you?" You ask.

"Sure I did." Floyd hands you his notebook. There's a couple of bullet points about a new takoyaki recipe he wants to try. He also added some doodles of an eel and a tiny shrimp.

Rook Hunt

You sigh as you write your woes down into a journal you started keeping a couple months ago. A group of Pomefiore boys have been bothering you for a while. They constantly put down your looks, calling it critique without giving any helpful tips nor was any of it even asked for. Even when you tried to avoid them on your way to see the vice housewarden, they still managed to corner you every now and then.

You finish writing and toss your notebook on your desk that sits right under your window. You think things may be better tomorrow as you rest your head on your pillow.

***

You head down the path towards the illustrious path that houses the Pomefiore students. Rook had messaged you in the morning, urging you to come by and see a "most beauté activity". You have no idea what this entails but it might be worth checking out.

You find Rook in a grass clearing just behind the dorms. He has his fingers in a square shape as he gazes at something in the distance. He sees you and gasps in surprise, grabbing both of your hands in his.

"Mon lumière! I'm overjoyed that you've accepted my invitation!" Rook spins you around.

"I can tell," You laugh a little, "What's this activity though?"

"I'm glad you asked! You see, I've been wanting to sharpen up my archery skills. The art of the bow and arrow is simply dur mais juste." Rook tells you.

"And you remember I mentioned wanting to watch?" You guess.

"Exactement! I already have the targets set up and all you have to do for now is watch." Rook takes you further down the clearing and your eyes widen in horror. The Pomefiore boys that have been bothering you were tied up to a row of trees, their mouths gagged and a juicy, red apple sits precariously on each of their heads.

"...What is this?" You ask hesitantly.

"Like I said, mon lumière, target practice! Now stand behind me and watch as I pull the drawstring..." Rook's eyes are hyper focused as he points an arrow at one of the boys whose screams are muffled behind the rope.

"Rook, there is something very wrong here!" You shout in concern. He releases the tension in the bow and points the arrow at the ground. He stares at you for a moment before lighting up again.

"You're right! You should be the one pulling the arrow. Such an eye for beauty you have." Rook sighs happily as he stands behind you and places the bow and arrow in your hands. They shake unsteadily as you hold them. There was no way you were going to be able to hit the apples.

"Rook, this isn't-" You gasp as he uses your hands to pull the drawstring and the arrow shoots forward. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the sound of four consecutive hits.

You slowly open your eyes and see four arrows perfectly shot in the middle of each apple, no doubt due to magical intervention. The group of boys sob in fear, not realizing it wasn't their heads that got hit.

You take a deep breath and look behind you at Rook who seems as pleased as ever.

"Did you know those guys have been bothering me?" You ask with narrowed eyes.

"How would I know that?" Rook responds with a smile.

"So you just happened to pick them out?"

"I needed targets. Who better than those who can't appreciate true beauté?"

You'll be moving your journal to a more secure location.

[soobnny]

one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

[luvtak]

when you know, you know ✭ yji

✭ genre/tw sugary sweet fluff, est. relationship, innie being very sweet, innie and reader being so in love its sick, ‘tiny’ used as a petname, like one swear word ? mostly unedited

✭ w/c 1005

✭ a/n i wrote this in about 5 hours so it could be so bad, who knows :// also, i was listening to the most sickeningly soft love songs so this is where all my devastation went… i hope you love it!! (divider from @cafekitsune !!)

There's something about the morning air that makes you look like an angel: Flushed cheeks and bitten-red lips, your hair still mussed from his hands. He can’t stop himself from staring at you, eyes sweeping to your form huddled in the corner of the practice room. You didn’t want to be here, adamantly refusing when he woke you up this morning, only agreeing when he told you he’d buy you ice cream for breakfast–a deal that left him exasperated until he tasted the sugary treat from your lips. He was reminded why he loved you then… it was the way the sun glinted off your cheekbones, warm light encasing you in a glow that hit him right in the heart. 

When you arrived at practice, greeting all the boys with tight hugs and uncontained grins, the lovesickness started rising up in his throat, and Jeongin did all he could not to embarrass himself in front of his hyungs. He never thought he’d be this gone, so incredibly smitten for somebody, alas the picture you form in his life is endlessly heart breaking.

“You know, in the last ten minutes Innie has looked over here probably five times…” Laughs Seugmin from his place next to you. 

“I did notice that, yes.” you respond. In truth, there hasn’t been one moment of your relationship where you haven’t noticed when Jeongin looks at you. Something about his stare being so hot against your skin that even with your eyes closed you would know he was looking. 

It makes you shy to think about Seungmin noticing your boyfriend’s devotion– your love is so often a secret, a whisper in the dark, a kiss shared with the light off. A love so intimate that it’s often masked with jokes and incessant teasing, anything to make it seem less than it is. When someone is your whole world, when you could survive just off the air in their lungs, that love is too great to be shared. 

Although, you can’t blame Seungmin for noticing. Your boyfriend has looked at you an inane amount of times in the last hour, glimpsing and glaring at you while he should be focused on the choreo. You could count on both hands how many times he’s been yelled at for messing up a step, even now during their break, with Minho berating him, he’s staring at you. 

“See! look at that! What a love drunk dummy, Minho Hyung is gonna kill him.” You can only half hear Seungmin, your eyes stuck on Jeongin’s smile, so pretty and all yours. You didn’t want to be here this morning, having plans to laze around the house in nothing but his sweater and watch stupid tv until he got home, but he begged and begged you to join him; cuddling into you and kissing all over your face until you agreed to come. The ice cream he bought you was only the icing on the cake, as sweet as all the kisses he placed on your skin. How happy you are now that you’re here, getting to see your boy smile and laugh and stare. “Oh god, there you go… you’d think you two would be over each other by now.” 

Unfortunately, the boy is left unanswered as Jeongin finds himself walking towards you, shit eating grin on full display, love in his eyes and mischief on his tongue. He’s so desirable, so undeniably handsome that it kills you to have other people around. 

“Hey loser,” your boyfriend says, “wanna go get a snack?”

“Will that snack be another ice cream cone? Cause if so count me in.” 

“Whatever you want, tiny.” he smiles, grabbing your hand to pull you off the floor and out of the room. Arms holding you tight through the hallways of the company, yet before you can go too far, he’s pulling you into an empty room and pressing his skin to yours. 

It’s not a hug really, his arms aren’t wrapped around you, but he’s so close to you. His nose is settled in your hair and his hands are so warm around your wrists, and even with your eyes closed you know his eyes are settled on you. He’s looking everywhere, from your sneakers to his sweater that wraps around you. Jeongin thinks you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen, and if he was braver he would’ve kissed you in the practice room. He would’ve touched you where the light hit, breathed in your air before stealing the words from your lips. If he was braver he would take the teasing from the other boys, if he was braver he would share his love with the whole world… but it’s so safe like this. 

The planet goes silent when he’s alone with you, the only thing on his mind your strawberry kisses. 

“You’re so pretty, tiny.” he whispers, his hands coming around your waist to clutch at you, holding on to you like he’ll never get the chance again. 

“You’re prettier, Innie, like a daydream.” In any other situation, your words would bring a scowl to his face, but here all alone in this empty room, he can’t help but smile. How lovesick can he be that he doesn’t find your silly confessions corny anymore? 

He can’t wait another moment without kissing you, without feeling your life bleed into his. In seconds he’s decided, and without hesitation he’s settling his rosebud lips against yours. The kiss is slow, a profession of everything he won’t let himself say out loud: He loves you, you’re perfect, you’re all he’s ever wanted. He kisses you in place of words that won’t come, his palms encasing your face so delicately, a caress that's been perfected. 

After a lifetime he pulls away, leaving you with goosebumps and shaky vision, you understood what he was saying. Heard every word he put into the kiss, felt every feeling he needed you to feel. 

He may not be able to love you in more than a whisper, but it’s the prettiest lullaby you’ve ever heard. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Escape the Friendzone 2/4 (Word count 5.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Massive arms go about her as she's pulled against a lean chest. It's an awkward, tense hug. He smells of open air and coppice, with a whiff of acrid sweat on top as she lays her head somewhere between the bumps of muscle of a warm chest.

Not even the body heat makes him appear more human: his heart is not pounding as fast as she thought it would after making it clear he would score some tonight.

She fears she's dealing with a sociopath. Might even be a psychopath.

"Are you still afraid?"

"I don't know." Her breaths are everything but steady as she inhales the intoxicating scent of a madman.

"Don't be scared. I will only hurt those who wish to hurt you."

His pledge renders her weak; it makes her legs shake. She gets far more than she bargained for when pulling him in to give her a little late-night comfort.

Friends with benefits is a situation bad enough, but this is not okay. The guy's fixation seems boundless, and if she tries to wriggle out of this… relationship and starts seeing someone else, it might end up in König scrubbing the potential future love interest's guts off his shoes.

And something in the idea isn't even wholly appalling.

Good God…

"I don't want you to hurt anyone," she whispers like it isn't his day-to-day job – to hurt and kill people. She is on the verge of collapsing to the floor and stays upright only because he holds her in authoritarian embrace.

"Little angel, it's what I do." He releases her only enough to bow his head and look into her eyes. His stare betrays slight distaste. Those eyes are calm mirrors of how can someone be so naive.

"You come to me if someone is mean to you," he orders in a stern voice that makes her feel faint.

"Alright," she breathes a fluent little lie. He's satisfied with her answer, however, and presses her head back against him with effortless control.

She imagines him knifing someone with a listless stare from sparing a glance her way; she fantasizes him strangling some chauvinistic moron in the darkness after they have been "mean" to her. Quickening breaths betray her sick thoughts to him because he pulls her even closer. She can feel the enormous cock pressing against her body with a promise of violence.

"Angel… I wish you would stop teasing me."

"Yeah?" Her laugh is restrained, and her heart is racing inside her chest – like it's some kind of a good idea to have a heart attack while a murderous psycho turning into a boyfriend is in the same room with her. "Where's the fun in that…?"

"Do you always tease men like this?"

"No," she swallows a mouthful of woodland and musk. "Just you."

"Hm."

"König… Can I see your face?"

The man finally seems to find his reserve again. He detaches from her, and she can hear the audible gulp inside the hood.

"Maybe later."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other like he usually does when he's a bit nervous. Probably to ease the discomfort from still being forced into those pants with such an astoundingly large, swelling erection, too.

She can't come up with anything that might explain why the man is so uncomfortable with showing his face. From the small glimpse she saw in the showers, everything looked completely normal. There is some other reason why he wants to wear the mask, most likely some mental block, and she would simply have to wait until he's ready and willing to take it off.

"How about a kiss?"

He doesn't shake his head or escape her as she hesitantly steps toward him and raises a hand to the hem of his hood.

"If I just…"

He does nothing as she starts to raise the mask. The look in his eyes is somewhat haunted, though.

She lifts it just enough to reveal a clean-shaven chin and a pair of thin, tightly shut lips. She briefly notices that there's a scar on his jaw before his mouth opens to call her in. They're polar opposites of each other: she feels breathless and limp when their lips meet while he's a statue of rigid power. Even his mouth is tense as she catches his bottom lip between hers and tries to soften that immortal stiffness. Distant notes of hops catch her tongue just before he pulls her back into a crushing hug.

The guy is not the most perfect kisser. He's very avid, though. In fact, his eagerness is what makes it a scary experience, what makes the kiss clumsy. He smashes his lips on hers with force, then opens his mouth so wide she fears he will devour half her face.

The ungloved hands slide down her back and cup her ass. He's gentle, but she still feels like she's levitating, half an inch above the ground from his groping. He moans like they are already having sex, but before she can disconnect herself from the violent kiss, he does it for her.

"I want to fuck you," he pants across her lips, eyes half-lidded and drunk. "Can I fuck you?"

The man has no conception of how to dance these dances. He simply declares his wish to shove his junk inside her and kill those who might do her harm. She feels dizzy in his arms, like dew that will evaporate under too much heat.

"Yeah, yes," she tries to sound sane, although there's nothing sane about this.

So much for being just friends or being nothing at all…

Her heart is beating faster and faster; it wants to rend itself out of her chest. She feels ample sweat between her thighs, then realizes it's only her own wetness that has broken through the cotton of her underwear. The dress is so tight in the middle that she can't simply try and throw it over her head, and the buttons at the front seem to have suddenly become too big to slip through the holes.

He doesn't take any of his clothes off while watching her undress. The instant she opens her whimsical veil of blooms, he moves close and shoves the fabric down her shoulders so that it drops sadly on the floor. Then he flicks a knife out.

Shit… Shit what the fuck–

"No–Don't–!"

The blade is forced with a flat surface under the middle of her bra. He pulls the fabric away, turns the blade - it's a miracle she's not bleeding by the time he cuts through the center front like it's butter. Her breasts fall free, and the destroyed lingerie hangs cheaply on the side before it gets dragged away too. She looks at his work, her exposed tits and the crude, fat knife he swiftly returns to its sheath.

"That was my favorite br–ah…"

The man is terrifying, even when he sinks to his knees. He dives for her breasts, licks the undersides and sucks her nipples like he's famished. Her head rolls back, and she feels fainter still as he gropes her like she's his toy, chews a nipple until she shudders and cries in pain. Then he goes down, down, panting hot breaths on her skin as he goes, the hood grazing and tickling her skin.

His hands shake slightly as he tears down the last piece of covering fabric from between her legs. She can't even step out of the briefs before a blazing tongue is pushed to her clit, all but delicately.

Perhaps he's not a virgin, but he's not a veteran, either – still, it draws a filthy moan out of her.

She has to take support from his head to prevent herself from falling when the tongue simply forces its way between her legs. It curls to meet her folds, slick with her wet. She knows she's practically leaking at this point, and hears how he licks his lips.

"Of course the angel tastes like heaven too," he rasps in her mound, sounding rather… bitter. Almost annoyed.

She thinks it's only the beginning, but he suddenly rises like a Kraken from the sea, like a Godzilla about to destroy an entire city.

"Get on the bed. All fours."

She chokes the whimper that tries to escape her, then turns and crawls onto the bed as if they are running out of time. His urgency is hers now, and she presents herself to him, waiting for the man to thrust in without remorse, but it's his mouth she feels first.

"Uh–Oh my god…"

He licks her with a flat tongue, torturously slow while she's on display. They're long, profound sweeps, as if he wants to sample her rather than give her pleasure. Although he does give her an immense amount of it.

She falls on her elbows, face down on the bed, exposing more of herself to him in the process. Her pussy has been neglected for so long that the feel of his hot tongue on her is absolutely breathtaking, thigh-shaking. She pushes herself back a little, lets him taste his own medicine for once.

And of course it only makes him more unhinged.

"You're wet like a…" he laughs a short, dry laugh straight into her folds, and she finally whimpers at the sound. "You want it so bad?"

"Yes…?"

It's a sad little confession but more than enough for him. He freezes behind her, and something in the way the air shifts tells her he has risen and is now standing high above her as she's in this crudely vulnerable position.

"I've made you wet this whole time?"

She snivels, opens her eyes, closes them…

"Yes," she sobs in the bed, nearly topples, but he grabs her ass and keeps her in place.

"Ach du lieber Himmel…"

She pants and cries in the sheets, but the sobering silence lasts only for so long.

The sound of a belt being opened shoots her skin full of goosebumps. Only a few seconds later, the fat tip of his cock is swept across her folds: it probes for a second, then slides in.

"A-ah–"

"Scheiße… So tight…"

He hisses and goes all the way in – the journey is long and torturous as he stretches her wide. The thickness only grows at the base, his balls are already tight as they arrive to press against her.

And mercy is not at the top of his list as he realizes she has denied her need and therefore, his. He starts to sail inside her, back and forth, in and out, like it's his job, too. It's total torture. She might just pass out before this is over.

"You little tease…" He seizes control of her hips while using her as his own personal fleshlight. The noise of wet, slick fucking is deafening. The pace is upped soon, and he has to use strength to hold her in place while ramming her from standing while she tries to hold on for her dear life and hold onto the sheets.

"Not so fast, König," she whimpers into her pillow, but he won't listen. The pace is frantic, and his thrusts are deep; he fucks her with despair, with anguish-driven, starved thrusts born from greed.

Nothing has ever felt so good, nothing.

"Just friends, eh?"

She has a hard time deciphering whether he is happy or mad. His voice is pitchy, and she knows, she just knows that he sounds equally as unglued on his missions. Perhaps that's why people rarely talk to him.

"Don't–don't be angry…"

"No? Say that you want me," he commands somewhere behind her, desperation coating the air with pungent sweat and musky arousal. "Say it–say it–"

"I want you," she finally cries, and it feels like an absolution. An amnesty. Remission of sin.

There's panting and frantic sound of slaps of flesh against flesh behind her. The air all around is pure electricity. It makes her quiver and throb and squeeze: him, the sheets, anything and everything.

"I will bring you flowers every morning and fuck you every night. Ja?"

His length is the only thing she can focus on; all else dissolves into a hazy mist. The cock glides in her like he's oiling a gun part, and he could ask her to kill someone and she would only say–

"Yes, yes."

He slides in and out with less and less control, moans and grunts with every thrust now. She's already past the point of no return, even though the orgasm keeps hovering right beyond her reach. She only needs a few more minutes. Or maybe just one...

"König… Not...so–fast…"

He answers something in German, an annoyed string of words she has no clue what they mean. He's probably just swearing profoundly.

"Get...what you deserve..."

That's the only thing she can flesh out from the English that follows. He finally finds some mercy with a choked groan and tries to slow down a little. It's even worse when he does that. He pulls almost completely out, then sinks back in, agonizingly lazy, and that does it: the full length of his giant cock slipping inside her without effort makes her walls clench.

"Oh God…" Her back is arching, her toes are curling, a tight cry disappears somewhere in the pillow, and he won't stop with the – "Oh–fuck–!"

"Yeah," he cheers her on as she screams, cries in the sheets while his cock swims in her. His hands dig into her hips, and she barely has brains left to think it might leave bruises. The orgasm comes in waves, shakes, and he won't let go even when she's only a heap of throbbing, soaking flesh and rapture.

And it's not the end; quite the contrary. He continues to fuck her with abandon: balls slap against her with every jab; they must be covered in her juice at this point, making the sound of sloppy thrusts utterly obscene. She's able to stay in a face-down, ass-up position only because he's holding her there for his cock.

The grunts turn into a wide, thick groan as he approaches the edge as well. The pace slows down almost to a halt before he comes.

"Jetzt…kommt–" he groans through gritted teeth, voice all taut while he grinds through his release. It's a multitude of deep, oddly paced thrusts, a sad attempt to get everything he can, and she's still like a wet gulf sucking him in.

The last throes are sluggish, the madness starts to pass, and she feels like every bone has left her body. There is nothing solid left when the man slowly relents and settles somewhere deep inside her. She can hear how he pants with his mouth open, and it sounds painful, wet, almost drooly. Then he swallows with a breathless gulp, slips out, and lets her go.

She immediately falls forward - topples, crashes, crawls on the bed, tries to rearrange what's left.

Just friends...

Yep.

He crashes somewhere beside her, spent and out of breath. The front of his shirt is covered in sweat; the air is filled with the stale scent of musk and saline sweat and pure, mad sex. She can barely catch a glimpse of the slick, glistening length of him. It feels like a miracle that this thing has been inside her. It’s not that it’s monstrously thick: it’s simply long, curving a little to the side, lean and aggressive even when growing soft.

"You play with fire, Engel. Why did you make me wait so long?"

The masked killer beside her is panting but satisfied for now, and turns his head to look at her. She has to muster all her courage to look back.

"I'm…a bit shy."

"You're perfect," he declares while watching her in her sex daze and ruin. So, at least he's not angry. He finally looks… normal, even with that absurd hood still on, with that intoxicated, admiring stare in his eyes. The ice in his blues has turned into melting snow.

"I noticed you the minute I arrived here."

She can't prevent a hand from reaching out at that, from splaying fingers over his chest.

"I noticed you too," she whispers back before moving closer to snuggle him. His heart is finally thumping in his chest, right under her cheek – from the late exercise or their closeness, she can't tell. A heavy arm goes around her, pressing her further into the nook of his armpit.

"You remind me of one of my knives," he says while holding her close.

Oh good God…

"You are a butterfly knife girl."

"Oh?"

"Ja. Small and cute and a lot of fun. And I can't get enough of you."

So much for getting rid of the man after getting some d. God, what was wrong with her? Any other woman would have put up some boundaries, perhaps gotten a restraining order by now.

"Is it… a good knife?" Her voice comes out as an annoying squeal, and he pulls her closer, ever closer.

"I mainly use it for playing."

She wets her lips in an attempt to calm herself, to comfort herself. She’s just another plaything for a murderer whose hunger seems endless, even if he’s more civil now. Still, she fears this man is only after sex and violence. Her little dresses and petite lingerie won't stand a chance against such brutality.

"What knife are you…?"

"Classic Glock field knife. Tall and ugly."

Behind the thin veil of indifference, there's pride. It borders on arrogance. She catches a dash of bitterness, too: field knives don't pair well with butterflies, perhaps.

"König, you're not ugly," she breaks their odd cuddle to look at him. "This sounds like a trustworthy knife to me."

He looks back at her with an even warmer tinge to the glacier of his eyes.

"It is. You cannot hope for a more loyal blade."

Her gaze drops somewhere in the darkness of his shirt. He's pledging himself for the second time to her, and it causes another storm inside her head. There's warmth on her cheeks, too.

"You are cute when you blush," he observes with pleased tranquility.

Perhaps... Perhaps he doesn't want to hurt things he finds cute.

Perhaps he will take care of them, like he takes care of his knives.

It still takes some getting used to that he allows his hood to be lifted just enough to push his tongue inside her mouth or pussy but taking it off to show his face is too much. She is lying there with him in an odd post-coital dream, thoroughly naked while he's still fully dressed. But she doesn't feel cold, not when pressed against his blazing form like this.

"Did you nick my underwear?" She asks out of the blue, and the hand stroking her waist stops in the middle of an idle caress.

"I might have," he admits without a single ounce of remorse in his voice.

"König… That's not cool," she says, knowing he can hear the lack of scolding in her voice.

"You want them back?"

"I… Gosh. Yes, that would be nice."

What a pervert.

"Or... Nevermind. Keep them," she sighs, trying to brush off the fact that the underwear in question wasn't even clean. "Do you steal women's underwear often?"

"No. Just yours."

A laugh meant to convey her shock is far too laced with joy to make it clear that she finds his deeds preposterous. She simply fails at every turn in trying to express that she's a decent woman. He knows it now, probably saw it long ago; that she's the perfect cheval glass to his perversions.

The hand on her hips moves to caress her thigh, and the drowsy stare observes her with growing mischief.

"Ready to go again?"

"Whuh–Again…?"

He takes her hand and moves it right over his cock. It's lean and demanding, and pulses under her palm.

Tall and ugly, she thinks while her walls dare to throb with hunger.

"You make me hard," he says, almost as a whisper, "all the time."

Jesus… There was definitely no rulebook when it came to this guy.

She gets to watch from the bed how he gives her a show as the man finally decides it's time to take his clothes off. The shirt is the first one to go: it flies somewhere on the floor while he holds on to his hood. The sculpted muscle looks even bigger up close, and the plates are covered with thin hair. It runs thicker below the navel, and his thighs are pure power: they surround the sleek length of his cock like trunks of strength when he finally gets himself out of those pants.

The v-shape of his upper body is something she will never get over. Broad shoulders shrink and curve into narrow hips which in turn swell into powerful thighs, and while perhaps this guy wouldn't win the gold medal at a fitness competition – judged by the way he's lean and athletic but not low fat ripped – he certainly is the most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. He's a demigod with his herculean strength, a titan who's too big for the world of mortals. A tormented Samson who will never be tamed with treachery or tricks.

The bed sags as he crawls back to her like the gentlest predator. Her legs open wide to receive him – a classic missionary feels like the most intimate choice after the faceless pounding she received earlier. He gathers her legs as he proceeds: forces them up, up, almost next to her arms until he's hovering over her exposed pussy.

She should've known that some boring missionary wouldn't satisfy this man at all.

Her eyes drop to her legs and what's between them: she's in no position to do much of anything, but as the tip of his cock – smooth, pristine velvet – slides across her wet folds once more, she rather helplessly tries to drive her hips up to meet him.

It's like she's drunk or in a dream. The scene is wild and filthy: she's plump and spread open, ready for the taking, thighs almost in her ears as he draws his hips back and finds her opening.

"Please be gentle," she begs with a whisper. He halts for a while to lock gazes with her rabbit stare.

"You are pretty when you beg, little one. But I would never hurt you."

She swallows, and her lips part – his gaze instantly falls on her mouth, then raises back to her eyes, gentle and painstakingly ardent. He's close, so terribly close – and not just physically. Her thighs quiver with anticipation as the thick velvet slides in.

Holy fuck–

She savors the spread, and he's gentle, like he promised. The groan that erupts from inside the hood above makes her walls ache. He's so merciful this time, and she wishes to lift the black veil that still keeps them apart, to see his face as he takes her, to see that scar on his jaw and how his mouth hangs open with hunger, just like hers…

His cock comes out all wet – she can hear it – before plunging right back in, and it makes her mewl.

"Oh God…" Her eyes shut tight from the sensation of being so filled. She's even more starved than she thought. It's scary, far scarier than the mass murderer above and inside her.

"You like that?"

He's breathing heavy, and she knows he's looking at her, the distorting face of pleasure, the way she's biting her lip. Tears try to force themselves out from the passionate, featherbrained proximity, from being so tightly knitted together, like a bunch of happy, overstimulated nerves.

"Look at me," he orders, and she opens her eyes like they're under his command and not hers.

"You like it like this?"

She nods with tears in her eyes, and he won't stop looking at her like she's his most prized possession.

"Gut. I will make you scream again."

The man's dreamy stare follows every twitch of a lip, every bat of an eyelash. She looks down briefly to escape that love – the sight of the long thickness disappearing in her while she is so crudely open for him makes her feel dizzy, even when she's lying down.

Some pillow princess…

"Sehr schön," he comments while watching her face which must look like that of a dumb, anesthetized doll. His cock has that effect, and now that he's hovering over her, staring into her soul while filling her, it makes everything even more painful because it's sweet. She's under lazy waves, and decent men seem the most boring thing on earth right now.

"You like my knives?"

"Ah–what…?"

"You stared when I played with my knife."

She knows he has caught her staring more than once and bites her lip again not to blurt out how she had stared when he had played with... other things as well.

"Mh, yeah… It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

The sudden waves of intimacy leave her fragile and weak. His stare is nothing short of a caress. She is open and helpless for him to pound to his heart's content, but he's gentle, bordering on loving...

"I can teach you how to play with them."

Jesus Christ, this dude is just crazy.

"Uh-huh," she agrees to it with her mouth hanging open from the overload of sensation. The lewd sound of his cum pushing out of her with every thrust is an obscene background music for this – or any – conversation.

"I have a collection."

Why the hell would he be talking about his knife collection in the middle of–

"I own at least fifty knives. I can show you all of them if you come to my room."

His gaze is at least as piercing as his cock, and she realizes how serious this is: knives are his life. He finds them beautiful too, he collects them and cares for them. They're a profession, but they're also the most important thing in his world.

Knives are his essence.

And he had likened her to a butterfly knife...

"S-sure."

The sound from where they are joined rises to a sluggish crescendo: drowsy, filthy claps of flesh on soaked flesh. He makes her sick and well at the same time: he drags her to hell and raises her to heaven. He's the remedy and the curse. He plays with her like he plays with his knives: ravenous, entranced, obsessed.

She tries to concentrate on too many things at once: that intoxicating voice, the memory of him playing with death, the cock plunging inside her over and over again, making warmth pool below. She imagines him killing people with his collection, picking his tool for the day. He's not the only lunatic here because even the very thought makes her tight around him.

"You are close?"

"König… Just–" she whispers on the cusp of a deeper, soul-rending orgasm.

"You like it when I talk about knives?"

She breathes laboriously and tries to hang onto the last bits of her sanity, but he knows her, knows her already. He weighs down on her until her thighs come to rest right next to her breasts. He's plowing her in a crude angle, indecent and deep. It's vulgar, and she loves it; loves the way he stares at her, all helpless under him.

"Please, I'm gonna–"

"I can show you my guns too."

Ohmygod–

"I'm gonn–ah–!"

She shatters, her walls clench; her pussy sucks him like he's hard candy.

“Sieh dir das an… You were made for me.”

"Nh– Please…"

Her head tosses on the pillow as if in a dream. She's fathomless, and going to pass out, the cock inside her makes her eyes roll back in her head until she sees white, the color of saints.

"Shy girl… Beg for it."

The voice that answers his command is not that of a shy girl; it's not hers at all. She hears it from underwater, and her reality consists solely of the man filling her, spreading her, transforming her from an angel into something deliciously wicked.

Please, just–

It's not her voice, and yet it does sound everything like her. It begs, mewls a plea after the other in a string of helpless little whimpers.

Don't stop, please pleaseplease…

"Besser als jedes Messer…" he rasps, more darkly now. "You drive me crazy, Engel."

A chant arises in her head: she has sinned and there's no turning back. He feels far better than any promise of heaven. She could never have guessed that being cast out would feel so good.

His release comes with a tight rip, he goes taut like in that shower, only ten times more desperate. The hiss under the hood turns into a pained, strained roar of a grunt. The first time was foreplay, a quick one: this is true release. She almost hopes she would faint as the whole body of the Austrian titan goes hard as a rock. She couldn't be more spent and used, and still, her pussy answers his godly essence by clenching around him, pulling him in like he's the best man there is.

The man of her dreams, the man from her worst nightmares...

His eyes are liquid, the waterline twitches. She sees behind the walls, a millisecond's worth of fragility before his head drops, and the muscles are released from the violent trance. Broad shoulders cage her in like she's suddenly deep inside a mountain pass. Spent and dead and gone, there's no hurry any longer: he is buried deep inside and throbs whatever leftovers he has to give her.

She's filled to the brim, crushed under his weight, banished: and it's only delicious, the feeling of her body disappearing somewhere in the depths of the bed he has plowed her into. She waits dutifully as the man gathers himself, even gets brave enough to touch him. The masked face is buried somewhere in her neck, and his stomach ripples with a few shivers as her hand runs down his spine.

"I want to do this every day," he declares softly while panting through the thick fabric of his self-made shield. She feels pure horror and thrill in her chest.

To do this every day… She will eventually break, like a toy that has been used too much. She's not made of steel like those butterfly knives used mainly for playing.

"König, this is crazy… We're crazy," she tries to put into words the unholy mess raging inside her. He snorts before releasing her from the absurd position. The weight of him leaves her empty as he pulls out, then drags his way beside her to gather her back into his arms.

"Don't be ashamed, little one," he coos through the mask. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Two rounds of intense sex have liberated him, the manic terror has turned into a strange compassion. The look in his eyes is magnanimous and tender, almost droopy. She feels weightless and timid, an angel once more.

"We belong together, you and I," he states with conviction that sends sweet dread inside her heart. "Don't worry. You will never be lonely again."

Her fate is sealed, and she fears a big, fat knife will cut her heartstrings too if she tries to escape his protection. Her jaw trembles at the prospect of him returning to her every day to fuck her bare after an adrenaline high on the field. She sees a future of tears and sweat and cum, a beast lulled into sleep amidst a withering sea of flowers and torn lace.

She tries to find the right words, hopes he will be swift and merciful in his execution.

König, please…

It's not the hood, it's–

"Everyone fears me," he sighs beside her. "I'm glad you don't."

[torasplanet]

been thinking a lot about frat!toman and being their sweetheart. i have many ideas but the one stuck on me is when they all just can't get enough of you! they all share but it's getting to a point where they're damn near ready to go through a barbaric war for you.

mikey, the frat prez, would treat you like an absolute princess like the most of them but with him you really are. he can do what he wants and say what he wants meaning you get whatever you want but he doesn't particularly enjoy it when you get mouthy. nobody else does either.

the only one who really seems to like it is nahoya, it really gets him going when you tell everyone how it is and make demands. what else gets him going is when he gets you to shut all that shit up. it's funny to him almost. you get a little bit of dick and everything you tried to stand on matters much less than before, in fact you've forgotten about it.

mitsuya is such a sweetheart when it comes to the frat sweetheart. he treats you like fine china, of course he has his moments but he's nowhere as rough as some of the others can be...he's your favorite, for a reason.

draken is also a nice one but don't get him wrong, he's very quick to snap you back into place if you're being too much of a...brat, he'd say. he's also king of casual dominance. he's sort of a mitsuya mixed with a baji. he'll always make sure you're okay while he's treating you and whatever you call that nasty thing between your thighs like nothing but a cumdump.

speaking of him, baji is such a tease. he's mean, to say the least. he likes to show you off, he's not scared of people knowing about the situation going on the frat. in his words, most people already think frat sweethearts get fucked like you. he can be nice, he's a gentleman of course but most of the time, he is such a meanie !!

however, this doesn't make him the meanest. chifuyu, whether you believe it or not, can be pretty fucking mean. he's such a sweetie, he loves you and adores you yet when you get him upset, he's torturing your poor clit for hours to the point you wish that nahoya was the one pissed off !! don't even get me started on how filthy his mouth will get...

kazutora is the real sweetheart though, him and souya both. kazutora is always so gentle with you, he takes you out on dates and treats you before he even thinks about getting between your legs. speaking of, he is a real eater !! he can cum just from eating you out and then he's satisfied for the day. but with the way he likes to cum, you'll be getting eaten out until kazutora has to get rid of his pants because of how much he stained them.

souya by far has to be the best gentleman. he waited so long to fuck you, he knew you were sore from the recent relationships in the frat and he wanted you to really feel him and everything he has to offer. he still does the same. he refuses to fuck you if someone else already had soon before him, the most he'll do is foreplay and enough to make you cum untouched. he hates seeing your pretty pussy all spoiled with someone else's cum!! all he wants is to stare at how his cum is so sheer spread all over your thighs and cunt.

but what they all fight about is who gets to do your aftercare and taking you out. as much as they love seeing you all fucked out, they love seeing that sweet smile when they give you a surprise date. the toman frat boys simply adore you !!

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[satorusugurugurl]

Hi, I saw your post about jjk characters with a reader who has ed but could you do something similar but with an ed type like "I don't deserve to eat" because honestly I'm closer to that than worrying about my appearance. Well, you know when you were brought up that food, especially sweets, was a reward, and when you did something wrong, you were forbidden to eat. I would be very grateful. Thank you in advance

I Don’t Deserve It

Summary: How will JJK men react to you not eating because of your past?

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,412

Warnings: E.D, childhood trauma, PTSD, self-loathing, language, fluff, the boys being sweet

A/N: Hi there, Nonnie. Thanks for the request! I did my best with this one. I hope you enjoy it! 💚💚💚

Gojo Satoru:

It was hot, too damn hot to be outside. You whined, shielding your eyes from the sun above, and you limped behind your students and boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. You had gotten yourself into a little bit of a pickle on your mission. You quickly took out the grade two curse you were sent to exorcise. You, however, fell down the flight of stairs in the old Hospital and needed to call them for assistance.

Falling down the stairs was so utterly embarrassing. A sorcerer of yours should be more graceful and more tentative and careful. If your mother had been around, she would’ve reprimanded you, claiming you were nothing but a failure. That you needed to be severely reprimanded for your error. Your mother had been such a bitch. Even though you weren’t in contact with her anymore, her lessons still stuck with you to this day.

“Gojo! Gojo! Let’s get some ice cream!” Itadori and Kugisaki pointed frantically at the convenience store you were passing.

“Ah, yeah, ice cream sounds delicious right now! Yuuji, come on, let’s grab some! Megumi and Nobara, you're on drink detail!” your blindfolded boyfriend turned his head towards you, staring for a long moment before facing the shop. “You just stay here, babe.”

Embarrassment twisted your guts like they were knots on a boat. Of course, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age would be embarrassed by such a simple mistake you had made. If you made such a simple error as falling down the stairs on an easy mission, why would he want you to help get drinks and ice cream for the kids? Your bottom lip quivered as you shook your head, sitting on a bench outside the shop.

While your students and boyfriend headed into the shop, you could feel the heat plummeting down on you. On hot summer days like this, when you had made an error in your training or forgot to do something in the house, your mother would always make you sit outside. Other family members snacked on ice cream and drinks, while your mother always denied you the right to lovely cold iced tea or an ice cream cone.

“You failed me today; you do not deserve a treat. Sweets, like these, are earned, not given.”

Her words still rang in your ears as sweat slid down the back of your neck. It would be a long walk back to the school without anything to keep you cool. You needed to be more careful on your missions, especially now that it was summertime. It was bad enough you fell down a flight of stairs. You couldn’t imagine how you would be lectured for fainting in the heat.

“Mmm!” Yuuji hummed happily, licking his ice cream as a sliding door to the convenience store dinging the four returned. Megumi held a bag as Nobara chugged down some of her green tea. “This is great! Thanks Gojo!”

“Yeah, thanks.” Megumi nodded his head as he sipped on a bottle of water.

“It's too damn hot out here! We should go to the beach! Oooh, or a water park; maybe an agency will approach me!” You couldn’t help but smile as the trio of students talked amongst themselves and made plans to beat the summer heat. Your mindless star was cut short as an icy cold bag pressed firmly against your hot cheek.

You jumped, startled by the sudden cold against your face. Pulling back, you glanced up at your boyfriend, whose dimple deepened as he grinned. “Easy there, it’s just me, you’re loving boyfriend, with an ice cream for you.” Something in your chest swelled as you glanced at the ice cream he handed you, still wrapped in plastic.

“Huh?”

“Uh, ice cream? For my girlfriend, here.”

He waved the treat in front of your face, emphasizing his point. When you said nothing, he waved it again, tilting his head in confusion as to why you were so hesitant about taking it. There was a look in your eyes as you just stared at the sweet treat that had him tilting his head to the other side, pursing his lips together.

He sighed, flopping down on the seat next to you, his long legs stretched out. He was ripping the plastic and holding the unwrapped ice cream towards you. “Here you go, babe.” Your fingers inched closer toward the waffle cone before you promptly pulled them back.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you get me this?”

Gojo pulled his blindfold up; eyebrows scrunched together as his mouth was agape in confusion. “Because it's a bajillion degree outside? Because I bought the students ice cream and one. Why wouldn’t I get my girlfriend one too?” Gojo seemed insulted that you would ask such a naïve question.

“N-No, I get that, but I didn’t do anything to deserve it. You had to rescue me today. And now you’re giving me a prize for nothing?”

“Who in their right mind told you that?!”

With flushed cheeks, you glance down at the ground. “Uhm, well—my mother always told me that sweets were a reward. I never used to get them as a kid. Hell, even meals sometimes were considered a reward after training.” A sudden spike of nausea rose in your throat at the unpleasant memories of your childhood.

Gojo remained silent momentarily, taking your words as meaningful instructions for an important project. Instead of saying anything, he grabbed you by your chin, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it so your eyes met his. His usual charismatic, carefree charm was void, as were his gorgeous eyes. Instead, you were met with nothing but worry. Seeing him look at you like that caught you off guard as he leaned in, gently pressing a kiss against your lips.

Your eyes went wide, darting towards the trio who didn’t pay you any mind. The kiss wasn’t heated or full of desire like it usually was. It was nothing but genuine, passionate love. You kissed him back, slowly closing your eyes as your arms wrapped around his neck. Gojo pulled back, grabbing your chin, tapping the ice cream against your bottom lip, grinning wide.

“Your mother was a mythic bitch. God, I would love to beat her ass for torturing you as a child.” he sighed before turning to watch you take the ice cream, unwrapping it. “You don't have to do anything to deserve a treat. If you want one, have one, especially after a rough mission. I always get myself a treat after a mission! It's like a little reward.” His large hand stroked your hair as you happily licked the ice cream. “We gotta work on fixing that mentality.”

Your shoulders feel light as the ice cream begins to cool you down. “Right, I think this,” you motion towards the ice cream in your hand, “is a great start.” Gojo barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh baby, this is just convenience store ice cream. Wait until I take you to my absolute favorite shop downtown!”

On the way back to school, the five of you laughed as you ate your ice cream. Gojo sucked on his

while he carried you on his back. You were lucky to have a man who would tell you when you were inevitably wrong, and you were worse so much more than you thought.

Geto Suguru:

You stood in the kitchen, watching the girls running around playing, which was a good thing seeing that you had screwed up and forgotten to pick them up after school. The morning had been hectic, from filling out paperwork to doing housework, and it has just managed to slip away from you.

You were cutting vegetables for dinner when the school called. At first, you were confused, but the second you glanced at the clock, your stomach fell into your ass. You ran all the way to the school, finding the girls eagerly waving at you from the steps where their teacher glowered down at you.

“Sorry! I lost track of time, sweet peas!”

“That’s okay!” Nanako said as she held onto her sister’s hand. “We figured you were held up and knew either you or Geto would show up!”

“Mhmm!” Mimiko agreed as they tread down the steps together.

You ruffled their hands as they passed you before turning to their teacher. “I’m sorry time got the better of me. Thank you for waiting with them.” typically, people would say it wasn’t a problem, but this teacher shot daggers out at you as she stepped down to face you head-on.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” Her words weighed you down as you stared at her in confusion and shock. “You call yourself a mother or a guardian? Your generation is so lazy and self-entitled, caring about no one but yourselves.”

“Excuse me; you're wro—”

“Lazy, ungrateful people like you don’t deserve the happiness they were blessed with.” She shoved past you, heading down the sidewalk. “You don’t deserve it.”

The elderly teacher was an insane coldhearted bitch. Shit happens, like losing track of time. She could fuck off all you cared. Both you and Subaru worked hard to make the girls feel loved. She didn’t know what she was talking about. So you brushed off her cruel words to the side, holding both girls’ hands as you walked home together.

Ignoring the teacher was easy, but her words triggered unpleasant memories for you. It was her and the guilt in your stomach for losing track of time that triggered flashbacks to play in your mind. Your father told you you did nothing and deserve your mother because you didn’t prepare it when you had been training all day. You never got to enjoy a warm meal with your family on days like that.

Moments and bad habits like that tended to stick around like a scar. Even when you were an adult, you knew you didn’t do anything wrong, but the interaction with the teacher and memories from your childhood had you sinking in on yourself—the little girl who watched her family eat without her.

The door opened, and Suguru grinned as the girls ran at him, throwing their arms around his legs and giggling as he walked into the kitchen. His eyes were warm down the top of their heads. You smiled at him before looking away, your stomach growling.

“Welcome home, Geto!”

“Thanks, girls.” he placed a big watermelon on the kitchen counter, drawing that girl's attention along with your own. “Look what Yaga gave me. It’s nice and cold. Perfect for dessert tonight.”

Your mouth watered as Nanamo and Mimiko chanted excitedly, watching Suguru wash his hands before cutting into the melon with a knife. Your fingers slowly inched forward, but you pulled away, focusing on your phone instead. If your father were here, he would remind you that you didn’t deserve to eat with your family. Because you had forgotten to pick up the girls today

“You girls ate all of your dinner, right?” Your boyfriend asked as he grabbed two slices of the sweet red melon, holding them out in front of the girls.

“Yes, Geto!”

“We ate everything!”

“Good, here you go.” They took the slices eagerly, munching on the bright red fruit. While they happily ate, Geto turned his attention toward you. He pushed some of his dark bangs out of his vision. “And you, Princess? Did you eat all of your dinner?”

“No.”

Your boyfriend blinked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Why not?” His voice lowered as he grabbed a slice of the melon.

“I don’t deserve to eat.” Those five words wait a ton, causing your boyfriend’s face to contort with concern.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t. I screwed up and forgot to pick up the girls today. Their teacher made sure to let me know. I didn’t deserve to be as blessed as I am.”

Suguru scoffed, narrowing his gaze as he grabbed your face in one hand, squeezing it so your lips were puckered. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You work your ass off every day to take care of our blessings. There’s no reason why you don’t deserve to eat.”

“My father would disagree with you on that.”

“Well,” your boyfriend squeezes your cheeks gently. “If I ever meet your father, I’m going to feed him to my curses because he doesn’t deserve to breathe for making you feel like that.”

“Sugu—mm!”

The tip of the watermelon slice is promptly shoved into your mouth. “I don’t want to hear you argue because, for once, you’re wrong.” You felt like all the worry on your shoulders and the grip your father had on you began to fade away. “Now be a good girl and chew.”

You take a bite, the sweet juices flooding your mouth. You moan at the taste, swallowing before taking another bite. Seeing the smile on your face, your boyfriend grinned back as he gently continued to hold the watermelon for you.

“Hey, Ma didn't eat her dinner!” Nanako chimed in as both she and Mimiko happily continued to eat their slices

“Oh, I know we’re just doing things out of order tonight.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Can we do that tomorrow night?!” The girls ask in unison before you and Suguru, smiling before saying yes. Sometimes, life was messy, but you just had to go with the flow and take one moment at a time, even if that meant doing things out of order.

Nanami Kento:

“My love,” you glanced up from your book as Nanami stepped inside the apartment, removing his glasses. “I’m home.”

Your book is thrown across the couch as you leap your feet, rushing to throw your arms around your husband. “Welcome home, Kento!” His hand gently grabs the back of your head as you kiss him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He presses another longing, soft kiss against your lips. “I’m starving. I can’t wait to unwind with a nice warm meal with you.”

You pull away, and Nanami watches your face pale. You yank yourself away from his arms, your hand covering up to cover your mouth as you mentally start cursing yourself out. Being a housewife meant you got to take care of the house, shop for groceries, and prepare dinner for your husband without worrying about working as an assistant supervisor. Today, you cleaned the house, shopped for groceries, and did laundry but failed to do the most important thing.

Make dinner for your beloved husband, who worked all day.

“Oh my God, fuck me!” You rushed to the kitchen, throwing the fridge open and trying to figure out what you could make. “I’m so sorry, Ken.”

“Love, it’s al—”

“No, no, I’m so sorry. I’ll make something for you, or I could pick something up.”

“Honey—”

“I’m sorry.” In this state, you weren’t sure if you could cook anything with your shaking hands. “I’ll order you something. Please go take a bath and relax; I got this!”

Your husband frowned but didn’t argue with you. He just stared for a long moment before heading into your room to change, leaving you a shaking mess as you ordered him a sandwich and soup from the bakery down the street, not adding anything for yourself. With the food ordered, you paced the kitchen, biting down on your thumbnail with a sigh; terrible memories from your childhood and your weeping mother flashed.

When you were little, your mother was a stay-at-home mom while your father was on missions. Both your parents loved each other and rarely fought, but your father’s mother was a terrible human being. Whenever your mother was overwhelmed and wasn’t able to cook dinner, your grandmother would yell and scream at her, telling her she was a terrible wife and homemaker. On days like that, your mother would weakly smile before preparing something quick for everyone to enjoy.

Your mother would never join in, even when the hot meal was prepared or purchased. Your grandmother chastised her for even considering joining them for a meal she had forgotten to make. Your mother would stay in the kitchen until everyone else had eaten before she might consider eating for herself. Which rarely happened in fear of how your grandmother would react.

You never thought you would find yourself in her shoes one day. On top of that, you had done hardly anything compared to the miracles your mother made. She raised children, kept up with the house, cleaned, and ensured everything was in order. You and Nanami were just two people to care for in a small, comfortable home. Compared to your mother, who took care of your entire clan, you were pathetic.

If your grandmother were still around, she would lecture you like she had your mother countless times before.

You had failed as a housewife, and that fact had your stomach churning with nausea as you carried the plate of delivered food to Nanami, who had just walked out of the bedroom, freshly showered and changed. You handed him the plate, keeping your eyes glued to the floor with a frown. Your gaze was suddenly lifted as Nanami took the plate with one hand and grabbed your chin with the other, forcing you to look at his face.

“I’m sorry, Kento.”

“Please don’t apologize for something so minuscule; it’s fine.”

“You worked all day while I stayed at home. It should’ve been done.”

You sat at the table, staring at the placement before you, and your husband began eating in silence, his eyes glancing towards the table, finding nothing on a plate for you. A blonde brow cocked as he swallowed the bite in his mouth.

“Love, where’s your food?” You frown, dropping your head lower. “Darling?”

“I don’t deserve to eat with you. I’ll eat tomorrow morning.”

You listen as the chair across from you slides against the wooden floor. There are a few footsteps before the chair beside you pulls out, and Nanami’s body wash invades your senses. Your eyes clamp shut, but you hear rustling instead of a stern lecture. Opening one eye, you find half his sandwich on the placemat before you.

“Kento, what are you—!”

“I want to share my food because despite your thinking you did nothing today, just because you were at home is not the case.” He takes another bite, the bread crunching deliciously, making your stomach growl loud. “You cleaned the house and reorganized our bathroom.” He took another bite. “Then you dusted the office, shopped for groceries, and on top of all of that, you did our laundry.”

Your husband was one of the most considerate men in the entire world. He took notice of the little things you did and always made sure you knew how much he appreciated you. So, not being angry that there was no dinner waiting for him at home had your heart skipping a beat.

“Kent—”

“Nuh-uh, unless the next words out of your mouth revolve around the sandwich, and it's good to save it; I don’t want an apology. I don’t want to hear how you didn’t do a good job. Because that’s not right, take such wonderful care of our home. I love you more than anything in this world.”

You pick the other half of the sandwich up, smiling at him. “Thank you, Kento.” You take a bite, the bread crunching as you do. You hum happily at the delightful taste that swarms your taste buds. “Mhmm!” Kento grins, leaning over and pressing the softest kiss against your temple.

“I love you; thank you for taking such good care of the house.”

“I love you too, Kento; thank you for all your hard work!” Your smile is as bright as the sun as you hold up half of the sandwich. “And thanks for sharing!”

Nanami gently taps the half of his sandwich against yours as if clinking glasses together. “You’re welcome, my love.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[sunboki]

baby fever! w kim seungmin because i am suffering unimaginably from my absolute need to have a baby HELP

he would be so sweet?? like i- 😭😭

at some point he would begin hinting at it, whether that’s claiming certain baby clothes are cute or even straight up bringing it up

if you’re hesitant, be prepared to witness a very pouty, though nonetheless respectful seungmin who, after many attempts, convinces you

granted, this isn’t a one time thing, but your own kid — meaning, before even trying for a baby, matters need to be discussed

although… let’s just say there weren’t any problems in the baby-making department.. courtesy of the baby-fever induced husband of yours 😀

i know for certain he cried during your ultrasound, pretending he was rubbing his eye till you noticed the swelling tears poor bby :((

he’s simply enamored by you?? in every way?? how is this possible

not to mention when you begin showing and he is SMITTEN (not like he wasn’t before)

stares at you with heart eyes i swear

you’re just so beautiful and adorable and round and sweet, rip seungmin’s heart </33

stands behind you all the time with his hands reaching to rest over your bump, rocking back and forth so happily

swaying to a slow song in the kitchen together >>

also, when i say he’s serious about you becoming overstimulated, i’m not kidding it’s his sixth sense

the moment your lip starts to tremble or you start to become overly emotional or overwhelmed he’s all over you, gently holding your face and treating you oh so carefully, paying attention to your every need

especially when you go out, if you begin to feel nervous or exhausted, anticipate a very concerned yet protective husband to hold you close to him, practically shielding you from the rest of the world like your personal cozy space

he ordered that soup you like but you lost interest right after he brought it in? no problem, seungmin is here to cater to any and every craving

feet hurting? back achy? say less, free massages every night no matter how busy his day was

whatever circumstances, you and the baby are his first priorities, always

expect him to sing soooo many lullabies (and they’re so pretty HOW)

sets up the nursery w the help of the other boys, likely checks if everything is baby-safe a billion times

..he might’ve passed out during the delivery… but you didn’t hear it from me

definitely has the baby carrier on his front all the time, feeding your baby little snacks while roaming around the studio

seungmin swears he’s never been more in love in his entire life (that is, apart from when it comes to you), so on the first night you get to bring the baby home, he has them swaddled to his chest, unwilling to let go

if only your little one knew he had your husband wrapped around his finger ☹️

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[withwritersblock]

No Caller ID pt. 2

~No Caller ID by Megan Moroney~

Author's Note: the people wanted a part two so you get a part two lmao at midnight because I have no self control Summary: Y/N goes against her friends advice Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 2,159 Jack Hughes xfm!reader Part one

She sat in her car staring at the time hit midnight and she was seriously contemplating on driving home. She promised her friends that she would stop seeing him. Swore that the last time was the last time except she was sitting in his parking garage to his apartment. 

He asked her to come over and talk. Which usually led to them making out and falling asleep in each other’s arms. When she agreed to go over there and just talk, she had every intention of ending it with him. But now that she was sitting in the parking garage, her heart was starting to sing another song. 

Ever since they ended it, he has been treating her a lot better. Maybe it was the whole thing of finding out what you lost. 

Jack sent her another text, telling her that he was waiting for her upstairs. Her heart jumped in her throat and it suddenly got hard to breathe. She shouldn’t be nervous or even slightly nervous. They’ve continued this pattern since they broke up and she never used to have a problem with that. Well, until her friends got involved.

Y/N was much happier knowing that her adventures with her ex-boyfriend were just between herself and him. 

A sigh fell from her lips as she pulled her keys from her ignition and took a hold of her bag. She climbed out of her car, locking it in the process before she started walking towards the elevator.

After a few minutes she reached his apartment. Instead of knocking, she texted him. It was the rule they mutually and silently agreed upon. It was easier to keep his brother and her roommates not involved in what they were doing. 

It only took seconds for Jack to open the door, he had a toothy grin on his lips as he stepped aside letting her into the apartment. He locked it quickly before he wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a tight hug. A soft giggle from her lips as she pressed her head against his chest. 

His hands glided into her hair as he stumbled backwards slightly. “Hey goregous,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to the side of her head. Slowly, he pulled away from her, keeping his hands around her waist. “Come on,” he muttered. 

She started walking towards the hallway. Walking behind her, he rested his hands onto her stomach as he pulled her back against his chest. Another laugh left her lips as they continued to stumble towards his room. She pushed the door open as they both stepped inside. Slipping his hands away from her, he shut the door and twisted the lock.

Y/N turned around to meet his gaze and without hesitation he took a hold of her waist. She rested her hands onto the base of his neck. “Hey pretty boy,” she whispered as she scanned his features. A smirk toyed to his lips as he leaned towards her to try and kiss her but she pulled back. His lips fell into a pout as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Gorgeous?” he let out softly. 

“We need to talk before we do that,” she mumbled. He took a deep breath as he glided his hands up her back. 

“Yeah, we do,” he let out as he pointed towards the mattress. She climbed onto the mattress, sitting at the center of bed. He sat down beside her, keeping his gaze towards his lap. 

“I’m gonna talk and you’re going to listen,” she started as she pulled her knees towards her chest. Pursing his lips forward, he nodded. “We were together for almost two years and it was perfect for a while and then it was bad for long time. Like a long time. You treated me like I didn’t matter-”

“Y/N-”

“I’m gonna talk and you’re going to listen,” she said again as she met his gaze. He nodded, “I ended things with you because I thought I deserved better. Which I know I still do but here I am in your bed,” she muttered as she met his eye, “It’s been six months of us doing whatever this is and this is the best you’ve treated me. Which is saying a lot because what the hell are we doing?” she said, teary eyed.

At first, he didn’t say anything. 

She met his gaze, shaking her head slightly. “Can I talk now?” he asked, somewhat jokingly. 

“Yes,” she said, a giggle falling from her lips. She pushed him away. He chuckled as he took a deep breath. 

“I realized that I was letting everything get to my head and I let you slip away from me because I was a dick,” he muttered as he inched towards her. “When you ended things, I realized that I messed up and these past few months is me trying to fix things with you,” he leaned towards her, trying to meet her eye. Avoiding his gaze, she kept her gaze towards her lap. He took a hold of her chin, forcing her gaze towards him. “I don’t know what we’re doing but I’m enjoying every second of it,” he whispered.

“My friends all hate you, you know,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“I don’t think they’ve ever liked me,” he said with a teasing smirk on his lips. “But I’m going to try and fix this for as long as you’ll let me,” he whispered as he leaned towards her. He hovered his lips over hers for a moment, “How long will you let me?” he mumbled against her lips.

Instead of replying, she leaned towards him and kissed him urgently. Slowly, she climbed onto his lap. His hands delicately took a hold of her waist, gripping her body tightly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Hey,” he mumbled before she devoured his lips once more. He moaned against her lips as she tugged his hair. “Hey,” he said as he tilted his head back. Her lips fell into a pout as she leaned her head against his forehead.

“Jack,” she whispered, looking into his eyes.

“We can’t until-” he let out as his gaze dipped lower towards her lips. “Until we’re back together or we can’t if we’re not,” he mumbled as he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip.

She took in a deep breath, staring towards his lips. Her entire body was covered in goosebumps as her body was tingling. Leaning forward, she rested her head onto his shoulder, a groan falling from her lips. He chuckled as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. 

After a few seconds, she lifted her head; scanning his features. “You’re really making that boundary, right now? When I can feel-” he interrupted her with his laughter. “You’re an ass, you know that?” she teased as she took a hold of his cheeks. Her thumbs dragged across the apples of his cheeks.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as he lowered his gaze towards her lips again.

“I’m thinking-” she trailed off for a moment as she stared towards his lips and the grin forming to his lips. “I’m thinking my friends are going to hate me too,” she mumbled before she lifted her gaze to meet his gaze. His eyes squinted slightly as he shifted his gaze from one eye to the other multiple times. 

Leaning towards him, she kissed him urgently. He moaned against her mouth as he tugged her closer to him by the fabric of her t-shirt. “I kinda need you to say it,” he muttered between kisses. 

She pulled back and took a hold of her shirt and tossed it towards the floor. “We’re back together,” she let out before she took a hold of his shirt; tugging it up. 

“Are you only saying that so we would have sex?” he asked teasingly. Her eyes widened as she pulled his shirt from his body towards the floor. Her fingertips instantly began to glide along his muscle lines.

“I’m never that desperate,” she mumbled as she continued to watch his muscles tense under his touch. “We’re back together because I’m in love with you and you finally make me feel good,” she explained as she avoided his gaze. 

Taking a hold of her chin, her forced her to meet his eye. “I’m in love with you,” he said barely above a whisper. Her lips curled upward slightly as he glided his hand towards the base of her neck, pulling her towards him. He devoured her lips with his as she began to slowly grind against his lap. Her fingers glided through his hair as he tightened his hands around her waist. 

Tilting her head back, he began to trial wet kisses down her neck. He began to suck and bite her skin above her collarbone; purposely swirling his tongue along the reddening marks on her body. Her breathing quickened as she took a hold of his cheeks, lifting his gaze towards her. She pulled him towards her, kissing him.

“Lay down,” he mumbled against her lips. She nodded as she climbed off of his lap and laid down onto the bed. Jack stood up from the bed and slipped his gray sweatpants from his frame. A giggle fell from her lips before he climbed on top of her, he rested both of his hands on either side of her head as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

~~~

She laid in bed staring towards the ceiling watching the sun come up through his window as she covered her frame with his comforter. He was asleep beside her, facing towards the window. She was always the early riser in their relationship, he would sleep for twenty-four hours if he could. 

It was early, early enough that she probably could sneak out and Luke wouldn’t find out. But if they were back together, why was she worried about that. 

After a few more minutes of staring towards the ceiling and looking towards the sunrise, she heard Jack stir beside her. He rolled over and faced her. “So early, baby, why are you up?” he mumbled as he wrapped his arm around her stomach, he pulled her towards him. Jack pressed his lips against the side of her head. His eyes were still shut. She smiled softly.

“Usually sneak out at this time,” she mumbled. He chuckled as he pressed his lips against her head again.

“You don’t need to do that anymore, right baby?” he mumbled as he slowly sat up sleepily looking down towards her. She smiled up towards him as she delicately took a hold of his cheek. Y/N glided her thumb across his cheek. 

“No I don’t,” she mumbled. He smiled before he leaned down and delicately pressed his lips against hers. “Because we’re back,” she muttered against his lips. 

“So back,” he said teasingly as he took a hold of her thigh and pulled her towards him. She giggled as he kissed her again.

After another hour, she left Jack’s apartment alone because he had to go to morning skate. 

The entire drive back towards her apartment she was freaking out. She just got back together with the guy that her friends couldn’t hate more. 

She stepped back into her apartment to see Georgia and Bethany were chatting in their living room. They both held mugs in their hands as they were laughing. Y/N tried to sneak into the apartment without being noticed. 

But it didn’t take a single second for them to switch their gaze towards her. Y/N fought the smirk forming to her lips as she tried to walk straight towards her bedroom. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Bethany asked, a smirk on her lips. Georgia sat frustratingly as she brought her mug toward her lips. Y/N shook her head as she tried to continue towards her room. “No, Miss Thing, you gotta tell us who gave you that hickey and don’t you think about lying,” 

“Fine, fine-fine!” she said as she walked towards the living room. She glanced down towards her chest, to see the red spots covering several parts of her chest. “M-my boyfriend gave them to me,” she said barely above a whisper. 

“You did not! Girl I swear,” Georgia said as she shook her head.

“N-no, you don’t get to have an opinion anymore, okay? Is this a mistake? Probably, I don’t know! But this is my mistake to make. I love him and I’ve been happy with him and I’m gonna stay happy, okay. So be happy for me,” she explained as she tossed her jacket onto the couch. “And If I’m crying over him in a few months then you get to say I told you so,”

Georgia and Bethany shared a few glances before they nodded. “Okay, then,” they said at the same time.

[cjsoleil]

You’re My Angel Baby (Mingi x Reader)

Summary: Y/N goes to a Halloween party and ends up taking care of a cute, drunk cowboy outlaw. Mingi wakes up in the morning with a vague memory of a girl dressed as an angel, and decides he has to meet her.

Halloween night, and somehow Y/N got swindled into joining her best friend, Seonghwa and his boyfriend, Hongjoong, to some party one of their friends planned. It took a lot of convincing, and even more bribery, but she did agree to go. She's dressed in a all white, a flowey long in the back short in the front dress with pure white boots. She put a silver, sparkly and floral headpiece in her hair and beside her sits a pair of fake white angel wings that she’ll put on when she gets out of the car. A cliche yes, but it was a little last minute. She borrowed the wings from a friend.

“Again with the pirate costume Hongjoong?” Y/N teases from the backseat. Hongjoong is wearing a bandana, white jeans, white shirt that is kinda like a blouse and a jacket. Clearly a pirate, “Is that three years in a row now?”

“Shut up.” Hongjoong snaps his usual comeback.

“You should appreciate me more Joongie.” Seonghwa pats the hand resting on his thigh, “I’ve been adapting my costumes to fit yours for years.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want couples costumes!” That’s true, Seonghwa dressed up as a pirate too a few years back, then a parrot, now the mermaid, well, more like siren. He did his make up to suit his look, wearing a sparkly dress with baggy pants and he painted little scales around his ears, neck, and hands. It’s very much a DIY costume, but still very pretty. He’s going to run out of ideas soon. Y/N zones back in to see the car stopped at a red light and the two boys smiling at each other all cute. She groans and wonders how she’s ended up being these two perminate third wheel.

“Do I really have to come?”

“Sorry dear.” Seonghwa coos and looks back at his friend, “But we need a sober driver.”

“Besides. Your a nursing student, you can stop people from dying from alcohol poisoning.” Hongjoong adds.

“I cannot. You better not bring some shit faced frat boy to me and expect me to take care of him. Or her. Anyone. It’s not my job to take care of people outside my placement.” Because Y/N is not interested in dealing with whatever asshole drank too much. If they get alcohol poisoning from being stupid, it’s not anyone’s problem but their own.

“Whatever you say ratchet.”

“I’ll show you ratchet, Hongjoong.”

“Be nice you two.”

At the party, Y/N makes sure to stay close to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, and she smiles pleasantly at the people they talk to. Luckily it’s not all bad, Jongho and Yeosang are there too, so at least there’s some people she knows. She watches over her friends while they drink, making sure they don’t do anything very stupid. She can condone a little stupidity. It’s all very boring. She doesn’t have a lot of people that she can talk to, and she doesn’t have anything to really do. There’s some people dancing on the open floor, but she’d honestly rather die than become involved with that. On the bright side, someone had the decency to provide food. So after telling her friends, she wanders into the kitchen area and looks at what they have. There’s candy in a big bowl on the counter, and obviously a shit ton of alcohol she’s not able to drink, nothing great. She wishes they had cinnamon doughnuts or something, when a plate on the counter further away catches her eye.

“What the hell!” She whispers shouts, going over and grabbing an candy apple. There very clearly bought by an actual place that knows how to make them based off how well made they are. So she eats one. Or four. Who knows. Fuck she wishes they had a caramel apple too. Those are the best fall treats.

Someone else wanders into the kitchen, Y/N ignores him. Then the sound of glass breaking catches her attention. She turns her head to see a boy dressed as a cowboy staring at the broken cup on the floor, the cupboard at his head is open. He’s wearing a hat and a mask that covers the bottom half of his face, a leather jacket and tight pants. Despite not seeing much of his face, the boy is clearly drunk based off his heavy movements and pink ears. He’s also, Y/N must admit, very attractive. Maybe it’s the effect of the mask, but she just knows a pretty face hides under the mask. She watches as he kneels down, about to pick up the glass.

“Stop.” The boy looks up at her, stopping his movement, “Stay still. You're going to hurt yourself.” After making sure the boy is actually listening to her, Y/N looks around the kitchen for a broom or something. She doesn’t end up finding one, but she does find a rag, so she goes back to the boy, rag in hand just to see him with large pieces of glass in his hand.

“What did I just say?” Y/N sighs and cleans up the glass around the man and taking the piece from his hand, throwing it all out. She goes back to the still kneeling cowboy and crouches next to him, seeing his hand is bleeding. She cringes, not because of the blood, she’s used to that, but just because she imagines it hurts.

“Look at this. You should have listened to me.” She scolds, and the boy has enough sense to be ashamed, looking down.

“Sorry Angel.” He says, speech a little slurred and she can tell he’s pouting behind the mask, “Help me? Please?” Y/N sighs, looks like she’s playing caretaker tonight after all. At least he seems to be nice. She helps him stand up, which is a little hard because he’s much bigger than her.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.” She introduces herself as well.

“Well Mingi, let’s get to a bathroom so you can stop bleeding all over the place.” Y/N walks with Mingi, keeping a hand on his back and stabilizing him when he stumbles. Mingi cups his good hand under the bleeding one, but a few drops still get on the floor. She just ignores it, not her problem.

Y/N notices that people are watching her and Mingi, but she just gives them a dirty look when they catch her eye.

“People need to mind their business.” She mumbles, looking around for wherever the bathroom could be. She doesn’t just want to open random doors. More out of fear of being traumatized than out of respect for the homeowners privacy. She doesn’t even know whose party this is, it wouldn’t matter if she chose to snoop a little. Well, that’s a little hypocritical considering what she just said.

“There.” Mingi points to a closed door and Y/N opens it to see a bathroom.

“Okay, wash your hand and go sit on the toilet while I look for a bandage.” Mingi obeys and Y/N rifles through the medicine cabinet. She grabs bandages and isopropyl, as well as a cotton ball.

“Hold out your hand cowboy.”

“Outlaw.” She hears him mumble as she dips some of the isopropyl onto the cotton ball.

“Hm?”

“Outlaw, not cowboy.” Y/N smiles, and gently grabs Mingi’s hand.

“Outlaw, this may sting a bit.” She plays into his words, because what is the harm? While she doesn’t know the difference between an outlaw and a cowboy, she’s not about to start an argument over it. Mingi only cringes a little when he feels the disinfectant. Then Y/N grabs the roll of bandages, wrapping his hand. Mingi stares at her as she works.

“Pretty Angel.” He mumbles out, and Y/N just barely catches it.

“What a charmer.” She laughs, not taking the words of a drunk man seriously. After a few more moments, she’s done with the bandage.

“There.” She pats his hand a few times, “Now there won’t be blood all over the place. Well, anymore blood. I feel bad for whoever has to clean that up.” She laughs and he looks up at her, staring with wide eyes. He keeps his hand held out to her, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss it better please?” Now, anyone else and she would’ve said no instantly and walk away. But Mingi seems so genuine. And he’s so cute and sweet. So Y/N gives a quick kiss to the palm of his bandaged hand.

“Better?” Mingi nods excitedly. He’s still wearing his mask. He should probably take that off, what if he throws up?

“Mingi. Take off your mask please.” Mingi nods and lifts his good hand to his face, tugging at the fabric. But he doesn’t actually do anything efficient. Just how much did he drink? Finding this a little pathetic, Y/N decides doing it herself would be better.

“Mingi, how about I help you?”

“Sure.” She gets the mask off quickly, fingers just grazing against Mingi’s hot ears.

I was right she thinks when she sees Mingi’s face fully, he is hot. Okay, the stares make more sense now. She puts the mask on the sink.

“Thank you Angel.” He says, smiling at the girl.

“You do know that’s not my name right?” Based off Mingi’s confused look, it’s clear he does not understand that.

“Whatever. Do you have a friend to watch over you?”

“Yunho.” Mingi answers, a name Y/N is somewhat familiar with, “but he left. Don’t know where he is.” Y/N is irritated hearing that. Mingi’s friend just abandoned him while he’s clearly not in his right mind, what if someone took advantage of him? Or if he drank more and got alcohol poisoning, or made the stupid decision to drive? When this Yunho comes back, she’s going to give him a strong lecture on how to treat your intoxicated friends.

“We can hang out until he gets here then.” Mingi looks happy hearing that, smiling brightly.

“Thank you Angel.”

“You are so polite.” Y/N comments, and gives into her urge to pat his cheek gently. Then she helps him stand up again, but when he’s standing, Y/N notices that he looks a little off. She’s about to ask about it, but then she hears Mingi make a gagging sound.

“Shit!” She lifts the toilet seat and pushes Mingi to sit, just in time. Mingi throws up in the toilet, and Y/N rubs his back sympathetically. She takes off his hat and holds it in her other hand.

Once the sickness passes, Mingi leans back and is panting and sweating a little.

“Poor guy.” Y/N puts the hat on his lap before opening the drawer under the sink, grabbing a rag. She runs it over cold water and rings it out, before going back over to Mingi. She holds his chin and wipes his face gently. He hums in content.

“Feels good.” He hums again, Y/N compares him to a happy cat. When she’s done, she wets another rag and lays it over the back of his neck. She lets him be for a while, wanting the nausea to pass before even trying to move him again.

“Hey Mingi.” He looks over to her, blinking tiredly, “I’m gonna go do something real quick-“

“Noo.” Hands grab her wings, tugging at the fake feathers, “Don’t go.”

“It will only be for a minute.”

“Angel, stay with me please.” Y/N is left standing still. The sentiment means a lot more than it should, coming from a drunk man. She sighs, wondering whatever made her so soft hearted. Seonghwa and Hongjoong will just have to wonder where she is for a while. So she grabs the mouthwash from under the sink and fills the cap half way, giving it as well as a small cup she found for Mingi to spit in. When he does so, she cleans out the cup in the sink. Curse her for being so nice. And curse Mingi for being so cute. If he wasn’t, she probably would’ve just cleaned up his cut and let him be.

Okay, maybe she isn't really nice.

“Okay cowboy- sorry, outlaw.” She then clicks her tongue with though, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Want to go to my room.”

“Your room? Do you live here?” Mingi nods, stretching his neck.

“Yeah. With my roommates.” Well this makes things a little easier. She will simply bring Mingi to his bedroom so he can sleep this off, and he’ll wake up in the morning without any recollection of her, or anything else that happened tonight. As well as a massive hangover. He’ll probably have to skip class tomorrow, if he has any.

“Wait, do you know where you got those candy apples- actually don’t answer that. Are you feeling better?” Mingi nods, and Y/N squints her eyes at him, “Are you sure? Is your head dizzy, stomach hurting?”

“M’okay.” Well, he is definitely looking more alive than before, so Y/N choses to believe him.

“Up we go then.” She holds out her hands and Mingi grabs them, allowing her to hoist him up until he’s standing. Honestly, she’s pretty proud of herself for being strong enough to do that. When he’s stable, Y/N walks him down the hall until he points to a door, and tells her it’s his bedroom. She opens the door, and quickly ushers him to sit on his double bed that takes up most of the room. She understands the need though, he would never fit in a twin bed like her own.

“Tired Mingi?” The boy yawns in response, making her laugh. She helps Mingi with taking off his shoes and jacket, and Mingi takes off his own shirt.

Oh my god. Y/N has to stop himself from saying the words out loud. She can’t help it, he’s just so so hot. Like seriously, his face was beautiful enough as it is and his body- nope she can’t even think about it without feeling like a pervert. So she quickly pulls back the covers of the bed and gestures for Mingi to lay down there. Then she pulls the blankets over him. She stays standing beside the bed.

“There’s a place downtown that makes them.” Mingi says into the blankets.

“Makes what?”

“The apples. I don’t like sweet stuff very much, but I thought they’d be nice.” He yawns, “Expensive though.”

“I thought so.” Y/N laughs, before whispering playfully, “I’m pretty sure I ate like, half of them though. Sorry about that.”

“Did you like them?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth it.” Mingi smiles up at the girl, before patting the side of his bed. Y/N takes the invitation and sits.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Ruining your night.” Y/N smiles, and pets Mingi’s dark hair. She had already put his hat on his nightstand.

“Believe me or not, but this was the best part of my night Mingi.” And really, it was. She’s not into parties, nothing about them is appealing to her. As much as she complained about it to her friends earlier, this was a much more pleasant experience.

“Angel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re so beautiful. And kind.” Mingi lifts a hand, grabbing her arm and really underestimated his strength, pulling the girl on top of him. Letting out a yelp, Y/N plants her hands on the sides of Mingi’s head on the pillow. This leaves their faces only inches apart, and Y/N can smell the alcohol on Mingi. That makes her break eye contact with him and start to push her arms upwards. Before she can get far, Mingi cups her face with one hand, thumb under her chin and fingers splayed out on her cheek. The action puts her in such a state of shock, she doesn’t react in time to move away from him as he lifts his head up, pressing his lips to hers.

Her eyes widen and she quickly pulls away before the kiss can be considered anything more than a peck. Mingi whines when she pulls away.

“Mingi, no.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” She parrots, frowning a little, “You don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re my Angel baby.” He grins, lets out a little laugh before surging forward, kissing her again. Her mouth opens a little in surprise at being kissed again, giving Mingi the chance to push his tongue into her mouth, the taste of cheep beer still present. And Y/N is just disillusioned enough to lean in for a moment, and she probably would have actually reciprocated if her mind was any more fogged up from a simple kiss. But she’s not about to kiss someone who can’t possibly understand what they’re doing. Maybe kiss someone more would be more accurate.

So she pulls away again, this time pushing a hand on Mingi’s chest to keep him laying down flat on the bed. Mingi groans a little, a complaint, but doesn’t say much more. Until out of nowhere, he mutters.

“We should go out tomorrow.” Only a little fazed, Y/N shakes her head at the question.

“Honey, you’re probably not going to be able to stand properly tomorrow. Just go to sleep.” She continues to pet Mingi’s head, until she’s sure that he’s asleep. Standing up, she grabs the trash can in the corner of the room and puts it next to the bed. Then she grabs a sticky note from his desk and a pen. She writes a quick note, puts it on the nightstand before leaving the room, making sure to close the door as gently as he can.

The party is dwindling down, Y/N notes. So she easily finds Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when he sees her, “I was worried sick!”

“Sorry Hwa.”

“What were you doing?” Hongjoong questions.

“Playing nurse. Are you ready to go?”

“What happened to ‘I’m not taking care of some drunk loser’?”

“I guess he changed my mind.”

“He?” Seonghwa grins, making Y/N get this sudden feeling of dread, “Who was it? Was he hot? Was he nice to you? Of course he was, you would’ve kicked him to the curb if he was mean-“ Seonghwa trips over nothing, Hongjoong just catches him.

“Careful baby.”

“Thanks Joongie.” Seonghwa leans over and kisses the younger boy. Y/N pretends to gag.

“Wait, why is your face so red?”

“Let’s just go! Please.”

“Fine. You have to tell us all about this guy though!”

“Yeah yeah.”

When Mingi wakes up, he instantly wishes to be asleep again. His head hurts, and he feels so sick he can barely move. God, he shouldn’t have drank so much last night. He sits up, only to be hit with a wave of nausea that has him nearly doubled over.

“Fuck…” he takes a few deep breaths before standing up, groaning as he does so. He notices the trash can by his bed, and wonders how he had enough sense to grab that. Yunho must have moved it for him. His jacket, shoes and shirt are off, as well as his hat. Yunho must have done that too. He takes off his shirt and puts on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the bathroom.

When he comes out, he goes to the living room where Yunho greets him.

“Hey man-“

“Shhh.” Mingi holds his head in his hands as he sits on the couch, “Too loud.” Yunho’s voice was really just barely above a whisper.

“How much did I drink yesterday?”

“I stopped counting after the second beer and the third shot.”

“I swear Yunho, I’m never getting drunk again.” He looks down at his bandaged hand, and tries to recall exactly what he did to hurt himself.

“What happened to my hand?”

“How would I know?”

“Weren’t you the one that wrapped it?” Yunho stares at him with a surprised face.

“Damn, do you really not remember anything from last night?” Mingi shrugs.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I left around half way through with a few others to grab some beer and you insisted that you stay here. You kept on saying ‘I’m feeling great’ so I just told you to be careful and left. By the time I came back, you were tucked into bed and sleeping like the dead.” Mingi nods along, realizing he can’t rely on Yunho to fill in the blanks of his memory.

“Wait actually, I saw a note on your nightstand.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. Didn’t read it though.”

“Okay. Can you get me some painkillers or something?”

“Sure.” Mingi goes to his bedroom and there on the nightstand, is a bright pink sticky note. He grabs it and reads the words in black ink.

Hey Mingi,

I can imagine you have quite the hangover today, you were pretty drunk last night. Make sure to clean that cut of yours and wrap it up again, though it will probably be all healed in a few days (The power of a little kiss). Maybe I’ll see you around. Anyways, take care outlaw.

Yours, Angel.

Angel. Images of a woman with no clear face fills his mind. White feathers, the feeling of warm lips on his palm and a hand running through his hair.

Mingi comes out of his room, still holding the note.

“Yunho, did you see anyone dressed as an angel yesterday?”

“It was Halloween. Many people were. Why?”

“The girl that took care of me dressed as one. But I can’t remember her name.”

“What did she look like?”

“Uhh..” Mingi sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “She was pretty? Look, I’ll know her when I see her.”

“Does that really matter?” Yunho asks, tilting his head, “I mean, yeah, I get that she took care of you. That was very nice of her, but do you have to meet her?”

“Of course I do.” Mingi lays back down on rhe couch, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god you have a thing for her. You have a thing for a girl who’s name you do not know, you don’t know what she looks like and know nothing about her as a person.”

“Not true.” Mingi objects, “I know she’s sweet, pretty, angelic.” Mingi snorts, “Oh, and that she likes candy apples.”

“Whoa Mingi, sounds like it’s time to pop the question to Miss Angel.”

“I wish she would’ve left her number.” Mingi complains, placing a pillow over his face.

“Well, I’ll ask around if anyone knows her, but it’s gonna be hard without knowing anything about her.”

“Thanks Yunho.”

“I’m heading to class, you staying in?” Mingi nods slightly, “Thought so. Painkillers are in the kitchen.”

“Thanks Yunho. See ya.”

“Later.”

The next day, Mingi actually does go to school. He was hoping that miraculously, Angel would be in one of his classes. Unfortunately, this was not the case for him. Yunho, like he said, mentioned her to some people but at last, no luck. Really though, he didn’t expect more. At the moment, he’s at a cafe near campus with Hongjoong and San, doing a little group review.

“Where’s your other half?” San questions Hongjoong, wondering where the older boy is.

“He’s in the library.”

“And you left him alone?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

“I would’ve followed, but Seonghwa said that I couldn’t since he and ratchet were studying for biology I think.”

“Ratchet?” Mingi questions.

“Y/N. Seonghwa’s nursing friend.”

“That is so mean of you.” San says, shaking his head at Hongjoong nicknaming this poor girl after a crazy murderous nurse. Mingi finds the name a little familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it, so he doesn’t question it.

“You weren’t in class yesterday.” San states.

“Yeah, i had this massive hangover. Felt dead.”

“What happened with your hand?”

“I don’t remember, but I think I cut it on a piece of glass or something.”

“Damn, you really were wasted.” Mingi can only agree.

“Please please please please-“

“Seonghwa.”

“Y/N please just tell me about this guy.” Seonghwa begs, shaking Y/N’s shoulders. She was supposed to tell him on the way home from the party, but he fell asleep right away. And yesterday they were too busy, “You don’t even need to tell me who it was.”

“Fine.” Y/N relents, shutting her text book, “He was tall, handsome and sweet.”

“Oh!” Seonghwa puts his hands over his heart, “All one could want in a man.”

“You only have two of the three.” Seonghwa kicks her but is still laughing.

“He asked if he could go out with me?”

“What? You said yes right?” Y/N shrugs.

“I didn’t say anything. It was just talk anyways. He was drunk.”

“Either way, you should have left your number with him.”

“No point, he didn’t even know my name. Just called me Angel the whole night.”

“That is so cute but unhelpful.” Seonghwa sighs, “What did you guys even do?” She tells her friend about the boy cutting himself by accident and having to clean up his cut, and tuck him into bed.

“So cute.” He analyzes his friend for another moment, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. I can tell. What’s up?” Y/N dramatically groans and puts her heads in her hands, mumbling her words, “Excuse me?”

“We may have… kissed.”

“You kissed!” Seonghwa exclaims, Y/N is quick to shush him.

“Shut up!”

“Sorry this is just crazy to me.”

“What is? That guys only want to kiss me when they’re drunk?”

“Ha. Who initiated it?”

“Him obviously.”

“Come on! Give me the details.” Y/N can’t refuse.

“He kissed me, I said that was irresponsible, he kissed me again and fell asleep like five minutes after.” Seonghwa aw’s as Y/N dramatically rests her head on her arms.

“Wait, is this not cute? Were you not okay with it? If not, I’ll find him and beat him up.” Y/N looks up at him, “Fine, Hongjoong will beat him up.” A long pause, “Jongho will beat him up.”

“There you go. But no, it was… fine? Really, If he was sober, I probably would have actually kissed him back.” Though if he was sober, she’s sure neither of them would have paid the other any mind whatsoever.

“You know if you tell me his name I could probably find him and you set you guys up.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Noo.” Seonghwa pulls the girl into a hug, “We love you.”

“If you do, can we stop talking about this and study.”

“Fine. I have to go soon though, I said I’d meet up with Hongjoong later. Would you like to accompany us?”

“Ew.”

“You won’t be saying that when you and mystery boy get together. We can go on a double date!”

“Stop pushing your couple agenda on me.”

After a few hours of studying at the café, the two boys start to back up their bags to leave. San has already left. They hear the bell at the door ring, and Mingi’s sees Seonghwa make his way towards the table.

“Hey Joongie.” Seonghwa greets Hongjoong, leaning down to kiss his cheek before saying hi to Mingi.

“How are you guys?” He asks while sitting down.

“Good.” “Slightly hungover.” Seonghwa snorts at Mingi’s comment. But his laughter stops when he sees the bandage on Mingi’s hand.

“Hey, what happened with your hand?” Mingi looks down at his hand.

“I think I cut it on something, but I don’t really remember.”

“Huh.” Seonghwa hums for a moment before his eyes lighten up.

“Mingi, do you remember anything from your party?”

“A little bit yeah, why?”

“Did you spend anytime with a girl there? She-“

“Angel?” Mingi asks, wide eyed. He was planning to ask Hongjoong about her before they left.

“She was dressed as an Angel yes!” Seonghwa claps his hands in joy, “I’m so smart, I thought this would take longer to figure out.”

“Ohh.” Hongjoong says, just clueing in, “Mingi was the guy Y/N watched over at the party? Man, you didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know who she was! I was gonna ask you if you knew a girl dressed as an angel.”

“Small world.” Seonghwa smiles, “She said you asked her out, is that true?”

“I really don’t know, sorry Hwa.” Mingi runs a hand through his hair, “But I’d love to actually meet her, thank her in person at least. Could you give me her number?” Seonghwa shakes his head.

“No, she’d be upset if I did that.” Patting the table, Seonghwa thinks, “but… if you did happen to run into her outside class, well that would be fate.”

“Would you?”

“I’ll text you her next class right now.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You’d be good together.”

“What?”

“Let’s go Hwa, bye Mingi.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa leave, and Mingi choses to ignore Seonghwa’s comment.

He leaves the café and starts walking back to his place. The street he’s on has a ton of little shops and bakeries, so he window shops a little as he makes his way. The a sight makes him stop. There in the window, is a display case of different candy apples. A picture plays in his mind, of a pretty girl in an Angel costume eating the candied fruit in his kitchen. His phone buzzes from his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees a text from Seonghwa. He texted the younger the building, classroom number, as well as the start and end times.

Are you sure she won’t mind?

It’s fine! Tell her I sent you

I’m glad I can blame you

Great. Have fun ;)

Mingi looks at the display case again, before stepping inside.

I hate kinesiology Y/N thinks as she steps out of her classroom. She makes her way out of the building, weaving through the crowd of people. When she’s outside, just a few meters away from the building door, she feels someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she sees a sight she wasn’t expecting to see so soon.

“Mingi?”

“Hi Angel.” Mingi grins with a small blush on his face, one hand held behind his back.

“Isn’t this a surprise.” Y/N can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, um, I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me the other night. You didn’t have to.” Y/N shakes her head, waving a hand in the air.

“No problem. I’m surprised you remember me.” Mingi blushes more, and shifts his feet.

“Well, I kinda didn’t. But I saw your note and remembered a girl dressed as an angel, but not what you looked like.”

“Hm.” Y/N hums, and crosses her arms, shifting her weight to her right leg, “Disappointed?”

“God no.” Mingi answers immediately, “You’re pretty.”

“You said that.”

“Did I?”

“Multiple times. Thank you. How do you know who I am though? If you didn’t know what I looked like.” Mingi looks a little flustered and avoids eye contact.

“I ran into Seonghwa and he figured that you were the one who took care of me because of, well, this.” He lifts his own bandaged hand, “He told me your name and that you were here and that your class would be ending around this time so I came by to see if I could catch you. And I knew I would recognize you once I saw you. Even without the wings.” He spoke so fast, Y/N barely caught all of his words.

“I see. How’s the hand?”

“Good, uh, I was wondering what you meant, by your note?”

“The kiss comment?” Y/N laughs uncomfortably, pulling at the ends of her hair, “Well, um, you did ask me to kiss your hand better…”

“And?”

“You- don’t be upset please- you did kiss me. Twice.” Mingi looks ready to combust from the embarrassment he’s feeling.

“I did? Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were-“

“Please don’t say I was drunk. That’s no fucking excuse.” Y/N smiles softly.

“Fine. I forgive you.” Mingi laughs.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily. Here.” He pulls the box from behind his back and presents the caramel apple to her.

“For you.” He tells her, watching as the girl gives him an expression of pure joy.

“You-“ Y/N starts, taking the boxed caramel apple from Mingi’s hand, “Are the sweetest.” It seems that Mingi remembered a little more than she thought.

“Seonghwa said that I apparently asked you out.” Y/N nods in agreement, Mingi takes a deep breath, “I wanted to let you know that the question is still open, I’d love to go out with you.” Silence is all he gets in response. He feels a sense of dread in his stomach, but that soon leaves when he actually looks at the girl to see that she looks… flustered?

“Really? Um, yeah that- that would be nice.”

“And…” Mingi takes a breath, stepping closer to the girl. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it in the nape of her neck.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could I get a little reminder of what I forgot?” Blood rushes to Y/N’s ears and her heart beats faster. She brings her hands to his shoulders, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt.

“I suppose I can.” Mingi leans down and brings his face close to the girl. Before his lips can meet hers though, Y/N covers his mouth with her hand, “Not now.” Mingi grabs her wrist and kisses the palm of her hand.

“After an actual date.” Where I don’t witness you throw up. She doesn’t say that know. She doesn’t want to embarrass him too much just yet. With a quick motion of his wrist, Mingi links their hands and brings them down.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“On a date. Duh.” Y/N grins.

“Aw, our first, completely sober date!”

“I’m never drinking that much again.”

When Halloween rolled around the next year, Mingi did, in fact, drink that much again. It’s okay though, he still had an angel to take care of him.