#and there's something about that that is really. special? to him.
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shawtuzi · 3 days ago
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here’s a random best friend!eren drabble bc im bored
cw include: black coded reader, some drug usage (weed), unprotected sex, backshots, sex standing up, sex onna floorrr, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, some choking [ inspo vids: 1 2 3 ]
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“you sure about this y/n? i don’t want things to get weird . . .” eren mumbled, his hands fidgeting with the loops on his jeans—something he always did when he was nervous. you just giggled, your mind too cloudy and in a horny daze to care that your about to fuck your childhood best friend.
you were sitting at the edge of your bed with eren standing right in front of you, his large frame towering over yours. his breath hitched when you grabbed onto the hem on his jeans, your chin now resting on his lower stomach. you looked at him through your freshly done lashes, your eyes low n’ red from the blunt you previously smoked together.
“i jus’ wanna see what’s got those girls all crazy about you ren,” you practically purred, smirking when you saw his teeth clamp onto his bottom lip. you could feel the firm bulge in his jeans, your manicured nails trailing up and down the length of it.
“oooo s-shit, f-fuck okay yeah get on all fours.”
sometime later….
“o-oh my goddd, f-fuck erennnn!” your arms flailed behind you to push as eren’s stomach, but him being the dickhead he is, just grabbed your wrists and held you still. he had you bent over the bed, your feet pushing up to your tippy toes to keep up with his brutal thrusts.
“no no don’t run mama—fuck, jus’ take it. cmon fuck me back, fuck renny back,” you pitifully shook your head, salty tears seeping into your comforter.
in all the years you’ve known eren you weren’t aware of the fact that he had such a dirty mouth. filthy praises and promises were flying past his kiss swollen lips left and right, so much so it was making you even more dizzy than you already were.
“who knew my best friend had such a pretty lil’ pussy,” eren breathlessly chuckled, his tongue swiping against his bottom lip as he admired the milky white ring of your essence coating the base of his cock. “n-no eren, too fuckin’ deep s-shit!” you cried, legs trembling as eren pushed all of his weight into your backside. he swiveled his hips, determined to reach that special spot deep inside you.
“heh, now y’see why those girls w-won’t leave me alone, dick is too fuckin’ good ain’t it mama,” eren groaned, smacking your ass harshly. eren wasn’t the best at a lot of things, not that he even really tried to be, but one thing he knew he was good at was beating up some lucky girls guts. sure he wasn’t slanging nine inches, but don’t get it twisted he knew how to use his six and a half inches very, very well. after all it’s not about the size of the wave, but the motion of the ocean or whatever the fuck.
he pulled you up by the neck, keeping you still against his chest. your legs trembled, your hands pushing back softly against eren’s thighs to steady yourself. “this is my favorite way to fuck, it’s so fun watching girls try to run just for me to fuck them to the floor,” he finished off his sentence by licking the shell of your ear, grinning when he felt your body shiver.
“you’re—hah! you’re s-sick ren.”
“shittt say that again baby,” eren groaned, sliding halfway out before slamming back inside. his free hand found purchase on your breast, the other hand squeezing lightly at your neck. “you’re *thrust* so fucking *thrust* s-sick eren!” you gasped out, your hands flinging behind you to tug at eren’s disheveled bun.
all a sudden black dots clouded your vision and your ears began to ring—well this was definitely new. “fuck, you squirtin’ mama?” eren was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, his other hand still securely wrapped around your throat. he fucked you through your orgasm, hearts forming at how soaked his thighs were now. he’s never had a squirter before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to leave this life after you two were done!
“i *hiccup* didn’t even k-know i could do that,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back when eren started up a steady rhythm. your pussy felt so sensitive, yet each time he pulled out you wanted him back inside that instant. your legs felt like jello and you knew any moment they were bound to give up.
you took a shaky step towards your bed but eren just followed, his lips upturning into a smirk. now comes his favorite part.
“r-ren okay! okay i get ittt,” you sobbed out, gasping as your knees met the plushness of your carpet. eren remained inside you the entire time, wasting no time as he pushed your face into the carpet until your back with positioned into the perfect arch. as crazy as it sounded each slap of his balls against your clit felt like electricity shooting through your veins, causing nothing but moans and babbles to slip past your drooling lips.
“fuck m’gonna cum mama, get ready,” with four final thrusts eren emptied himself inside you, coating your walls in his sticky warmth. your body slumped more into the carpet, your eyes fluttering shut. eren pulled out slowly, laughing when your lower half fell with a dull thud.
“i *sniffle* see your point,” you whimpered, your back arching when your clit rubbed against the carpet. eren grinned, sitting back on his knees before gently turning your body over. he tapped your thigh softly, “push it out . . . please.”
you rolled your eyes, not looking forward the even bigger mess it would make, but you did as you were told. eren let out a long breath through his nose as he watch he cum drip out of you in thick globs. he peered at you through his lashes—
“we should, um, do this again sometime.”
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webbluvrsugar · 2 days ago
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earlyseasons!spencer making you squirt.
cw: doesn’t mean sub!spencer, it’s more like eager Spencer experimenting on reader, written mostly for funsies.
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Every since you and Spencer have been messing — fucking — around, you’ve noticed that he’s been a little shy, at least at first, his touch has been gentle but also… experimental, the way he looks at you when you’re under him and pushes you just a little harder almost makes you feel like like he’s studying you, testing something on you. But he’s a profiler, he’s learned that you don’t mind, so when he comes with the proposition of trying to make you squirt, you’re doubtful, specially as he pushes you down on your bed — already naked.
“Spencer, you don’t really need to do this, I —“ you try to speak but he’s quick to interrupt you, his hands running down your thighs.
“I know, I just.. I just want to try something new, just for a bit,” he hushes, eyes looking up to you for approval as he puts away his glasses and when Spencer says ‘just for a bit’ he is indeed just… lying, lying to your face.
His tongue licks a fat strip up your folds, it’s bold, something that he’d at first would hesitate to do, gently circling your clit before he attaches his lips onto it, gently sucks and his fingers go up to spread you further.
Spencer’s tongue feels good, but by now, you know that he would’ve already tried to stick a finger or two in you, but he doesn’t, it almost seems like he’s trying to reach this personal goal of his all with his mouth, and he’s doing a good job at it, because his tongue prods at your entrance and you arch your back, softly moaning, head throwing back and meeting your pillow.
“How does that feel?” He questions as if you need to answer for him to know it.
But still, you nod again, “Good,” you whisper, hand going down to grab at the sheets.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He grins, cocky, before his mouth latches onto your cunt again.
He devours you, nose bumping into your clit as his tongue precisely chooses where to run through, your breath being taken from your lungs when it caresses your insides one more time, the warm tip of the muscle moving within you.
“Spence,” you whimper, your knees struggling to keep themselves in place as he pulls back and pays attention to your swollen pearl one more time.
“Close?” He asks, tongue licking up a few more times through your folds, trying to get all up in there.
“Mh — Mhm,” you moan, a pleased sigh following suit.
“Did you know that —“ he pauses, “statistically, only thirty-five to fifty percent of women have experienced squirting mid sex—“ he presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt. “But it depends on the method, I’ve read about it, we can try and see if this will be the one for you.”
And for someone who’s so used to talking, Spencer finally goes to quiet after a while and focus on your pussy, paying extra attention to what you like, guiding himself with your moans and gentle curses.
“Spence—“ with that, he thinks this really might be his chance of getting you to do it the first try, so his lips wrap around your clit one last time, only letting go when he hears a hushed cry of his name escape your lips— “Spencer!” A stream of fluid expels from you, and he watches in awe, slightly tilting his head as your body shivers and writhes right before him.
His hands gently caress your thighs, fingers letting go of your folds, his eyes finally meeting yours when you take a breath and before you can speak, he notes;
“Let’s do it again, maybe you’ll do it quicker if I actually use my fingers…”
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sabsberries · 3 days ago
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birthday sex
summary - it wouldn't really be a happy birthday without some birthday head
w.c. - 2.2k
warnings - smut, oral (m! receiving), biting idk, swearing, use of y/n, first person, fiancé Harry!!!
masterlist | taglist
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When I first met Harry, I quickly realised that one of his biggest fears was growing old. He had never explicitly told me, but I could tell that as the plans we made as freshly turned twenty-one year olds grew closer, Harry’s fear seemed to grow with them. Touring Italy at twenty-five? Perfect. Turning twenty-five? Terrifying. A weekend away in France for his twenty-seventh? Wonderful. Becoming a twenty-seven year old? The worst thing in the world.
I could only imagine the turmoil in his head these past few days, gnawing away at the peaceful thoughts that usually came with his well-earned touring breaks—leaving behind nothing but a big, hot, steaming pile of insecurity and fear.
Of course, he would never admit it—not to his family, not to his friends, and especially not to me. But I saw it in the smallest of ways. The way his lip quivered when he spoke about the future, the slight furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched, as if bracing for impact. He talked about growing old with me like it was a dream, but his body betrayed him. He hated it.
Now, though, he looked at peace. The early morning light spilled through the curtains, casting soft shadows over his face as he slept, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. For a few quiet moments, there was no fear, no tension—just him, lost in sleep, untouched by the weight of the day ahead. But today was his birthday.
I watched him, my fingers tracing invisible patterns against the sheets as I ran through every idea I had. I could make him breakfast, of course. Or maybe we could find a new café to try. Or we could even stay in and order something special. That’d be nice. But none of it felt enough. None of it could shield him from the inevitable, the thing he was dreading so much. I wanted today to be perfect for him, but how do you make peace with something that’s impossible to avoid?
He shifted slightly, his fingers twitching as if searching for something. A faint sigh escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering open just a crack before closing again, as though trying to hold on to the last remnants of sleep. His eyes slowly opened, the brightness of the room pulling him fully awake. For a moment, he lay still, blinking at the ceiling as if waiting for the world to make sense again. Then, his gaze drifted to me—soft, familiar, but there was something else in it today, something hidden, almost hesitant.
"Good morning, Birthday Boy." I mumbled, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Morning, my love." His voice was husky, tinged with humour. "What time is it?"
"Only half nine, or something. Way too early to be awake on a Saturday."
He yawned and nodded slightly, rubbing his eye. "Come here." His hand found my waist, pulling me on top of him, his grin never fading.
I laughed as he pulled me onto his stomach, my legs straddling his waist, the duvet tangled around us. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes hazy with sleep, and his lips stretched into a wide, easy grin. "What do you want to do today?" I whispered, grabbing his hands and absently fiddling with his ringless fingers.
"Dunno. Nothing, really." His grin deepened, and his gaze never wavered from mine. His fingers twitched, almost as if he wanted to hold onto mine, but he stopped himself.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing." He reaffirmed, voice soft. "I'd quite like to spend it doing fuck all with my fiancé. Who, by the way, hasn’t even given me my birthday kiss yet."
"Well, excuse me for wanting to let you wake up before bombarding you." I laughed, placing a hand on his chest and pushing it down when he tried to lean up to meet me.
I leaned down instead, brushing my lips against his, soft at first—just a gentle pressure, a playful reminder that I was here. His breath caught for a second, as if he hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon, but he melted into it, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer, as if testing the distance between us.
The kiss deepened, slow and easy, like it had a quiet promise behind it. His lips moved against mine with a delicate urgency, as though making sure this moment would be just ours. I let myself get lost in it, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest.
For a while, neither of us spoke, the world outside fading into nothing but the softness of the kiss, the comfort of knowing the other was there, and for a brief moment, all the worries that clung to Harry seemed to be forgotten. 
His lips curved into a smirk against mine, but there was something else there now—something heavier. His hands, which had been resting lightly on my back, gripped tighter, his fingers pressing into my skin like he was trying to hold me there, just a little longer. The shift between us was subtle at first, a slight change in the way his mouth moved against mine, the way his breath hitched between kisses. But then, like a current pulling me under, it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was heat, need, something deeper. I pulled back just enough to look at him, my forehead resting against his.
"Happy birthday, Harry," I whispered, the words feeling more weighty now than they ever had before.
He hummed quietly, his head shaking ever so slightly, and lifted his face so that our lips could slot back together. It was different now. It was almost hungry, and the way his lips took dominance over mine certainly matched the tone.
His hands slid under my shirt, warm and deliberate as he traced the curve of my waist, fingers brushing along the skin with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. There was nothing innocent about it now. His touch was purposeful, searching, as if each movement of his hand was an attempt to tether me to him, to ground us both in this moment.
I could feel the weight of his gaze as it shifted, his eyes darkening just slightly when they met mine. The playful grin from moments before was gone, replaced by something more intense, almost desperate. It made my heart race faster, my pulse fluttering in my chest.
I leant down again, however this time to pepper light, barely there, kisses along his jawline and neck, slowly increasing in pressure until I reached just above his collarbone, where I sunk my teeth in. "Oh shit!" He hissed, bucking his hips up against mine and letting out a breathy laugh at the way it made me moan.
I moved down his chest, nipping after every few kisses, and occasionally darting out my tongue to sooth over any particularly harsher bites, before shimmying down his hips, placing a small 'thank you' kiss just above his belly button as he spread his legs enough for me to climb between.
His grey boxers had formed a darker patch where the tip of his dick had begun leaking, and, despite being covered by fabric, I could tell he had to be painfully hard by now. I pressed a delicate kiss on the wet patch, pushing out my tongue to slightly swipe across it before moving back down to his thighs and kissing from his meaty inner thigh up to his hip bone.
"Please, Y/N, c'mon." He practically cried, his hand moving to scoop a handful of hair into a ponytail, but not doing much to move my head aside from a gentle tug.
"Be patient." I mumbled, sinking my teeth into his inner thigh.
"Holy— fuck!" He exclaimed, his leg jostling in surprise.
I let go and used my tongue to sooth over the area before placing a final kiss, and moving back up.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down his thighs just enough so I could have full access. His dick truly looked painful, with his tip a deep red with precum leaking from the top, and his base thick with his veins slightly enlarged. I dipped my head down and wrapped my lips around his tip, barely sucking whilst my tongue moved around in circles.
Once again, his hips shot up, pushing his dick further into my mouth, and a loud, deep, guttural moan escaped from him, "Oh my fuckin— oh, shit, baby!"
With one hand, I pushed his shaking hips back down onto the bed whilst the other wrapped around his base, using the spit that trailed from my mouth as lube as I bobbed my head up and down.
I pulled my hand away and relaxed my jaw, allowing Harry deeper down my throat whilst my hands massaged deep circles into his hip bones.
“Shit I— please, Y/N.” He whined. I looked up at him and felt my cheeks heating at the sight of his head thrown back, his chest heaving and his abs clenched tight.
My jaw was already beginning to ache, but I didn’t care. The way he was whimpering and whining and crying out was enough motivation to plough through.
I pulled up completely. My hand shot back to continue a steady pace with my thumb encircling his tip, pushing over his slit every few seconds.
“Please, can I?” He asked, his cheeks flushed a deep pink colour, his lips red and raw from him biting them, and his eyes slightly clouded over and barely open.
I grinned, already knowing what he wanted to do, and nodded my head, allowing him to scoop up all of my hair into a ponytail and guide me back to his cock. His hand moved to replace mine, and after a couple pumps, his dick was being led right back into my open mouth.
Almost immediately, my tongue began working overtime, running up and down the vein in the underside of his cock, whilst I was gently sucking. “Okay, you ready?” He questioned, shifting his hips and propping up both of his legs so that his feet were flat against the bed.
I hummed ‘yes’, and once again relaxed my jaw. At first, his thrusts were slow, careful. Then, his grip on my hair tightened. His hips snapped forward, his movements gaining purpose. The sounds between us were obscene, messy, breathless, desperate. Each time his tip hit the back of my throat, I moaned louder, my body reacting on instinct.
As his thrusts got sloppier, Harry’s whimpers turned into groans, his back arched away from the bed, and his grip on my hair became almost impossibly tight.
“I’m gonna– shit! I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, his spare hand clutching the bedsheets next to his waist.
I bobbed my head to match the timings of his thrusts, and with one final dig of my nails into his thigh and a loud whimper, he was shooting hot bursts of cum down my throat. His grip loosened with every groan, moan, and whine that escaped him, and, after a minute or so of silence, he was quick to rub the back of my scalp and pull me off of his dick and up towards him.
"You’re fucking amazing. Do you know that?" He chuckled, breathlessly, his chest rising and falling beneath me. His hair was damp at the edges, sticking slightly to his forehead, and a faint sheen of sweat glowed against his flushed skin.
I grinned, my heart swelling at the way he looked at me, like I was something to be treasured. "I think I’ve heard it before—once or twice."
His breathing slowed, his grip on me loosening as exhaustion crept in. I traced slow circles over his ribs, my touch light, grounding him. He hummed, content, his fingers skimming lazily up my arm before coming to rest over my heart.
Our faces mirrored each other, wide, unabashed smiles stretching across pink-tinted cheeks. I traced my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness where stubble had started to grow. His eyes, still heavy with sleep and something softer, never left mine.
I shifted slightly, pressing my forehead against his, breathing him in - warm, familiar, safe. "I love you. Happy birthday." My voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried everything I meant.
His fingers ghosted over my waist before pulling me closer, his grip firm yet gentle, like he needed to feel me against him. His smile softened, the playfulness still there, but something deeper flickered in his gaze. "I love you more."
For a moment, neither of us moved. The world outside didn’t matter; the ticking of the clock, the slow morning sun creeping across the sheets, the quiet hum of the city beyond our window. There was just us, tangled in warmth, the weight of the day which lay ahead momentarily forgotten.
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taglist - @harryshouseo1 @hannah9921 @hisparentsgallerryy @secretisme4 @cloudyluun @mads3502 reply here or dm to be added!
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lookingforuravity · 1 day ago
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THE ONLY EXCEPTION
♫ now playing - the only exception by paramore
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bakugou x reader
word count: 1,827 words
IN WHICH each time your friends caught bakugou only being nice to you.
a/n: still 'fool for you' just changed the title (≧ω≦)
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“i've never seen him so.. calm.”
“right? he's always so uptight.”
the two friends were peering over the couch as they watched bakugou and y/n sleep soundlessly. there was a serene look drawn on his face while he held y/n closely to him, her hand resting softly on his chest as their chests rose up and down simultaneously.
“how come he's so much nicer to her than any of us?” kirishima complained with a pout stitched on his lips. he'd been friends with bakugou way before (two months) him and y/n got together. where was his special treatment?
“they're dating duh. why wouldn't he be nice to her?” mina replied as gazed at the couple with a soft gaze in her eyes. their young, teenage love was truly admirable.
even if bakugou seemed to have a stick up his ass 24/7.
the couple twitched softly in their sleep. it had been a long and stressful day of endless amounts of training, and lord knew that they both needed a break. a thin blanket was all that covered their bodies, but anybody could make out the way bakugou held her waist and the way y/n laid her hand on his chest underneath the sheet.
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the usually quiet library turned into a circus as it filled up with bakugou's grumbling, denki's whines, and y/n's giggling. the sight of bakugou repeatedly smacking denki on the head with rolled up paper was an entertaining sight to distract her from her note-taking.
“are you seriously this stupid?” bakugou growled as he peered over the blonde's notebook, erasing and scribbling over any mistakes he made. denki pouted while rubbing his head on the spot that bakugou smacked. “c'mon.. it's really not that easy!” denki whined.
bakugou's vermillion eyes narrowed at denki. “it's basic algebra! how did you even get this far if you can't do simple math?!” he snapped.
denki continued to pout as he grumbled under his breath, something about bakugou lacking basic respect.
“uh.. katsuki?” y/n called out hesitantly.
though he still kept the glare on his face, the way his body language softened was visible, and how his tone contrasted from denki to her was plain obvious. “what?”
she turned over her notebook towards him so he can see her work. “i think i did it wrong.. can you check it?”
bakugou grabbed her notebook and skimmed over her work. “yeah.. here, let me explain.” he leaned over closer to her, close enough to where she can smell caramel on his skin.
denki's mouth fell agape as he watched how the guy went from raising hell on him to looking like he was practically skipping in a field of flowers inside his head. “that is SO not fair! how come you're so much nicer to her than me?!”
“cause she's not an idiot! keep working!”
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it was far past midnight, and it was already one thing that izuku couldn't sleep, but on an empty stomach? it made it far much worse. he tried everything in the book from counting sheep to counting his breaths, but nothing could beat his racing mind and the sound of his stomach growling.
izuku didn't want to disturb anyone, but would it really hurt if he just tip-toed to the common room? he sighed as he ran his hand through his curly green hair, quietly making his way to the kitchen to not wake anyone.
but as he walked through the common room, a taller figure appeared in front of him.
“GAH!” he yelped, hastily smacking a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud he'd screamed. “shoto!” he half-whispered. “what are you doing?!”
todoroki stood still, his expression unwavering. “i couldn't sleep.” his direction turned towards the kitchen. “i wanted to get a snack, but i think someone is in there.” he said.
that's odd. it was almost one in the morning, and the only people that izuku thought could be awake fell asleep ages ago. he asked todoroki who it was but he only shrugged, showing he only heard the person but never checked who it was.
he never thought he'd be met with the sight of bakugou resting his chin on y/n's shoulder as she made them snacks.
“at 12:47 in the morning? that's way past bakugou's bedtime…” todoroki muttered under his breath.
bakugou's tone was softer, softer than anyone had ever heard besides y/n herself. “you better not burn it.” he huffed.
y/n giggled, slightly turning her head to face his side profile. “i'm not going to burn our snacks,” she assured. “i'm an expert.”
“expert my ass.”
“hey!”
izuku and todoroki looked like a deer in headlights looking at the scene before them. they wanted to walk away, believe them, they really did. but the sight of bakugou being so domestic was such a rare and amusing sight to see.
“do we… leave?” izuku suggested.
“i don't know…” todoroki answered. “this is really weird.”
bakugou’s head shot up from her shoulder and turned to look at the two voices faster than the speed of light. his ruby eyes were narrowed as he glared them down as his lips curled. “the hell are you guys doing?”
izuku's hands flapped around in a panic. “w-we were just about to leave! i swear-”
“you're very affectionate, bakugou” todoroki said, as blunt as ever.
“shut up!” he yelled, his face turning as a red as a tomato and his hair puffed up. y/n giggled once again at the dramatic scene that laid in front of her. “do you guys want snacks too?” she offered.
“why are you giving our food to extras?” “suki!”
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brutal wasn't even the word to describe today's training session. everyone was curled up on the ground, hands over their stomach as it even hurt to breathe. the sounds that filled the room were heavy breathing and complaints. and y/n— was nowhere to be found.
mina, jirou, and ochaco all wandered the hallways, a worried look etched on their face as they searched for their friend. “i'm really worried about her y'know.” mina was the first one to break the silence.
both girls nodded in agreement.
“so am i,” ochaco said. “she just disappeared right after training ended.”
the trio kept wandering the halls, looking in every corner and every turn where y/n could be hiding.
suddenly, through the glass window, they see their little y/c haired friend sitting on the bench, with her fingers intertwined on her lap and her head hung low.
“there she is!” jirou yelled, quickly running to the nearest door to go outside and get y/n while the other two girls trailed closely behind her.
but something made them stop dead in their tracks. the closer they got to the window, the more they were able to see someone elses silhouette sat next to her.
“is that bakugou?”
bakugou's arm was wrapped securely around y/n's shoulders, intently listening to her rambling about whatever she needed to get off her chest.
“i did really bad today.” she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness and frustration.
“and that’s okay.” bakugou comforted her. “one bad doesn't mean you suck. everyone has bad days.” he reassured her, rubbing light circles on her shoulders.
y/n shrugged, playing and picking at her fingers as they rested on her lap. “i just think i’m weak, y’know?” she mumbled once again.
“you're not- hey. look at me.” bakugou squished her cheeks and turned her head to face his. “stop. you think i'd be talking to you like this if you're so weak? hm?”
“no?” she muffled due to how much bakugou was squishing her face.
“exactly. you're strong, so stop putting yourself down because of one off day and keep training.”
“you're hurting my cheeks.”
bakugou let go of her face, lightly patting her cheeks as an apology. “my point is, one bad day doesn't mean you're weak. think about every other time you've kicked ass.”
y/n laughed softly, her face changing from what looked like a kicked puppy to her usual grin. “thank you suki.” she said.
“this is the cutest thing I've ever seen.” mina whispered while clenching her shirt where her heart is tightly.
“who knew the pomeranian could be such a romantic?” jirou teased as ochaco and mina giggled along side of her.
bakugou lightly ruffled the top of y/n's hair, lightly blushing from the way she looked at him with such a lovestruck glance. “you're strong. don't start with that ‘i'm weak’ shit cause i won't hear it.”
“you're so sweet when you want to be.”
“now you're pushing it.”
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“why are you only nice to me?” the question caught katsuki off guard.
the couple had been in y/n's dorm room simply sitting in silence, with their legs entangled together and the light noise of the TV playing in the background.
he turned his head slightly to face her, their eyes meeting instantly as she was already looking at him so softly. “why wouldn't i be?” katsuki questioned as his fingers lightly played with her hair.
y/n shrugged, not having a response to his question. it just seemed out-of-character for him. he was the type of person to not let anyone change him, good or bad.
but the crude boy would come to be a puddle of sap when it came to her. even if it wasn't obvious verbally, the ways his eyes softened when they laid upon her was enough said.
“i asked you a question first.” she retorted.
katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze turning from her to the ceiling as his heart rate sped up a bit. “you're just.. different.”
y/n's eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk stitched itself onto her face. she scooted closer to katsuki's side, leaning her head on his bicep as she stared lovingly at his side profile. “i'm.. different? there's more to that, isn't there?”
“of course there is. you just don't get to know that stuff right now.”
y/n knew that katsuki wasn't one to talk about his feelings. she wasn't looking to change that. but the simple thought of him just looking at her differently from the rest, like shes the only person in every room, made her heart flutter.
“don't think i'm getting soft though.” katsuki grumbled, an arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.
“you're just… the only exception.”
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©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2024 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other
TAGLIST: @kaerotica @sweetlike-sugarplum @misfortvne @iridescencefae @awesomesauce-oo @kalulakunundrum
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kaisentine · 1 day ago
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݁ ִ  ۫ ⸺ ❝ 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ᐟ ❞
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⌗ ⸺ ❝ 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 . . ! ❞ the one thing you dread the most is your friends overanalyzing and hyping you up all because of a simple interaction with your crush—so annoying! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, & oliver aiku general cw. just idiots in love, reader is so deep into denial it’s infuriating, highschool au, shidou, fem reader . . . ( MY BAD ) sticky-note i think i just yapped my brains out with this one ( what’s new! ). bomb idea, explosive writing! NAWT PROOFREAD
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sticky note. BAEE 😁 thought of this cuz i was also doing snapstreaks
𐔌 . 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 is apparently so into you because . . . ❝ he snaps you in the morning ! ❞
your friend seems way more excited than you are. it’s way too early for her to already be geeked out at you opening kaiser’s snap for streaks. “i don’t get it,” you say as you open the image—he’s still at home even though most students are already in their respective classes, it’s the side of his face and really nothing special ( if you didn’t like him ). “he’s the epitome of ‘i don’t snap til i’m done with training.” she explains further yet you still don’t understand why she’s pointing it out. “does that quote even exist?” you ask, she’s off with your phone to observe the very thought out ( not really ) photo and shoves your phone into your face with her manicured finger pointing something out. “never mind that! look!” she has effectively made your brain’s circuit cut short because you don’t understand. you grab her wrist to control the distance so you can actually see. why is she pointing at his hair? “what am i looking at?” you voice your exact thoughts. “not tryna be mean to your crush or whatever, but it’s clear he has bed head!” she exclaims, attempting to remove your hand from her wrist, “there’s a reason he only snaps after training . . .” she ends in a murmur. “ha-ha, very funny. i still don’t get it.” you fake laugh at her sly comment and finally surrender her arm—letting it drop. “he hates people seeing him in the morning because of that,” she contemplates saying what she is just about to say—when has she ever done that? “maybe he wants to be the first man you see in the morning, that’s why!” she giggles, and your jaw drops; that is the biggest stretch she has ever came up with! “are you a lunatic?!? the last thing i’d want to do is show him me in the morning . . . he probably hates me!” this reaction of yours wasn’t what you friend wanted to get out from you. she was expecting to see a gleam of hope in your eyes but instead she’s met with a gloss of panic.
actually, your friend was spot on—he snaps you in the morning because he wants to be the first man you see in the morning. the strategy isn’t as effective as he would like it to be because despite the fact he has a pretty reasonable schedule like how he sleeps 7 hours every night, he only knocks out at about 2 am. he’s probably more effective at being late for school if anything. however, he’d rather you see him as at least one of the first males you see at such an ungodly time with ungodly bed head than you seeing him rush into the classroom because he’s late for the first time you glance at his ( glorious ) face that day. the man also decides he’s way too good for the stupidly cute filters you can find on the app so those are out of question—random wall photos are too. gets ness to hype him up and then chastises him if you don’t even look his way.
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sticky note. i feel like this is a stupid reason but it’s such a funny concept
𐔌 . 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄 is apparently so interested in you because . . . ❝ he ate a fry . ❞
your friend is dead serious but you’re just looking at her like ‘oh you actually serious?’. “sorry, what?” you bring your ear closer to her mouth in hopes you probably just misheard what she said. “he. ate. a. fry.” she repeats—nope she is definitely not joking with you. “i don’t see how sae eating a fry relates to him liking me,” you start deadpanning at her attempt at convincing you itoshi sae likes you—she sucks at this! she cocks a brow and gives you a dirty look, “i have a theory you might not actually like him . . . God that man hates fries.” she shudders at the thought. “they were the fries you brought!” she adds on, quickly regaining her composure from pure terror. “okay . . . yeah but it was one singular—not plural—fry, are you okay?” yes, you have a point, it was one fry, and now you’re concerned for you friend. she raises her hands up in surrender while sighing like she was just defeated—have you finally tamed the hostile creature? nope. there’s a sudden stupid smirk on her face that looks straight-up devious, “and plural—not singular—reasons why he is sooo interested!” she elongates and dramatizes the ‘so’, and you mentally slap yourself to make up for the stupidness you can feel radiating off her words. “i can never win with you, can i?” you ask but the answer is already clear—you cannot.
yup, sae hates fries, dearly—that isn’t some kind of secret because he is pretty open about it. once even telling you friend to . . . “fuck off,” when she thought it was a good idea to offer him the stick of pure deliciousness ( hence why she gets shivers thinking about it ). he doesn’t care about a lot of things like how he doesn’t bother himself with keeping most things private or public because he simply just does not give a flying shit. neither does he really care if he makes his feelings clear or not—mixed signals king! sure, he likes you but that doesn’t stop him from being nonchalant. the only time he’ll make openings are in soccer and anything other than that—he just lets it happen. that means if he is given a chance to ‘make a move’ and it’s served on a silver platter without him needing to excerpt any more effort? he’ll take it. if he isn’t, he waits for the next time. but that man doesn’t know anything about feelings so he thinks eating something you brought is making a move.
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sticky note. this man is a FREAK but he’s a simple guy promise
𐔌 . 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈 is apparently so downbad for you because . . . ❝ he said ‘if i was a velociraptor, i’d eat y/n first’ ? ! ❞
your friend reads off her phone and accidentally pushes her desk towards your chair. “HUH?” you’re just as surprised as your friend is—shidou ryusei actually said that? “you have to look at this,” she states and smacks you in the face with her phone ( deja vu WHO ), it’s the school’s blog and the post is exactly what she just said. “that’s just . . . i mean—what?” you find it quite hard to comprehend what you were reading because what do you mean the weird guy you like posted that? “is that edited?” you ask for confirmation—you literally can’t believe it. she clicks the profile and it is him, you feel your face flush when you’re bombarded with images of him. “i get it! i get it!” you bark and swat her hand away, “whydoievenlikehim—“ you mutter before covering your eyes like you just saw something so distasteful. “girl, i don’t know . . . but he totally likes you,” she shrieks, turning off her phone so such madness is no longer seen. you aren’t entirely buying it, “i doubt it, if i was some kind of carnivorous animal, i wouldn’t eat the guy i like—at all!” you say with a frown on your face. she looks at you, looking even more horrified at what you just said to her. “his thinking process is probably out the window, y’know? he probably just means he wants you to be with him forever!” “in his stomach? no thanks.”
what makes you think shidou ryusei is okay in the head in the slightest? if he likes someone—he makes it so obvious! he doesn’t second guess his words, much less his online posts so as soon aas he was done typing out the words, he clicked post almost immediately. doesn’t regret it one bit. his eyes land anywhere but sae? that is truly a feat . . .
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sticky note. does this even happen. also nagi really likes sleeping
𐔌 . 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 is apparently so desperate for you because . . . ❝ he sleeps on your shoulder . ❞
your friend is referring to the multiple times your crush has decided to accidentally fall asleep on your shoulder. “so . . .” you urge her to elaborate her point further than she already has. “and he only does it when he’s next to you,” she discerned, whipping out photo evidence in the form of a printed piece of paper. it’s really nothing too special—just the two of you sitting next to each other on the waiting lounge’s couch, waiting for your guys’ turn for the school’s mandatory medical check-up. he looks quite comfortable, arms crossed and manspreading ( 😭 ) but his head is rested on your shoulder—sleeping. “. . .why’d you print it,” you gasp at such an absurd action to prove a point and you quickly rip the paper out of her hands, “you’re insufferable.” you shake your head in disappointment. “a girl gotta do what she gotta do, y’know! how much more obvious does he need to be???” ugh, she’s being so dramatic—he’s just sleeping on your shoulder. “he probably realized i . . .didn’t mind so he doesn’t care,” you reject the idea. “you might be the insufferable one—why do you think he keeps doing it?” she says and you so want to side eye her but you aren’t going to turn sideways to do that because that is mad embarrassing. “i don’t know! he’s just some sleepy guy like,” you give her a pout before continuing, “. . .and people said that they feel sleepy around me.” you admit. “nah, they’re just saying you’re boring!” she giggles—did you not put that together? you playfully push her shoulder in annoyance. “but i’ll give you the answer—he wants to close to you, or in other words; he likes you!”
nagi is the type of lazy where he thinks it’s too much of a hassle to confess first but thinks making physical advancements don’t count. he can easily sleep anywhere, honestly. he likes his sleep but he loves good sleep and you just feel like a good person to sleep on so he decides to try it—and he’s right. he did do it accidentally the first time, it was on his mind but he really didn’t mean to! sleep just drenched his eyes and he was out cold—on your shoulder. there, he decides he likes you more than just a comfy pillow to doze off on.
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sticky note. i feel like reader is very justified LMFAO. yk i have a friend who has more than a mu or a situationship but aren’t dating and she said he longest more than friends but not not dating was like 4 years
𐔌 . 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 aiku is apparently so smitten for you because . . . ❝ girl, he confessed . . . ❞
your friend resists the overwhelming urge to bitch-slap you because you long-pressed your dms with him. the message wasn’t some kind of special confession just a simple ‘hey i know we just started talking but i think i’m inlove with you’ God reading that made you cringe. “yeah nope, not buying it.” you know he probably knows you saw it because of that stupid green dot on your profile but his message is still left on delivered. “why not?” she asks, “he knows you’ve read it, why edge him?” she pulls out her phone from her bag and faces her back towards you. “what are you doing . . ?” you’re honestly scared what she’s planning because even though you could also just stand up and look over her shoulder—she’d run out of the classroom and disappear. “texting someone,” she says while she’s rapidly typing out something, her shoulders shaking. “i don’t like the sound of that,” you refer to the hidden underlining of her tone, “you’re scaring me—ugh—whatever. i just started texting him, he barely knows me, he’s probably had 4 girlfriends in the span of 5 months—what makes me any different?” like—not trying to degrade yourself but you’re worried that he’s just going to play you too. “if he does, i’ll break his heart!” she says in resolve, doing the cliche moment of lifting up a fist and you giggle at her. there’s a quick buzz from your phone and it’s from the girl in-front of you, “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow, clicking the notification pop-up. “just read it,” okay . . . if she insists. dot. dot. dot. there’s invisible crickets going off in your head. “is this from sendou?” “uh-huh.”
unbeknownst to you, your friend was actually texting her situationship ( of like 8 months LMFAO )—sendou shuto to ask him about oliver’s confession since they’re friends and all. ‘aiku n y/n? oh yeah he’s totally smitten man, i ain’t never seen aiku talk about a girl like he does w her’ is the message she forwarded to you that let the crickets rip! no but seriously, he normally has cycles like when he’s with one girl but then breaks up with her because he got eyes for another but now he promises that he only wants you!
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bonus on why reo likes you because i might not be writing as much as i did this week because of school :p
mikage reo ⸺ ❝ he bought your entire christmas wishlist . . . ❞
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spideyjimin · 22 hours ago
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Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk
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⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 
—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 
—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 
— rating: 18+ 
—  words: 10,073
—  warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity
—  author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️
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Chapter IV: standing next to you
SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next
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Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.
Today is a special day.
It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.
The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.
Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.
Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.
His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.
As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.   
The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.
When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.
His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.
Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?
“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”
Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.
“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.
That’s weird.
However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.
“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.
“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.
The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.
The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.
“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.
The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.
“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.
“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.
You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.
“Could be better,” he coldly says.
The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.
“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.
 “This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”    
You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.
“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”
You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.
While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.
“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.
Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.
But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.
 “Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”
“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.
You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.
You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.
“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”
You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.
“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.
“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”
“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.
“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.  
“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”
“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”
You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.
“Fine,” his voice softens.
The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.  
Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.
This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.
On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.    
“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.
You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.
Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship. 
This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.
With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.  
The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.
Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.
The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.
“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.
It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.
 “Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.
You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.
“Just relax,” she tells you.
Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.
The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.
For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.
Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.
Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.
The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.
The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.
Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.
The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.
“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.
This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.
“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”  
Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.
Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.
But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.
The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.
After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.
The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.
“You’re okay?” you ask.
His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.
You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.
“It is,” you offer him a little smile.
Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.
“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”
This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.
Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.  
Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.
His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.
Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.  
His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.
“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”
Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.
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Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.
You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.
On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.
Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.
“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”
Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.
“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.
“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”  
The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.
After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.
An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.
You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.
“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”
The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.
Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.
“Thanks,” you say as you step out.  
“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.
For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.
“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”
The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”
Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.
“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”
The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.
“Please follow me,” he repeats.
Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.
Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.   
“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.
The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.
“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”
His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.
“Are you sure?”
His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.
The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.
Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.
For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.
With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.  
“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.
Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.
Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.
“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.
This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.
“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.
“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.   
“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.
As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.
In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.
“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”
“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”
Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.
“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”
You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.
“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.
Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”
At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.
Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.
A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.    
On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.
Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.
“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”
As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.
“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.
Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.
“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.
“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.
“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”
“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.
You need to mentally prepare yourself for what��s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.
“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.
“Okay,” you reply.
For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.
“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.
Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.
“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”
He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”
You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.
“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”
Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.
His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.
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After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.
Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.
It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.
Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.
“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.
The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.
“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.
Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.
Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.
Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.
“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.
“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”
This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.
“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”
“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.
By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.
“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”
This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.
“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.
“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”
 “So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.
“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.   
Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?
His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire.  The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.
You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“It’s okay,” you say.
In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart.  It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.  
“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”
Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.
His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.   
“I’m so scared.”
“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”
You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.
“You can do this,” he encourages you. “You’re so fucking strong.”
The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.   
“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.
Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.
“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.
“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”
“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”
“But I don’t,” you start crying.
Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.
Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.
After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.
“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.
His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.
“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.
Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.
“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”
His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.
“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”
His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.
“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”
You nod with tears still running down your face.
“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”
You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.
Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.
Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.
“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.
“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.  
Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.  
“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.
He tilts his head, slightly confused.
“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”
Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.
His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.
“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.
Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.
“You’re so majestic,” you admit.
“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”
This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing. 
“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.
“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”
Is this man going to make you blush all night long?
“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.  
Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.
The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.
As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.
Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.
Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.  
As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.
Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.
You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.
When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.
Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.
Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”
You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.
This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.
“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.
The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.
For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.
“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.
The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.
“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”
You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.
“What do I need to do?” you ask.
“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”
Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.
You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.
For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.
“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.
The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.
“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”
For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.    
When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.
At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.
Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.
After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.
Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.
Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.
“Shit,” you mumble.
Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.
“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.
To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.
Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…
Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.
Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you. 
Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.
Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.
“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.
“Very,” you answer.
The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.
“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are.   And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.
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prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 days ago
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guilty as sin?
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summary: eddie and y/n watch a special movie and get up to things.
word count: 3.9k
warnings/notes: smut, watching p*rn, masturbation (m & f), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, squirting
a/n: this is a blurb that ties in with my gods & monsters series on ao3! as usual, reader is 18+! also this was supposed to include her touching herself a little longer than i originally planned, but this thing took on a life of its own as soon as i started writing it. i hope you enjoy!
————————————-
“are you excited for this, baby?”
y/n was sitting on her parents’ bed, waiting for eddie to get the movie ready. she had never seen it before—something called “porn.” she knew what that was, of course, but she had never seen it. she and eddie had been having sex for a month, and he had suggested it to her one night as they lay together. she was open to it, even if she was a little bit nervous about it. she watched as eddie tinkered with the vcr, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed as she swung them. 
“a little,” she answered, sitting back on her elbows. “is it going to work?”
“yeah, it should,” he said. “this tape sometimes likes to be eaten, which I find ironic, considering..”
she giggled, couldn't help it. “oh yeah? is there a lot of that in it?”
“a fair amount,” he said. “it has your favorite.”
“which one?” she asked. “I have a lot of favorites.”
“eating out after being creampied,” eddie said, hitting play. “i think it’s going to work, baby. let’s lie back and watch it.”
she lay back with him, falling into his arms. she snuggled against him, watching as the movie began with a disclaimer. she looked up at eddie, who was looking down at her with a grin. she leaned up and kissed him, and he returned the kiss feverishly. she whimpered against his lips, biting at his lower lip as he growled into the kiss. she chuckled and kissed him harder, her fingers tangling in the ends of his hair. he drew back after a moment, his grin widening as he stroked her cheek.
“save it,” he said. “i want to see how you act when we start the movie.”
“is it gonna start yet?” she asked. “I didn’t think these kinds of movies had this many credits.”
“yeah, it’s about to start now,” eddie said. “see?”
she started watching the movie, snuggled up against eddie. the movie started off like any normal movie would. a woman answered the door in lingerie, greeting the repairman as he ogled her. y/n rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it, but kept watching. the woman led the man in to where the hot water tank was, showing him the problem and leaving him to fix it. as he was doing so, the woman went into her bedroom, laid back on the bed, and started touching herself as she moaned loudly and in exaggeration. y/n wasn’t fazed yet, but kept watching. eddie was looking at her for a reaction, and she smiled at him as she kissed him again.
“what do you think so far?” he asked.
“i think this is really weird so far,” she said. “people enjoy this?”
he chuckled. “yeah, but it gets better. you should keep watching.”
she did, watching as the man came to find the woman. the woman was still touching herself and moaning, and the man found her and dropped his toolbox. y/n giggled and kept watching, the man walking into the room and watching the woman on the bed. the woman opened her legs wider for invitation and the camera did a close up of her pussy. y/n looked away then, blushing and shy. eddie chuckled, kissing her hair and drawing her tighter against him. she kept watching; it was like a trainwreck she couldn’t look away from. 
“it’s about to get good, baby,” eddie said, squeezing her tighter. “just watch.”
“I hope so,” she said. “i'm bored so far.”
he laughed, shaking his head. “you really don’t have much patience, do you?”
“hmm, no,” she said. “is the good stuff about to happen?”
“yep,” he said. “watch.”
she kept watching, and eddie had been right. soon the man was eating her out, messily and noisily over the music. y/n watched, fascinated, as he worked, her eyes big and her mouth hanging open. eddie saw her awestruck expression and laughed, kissing her deeply as she pressed her body against his. she tangled her fingers in his hair, lifting one of her legs over his hip and grinding against him slightly. eddie moaned low in his throat, his hand coming down to squeeze her ass. she whined, pushing herself against him more urgently before he drew back to look down at her. 
“fuck,” he said. “already getting desperate, huh?”
“just because it’s you,” she said. “i’m always desperate for you.”
“so i see,” he teased, poking her nose. “i think it’s adorable.”
“let’s keep watching,” she said. “i wanna see what happens next.”
the man kept eating the woman out, y/n watching as eddie kissed her neck. she giggled, still watching the movie as eddie’s hand came up her shirt. she swatted it at away and he did it again, squeezing her breast and playfully biting at her neck. she let him that time, knowing that it was a losing battle, anyway. she turned to kiss him as the woman’s moans grew louder, and he tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. she gasped, pulling at his hair before she allowed him to take her shirt off. he kissed her breasts over her bra, exploring with his mouth and hands. she mewled, pressing her body against his and tugging at his hair as he, too, moaned. 
“you’re the eager one now,” she said, giggling. “you’re all eager for me.”
“I always am,” he said, smirking. “just like you are for me.”
“I can’t help it with you,” she said. “you’re just so hot.”
“you’re the hottest woman in the world, baby,” he said, tracing her nipple through the fabric of her bra. “can i take your clothes off? i have an idea.”
“what’s your idea?” she asked.
“i want you to touch yourself for me,” he said. “while you watch the movie.”
she blushed. “oh…”
“do you want to?” he asked.
“mmm hmm,” she said. “even though i’m a little nervous.”
“it’s okay,” he said. “i can talk you through it, if you want me to.”
“okay,” she said, standing up to take her clothes off. she laid next to him fully naked, her cheeks hot. “i’m here now.” 
“good girl,” eddie said, smirking as he studied her nude body. “you’re so beautiful.”
her cheeks heated more, and a giggle passed her lips. “you think so?”
“I know so,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between her legs. “be a good girl for me now.”
she started slowly running her fingers through her folds, a whine passing her lips. she watched the movie for a moment, but it wasn’t doing much for her anymore. the man went from eating her out to fucking her, but it seemed so fake that it was almost laughable. she turned her attention from the movie back to eddie, who was watching her with hungry eyes. she giggled and kept going, her fingers massaging as eddie licked his lips. 
“I wish you would touch me, too,” she said.
“I will later,” he said. “for now, I just wanna watch you do it. rub your clit for me.”
she kept going, swirling her fingers through her folds as she felt herself getting more wet. she moaned as she rubbed her clit, looking over at eddie to see what he was doing. he had pulled his cock out and was jerking himself off, his mouth slack as his fist moved slowly over his erection. she looked back at the movie and saw the man still fucking the woman, absolutely drilling her as she moaned exaggeratedly. y/n had to suppress an eye roll; it was so over the top that it was almost laughable. she didn’t want to hurt eddie’s feelings, though, so she kept herself under control. 
“just like that,” he said, groaning as he kept going. “that’s my good fucking girl.”
“it feels so good,” she gasped. “but I want you to touch me now.”
“not yet,” he said. “soon, though, I promise. finger yourself for me.”
she did so, inserting two fingers inside of herself as she moaned. her back arched and she pushed them deeper, down to the last knuckle. eddie watched her, the movie forgotten by both of them as they watched each other work. she moaned as she fucked herself, her fingers working quickly as her thumb swiped at her clit. eddie kept watching her, his gaze never wavering as he stroked his cock. he didn’t speed up, but instead kept a steady pace that was more in tune with her own movements. 
“please,” she begged. “I want you to touch me.”
“oh yeah?” he asked, smirking. “you can’t stand it any longer, can you?”
“no,” she said. “please..”
he took her hand and guided it, pushing her fingers in and out of her pussy as he rubbed her clit. she whined, allowing him to do it as he leaned down to suck on one of her nipples. she moaned, fingering herself deeper as her stomach began to tighten. she grabbed his hair and pulled, arching her back as he moaned against her skin. his free hand kept stroking his cock, his movements getting faster as her orgasm approached. 
“i’m getting so close,” she warned, bucking her hips to meet her own touch. “i want to cum on your tongue.”
“oh?” he asked, smirking. “that’s what you want, huh?”
“yes it is,” she said. “please.”
“well…since you asked so nicely…” he said, withdrawing his hand from her and from himself and kneeling in front of her. “i guess we’ll have to do it then, won’t we?”
“please yes,” she begged. “please, i don’t like begging so much.”
“poor thing,” eddie said, kissing her inner thighs. “you poor thing.”
“don’t tease me,” she said. “you’ve done enough of that already.”
“why not?” he asked, smirking at her. “i think it’s fun to watch you squirm.”
“because i just want you to do it already!” she said with a roll of her eyes. “it’s been too long!”
“okay, okay,” he said, licking a stripe up her pussy and moaning. “fuck, you taste so good. so sweet.”
she mewled, and eddie dove in. he ate her out feverishly, as if he were a man starving. she grabbed hold of his hair, her thighs already quivering as he worked on her. he looked up at her over her mound, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he pushed his tongue inside of her. she moaned, bucking her hips slightly as he smirked against her. she wanted to slap his head for that, but she was too engrossed in what he was doing to give it much more thought. he gripped her thighs tightly, as if he were a man drowning and was clinging to his only salvation, and she welcomed the thought of the bruises it might leave behind. she did love being marked up by him, after all, and he was doing a good job of that tonight.
“your parents would be so pissed if they could see us right now,” eddie said. “especially your dad.”
“fuck him,” she said. “i don’t care what he thinks about us.”
“neither do i,” he said, sucking on her clit for a moment as she gasped. “was that good?”
“mmm hmm,” she hummed, tugging at his hair as he pushed two fingers inside of her. “please keep going.”
“i really need to fuck you soon,” he said, chuckling against her as he sucked on her clit again. “i’m about to burst.”
“come here, then,” she said. “fuck me.”
“yeah?” he asked, smiling at her. his face glistened with her juices, and he didn’t make any effort to wipe it away. “you don’t wanna cum on my tongue first?”
“hmm, okay,” she said. “i am pretty close.”
“okay, baby,” he said, diving back in. “i’ll give you what you want.”
it didn’t take much longer. a few more sucks of her clit and fucking her on his fingers and she was letting go, crying out his name and cumming all over his face. he smiled, sitting back and watching as she experienced her high. when she came down from it, he kissed his way up her body and sucked on each breast before smashing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. she whined, kissing him back and tasting herself on his lips & tongue. he kissed her deeply, lining himself up with her pussy and slapping his dick against it. she giggled, pushing her hips forward in invitation. he sought her consent with a look and she nodded, giving him permission. he slid inside of her with ease and she moaned, clinging to his back as he moaned low in her ear.
“christ, you feel so fucking good,” he breathed. “you’re so goddamn wet.”
“all for you,” she said. “just for you.”
“yeah?” he asked. “just for me, huh? no one else?”
“nope, no one else,” she said. “please fuck me now.”
“how do you want it?” he asked, giving one shallow, slow thrust as he looked down at her. “fast and hard or slow and soft?”
“fast and hard, please,” she said, clinging to his back and looking into his eyes. “i want you to be rough like they’re being in the movie.”
indeed they were. in the movie, the man had taken to fucking the woman from behind as hard and as fast as was humanly possible. y/n didn’t think it WAS possible; he was going almost like a jackhammer. she wondered if they used special effects even in those kind of movies, and found that she didn’t much care one way or another. she was focused on her own pleasure right now, not some imaginary, fake pleasure in the movie. the woman was moaning and yelling on the tv and y/n had to suppress another eye roll at how fake it all sounded. surely she didn’t sound like that, did she?
“eddie,” she said, moaning as he pushed himself even deeper inside of her. “do i sound like that woman?”
“hm?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the tv before shaking his head. “no, baby, you don’t. your moans are so much hotter because yours are actually real.”
“really?” she asked, hooking her legs around his waist and pulling him in as deeply as he could go. “maybe you should start fucking me then so you can hear them.”
“wow,” he said, starting to thrust as he smirked down at her. “i’m impressed, y/n. you went from this good catholic girl to my own personal porn star. when the hell did that happen?”
she giggled, digging her heels into his ass. “it happened as soon as you started fucking me. i was really missing out, but i honestly never wanted to do it with anyone until you came along. the thought of it kinda grossed me out before.”
“oh yeah?” eddie asked, groaning as he began to pick up the pace a little. “all those good catholic boys and steve turned your stomach, huh?”
“well, steve was okay, i guess,” she said. “but the other ones were all gross and i think they were secretly doing it behind their parents’ backs.”
“just like you’re doing now, huh?” he teased, leaning down to kiss her neck. “you’re so funny sometimes.”
“i’m gonna get really funny if you don’t shut up and fuck me,” she said.
“so bossy,” he said, leaving a mark on her neck and laughing. “oops, you might have to wear a scarf for a little bit.”
“i don’t care,” she said. “please.”
“alright,” he said, looking down at her again as he began to move faster.
she gasped as he began to ram directly against her sweet spot, her eyes rolling back for a moment as she clung to him tightly. he moaned in her ear as he thrust deeply, making sure to rail her with every thrust inward. he kissed her sloppily, their tongues meeting before their lips, their moans lost in each other’s mouths as she dug her nails slightly into his back. he groaned at the contact, drawing back to look down at her as his movements increased. she could feel her stomach tightening already, and she opened her mouth to tell him she was close. before she could tell him, though, she was cumming hard, her nails scratching hard down his back as he moaned deep in his throat. she soaked the bed below them, her mouth agape as her head was thrown back. eddie was kissing her neck again, dipping low to get what he could reach of her chest, smiling against her skin as he did so.
“that’s my good girl,” he said. “there she is.”
“don’t stop,” she begged. “please don’t stop.”
“i wasn’t planning on it anytime soon, baby,” he said, kissing her gently on the lips. “i’m gonna make you cum again.”
“are you?” she asked.
“yes i am,” he said. “i’m going to make you scream this time. louder than that woman on tv.”
she had largely forgotten the movie until then, and she looked over his shoulder to see what was happening. it seemed as if it were pretty much over; the man was slowing down and the woman had quieted some. she focused her attention back to eddie, smiling up at him as she pulled him down for another kiss. he kept going, and she whined as he pushed against her sensitive sweet spot, but it still felt so good. she felt dizzy, exhilarated, and as if she were on top of the world. she clenched around him once, twice, and felt him twitch inside of her. that was a bad idea, then; she didn’t want him cumming too soon, after all. she ran her hands down his back to soothe the scratches she left, and was surprised to see that his back was sticky. she drew her hands back and saw a little blood on them, and she looked up at him in alarm. he chuckled, shaking his head as he kissed over her face.
“nah, it’s okay,” he said. “i like it.”
“but doesn’t it hurt?” she asked. “i would think that it would hurt.”
“not really,” he said. “i think it feels good.”
“oh,” she said, her own skin slick with sweat as his, too, became wet. “are you getting close?”
“yep, i’m getting there,” he said, rubbing her clit in fast, hard circles. “how about you?”
“i think so,” she said. “i want you to cum inside of me.”
“you do?” he asked. “usually you don’t want that.”
“i do now,” she said. “please, i don’t care. it’ll be fine.”
“are you sure?” he asked, his hair hanging down as he gazed at her. “i don’t want you to get pregnant.”
“i’m fine right now,” she said. “i promise. i’d tell you to use a condom if i wasn’t.”
“are you going to go get on birth control like you said?” he asked.
“yep,” she said. “i made the appointment for next week.”
“good girl,” he said, moaning as he kept going. “fuck, i don’t know how much longer i can hold off.” 
“me either,” she said, gasping loudly as he rubbed her clit again. “fuck, this feels so good!”
“yeah?” he asked, smirking. “i’m glad you think so, baby.”
“i really do!” she said, clenching around him again. “you’re so big.”
“and you’re so fucking wet,” he said. “the wettest pussy in the whole world and it’s all mine.”
“all yours,” she echoed, her mouth agape as he started absolutely pounding her. “eddie!”
“let go,” he said, rubbing her clit harder and faster. “go on, baby.”
she didn’t need to be told twice. a few minutes later she came hard again, squirting all over eddie and the bed, her eyes rolled back as she screamed his name. she scratched him hard again, more blood being drawn as he growled in her ear. her own orgasm was followed by his own not even a minute later, and he came deep inside of her with a moan of her name. he rocked his hips to a stop, pulling out of her and collapsing next to her on the bed. he reached for his cigarettes, lighting one and offering her a drag. she took it, giggling at the thought of her parents smelling cigarette smoke in their bedroom. she would air it out as best as she could before they got back, but it was still hilarious to her that her dad might blow his top over it. normally that would have bothered her, but not now. the movie had ended, she and eddie were content, and that’s all that mattered to her.
“i love you,” he said, holding her with one arm as he used the other to smoke. “i love you so much.”
“i love you, too,” she said, snuggling up to him and kissing over his tattoos on his chest. “i really love you so much.”
“i’m so glad that you do,” he said, taking a long drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaling the smoke. “you’re everything to me, y/n. everything and so much more.”
“i think you’re the best,” she said. “i couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.”
“and i couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend,” he said, kissing her hair. “i truly mean that.”
she giggled, kissing his tattoos again as she looked up at him. “i kinda wish we could go again.”
he laughed as well, shaking his head as he kissed her sweetly. “give me about an hour and maybe we’ll talk. i could use a shower, though.”
“me too,” she said. “maybe we could take one after you smoke your cigarette.”
“yeah, we should,” he said, trailing his fingers down her back. “y/n?”
“yeah?”
“your dad is going to kill me for this.”
“i’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
“you don’t mind that i’m doing it?”
“no.”
“good.”
they lay in silence for a little bit, until eddie stamped out his cigarette and got up. he held his hand out for her and she took it, walking to her parents’ bathroom and starting the shower. before they stepped in, she was silent, looking down at the floor as eddie looked at her in concern. 
“what is it?” he asked. “are you okay?”
“yeah,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “i was just thinking.”
“uh oh, that’s dangerous,” he teased.
she rolled her eyes. “never mind.”
“no, tell me,” he said. “i’m sorry.”
“i was thinking about how i’d like to watch more movies like that,” she said. “i had fun tonight.”
“oh yeah?” eddie asked. “well, i’ve got more. maybe we can watch another one tomorrow.”
“i’d like that,” she said, pulling him toward the shower. “come on, let’s get in.” 
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brawberryz · 2 days ago
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the present does not exist, time is an illusion, buy gold!
Batfam × neglected Bill Cipher! Reader
《Platonic!》
Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error
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Imagine that you were neglected throughout your life, it was really something that you cared very little about
The people who knew you told you that you were a genius, that with your intelligence you could change the world, everyone noticed your talents except your family
While you believed you began to be interested in creatures that for some were not real or just myths, you faced many creatures that almost killed you, but no one noticed when you mysteriously disappeared to go to the Gotham forest to see those fantastic creatures
Over time you wrote a diary where you noted all the anomalies of Gotham, some more dangerous than others
Everything was going well until you discovered HIM, Bill Cipher the God of Chaos
You met him while visiting an abandoned library, I found that strange book where he recounted his powers, while you were reading you saw that on the last pages it was written in blood letters
"DO NOT SUMMON"
For many that would have been a great warning but for It was a sign for you, you started to get more interested in this guy called Bill
You started to investigate and look for something that would tell you more about this strange but interesting being
After months of research and failed invocations you were finally able to meet him as a person
"Well, well, well, uhh it's been a while since I was summoned"
Bill said without realizing that you were about to faint, it worked...IT WORKED!
After hard months you were able to summon him, it felt like you had won some important prize
"Ahem, uh...hello, Bill?"
You hesitated a little as you spoke, you read that this entity was very dangerous and could easily end entire universes if it so desired
"Oh, hello strange human! Then with whom do I have the honor?"
Bill said as he floated around you
"I'm (name)...(name) Wayne"
You couldn't believe it was really happening, those days without sleep and researching without stopping were worth it
You had so many questions to ask this Bill, it wasn't every day you could summon an all-powerful god
"Nice name, strange human"
Bill spoke with a mocking tone as he looked at you with his one eye, from the first time he saw you he knew you had something special, your intelligence was unmatched by anyone, you reminded him of Stanford, although he could say that you are much smarter than Stan
This was going to be fun, maybe you're the piece he was missing to be able to free his dimension again
And luckily for him, no one was going to stop it this time
From that moment on, your strange friendship with Bill began
You let him use your body and control you, in exchange he showed you the secrets of the universe and gave you information that no one had ever heard before
But not everything was perfect, every time Bill used your body he ended up doing stupid things, like jumping off the damn stairs and hitting a policeman
Among other crimes that for some strange reason no one in your family found out about
He also did other stupid things like getting a tattoo on your ribs that you will regret for the rest of your life
After a while your bond began to grow stronger, or so you thought
How stupid you were to trust someone like him
"We were supposed to be friends, you lied to me!"
Your soul floated around Bill, you thought that when Bill asked to borrow your body it was going to be like every time but this time he refused to change bodies
"Friends? I don't have friends, you were just one of my pawns for my plan, and now that I have everything right where I want it I don't need you anymore"
Bill said mocking how innocent and foolish you were to believe that they were friends, something that he was going to thank you for was having a good body, you had resistance and good mobility that was going to be very helpful
"Well I have to go, dinner is getting cold"
He said indifferently as he approached the door, before you could stop him or do anything the door slammed shut in front of your face
For the first time in your life you were afraid, afraid of what Bill could do now that his plan was almost complete, you felt like a fool for believing him
_
Bruce noticed how you were weirder than usual, since you entered the kitchen and you sat down you knew something was wrong and it wasn't good
"(Name)...is something wrong?"
Bruce said as he stopped eating and looked at his daughter seriously
"Of course I am dad! Why would something be wrong?"
The girl said as she tilted her head and gave him that strange smile, something was wrong...
(Name) would never answer like that or smile at him like that, her usual response would have been to shrug and continue eating but now there was something strange about her, as if she wasn't her
"Well... you look weirder than usual, I just want you to feel okay"
The other family members suddenly looked at you and Bruce, they looked at each other, it seemed that everyone agreed that you were acting weird
"Nothing's wrong with me, I'm just happy... very happy"
(Name) said before abruptly getting up from the table with her empty plate in hand
"Dinner was good, see you later family!"
The girl said as she walked out of the kitchen waving her hand happily
In the minds of everyone sitting at the table there was only one mutual thought
Something was very wrong with you, and whatever it was they were going to find out
No matter what it took
Poor idiots, if they knew that soon everything was considered important like their universe is about to disappear forever
Everything was happening the way Bill wanted, now no one was going to stop him because there was no Stanford or the Pines family to stop him again
It seems Bill Cipher got his way again
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I love writing about my hyperfixations and combining them and making a weird AU
I'll just leave this shit undone and go to sleep, byee
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witchywithwhiskey · 2 days ago
Note
Alright, Molly, let’s try this again ❤️
What if I say Lloyd Hansen and 1-800-Cupid? 😌 Does that strike your fancy?
be my cupid
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pairing: boyfriend!lloyd hansen x female reader
summary: when your boyfriend is away on a work trip for valentine's day, you have a plan to make it special. but then he surprises you with an even more exciting present that you weren't expecting.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, light bdsm, light dom/sub, sir kink, praise kink, finger sucking, aftercare, pet names, established relationship, some insecurity from reader and reassurance from lloyd
word count: 3.1k
a/n: i'm so happy you sent in the "1-800-Cupid" prompt!! i was hoping someone would because it seemed so fun. i really like the idea i came up with for this one—and i think it works perfectly with lloyd! thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡
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“Thank you for calling 1-800-Cupid,” you trilled into the phone, unable to bite back the smile that had spread across your face when you saw the name Lloyd Hansen appear on the screen. “I’m your personal cupid, here to connect you with your true love.”
“My ‘true love’?” The familiar voice on the other end of the line scoffed with an ungentlemanly snort. 
You could practically hear the whiskers of his mustache twitch as his mouth twisted into a playful sneer. Indignantly, you sat up in your bed. 
“Don’t you dare scoff at me, Lloyd Hansen,” you scolded, even going so far as to give your phone a little glare when you knew there was no way for the man on the other end to actually see your expression. After all, you were sitting in your bed, alone in your apartment, while he was half a world away on some business trip. 
“I’m sorry, cupcake, I’m sorry,” Lloyd said soothingly, managing to sound genuinely contrite and teasingly playful all at the same time. 
You rolled your eyes with affection—it was a feat only Lloyd could manage. But it did the trick and you settled back into the pillows on your bed, playing with the edge of your sweater while you huffed a sigh. 
It took you a moment to get back into character, glancing at the short script you’d prepared as part of the surprise you’d planned.
“Now, why are you calling today, sir?” you asked in your best professionally cheerful customer service voice.
“Well, I found a mysterious card in my jacket, with your number on it,” Lloyd said, mirth filling his tone even as he tried to play along. “You don’t think my girlfriend could’ve had something to do with it, do you? D’you think she’s trying to get rid of me?” 
It took all your effort to stifle a hopeless giggle. You could always count on Lloyd to make you laugh, even when you were sad about the fact that he wasn’t there with you.
It was your first Valentine’s Day together, but he’d had to go away on a work trip, and you’d come up with a little plan to make the holiday special when you weren’t able to be together. But he kept distracting you. 
You took a moment to collect yourself, Lloyd waiting patiently on the other end of the line, seemingly just happy to be on the phone with you, which made you all the more eager to get on with your plan. 
“I don’t know anything about that…” you said primly, trying to keep your mouth from curving into a smile and utterly failing. So you moved on, blurting out the next part of your script. “Would you like me to send a photo of the true love you’ve been matched with, sir?”
“You keep calling me sir, sunshine, and you’re going to be getting a photo of my hard dick,” Lloyd muttered, sounding like he was palming the bulge in his pants already. 
Your breath hitched in your throat, warmth cascading down through your body and settling heavily between your thighs, wetness beginning to gather in your panties. It was on the tip of your tongue to beg him to send the photo, so you’d have something to touch yourself to when he inevitably needed to go and attend to the work that had taken him out of the country.
But you shook yourself and persevered with your plan. “Lloyd,” you admonished, your voice a little breathy despite your best efforts. “Do you want the photo or not?” 
“Sure, princess, send me the photo,” he said. Affection was clear in his tone, which made you soften just a bit. 
Pulling the phone away from your ear, you tapped on the screen until you pulled up the photos you’d had taken in a boudoir photoshoot. They were Valentine’s Day themed, with your body swathed in red and white lingerie, surrounded by rose petals and soft silk sheets. In your hands, you held a pink, plastic bow and arrow, making you look like a particularly sexy cupid.
Biting back a grin and a sound of excitement, you sent your favorite of the photos to Lloyd, then quickly replaced your phone against your ear, holding your breath while you waited with eager anticipation for his reaction.
You were rewarded a few seconds later with a choked groan and a muttered curse from your boyfriend. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was in pain, but then his lust-soaked voice filled your ears.
“Fuck, angel, look at you,” he cooed down the line, sending little shivers of delight racing beneath your skin. “You look so fucking gorgeous—so perfect and pretty and…” He trailed off, his words dissolving into another restrained groan, like he was biting his hand to muffle the sound. “Is this all for me? Is this my Valentine’s Day present, sweets?” 
“Yeah,” you said softly, almost shyly, unable to wipe the grin off your face. The rest of your words left you in a rush of excitement. “Do you like it? I wanted to give you something you’d like even though you’re on your work trip.”
“I love it, buttercup,” Lloyd purred. 
His deep voice made you shiver with a desire that you knew was going to go unslaked until your boyfriend got home. No matter how much phone sex the two of you had, it was never quite as satisfying as having Lloyd with you in person, bending you over and taking you hard and deep…
Lloyd kept talking then, distracting you from your dirty thoughts with a surprise of his own.
“I got you something, too, pumpkin. Open your door.”
Excitement shot through your body and you bounced eagerly off your bed. You didn’t think much of his words, it wasn’t uncommon for Lloyd to send you little presents while he was on his work trips—coffee and pastries delivered to your door in the mornings to help you start your day, some jewelry or a book in the evenings because he was thinking of you. 
“Oohh, did you get me flowers, Lloyd Hansen?” you chattered happily, padding through your apartment to the front door. “Some chocolates? One of those giant stuffed teddy bears?” You paused, glancing around your cramped and cozy space, wondering where you would even put a giant teddy bear. 
Your boyfriend just chuckled softly on the other end of the line, not giving anything away. Your excitement to know what he’d gotten you rushed back in, and you turned to the door again, eager to see what he’d sent you.
Flinging open the front door of your apartment, you were stunned to find not flowers or chocolates or a teddy bear, but Lloyd Hansem himself. He wore a familiar smirk on his handsome face, his blue eyes glittering with mischief in the fluorescent lights of the hallway, his phone still held up to his ear. 
“LLOYD!” you screamed, your phone slipping from your fingers and tumbling loudly to the floor as you launched yourself at your boyfriend. “You’re here.” The words came out much softer as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar, spicy scent of his cologne. 
“Did you really think I’d let you spend our first Valentine’s Day alone?” he teased you playfully, one of his arms banding around your back while his other hand cupped the back of your head, holding you tightly against his chest. He walked you backward into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here with you, muffin.”
His words filled your heart with joy, and you wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders, clinging to his big, strong form while he slowly twirled the two of you around, like you were dancing to a silent slow song. You were so happy, it took you a moment for reality to crash back down around you. 
“But I wasn’t expecting you,” you whined into Lloyd’s neck, remembering that your face was entirely bare of makeup and you were wearing the same thing you’d had on all week—a pair of leggings and one of Lloyd’s shirts, even though his cologne had long since worn off. “I’m not pretty right now,” you mumbled, hiding your face against Lloyd’s throat.
Lloyd gently eased you away from his body, having to pry your clinging arms loose, so he could rake his eyes over your bare face. He smiled, his mustache twitching a little, and his blue eyes sparkled with nothing but genuine affection. 
“You’re gorgeous just like this, pretty girl,” he cooed, ducking forward and pressing a kiss to your lips. Then he brushed kisses to your cheeks and forehead, even dropping a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you giggle. “You make a very sexy cupid, but you’re always my gorgeous girl.”
“Thank you, Lloyd,” you said on a soft sigh of contentment, dragging him in for a proper kiss.
His mustache tickled your upper lip in the way that you’d grown to crave, and you moaned at the familiar, delicious taste of your boyfriend. Pulling him even closer with your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, you kissed him harder, pouring all the affection and happiness you felt about having him home into the way your mouth moved against his.
Kissing you back just as fervently, Lloyd walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall in your living room. He crowded in around you, pinning you to the wall with his big, hard body, his bulge jutting into your belly while he deepened the kiss, coaxing a burning inferno of need to life within you.
Before long, you were pushing impatiently at his jacket, wordlessly whining for him to take it off. Lloyd was only too happy to oblige, shedding the garment and tugging his shirt over his head, his mouth finding yours again for another hot, searing kiss.
His fingers hooked in the waistband of your leggings, shoving them down over your hips and thighs so you could kick them off. Then his hands came up to cup your face, cradling your head while he licked into your mouth, fucking you with his tongue until you were whimpering, desperately needing him to fill another of your holes. 
Quickly, Lloyd toed out of his shoes and stripped off his pants, leaving him in only a pair of boxer briefs, while you still wore a sweater and your panties. Glancing down at your shirt before he went back to kissing you, Lloyd’s hands pushed beneath your sweater, his fingers finding the soft flesh of your tits and kneading until you were breaking away to moan. 
“Is this my shirt?” Lloyd asked in a low, rumbling voice that was soaked with lust and a little hint of humor. He pressed hungry, nipping kisses along your jaw, pinching your nipples and making you squirm between his hard, unyielding body and the wall at your back. 
“Yeah,” you answered on a gasp. “I missed you,” you confessed, your hands curling around his bare shoulders, clinging to the muscles bunching beneath his warm skin while your head tipped back against the wall and you let out a low, keening whine. 
Lloyd made a gruff sound in the back of his throat, pulling away so he could look you in the eye. Your head was still tipped back, though, so he cupped your jaw in his hand and tilted it forward, his thumb running along your plump lower lip. 
You took the tip into your mouth and nipped playfully before sucking on Lloyd’s thumb, staring up at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes. You watched while his gaze darkened, his pupils blowing wide with a lustful hunger that made your body clench tight with anticipation. 
“I missed you too, baby cakes,” he rumbled, ducking his head to brush a kiss to the corner of your mouth. His mustache tickled and you giggled, turning your head and letting his thumb fall from your lips so you could kiss your boyfriend.
The kiss quickly turned heated again and it felt like both of you suddenly remembered how long it had been since you’d been joined together in the most primal way possible. There was an urgency in your movements as you impatiently tugged your boyfriend’s boxer briefs down, palming his cock while he tugged your sweater off and shoved your panties down your legs.
“Lloyd, please, I need you,” you gasped, wrenching your lips from his to suck in some much-needed air. The fingers of your free hand curled in the hair at the back of his head, clinging to him while stroked his cock, your thigh lifting and trying to curl around his hip. “Need your cock inside me, need you to fill me up, sir, please.”
“Fuck, alright, alright, lollipop—you want my cock, you’ll get it,” Lloyd rumbled, his hand grabbing your raised thigh and lifting it higher. His fingers dug into your plush softness while he hooked it around his hip and you guided his cock to your entrance. “Take it, honey bee, take your man’s cock.”
You sank down on Lloyd’s cock while he pressed into you, filling you up in one smooth stroke that had your head falling back against the wall and a filthy moan spilling from your lips. You weren’t quite wet enough to take him easily, but you enjoyed the slight burn and the ache of being stretched around his hard length too much to complain. 
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll face, looking so fucking blissed out on my cock,” Lloyd said on a grunt, pulling out slightly and pushing in again, making you both moan. “I could get used to this—coming home to you and filling your cunt while your body clings to me, sucking me deeper.” 
“Yes, yes, please, sir, I want that,” you babbled, the words falling from your lips and finding you did want it. You wanted Lloyd coming home to you every day, fucking you over the nearest surface and reminding you who you belonged to every night. “I want you filling me every day, fucking me, taking what’s yours.”
Lloyd chuckled, the sound deliciously sinful while he rocked into your body, fucking you against the wall of your apartment ruthlessly. All you could do was cling to him, your fingers curling in his hair, nails digging into the back of his neck while you held on for the ride.
“You want me to take what’s mine, sweet pea? Are you mine, sweet girl?” he teased mercilessly, fucking you even harder. 
It was on the tip of your tongue to say yes, you were his, but then Lloyd changed the angle of his hips. The base of his cock rubbed meanly against your clit with every thrust and you cried out loudly, your back arching away from the wall and your hips bearing down on his cock as you barreled toward your release.
“Lloyd,” you gasped, barely able to get the words out, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Do it, cutie, cum for me,” Lloyd urged, fucking you in hard thrusts, pausing between each to grind against your clit  “Be a good girl and show me you’re mine, honey pie—cum all over my cock.” 
Between his commanding words and the relentless grinding of his hips, his cock buried to the hilt in your soaking wet pussy, it was too much. Your release crashed over you, making you scream in pleasure while you came on Lloyd’s cock, your inner walls clenching hard enough around him to make him grunt. 
With a few more short, hard thrusts, Lloyd followed you over the edge, burying his face in your neck and muffling a loud groan against your skin as he spilled inside you. Your pussy squeezed every last drop of cum from his length, the two of you collapsing against the wall at your back as you caught your breath and rode out the aftershocks of your releases.
Once you recovered enough to move, the two of you stumbled down the hall toward your bedroom, taking a quick detour to the bathroom to clean up before tumbling into bed together. Lloyd had snagged his shirt from where he’d dropped in your living room and he pulled it over your head, swaddling you in his scent before pulling you close to cuddle.
Your boyfriend lay on his back, your body splayed across his chest, your ear pressed to his sternum while you listened to the steady beat of his heart. After a short time of enjoying each other’s presence, you raised your head, your eyes greedily raking over Lloyd’s handsome face while your fingers played idly with his mustache. 
“Thank you for cutting your trip short,” you murmured softly, your eyes fixed on Lloyd’s mouth, watching the corners flicker with a smile. “I really didn’t expect you to that just for Valentine’s Day.” 
“I did it for you, sweetheart,” Lloyd purred, his fingers closing around your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips, pressing kisses to the pads of each one until you looked up into his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much affection, it made your breath catch in your throat. He murmured, “I love you.”
It was the first time either of you had said those words and you were surprised by the rush of emotion that flooded your heart when you heard them. Tears pricked at your eyes and you quickly dashed them away. 
“I love you, too, Lloyd,” you murmured, pulling your hand away from his mouth so you could replace it with your lips. You kissed him hard, and he did the same, banding an arm around your lower back and cradling your head while he rolled on top of you. 
When he started kissing down your neck, you tipped your head to the side and let out a delighted giggle at the way his mustache tickled your skin. You felt like you were bubbling with happiness, and you couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth. 
“So I guess I really did match you with your true love, didn’t I?” you teased playfully, enjoying the way Lloyd laughed against your skin, making your pulse pump harder through your body. “Another satisfied cupid customer,” you joked, your legs wrapping around Lloyd’s hips and squirming beneath his hardening cock.
“Oh I’m very satisfied,” Lloyd said, lifting up to capture your lips in another kiss. His hips rocked between your thighs, grinding his cock against your soft pussy, making both of you moan at the pleasurable slide of your bodies. “You can be my cupid anytime, sugar pie, as long as you’re the one I end up with.”
“Always,” you purred, clinging to Lloyd while he slid inside you again. Then he was stealing your breath with another kiss, fucking you in slow strokes, savoring your body and murmuring his love against your lips. 
All told, it was the first of many happy Valentine’s Days with your boyfriend—and future husband—Lloyd Hansen.
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arc-misadventures · 2 days ago
Text
A Pokémon Trainers Adventures
Today a group of Pokémon trainers in training were all meeting together at a diner catching up on their adventures throughout the lands of, Sinnoh on the way to becoming, Pokémon Masters
Ruby: Whoo! It's great to see you guys again!
Blake: It's great to see you too, Ruby.
Nora: It feels like it's been years since we last met.
Ren: It's only been five months.
Nora: Years...
Pyrrha: It's been years in, Nora's time.
Ren: ...
Weiss: That makes sense.
Ren: An uncomfortable amount of sense.
Yang: So, what crazy adventures did you guys go on while becoming Pokémon masters?
Nora: Oh, me first!
Yang: Alright, go ahead, Nora.
Nora: Okay... I was deep in the industrial zone, searching for, Pokémon to add to my party... When suddenly from out of the shadows appear a derange vacuum cleaner coming straight at me, with murderous intent in it's eyes! I call out my, Bronzor, Blingy ,and we engaged in a grueling duel to the death with this killer vacuum! It was a fierce duel, but we managed to defeat the vile vacuum cleaner! But, after we destroyed the evil vacuum, a Pokémon flew out of the machine, but before it could escape, I threw a Great Ball at it, and I caught, Rotoma!
RWBYP: Rotoma?
Ren: The vacuum cleaner was possessed by a, Rotom. When, Nora caught him, so she named it, Rotoma
RWBYP: Ohh!
Yang: Nice name!
Ruby: Okay, my turn! So, I recently defeated the gym leader of, Veilstone City, Gym Leader, Maylene!
Yang: Oh, nice job, Ruby!
Blake: Well done!
Ruby: Thanks! It was a tough to fight her, and her fighting type Pokémon gave my guys a run for their money. We barely managed to eke out a win. I've been doing some training to strengthen my, Pokémon so we're not stuck on the ropes again.
Pyrrha: Smart move, Ruby. That's what I did after I beat, the gym leader of, Calavane City, Byron. He may have mostly metal type, but my, Luxray was knocked out in the first round with ease!
Weiss: Yeah, gym leaders may specialize on one type of Pokémon, but that doesn't mean they're a pushover if you have a Pokémon that their pokemon is weak against. Like when I lost to, Gardenia with my, Glaceon.
Ruby: But, aren't water type, Pokemon, weak to grass types?
Weiss: Vaporeon is the water type eeveelution. Glaceon is the ice type eeveelution.
Ruby: Ohh! So she curb stomped your Pokémon then?
Weiss: She bullied poor, Mr. Snappy...
Yang: Mr. Snappy?
Blake: That's what, Weiss calls her, Sharpedo.
Yang: Oh that's cute!
Blake: So, what about you, Ren, anything interesting happen to you?
Ren: Oh, well... I found a Pokémon egg a while ago, and I was nursing it, and it recently hatched into a, Riolu.
Yang: Oh, a Riolu! That's a nice Pokémon to have!
Blake: Are you having a hard time training it?
Ren: No, she's a delight to have around, I'm enjoying training her with the rest of my other Pokémon. What about you, Yang, did you do anything interesting?
Yang: Oh, I've been entering some Pokémon beauty contest lately. I haven't won anything yet, but we've gotten pretty close to. So, we've been training for the next competition. What, about you, Blake?
Blake: Not much, bar getting my ass handed to me by the gym leader of, Hearthome City, Fantina. Her ghost type Pokémon do not play around...
Pyrrha: Yeah, I still haven't beaten her myself.
Weiss: Her Pokémon scare me...!
Nora: Me too!
Ruby: Well, I don't I think her Pokémon are really cool!
Yang: Of course you like ghosts.
Ruby: What, they're cool!
Pyrrha: Hahaha! So, what about you, Jaune?
Jaune: Hmm... what?
Pyrrha: You've been pretty quiet. Has something interesting happen lately?
Jaune: Well... kinda...
Yang: Ohh~! You got an interesting story to tell! Let's hear it!
Jaune: Well...
~~~
Unlike the rest of his friends, Jaune was just having an adventure, exploring the lands of, Sinnoh. Exploring the land, meeting new people, and Pokémon. Occasionally engaging in a battles with his fellow trainers, and when he decides he ready to, engage in a match with a gym leader.
He didn't have a lot of problems, or more accurately, challenges whenever he got into a Pokémon battle. He even had a fight against, Sinnoh's Pokémon champion, and honestly, he enjoyed the conversation the pair had afterwards more so than the battle itself. So, instead of worrying about Pokémon battles, gym badges, and what not, he just went on an adventure with his Pokémon, and meeting new Pokémon, and people.
And, one day while, Jaune was enjoying the beauty of a pound filled with lily pads, enjoying the elegant lotus blossoms upon the lily pads. A content sigh escaped his lips as he just enjoyed the moment. But as, Jaune was watchin the pound, he saw a dark shadow from the cave the pound fed into grow darker, and darker across the lily pads, as he eyes were drawn upward. His eyes widened in stunned awe, as he looked into the deep crimson eyes of the being on the other side of the void: Giratina.
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Jaune: ...
Giratina: ...
Jaune: ...
Giratina: ...
Jaune: Hi.
Giratina: ZEHHAAA!!!
Jaune: ...
Jaune: Okay...
~~~
Jaune: ...
Pyrrha: Jaune? Jaune you okay...?
Jaune: I have a date with the, Sinnoh Pokémon Champion, Cynthia!
RWBYNPR: WHAT?!
Yang: You've got a date with who?!
Weiss: That's fucking bullshit!
~~~
Jaune: Oh gods...
: So because you thought your friends wouldn't believe the fact you saw the legendary banished Pokémon, Giratina. You instead said that you had a date with, Sinnoh's Pokémon champion?
Jaune: Honestly, I don't think they would believe me if I had a date in general, much less with who I said it was with.
: Honestly, I have a hard time believing it myself.
Jaune: Cynthia, we're on a date right now?
Cynthia: ...
Cynthia: Oh yeah...
238 notes · View notes
zorilleerrant · 19 hours ago
Note
So the differences between these two cover a lot. They are both con men. They are both autistically obsessed with their special coats. They do pay careful attention to fashion trends and tailor their appearances to the space they're trying to infiltrate, something that seemed fun and easy to them to begin with. (Altho I do get the impression Captain Jack signed up initially out of some sense of duty or protecting his fellow sapients.) They're both family men who are terrified of endangering their families. The type of guy is likely to draw the same crowd in a lot of cases. The details vary a lot.
First, erotic relationships - while Constantine sleeps around whenever he's single (or, rather, used to when he was younger), he's a serial monogamist at heart. He falls fast and deep for whoever's caught his eye this minute, even when he's trying to keep it casual. He always expects it to be long term, and his overly intense expectations inevitably cause him to fuck something up. While he's open to sexual experimentation with his current partner (orgies, etc.), he can't really handle polyamory. Captain Jack, on the other hand, is capable of understanding monogamous relationships (it probably exists as a queer identity where he's from), but he struggles to engage in one. He meets people where they are, though, and so sometimes engages in relationships that are dispreferential to him, figuring he can fill that in elsewhere.
Second, killing - Captain Jack considers himself a soldier, even when he's doing civilian things, even when he's on the run, even when he's working for a very different cause than a war. War shaped him, and war stole away his limits. He has no hesitation about killing people if it's necessary. Even when he knows them, loves them, doesn't want to hurt them: when he knows it's necessary, he simply acts. He doesn't enjoy hurting or killing people, but he does consider it a tool always available to him. Constantine is capable of killing people, but just barely. Even when he knows it's absolutely necessary, he will hunt for every other possible option, often until the time is up. He's incapable of killing a child even when he knows that child will grow up to destroy the universe. Until his life or the life of a loved one is directly threatened, he has trouble acting. Counterintuitively, this means that Captain Jack feels directly responsible for any death that he orders or obliquely causes, while Constantine in much more picky about what blood he carries on his hands.
Third, trauma - Captain Jack exists to embody heavily dramatized impossible traumas that, while they have analogy to real people's problems, exaggerate and contort them until they're safe to deal with in a fantasy context. Constantine does the opposite. Constantine's traumas are almost exclusively meant to be very real, very concrete things that happen directly to real people, and where his reactions to them are realistic, even when they involve magic (in either causing or healing the trauma). Captain Jack's bad memories are symbolic, metaphorical, allegorical. Constantine's bad memories are relatable and believable. (Both of them are direct explorations of common queer experiences, though.)
Fourth, powers - Constantine is almost entirely self-taught. While he did obtain mentors and friends to help him expand his repertoire later in his career, this was after he learned everything that was dangerous with no guidance, oversight, or support. He's often said to be a relatively weak magic user, and most of his impressive skill comes from the fact that he had to learn loopholes and exploits to do everything he ever did, from the ground up, instead of following any established pattern of magic users. That and making terrible bargains with all manner of more powerful creatures, most of whom only ever had his worst interests at heart. Captain Jack, on the other hand, was taught rigorously by many different organizations. He was considered exceptionally skilled, a prodigy even, and always enjoyed easy support from his colleagues. Everything else is from one specific accident born from love.
Fifth, self-image - Captain Jack has lots of regrets and lots of wishes, but in general, he thinks of himself as someone who's trying to do good things. He doesn't think he's the worst person just because he's not the best person, and he always strives to improve, because he believes in himself. He's suicidal mostly because he thinks it's unnatural the way he exists, and because of grief. Constantine hates everything about himself at all times. He's trying, he's desperately trying, but he doesn't think he's capable of turning himself into someone who deserves to be alive. He has all kinds of internalized bigotry that he'd be horrified if anyone else said, but believes is true about himself. He firmly believes he is the worst person who ever existed and yet he's afraid to die.
Themes Constantine focuses on that Captain Jack doesn't:
addiction
religion
sexual abuse and recovery
poverty/systemic classism
solidarity and mutual aid
footie
Themes Captain Jack focuses on that Constantine doesn't:
exile/cultural history erasure
chosen family
the ethics of coverups
the universalism of violence/the universalism of kindness
ties through time and place
workplace sex
Themes that both focus on:
grief and loss
alienation from wider culture
power and responsibility
star-crossed love
how good and evil on a grand scale interacts with the personal
monsterfucking
You seem like you would know the answer to this question, are Jack Harkness and John Constantine the Same Guy? I know they're from different things and only have the vaguest dashboard osmosis idea about either of them but the instinct is so strong. What is causing this? Help
you've osmosed them into a single slutty bisexual disaster man that doesn't mind his own business and refuses to die
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murasaki-cha · 3 days ago
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After the Ithaca Saga, I believe that Odysseus thought he and Athena were officially done forever and would only occasionally see each other because she was mentoring Telemachus now. He really thinks there's no way they can reconnect anymore and attempt at a friendship this time, but he's fine with it, he can accept it.
That is until Telemachus goes up to him one day like:
"Hey father, can I ask you something?"
"Yes son, of course."
"You mentored under Athena before right? Do you happen to know a friend of hers?"
"Oh I... I wasn't aware Athena had friends before. She was very adamant about that "No Friends" rule back then... kind of stings."
"Oh really? She talks about him a lot."
"Does she now? *mumbling* must be so special about this fRieNd of Athena..."
"Yeah she told me about this one time he wanted to impress someone, so he climbed on all the way to the tree branch next to the balcony of their room and leaned against the trunk to look cool, but he kept talking to Athena in her owl appearance so he didn't notice the other person going to the balcony and he got so spooked when they called out to him, he turned too fast and lost balance, slipped, smacked his ass on the tree branch and broke his arm when he fell, so he had to wear a sling for 3 months and couldn't sit down for 2 weeks."
"....call Athena right now."
"Why-"
"ATHENA!!!"
The second Athena appeared, Odysseus threw himself at her, on one hand going "YOU CONSIDER ME YOUR FRIEND WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SO!?!?!?!" and on the other going "WHY ARE YOU TELLING MY SON ALL MY EMBARRASSING STORIES!?!?! THAT WAS BETWEEN ME, PENELOPE AND YOU!!"
He was actually crying. Athena has absolutely no idea what is happening or what she should do. Telemachus just discovered a whole new side of his dad and might know where he gets it from now....
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asksonicverse · 1 day ago
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You dont need to answer but I just wanted to tell you I adore Paradox being like "I hate all of them except" and then listing everyone except like 2 guys, honey you don't hate *all* of them you expressly don't hate *most of them*
Extremely charming characterization i adore it
[Creator Special number 2!]
So glad someone noticed that, I was originally going to have him name EVERYONE except Boost but then I was like “nah, Mania is just too annoying for Paradox to tolerate him”
And thanks! I’m trying to be… consistent with my characterization of each of them and stay in line with canon but like… URGH sometimes I want to deviate so bad just to indulge but I resist!
Needless to say tho, prism is probably going to get more affectionate later on. Rewatched Sonic Prime again and bro is a cutie patootie!
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Headcanons… headcanons… hmm
Well, starting with the obvious, Paradox goes to therapy as I’ve mentioned which I think is hilarious. He and Lance are the only Shadows who really have their shit together which is why I think Sonadow works well for them? (we stan healthy relationships guys)
I do head canon that Eight doesn’t like being touched really at all anymore. After the metal virus, he grew so used to the fact that he couldn’t touch anyone that it sorta just stuck. He does it to save people, but not anything more. :(
And while I’m a sucker for the Trans Sonic HC I decided not to implement it in this particular AU!
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I really want to include Captain Sonic and Shadow, but I haven’t played nor watched a serious play through of the game. (I’ve only really listened to a bit of the Snapcube dub..)
can someone tell me if Shadow is a Barista or a Mechanic in that game btw?? I google it, nothing pops up. I could’ve sworn there was something about a mechanic.
Uhh I LOVE Sonic Frontiers, fire game. If I include that one, it’ll ALSO be Sonamy since I’m pretty sure that game takes place before SA2 in canon?
I’m trying to keep the Sonics and Shadows balanced but I’d love to add Generations Shadow and Sonic. Just thinking of names already I get “Doom” for Shadow and “Emerald” for Sonic. (Referencing the fake emerald from their interaction in the shadow story)
Unfortunately I haven’t seen the Archie comics or Sonic Underground so I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Someone also asked about if I’d ever include different AU’s: maybe if those AU creators gave me permission I’d be down to do a collab for a few asks or something!
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Nope!
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I dunno I just..! … how do I do? I’m fast. And you’re slow. That’s how I did it. /ref
Ahahah just kidding! But I am very fast. A few years ago I convinced myself I was a “slow drawer” because I was in a discord server with someone I looked up to (and holy cheese they could draw out fully articulate sketches in like 30 seconds!)
So I got insecure and taught myself to draw really fast. So now I just.. zoom! This does have a terrible draw back where I will very frequently forget smaller details.
Like if you look at half the posts, Shadow is missing his eyeliner and other markings frequently.
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THIS IS JUST HILARIOUS TO ME YOU GUYS. PLEASE—
I’ve gotten SO many asks in my box about using Maria to calm the Shadows down or trying to give Shadows “Maria plushies”
Imagine you’re having a bad day and you get a plushie of your dead sibling thrown at you??? LMFAOOOO
I CANT I CANT I CANT PUT THEM THROUGH THAT 💔 Also I see every single ask.
“Do you all like Latinas” and “sonic which shadow is the hottest/shadow which sonic is the hottest” have all been engraved in my brain
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Was joking with a friend on how that second question would come out LMFAOO
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theglassofmiddleearth · 19 hours ago
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Imagine Reader in the 141 who just wants to get food and sleep.
Next
Reader! only ended up in the military because the recruiters said that there would be free food and lodging. Her parents had decided to travel the world thanks to their early retirement. They initially wanted to keep the house for Reader! to live in but she decided instead to rent out the house. This way, she would get passive income AND didn't have to worry too much about the upkeep of the house! (Her neighbours would keep an eye on the tenants)
Reader! really just joined because she needed something to do instead of a regular 9-5 desk job. Little did she know, being in the military had a LOT more paperwork than her old job. (She sometimes bribes Soap to do it for her. Price also knows. They both have very different hand writing..)
Reader! has always been quite slippery, cunning even. (Somehow still clumsy though) Flying through her training and earning her call sign Camera Guy on her first mission, she was assigned to a special operations task force.
People who don't know the story think, 'Camera Guy' is some pervert dude or something. Reader hears a lot of people (unknowingly) chatting about her. They either think she has pictures of naked people or think she photographs models. Of course they have no idea it's a woman. (Assholes.)
Reader was sent in as a spy to scout out a target. She needed to confirm that said target was the new crime lord that was smuggling American artillery. To do this, she needed to capture some sort of illegal or suspicious activity.
Long story short, she got trapped between a gang fight between the target and the rival gang. Somehow stayed alive and, filming the whole thing behind the bar. She was the only one who came out unscathed within the bar. The rest of the task force rushed in during the confusion, giving the reader time to subdue the target and capture him. (Used an empty bottle to knock him unconscious)
Mission was such a success Laswell heard about it and had Reader transferred to the 141 because the rest of the task force keeps ‘accidently’ breaking their body cams.
141 not realising Reader is a woman until they see her.
‘Yer a lady?’ Soaps blue eyes are wide and confused.
‘Yep’ Reader shrugs, ready to be shown to her new room so she can take a damn nap.
‘But Camera Guy…..’ Gaz mumbled, blinking confusedly.
The silent muscle dude just gave a grunt, not particularly interested.
‘I never said it was a man.’ Price shrugged, ‘Welcome to the 141, you're bunking in the room next to Ghost.' Reader assumes it's the man with a ghost mask over his balaclava.
‘Yes Captain.’ Reader nods, rubbing their eyes. Not particularly intimated by the group of them. Reader stayed up late reading and needs sleep before she starts scowling at every noise made
Reader ends up snoring through the time she got to settle into her bunk. (Ghost heard her through the walls.) Thank goodness reader only snore when they're exhausted.
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goldenroutledge · 2 days ago
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someday my prince will come
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pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x fem!reader
word count ⤜ 3.7k
summary ⤜ fluff. in which you’ll never feel alone as long as you have rafe, and he’ll never feel alone as long as he has you.
warning(s) ⤜ wedding planning stress, toxic family members
a/n ⤜ inspired by ‘alone together’ - sabrina carpenter || masterlist
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Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed. That’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping it will wish away the cynicism surrounding what is supposed to be the happiest time in your life. Transactional relationships set the norm on Figure Eight for friends and foe alike. Everyone used anyone they could get their hands on, only leaving them for dead when the conditions were no longer suitable.
It should’ve been no surprise that people would be treating your upcoming marriage to Rafe that same way. As if it’s nothing but a transaction curated to mutually benefit yourself, Rafe, and your respective families. Truthfully, your relationship was anything but.
Years together proved that passion still burns between you, in a way that most can’t begin to dream of. Every look, every kiss and every touch holds that passion somewhere deep inside. There was no denying that you two have enough of it to last a lifetime and then some when Rafe got down on bended knee and asked you to spend your life with him. You love Rafe Cameron for all the right reasons and he loves you the same.
Your families and friends around you are fools to not acknowledge that, seemingly destined to have their own ways of projecting insecurities onto the both of you. Planning your wedding was something you imagined to be a magical time, selecting colors and florals that would paint a picture reminiscent of a fairytale. Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed.
From the moment your perfectly cut diamond ring was noticeable on your left hand, some chose to take it as a personal invitation to assert their unwarranted advice. It started with your mother, divorced and remarried now more times than you care to keep track of. Her guidance hardly resembles the special experience between mother and daughter that planning a wedding usually brings. After one of your first meetings with your wedding planner, you’d come to regret asking your mother to accompany you.
“I just don’t see why he’s walking you down the aisle instead of me.”
“You mean my father? I didn’t think you’d have such an issue with it given you chose to marry and have a child with him.”
“And I chose to divorce the asshole, too.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with me, Mom. You both made your choices and I made mine. My father is going to be at my wedding whether you like it or not.”
“50 feet away from me at all times, I hope.” She speaks lowly, barely under her breath. You’d be burning with embarrassment right now if it weren’t for your wedding planner, ever attuned and able to spot an argument a mile away, who kindly left you and your mother to chat in private.
“Please, don’t worry about that. I’m sure he wants nothing to do with you either. The only difference is that he’s willing to tolerate you for the sake of my happiness.”
“This isn’t about happiness, Y/n. It’s about respect. Had I not raised you right, you wouldn’t be able to attract a man like Rafe in the first place. The least you could do is acknowledge your mother on your wedding day.”
“That’ll make for a beautiful toast at your next brunch with the ladies from the club. I’ll be sure to write that down.” You chide sarcastically, unable to hold back from rolling your eyes at her audaciousness. “It’s good to know that’s what you’re really excited about. Showboating to your friends that I found someone successful, not that I found someone I love.”
“Like it or not, it’s the truth. I’m not afraid to be honest with you unlike some people in your life.”
“What exactly is honest about guilt tripping me into letting you make all of my wedding decisions for me? For us! You’re lucky Rafe isn’t here or he would’ve thrown you out by now.”
“And risk our relationship just when we’re about to be in-laws? You’re ridiculous. I hope he knows the kind of dramatics he’s marrying into.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m not trying to be malicious, dear. I just want you to have your priorities straight.”
“Believe me, they are.”
“You can’t forget your family in the process, my darling. You can’t just leave me behind like I don’t exist because when this marriage is over you’ll realize that I’m not as crazy as you think. You’ll need me again one day.”
“When my marriage is over? This isn’t some fucking contract. We love each other.”
“There’s no need to get hysterical, Y/n. I told myself all the same things too. You’ll see.”
Your conversation with your mother left you disheartened at best, infuriated at worst. One look into Rafe’s eyes would have your worries melting away, but you can’t help the nagging feeling inside that’s telling you to say something. You know how much courage it took for him to open his heart to you in the way that he has. You know how much courage it’s taken for you to open your heart, too. You know how with each other it’s been so easy that neither of you really noticed how naturally your love has blossomed. When you fell for each other, there was nothing that could stop you.
That explains why this nagging feeling, that you assume is guilt, simply won’t go away. How can you imagine getting married to Rafe Cameron, the love of your life, and feel anything but unbridled joy. To give a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone doubting your relationship, you’d love nothing more than to proclaim your love for each other in front of a crowd. But in the many scenarios you’ve played in your head, none of them put you at ease.
There was no denying the deep trust that connects you, knowing that you can tell him whatever is on your mind. The worst thing you’ve ever done, the darkest thought you’ve ever had, he will stand by you through anything. And you would do the same for him. It’s why the idea of saying: ‘Hey, by the way, I don’t want a wedding’, is not something you can muster the courage for. Guilt begs you to tell him anyway, knowing how badly he would feel to know you’re suffering in silence like this.
Little do you know, Rafe is troubled in reconciling his own guilt. It’s not just your mother who wants to see the worst come of your relationship. Considering Rafe’s strained dynamic with his father, that should come as no surprise.
Cameron Development takes up most of Rafe’s time these days, leaving him and Ward to spend quite a lot of it together. Rafe prefers to keep their topics of discussion focused on the company. Their relationship works best that way, a transactional partnership between father and son that would benefit the Cameron legacy for generations.
But if it weren’t for Ward’s nagging, Rafe never would’ve ended up here at the Island Club having lunch with his father. He knows for a fact that it would’ve been time better spent with you, his future wife, desperate to feel the kiss of your lips or be able to exhale in your arms in the midst of a busy day.
Ward spends all of 5 minutes discussing some company stuff that could’ve easily been sent in an email drafted by his assistant before getting down to his real intentions. He always hides them behind the mask of a loving father.
“I lied about why I needed to speak with you today.”
Rafe scoffs, but always manages his expectations when it comes to Ward. “Imagine that.”
Ward chuckles, trying to play off his son’s jab as innocent sarcasm. “I wanted to talk to you about your soon-to-be marriage to Y/n.”
Rafe takes a gulp of his drink, already feeling slightly on edge and on guard at the mention of your life together. “What about it?”
“Have you two discussed a prenup?”
“Dad-” Rafe tries to interject, but to no avail. Ward’s already a step ahead of him.
“I know it’s only been a couple months into the engagement, but it’s never too early to have these conversations.”
“I don’t need to worry about having these conversations at all. And you definitely don’t need to be concerned with it either because I’m not asking her to sign a prenup. Simple as that.”
“Rafe, if there’s anything I’ve learned in my marriage to Rose-”
“Your marriage to Rose is a sham. And Y/n is nothing like her.”
“Y/n’s great.” Ward seemingly surrenders, in hopes to disarm Rafe while still getting his point across. “I’m not trying to suggest otherwise. I’m just saying that things happen in marriages and you need to be prepared. What do you think will happen to Cameron Development if she winds up with half in a divorce?”
“If we get divorced, it means that I’ve got bigger problems than potentially losing Cameron Development.” Rafe laments, finishing his drink. “Besides, she wouldn’t want it.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I know her. For sure. Alright?” Rafe fires back, firm intent behind every word. “I know you have a hard time imagining what it’s like to be loved for something other than your money. And I’m sure you have a harder time imagining how she could love me without it. But you can save your fatherly advice, I’m gonna live my life with Y/n without any of your prenup bullshit.”
Rafe grabs his wallet from his pocket, throwing down several bills on the table that he doesn’t bother counting. All that’s on his mind right now is getting back home to you.
“Have a nice day, Dad.”
At this point in his life, Rafe has mastered the art of ignoring Ward Cameron. He’s come to accept that they’re simply a better duo in business than as father and son. The family he came from felt less like family when he fell in love with you. Now that you were about to be married, it was gonna be real. You would be each other’s family not only in spirit, but officially on paper. For the rest of your lives you would be where you always belonged; together.
Right now, Rafe can’t shake the feeling that his father is already preparing for everything to fall apart before you two have a chance to build anything more. Logically, he knows the concept of a prenup isn’t a stupid idea. But his father’s intentions for him have proven to be anything but pure. There’s always something in it for Ward.
Rafe loves you, and that means he’s ready to share his life with you, money be damned. Besides there’s nobody more deserving for him to spend it on, no matter how badly you insist that you don’t love him for the fine jewelry or the dates at expensive restaurants around the island. For him, that’s all the more reason why he commits to showing you a lifestyle that’s beyond comprehension.
He wants to tell you about the absolute bullshit his father brought him to lunch to talk about today but hesitates in mentioning it at all. In any other scenario you’d both laugh it off, but this was a special time for your relationship. It’s delicate, and deserves to be handled with care. Rafe wants nothing more than to protect you from anyone looking to tarnish it.
Rafe’s final straw strikes later that night while waiting for you to finish your skincare routine and join him in bed. His phone sounds with several text messages from Topper. His eyebrows furrow in curiosity, expression quickly turning sour as he reads the messages.
Clearly, after cutting lunch short, Ward was quick to enlist Topper Thornton into his agenda. Seeing the way he wears his heart on his sleeve, he’s an easy enough target to carry out something like this. Rafe scans the messages, catching the gist of it.
Something about ‘A prenup is just insurance, you might not need it! But you should be prepared anyway cause she could leave you at any time, bro’ and ‘Have you heard of the infidelity clause? I'm not saying she would, but you know what Sarah did to me, better be safe than sorry.’ Rafe’s frustration catches your attention when he curses something about ‘this motherfucker’ under his breath.
“Everything okay, baby?”
Rafe looks up to meet your eyes peeking outside the bathroom door. He gives you a reassuring smile, but you can tell that it doesn’t reach his eyes. Coupled with the fact that his energy has been off ever since he got home today, you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing, it’s just Topper bitching to me about the wedding. He doesn’t think he’ll find a date in time.” Rafe cringes at his white lie, but figures it’s better not to stress you out when you’re about to go to sleep. And it’s not completely untrue, Topper has expressed his concerns about finding a date ever since he found out about the engagement. At this point, it’s to be determined if he’s still invited.
You chuckle at the thought. “Our wedding date is 7 months away, surely that’s enough time.”
“Speaking of our wedding.” Rafe starts, which reminds you of the pit in your stomach. “How did it go with your mom today?”
“It was good.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows inquisitively, picking up on the uncertainty in your voice. Finishing your nighttime routine, you make your way to your shared bed. Rafe gets up to meet you halfway and to make sure you’re okay. He’ll be able to tell with just a glance.
“Okay, baby. You know as long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Your heart flutters and you smile at him, knowing in your heart that he truly means it. “I know.” You press a kiss to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his large frame. Being in his embrace drowns out any lingering thoughts of frustration. After all, you could choose to blame it on pure exhaustion clouding your mind. “Can you believe we’re getting married in seven months?”
Rafe beams at the thought. “No. Can’t even fathom what I’ve done in my life to deserve you in the first place.”
You shove his chest softly, the tips of your ears warming up at his words. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”
“Not sure about that one, baby.”
You sigh, full of contentment while being held in the secure hold of your fiance. Yet a part of you still feels resigned from the stresses of today. “Just ask my mother.”
You can feel Rafe’s muscles tense slightly before he pulls back to look at you. “What do you mean? I thought it went well today?” The gears are turning in his head as he anticipates your response. He’s always been great at picking up on the smallest of cues, be it the change in your tone or the look in your eyes.
“It could’ve been better. I mean you know her, she always has something negative to say about everything, she’s pretty much allergic to my happiness.” You chuckle softly, trying to deflect and keep the conversation from going where it’s headed.
Rafe is having none of it. “She doesn’t think we should get married?”
“Not without her involvement, ad nauseam. Everything I suggested, she had a better idea. She’s trying to guilt trip me into letting her walk me down the aisle instead of my dad. It was just her usual schtick, trying to control me any way she can, hoping she’ll get my attention by using our wedding to play her little mind games.”
“You don’t owe anything to her, not about this. Besides, security will take care of it if there’s any problems. I’m not gonna let anything ruin this for us.”
“I know.” You reassure him, running your hand up and down his arm. “It’s just a lot of tradition this, and family legacy that. She’s sucking the joy out of everything, like usual.” You mumble that last sentence, almost hoping Rafe didn’t hear it. “Not that I’m not excited to marry you. You know what I mean, right?”
Rafe nods, flashing back to the conversation he had with his father at lunch today. It’s almost uncanny to him how you two are often on the same page about everything. It’s comforting above all else. “Yeah, I do. I know exactly what you mean. I had lunch with my dad today, got a lot of the same bullshit.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I shut him down. I guess our parents are just hellbent on making sure we do things the same way they did.”
“As if we want to be anything like them?”
Rafe chuckles at your quip, relieved at how you two are able to make light of the stress your families have imposed on you. “As if.”
You both stand in silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm of being in your lover’s arms. The weight of your worries feel lighter now that you’ve shared them with Rafe, unfortunately knowing that they’ve made a home with you until the big day is over and done with. Hopefully you make it, if the stress doesn’t kill you first. If there’s anyone you’d have by your side through this, it’s Rafe. You can’t imagine enduring the hardships that life has to offer with anyone else. Then again, there are worse problems to have. Just seven more months.
“Did you ever see yourself here before? Getting married?” You ask Rafe.
“Not until I found you.” He charms, satisfied with the way you snuggle even closer to him. “How about you?”
“The same. Never thought I’d find the one until I found you. If I’m honest, that’s all I’m excited for, to just be husband and wife.”
“Y/n?” You hum in response, matching his curious tone. “Do you even want a wedding?”
You freeze, noticeably tensing the same way Rafe did some time ago. You knew the answer and had a feeling that he did too. It was painful to put into words. “I want to be married to you, Rafe. You know that right?”
“I know that, silly. I wanna be married to you too, clearly.” Rafe acknowledges, brushing his thumb over the engagement ring on your finger. “But a ceremony and a reception, the tradition. Do you want that?”
You can’t help but give him a knowing look, one that says damn, you’re good. But it’s also filled with a plea for understanding. “I could live without it, but our wedding will be beautiful, Rafe. I just want to make sure that it’s ours. I hope you don’t have the wrong idea, that I’m having second thoughts or anything because I-”
Rafe cuts off your ramble by kissing you, your face cupped in his hands delicately. He’s gentle, but reassuring. He needs you to remember that he knows you and he’ll never forget.
“Run away with me?” His eyes gaze into yours and there’s an intensity of love behind them that leaves you tearing up. “Our wedding will be beautiful, because it will be ours. Just you and me. We can still have the actual event, don’t think that I don’t dream of you walking down the aisle towards me. We can still have the party and the tall ass cake that you deserve. But having that doesn’t mean we can’t have what we want.”
Rafe’s never been more sure of himself as he watches a tear slip down your cheek, his thumb wiping it away before it can fall too far. You beam at him, and it’s your turn to kiss the man that you love. The man that you’re about to run away and elope with.
“Screw tradition, let’s get married.”
The sun sets in the distance, giving you and your husband the perfect view of your spot on the beach, taking turns at feeding each other bites of a miniature cake, coated in a silky white frosting to commemorate your marriage. It was Rafe’s surprise to you, having ordered it custom, and practically overnight, decorated with icing rosettes and your new titles, Mr. and Mrs., written beautifully in the center.
“Our families might kill us, you know.”
Rafe’s smile doesn’t budge, he’s convinced it might just be stuck on his face forever as long as he’s spending it with you. “I guess that means we’ll have to die together then, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does.” You whisper, closing the distance to kiss your husband. You’ll never get sick of it. Golden rays from the setting sun surround you in glowing warmth, something you’ll feel in your heart from this day forward. The light catches your diamond ring perfectly and it winks at you with a sparkle, forever a reminder of the love you and Rafe share.
He pulls back, yet never too far as he holds your face in his hands. His cerulean eyes glimmer with a hope you only see when he’s looking back at you. “You don’t regret it? Not having the fairytale wedding?”
“This is my fairytale wedding. Just you, me, and a cake.” Rafe smiles, unable to imagine that this is his real life; unable to imagine that having him and him alone, is more than enough for you. There’s not a decision he’s been more sure of in his life than asking you to marry him. “Do you regret it? Marrying me without a prenup?”
Rafe scoffs lightheartedly. “You’ve already taken my heart so you might as well have the rest. Nothing else matters to me as long as you’re mine and I’m yours. I love you, remember? ‘Til death do us part.”
He holds out his pinky and you happily reciprocate the youthful gesture by locking your fingers together. “‘Til death do us part.”
Emotion overcomes you once more, pouring your heart into a kiss that’s as true as your promise to each other. You know he intends to keep his, and so do you. Daring to love each other through the pretty and the ugly, healing each other with a simple look or touch. You wouldn’t trade it for anything. If you don’t have each other, then you have nothing at all.
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💌: reblogs & comments are always appreciated! thank you for reading <3
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patrixjia · 2 days ago
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No Ordinary Groupie
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Plot Overview: You’re Bang Chan’s groupie. It started as a no-strings-attached fling, just the thrill of being close to him after the concerts. But as the nights blur together, so do your feelings—his and yours. What began as fun and games quickly becomes something more complicated, and you’re left wondering if this was ever just about sex or if you’re falling for the one person you can’t have.
Warnings: smut, explicit content, angst, lust/passion, angry sex, emotional intensity, tension and jealousy, explicit language, a bit of degradation, happy ending
☆・゚:✧☆・゚:✧☆☆・゚:✧☆・゚:✧☆☆・゚:✧☆・゚:✧☆☆・゚:✧☆・゚:✧
It started like any other concert. The deafening music, the blinding lights, the collective energy of thousands of voices singing in unison—it all blended into one euphoric moment. But you never imagined you’d be standing here, watching him from across the room, a little too close for comfort. The sweat on his skin, the intensity in his eyes as he scanned the crowd—it was like his gaze lingered a fraction too long. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but somehow, it always felt like he was looking right at you.
You’d told yourself it was just a coincidence the first few times. You were just another fan in the crowd, right? Another face in a sea of screaming STAYs, eager for a glimpse of their idol. But now? Now you were here backstage, lingering in the shadows, waiting for him like it was your spot. You’d slipped past security more times than you cared to count, your secret handshake with the staff—one only they seemed to know—making it easier each time. You’d been to so many concerts now that your face had become familiar, and with each show, your role seemed to shift. You weren’t just a fan anymore. You were his groupie.
You never thought it would be like this. Hell, you didn’t even know what the fuck a ‘groupie’ really was until it was you—until you were the one he pulled behind closed doors, the one he made sure was always there after the show, the one who stayed when everyone else was long gone. The one he’d kiss like it meant something, only to vanish into the night, leaving you with nothing but the thudding of your heart and the memory of his touch.
It had started with stolen moments—quick glances across the stage, backstage conversations as if no one else was watching. The text messages, casual at first, but slowly, gradually becoming something more. His words would linger, text after text, like a breadcrumb trail leading you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you wanted to go. You’d told yourself you’d stay detached—that you’d just enjoy the ride, keep things light, and move on. But every time he looked at you, every time his hand brushed against yours, every time he grinned like there was a secret only the two of you knew… it became harder and harder to pretend it was just about the music.
The first time you caught his eye? It was during the encore of a show. You’d always thought of him as just another idol, another guy performing for a crowd. You’d seen plenty of famous faces before, but there was something different about him. Maybe it was the way his energy filled the entire room, the way he didn’t just perform but became the music. Maybe it was the intensity in his gaze as he swept over the crowd, his eyes scanning the sea of people until they landed on you.
You didn’t think it was anything special at first. A passing glance, nothing more. You were just another face, another member of the audience, right? But as the seconds stretched on, his gaze didn’t waver. It felt like he was staring at you—like he saw something there that you didn’t even see in yourself. And that look… it was like an unspoken promise. A silent invitation to something you couldn’t name.
After the show, you weren’t expecting anything. But somehow, you found yourself in a coffee shop the next morning, standing in line, hoping to grab a caffeine boost to get through the day. You’d been going about your usual routine, convinced that meeting him the night before was just a one-off encounter. But fate had other plans.
There he was. Chan. In the same coffee shop, no more than a few steps away. You froze, unsure if you should act like you hadn’t seen him or just pretend it wasn’t a big deal. But then, he turned, his smile wide and unbothered like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“I swear, I’m not following you,” he said, his voice light, playful, as he slid into the seat across from you like he had every right to be there.
You couldn’t help but laugh, an involuntary response to the absurdity of it all. “You’re following me now?”
He smirked, taking a sip from his coffee, looking way too comfortable for someone who was supposed to be famous. “I’m just getting coffee. You happen to be in my favorite spot.”
“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, barely containing the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sure. You just happened to pick the same coffee shop on the same day at the same time…”
He shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, alright. You got me. But I’m glad I ran into you.”
There was no hiding the smile that broke across your face. Of course you were glad. After everything that had happened the night before, you both knew this wasn’t just a coincidence. This wasn’t just a random meeting. This was something—something that had started the night before and would continue whether you admitted it or not.
By the time you made it backstage that second night, you were already in too deep.
The whole backstage area felt like it belonged to him—every corner, every hallway, every whispered conversation. It wasn’t the music that kept you there anymore; it was him. The way he looked at you when no one else was watching. The way he touched you, lingering just a bit too long when no one was looking, his fingers brushing your skin like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way he made you feel like you weren’t just a face in the crowd, but someone who mattered to him.
And then, that first time—that first night.
You couldn’t quite remember how it happened, only that it was like everything changed in an instant. One minute, you were standing there, talking casually, as if the world hadn’t shifted under your feet. And then, the next moment, his lips were on yours, demanding, soft, and completely overwhelming. His hands were everywhere—under your shirt, pulling you close, pressing you against him like you were the only thing that mattered.
You could have stopped it. You could have pulled away, told him it was a mistake, told him you weren’t the type of girl who did this. But you didn’t. Because it felt right. In a way you couldn’t explain, it felt like this was where you were supposed to be.
And here you are again. Another concert. Another night where everything feels different. The lights are still blinding, the music still pounding in your chest, but this time, you don’t feel like you’re part of the crowd. This time, you’re his. The one he seeks out, the one he texts between shows, the one who’s always there in the background, waiting for him. It’s complicated, it’s messy, and it’s nothing like what you imagined when you first moved to Seoul.
But you can’t deny it anymore. It’s not just the music you’re here for. It’s him. And now, you’re his ‘regular groupie’. The one who knows all the backstage secrets, the one who gets special treatment, the one who stays long after the lights go out. You’re not just another fan anymore, and neither is he.
You never thought you’d be here. But then again, you never thought you’d end up falling for him.
The moment the final song ends, the roar of the crowd still vibrates through the walls of the venue. The adrenaline is thick in the air, the members still breathless from the performance, their bodies damp with sweat, grins plastered across their faces as they stumble off stage. The energy is chaotic, electric—post-show euphoria still buzzing in their veins.
You’re already waiting in the hallway leading to the dressing rooms, leaning against the wall with a casual ease that only comes from experience. This isn’t your first time here. You know exactly how this goes.
The first to spot you is Seungmin, his eyes lighting up as he jogs toward you. “Hey, look who’s here!” he calls, loud enough to get the others’ attention.
“Y/N!” Han beams, his voice slightly hoarse from performing but still bright with excitement. “How was it? Did we kill it or what?”
Felix, still buzzing with energy, practically bounces on his heels as he waits for your answer, while Hyunjin shoots you a knowing grin from behind him, tossing his sweat-damp hair out of his face.
“You guys were insane,” you say with a wide smile, your voice genuine. “Every show I go to, you just keep getting better. The energy, the performance, everything was unreal.”
Chan appears through the group, his presence like gravity, pulling your attention immediately to him. He’s still catching his breath, his hair a mess, sweat glistening on his skin, but his eyes—his eyes are locked onto you, unreadable yet intense.
Then, that smile. The slow, lazy curve of his lips, the kind that makes your stomach tighten, your pulse spike.
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice just low enough for you to hear over the chaos of the dressing room.
His arm finds your waist like it belongs there, fingers pressing lightly against the small of your back as he pulls you in. It’s subtle, almost casual, but the warmth of his body against yours is anything but. It’s a quiet claim, one that doesn’t need to be spoken.
The others, used to this by now, don’t bat an eye. They just keep laughing and talking, still riding the high of the show.
Then, Chan leans in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Come back to the dorm with us. Little afterparty, just to celebrate.”
You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There’s something behind those words—something heavier than just a casual invitation.
“And after a few drinks?” you tease, your voice low, playful.
His smirk deepens. “Something more,” he promises, fingers subtly squeezing at your waist.
You pretend to consider it for a second before giving a small nod. “Alright. You convinced me.”
From the side, Minho watches the exchange with a quiet knowing. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t call Chan out for the way he looks at you, for the way his hands linger on you longer than necessary. He just observes, his gaze sharp, understanding something that maybe even Chan himself isn’t ready to admit.
Chan pulls away, satisfied, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something deeper, something unspoken.
“We’ll head out in a bit,” he says, turning toward the others. “Y/N will meet us there.”
You already know the drill. You can’t just walk out with them, not without risking recognition. So, as the members pile into their usual cars, you’re led to a separate vehicle—a staff car, discreet, barely noticeable.
You settle into the backseat, the events of the night replaying in your mind, but most of all—his voice, that promise lingering in the space between your ribs.
Something more.
And you wonder, not for the first time, if either of you even knows what that really means anymore.
The atmosphere in the dorm is lively, the kind of buzz that lingers long after a good show. The music is playing low in the background, the members scattered across the living room, sprawled on couches or sitting on the floor. Empty soju bottles and half-eaten snacks litter the table, proof of the celebration already in full swing.
You’re comfortably seated on the couch, a half-filled shot glass of soju in hand, the warmth of alcohol already settling pleasantly in your veins. The energy is light, effortless, the conversations flowing easily between teasing and reminiscing about the night’s performance.
“You seriously nailed that last verse, Jisung,” you say, pointing your glass at him before taking a sip. “You looked possessed out there.”
Jisung laughs, leaning back with a smug grin. “Possessed by talent, obviously.”
“Possessed by something,” Felix chimes in, making the group chuckle.
From beside you, Chan snorts, shaking his head. He’s sitting close—not close enough to be obvious, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the awareness that’s always there between you two. His arm is stretched over the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing the ends of your hair, subtle but deliberate.
You glance at him, playful. “You were good too, I guess.”
Chan scoffs, tilting his head with an amused smirk. “Guess?”
You hum, tapping a finger against your chin as if you’re in deep thought. “Yeah, I mean… you were okay,” you tease, dragging out the word just to rile him up. “Not bad for a guy pushing thirty.”
The others burst out laughing, while Chan gapes at you, feigning offense. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’m just saying,” you shrug, barely biting back your grin.
“You know what?” He leans in a little, voice low enough that only you can hear. “I’ll remember that later.”
Your stomach flips at the weight in his tone, at the underlying promise beneath his words. You tilt your head, smirking. “Oh? You gonna prove me wrong?”
He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “You have no idea.”
Before you can retort, Changbin—who has definitely had one too many shots of soju—suddenly flops onto the couch beside you, his broad arm slinging over your shoulders.
“You’re so fun to have around, Y/N,” he says, his voice slightly slurred but affectionate. “Seriously, why aren’t you here all the time?”
You chuckle, leaning into his side without much thought. “Because I have a job, Binnie.”
He makes a dismissive sound, tightening his hold around you in a half-hug. “Your job should be hanging out with us.”
Minho raises an eyebrow, amused, but doesn’t say anything. Jisung snickers behind his glass.
You just shake your head, entertained. “Oh yeah? I should just quit and become your full-time party companion?”
“Yes!” Changbin exclaims, grinning. His hand slides down to your waist, resting there casually, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over the fabric of your shirt. It’s nothing too much, nothing you haven’t seen before—Changbin is always like this when he drinks, all warm affection and teddy bear energy.
So you don’t think anything of it. You indulge him, letting him rest his head against yours, laughing when he dramatically sighs and says something about how comfortable you are.
But you don’t see the way Chan’s jaw tenses.
He’s watching. Burning.
The fingers resting on the couch behind you curl into a fist. His easygoing posture remains the same, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, a flicker of something sharp in his expression.
Because he knows what Changbin is doing.
It’s not random, not just the usual drunk affection. No, Changbin is making a point—a very deliberate one. Because unlike you, he knows exactly how deep this runs for Chan.
And Chan hates it.
Hates how easily you lean into it. Hates how you laugh, how you let Changbin touch you so freely. Hates how unbothered you look—how it doesn’t even register to you that this might be a problem.
Because to you, this is just fun.
But to him?
This is his worst fucking nightmare unfolding in real-time.
Still, he doesn’t say anything.
Not yet.
He just grips his shot glass a little too tight, jaw clenched, the warmth in his veins now burning.
And the worst part?
Changbin smirks at him from over your shoulder.
Like he knows.
Like he’s challenging him.
And fuck—Chan hates losing.
Changbin hasn’t moved from your side. If anything, he’s only gotten bolder, the soju clearly fueling his every action.
His fingers, once resting innocently at your waist, now trace absentminded patterns over your hip. His arm around you lingers a little too long, his body leaning into yours just enough that the line between friendly and something else starts to blur.
And then there’s the flirting.
“Come on, Y/N,” Changbin says, voice playful, slurred just enough to be noticeable. “You sure you don’t wanna quit your job and just be my personal cheerleader?”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh? Yours specifically?”
“Obviously,” he grins. “I’d treat you right, you know? Spoil you. Carry you around the house if you’re too tired. You’d never have to lift a finger.”
From across the room, Jisung snorts. “Dude, you can barely carry your own weight when you’re drunk, let’s be serious.”
Changbin ignores him, his focus entirely on you. “Think about it, though,” he hums, his fingers lightly drumming against your thigh now, his voice dipping into something suggestive. “Bet you’d love the attention.”
You scoff, nudging him playfully. “You’re full of shit, Binnie.”
But you’re smiling, entertained by his antics. Because to you, this is just how he is—warm, affectionate, a little ridiculous when he drinks.
You don’t notice the way the room has shifted.
The way everyone has gone quiet.
The way Chan hasn’t said a single fucking word.
But the others? They see it.
Felix glances between the two of you and Chan, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Jisung raises an eyebrow, like he’s waiting for the inevitable.
And Minho—Minho just sighs, shaking his head slightly, because he knows. Knows exactly what Changbin is doing.
And he knows exactly why it’s working.
Because across from you, Chan is seething.
His fingers grip his shot glass so tightly his knuckles have gone white. His jaw is locked, his breathing slow and measured, like he’s forcing himself to keep it together.
But his eyes.
His eyes are burning, locked onto every single movement, every single touch, every single word that leaves Changbin’s mouth.
And then, Changbin—fucking Changbin—takes it one step further.
He turns his head, leans in just a little closer, his lips near your ear as he murmurs, “Or maybe you already like all the attention you’re getting, huh?”
And that’s it.
There’s the sharp, sudden scrape of glass against wood as Chan slams his drink onto the table, standing up so abruptly that the entire room freezes.
His chair scrapes back against the floor, his movements tight, controlled—but his expression?
Fury.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The words slice through the air, low and dangerous, his voice taut with restrained anger.
You blink, startled, finally looking up at him. “What?”
But Chan isn’t looking at you.
He’s staring directly at Changbin, his eyes dark, his body tense, barely keeping himself in check.
Changbin, to his credit, doesn’t back down. If anything, he looks satisfied, like he’s been waiting for this.
“What?” he echoes, feigning confusion. “What’s the big deal, hyung?” His voice is light, taunting. “I mean… after all, you’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”
Silence.
A thick, suffocating silence that stretches through the room.
Chan’s entire body locks up.
And the worst part?
You feel everything shift.
Because the way Chan stiffens—the way his breath catches—tells you everything.
This isn’t just about Changbin being drunk.
This isn’t about harmless flirting.
This is about something else entirely.
And suddenly, you get it.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
The tension in the room is thick, suffocating.
No one moves. No one breathes.
And then—Chan laughs.
But it’s not his usual laugh. It’s not warm, not full of amusement.
No, this is something sharp, something bitter, something that barely conceals the sheer rage simmering beneath his skin.
He tilts his head slightly, his jaw clenched so tightly you can practically hear his teeth grinding together. His hands ball into fists at his sides, muscles tensed like a predator about to pounce.
“Say that again,” Chan says, his voice dangerously low.
His tone makes the hairs on your arms stand up.
Changbin leans back slightly, but his expression is unapologetic, his mouth curling into something almost challenging. “I said,” he repeats, slow, deliberate, “what’s the big deal, huh? You’re just fucking, right? That’s what you said. Or what?”
The second time he says it, the words sting.
Because now you’re fully aware—of the way Chan’s fists are shaking, of the barely contained fury in his eyes, of the way his entire body looks like it’s about to snap.
But most of all—you’re aware of your own reaction.
Of the way your stomach twists.
Of the way your chest tightens.
Because it’s true.
That’s what Chan’s always said. That’s the unspoken rule between you two, the line that’s been drawn and reinforced over and over again.
And yet—he’s standing there, looking like he wants to fucking kill Changbin for just saying it out loud.
The air crackles, seconds stretching into an eternity.
And then—Chan moves.
Faster than you can register, he lunges.
The table between them rattles as Chan grabs a fistful of Changbin’s shirt, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart.
“You think you’re funny?” Chan growls, voice thick with barely contained rage. “You think this is a fucking joke?”
Changbin’s smirk falters slightly, but he doesn’t look scared. If anything, he looks vindicated.
“Oh, I know it’s not a joke,” he says, his voice lower now, something pointed in it. “But you keep acting like it is. Maybe it’s time you fucking admit it, Chan.”
Chan’s nostrils flare, his fingers tightening in Changbin’s shirt.
“Chan,” Minho warns, standing now, his voice calm but firm.
But Chan isn’t listening. His breathing is heavy, his entire body coiled, seething with something primal.
And then—Changbin glances at you.
Right at you.
And his next words are for you, not Chan.
“You really think this is just sex?” Changbin asks, voice quieter, almost pitying. “Because if you do—” His gaze flicks back to Chan, and he smirks. “Then why is he about to beat my ass over it?”
Something cracks in Chan’s expression.
Like something inside him has just snapped open, raw and exposed.
You feel it happen.
And it makes your heart fucking race.
Before anyone can react, Chan lets go of Changbin’s shirt—but only to turn on you.
The shift is instant. One second, he’s staring Changbin down like he’s about to throw a punch—the next, he’s grabbing your wrist, tight, his grip possessive.
Your breath catches.
“Come with me,” Chan says, voice low, rough—demanding.
You freeze. “Chan—”
“Now.”
The authority in his tone leaves no room for argument. He’s not asking.
And you—fuck, you should resist. You should say something, should call him out for how he’s acting.
But you don’t.
Because the way he’s looking at you—the fire in his eyes, the sheer desperation laced beneath the anger—sends a rush of heat down your spine so intense it almost knocks the air out of you.
So when he pulls you toward his room, his grip unrelenting, his movements rough, you don’t fight it.
You follow.
And the moment the door slams shut behind you, you know exactly what’s coming next.
And fuck—you want it.
The second the door slams shut, Chan has you.
Your back barely hits the wood before his mouth is on you, crushing against yours in a kiss that is desperate, furious, all teeth and tongue and raw need.
You gasp into it, barely able to keep up as his hands roam—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, pressing you against the door like he needs you there.
And fuck—you feel it.
The anger. The frustration. The jealousy that’s been burning in him, now spilling out in the way he holds you, in the way he devours you.
This isn’t just sex.
This is a claim.
You barely have a second to process before he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head against the door, his breath hot against your mouth.
“You think this is just fucking?” he growls, his voice rough, dangerous. “That what you think, huh?”
Your breath hitches.
“Chan—”
“Answer me.”
You swallow, your body burning beneath his touch. “I—”
But you can’t. You can’t answer, because you don’t know.
Because the way he’s looking at you right now—like he needs you, like he hates that he needs you—makes your head spin.
His grip on your wrists tightens, his body pressing flush against yours, pinning you there.
“Changbin touches you once,” he grits out, his jaw clenched, “and suddenly you forget who you belong to?”
Your stomach drops.
Your lips part, but no words come out.
And Chan notices.
His eyes flick between yours, something dark flashing in them—something possessive, something dangerous.
“That it?” he breathes, his voice low, pressing in even closer. “Say it.”
Your body shudders.
Because you can’t.
Because the moment you open your mouth, the only thing that comes out is a ragged, “Chan—”
And that’s all it takes.
Something inside him fucking snaps.
Suddenly, his grip breaks—only for his hands to move fast, dragging down your arms, over your shoulders, grabbing your hips as he spins you around, pressing your front against the door now, his chest firm against your back.
“You want me to remind you?” he murmurs darkly against your ear, his hands sliding under your shirt now, gripping at your bare skin. “Want me to show you?”
Your breath stutters, your fingers flexing against the door.
“Chan—”
“Say yes,” he rasps. “Say fucking yes.”
And fuck—fuck—you do.
“Yes.”
And then?
All hell fucking breaks loose.
The second the word yes leaves your lips, Chan moves.
His hands yank at your clothes, his patience completely shattered. The shirt you’re wearing is gone in seconds, peeled off like it’s offended him just by existing. His fingers dig into your waist, pressing you harder against the door, making sure you feel just how much he wants this—wants you.
“Fucking teasing me all night,” he grits against your ear, his breath hot, his tone dangerous. “Letting him put his fucking hands on you like it’s nothing.”
You shudder, your forehead falling against the door as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, dragging them down your hips, leaving you bare.
“I—”
“You what?” he interrupts, his palm smacking against your thigh before gripping at the flesh, kneading hard. “Didn’t notice? Didn’t think it was a big deal?”
You whimper at the sheer possessiveness laced in his voice, at the way his hands are claiming you.
“Didn’t think it’d fucking matter,” you gasp, your cheek pressing against the cool wood.
Chan laughs—but it’s dark, bitter.
“Didn’t think it’d matter?” His teeth graze the shell of your ear before he bites down, just hard enough to make you gasp. “Look at where you fucking are right now, baby. Look at what I’m about to do to you.”
His hands are everywhere—gripping, marking, making sure you feel him. His breath is ragged, his movements rough, his usual careful touches completely gone.
Because tonight isn’t about taking it slow.
It’s about making a fucking point.
You belong to him.
And by the time he’s done with you—you won’t forget it again.
Chan’s hands are everywhere—gripping, pulling, forcing you closer to him with each sharp motion. He’s barely holding on to the last sliver of control, and it’s obvious in the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his breath comes out in heavy, uneven pants.
His mouth trails down your neck, biting harshly at your skin, marking you like a fucking claim.
“You think you can tease me like that?” he spits, his voice hoarse with frustration. “Think you can let him touch you and nothing’s going to happen? You really think you’re just gonna waltz in here and walk out untouched?”
The anger in his tone is palpable, each word hitting you like a blow, each word reminding you how much he wants this, how much he’s burning for it.
You can barely hold yourself steady against the door. His hands are pulling at your underwear, tossing it aside with the same force as the rest of your clothes, stripping you of any semblance of control.
You’re shaking, your mind spinning as you finally understand the depth of his frustration. This is no longer about just sex—it’s about him needing to own you in the worst way possible. He’s not asking for permission. He’s demanding it.
His fingers slide between your legs, making you flinch at the roughness of the touch. He’s not being gentle. He’s not being careful. He’s giving you exactly what you’ve awakened in him—a need, a hunger that won’t be tamed.
“You’re mine,” he growls, voice low and dark. “Mine to fuck, mine to touch. Don’t you fucking forget it.”
You gasp, his fingers moving faster now, pushing you closer to the edge with each rough motion, but you don’t know if it’s because of him or the frustration rising inside you.
“Chan—please…” You don’t know if you’re begging for mercy or for more, but he’s not stopping.
“You want it? Want me to fuck you like you’re begging for it?” He growls, his hands pulling at your hips, guiding you to him. The heat from his body feels like a furnace behind you, and you’re desperate for it, desperate to feel all of him.
Without warning, he slams into you—hard, unforgiving.
You moan, your hands scrambling against the door for balance as he begins a pace that’s frantic, angry. There’s no rhythm, no gentleness. Just a fucking need to feel you, to claim you, to show you who you belong to.
Each thrust is a punishment. Each movement feels like an explosion of frustration, of desire that has finally been set free. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, but it’s not enough to calm the storm between you.
The only thing that matters is the sound of his voice—growling, demanding, pushing you to the edge of everything.
His hands grab your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his mouth now ravaging your skin like he’s trying to mark you for good. His words are gritted out in between thrusts, filled with venom and need.
“You think you’re just gonna walk away from me? Think I’ll let you leave here, like nothing ever happened?” His voice drops lower, almost a whisper. “You’re fucking wrong.”
You can barely breathe, your body giving in to him, to the need, to the rage he’s pouring into you. The heat between you is suffocating, overwhelming.
You’re his. In this moment, you’re nothing but his.
And when the pressure builds to a point where you can’t take it anymore, you give in, your body shattering around him, your fingers gripping at the door for dear life.
But he doesn’t stop.
He keeps fucking you, pulling you back into him with an intensity that makes everything burn.
You hear him curse under his breath, and with a final, powerful thrust, he follows, his body jerking against yours as he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go, afraid to lose the one thing that’s finally his.
The two of you are left panting, sweating, your bodies still locked together.
And as he pulls away slightly, his hands find your hips again, guiding you back toward the door.
Neither of you says a word. Not yet.
The silence between you is heavy. Too heavy.
But Chan doesn’t look at you with the same anger anymore. There’s something darker in his eyes, something that hasn’t quite settled yet.
And you know.
This isn’t over.
Chan’s hands are back on you before you can even catch your breath. He grabs your arm, tugging you towards the bed with a force that makes your heart race. He’s silent, but the anger in his eyes is louder than any words he could say. There’s no softness in the way he touches you, no tenderness, just an urgency that makes everything else disappear.
He doesn’t give you a moment to think before he’s pushing you down onto the mattress, positioning you with a swift, almost harsh movement. The edge of the bed digs into your knees, and you don’t have the chance to protest before he’s behind you, his hands gripping your hips to steady you.
“You don’t get to act like this,” he growls, voice thick with frustration. There’s no hesitation, no slowing down, and it’s clear this is no longer about lust—it’s about something deeper, something darker, something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for way too long.
You feel the cool air against your skin as he presses against you, his body hard and unforgiving. His breath is hot on your neck as he speaks again, each word a harsh reminder of everything that’s been building.
“Thought you could just waltz in here and let him put his hands on you,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Thought you could just—”
Before he can finish the thought, he thrusts into you, a sharp, punishing movement that makes your body stiffen in response. The pain is quick, the intensity raw, and there’s no gentleness in his touch—this is his punishment. For everything.
His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and the way he moves is rough—demanding, punishing, as if he’s trying to carve the frustration out of him.
You can’t breathe properly, every thrust pushing you further down, the bed creaking beneath you, but it’s almost impossible to focus on anything other than the overwhelming force with which he’s taking you.
“This is what happens when you act like a slut,” he growls, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”
You want to answer, want to push back, but your words get caught in your throat as he pulls you back to him again. You’re lost in this—lost in the anger, the tension, the sheer intensity of what he’s doing.
His grip on you doesn’t loosen. It tightens with every movement, as if he’s afraid to let you go. His body presses against yours, his breath ragged in your ear, his voice demanding, possessive.
“You don’t walk away from me,” he spits, the words almost a command, a declaration of his need, his desire, his control.
The rawness of the moment, the way he’s fucking you in such a frantic, desperate way, makes everything inside you twist, your body responding to his anger, to the heat, to the frustration.
And when he finally speaks again, his voice lower this time, softer almost, it feels like the weight of the moment hits you. “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”
As the tension between you both builds, Chan’s movements become more frantic, more desperate. The anger, the frustration, the unspoken emotions—everything is tangled together in this moment. And as his body presses into yours with a final, powerful thrust, a gasp escapes your lips. His name slips out in a breathless moan, and everything inside you breaks, the pressure, the need, the raw energy finally unraveling.
He follows right behind you, his body tense and straining as he shudders, pushing himself deeper with one last, heavy motion. His hands dig into your sides, holding you in place as he rides out the last waves of his release, his breath harsh in your ear. The world seems to slow down as you both find your rhythm, as the energy between you finally begins to settle.
Chan, still pressed against your back, stays there for a moment, both of you still tangled together, unable to move just yet. His fingers slowly loosen their grip on your waist, but he doesn’t let go. The weight of his body on yours is comforting, almost possessive, and his breath fans over your ear.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice rough and low, like he’s barely holding it together. His lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of heat behind. “I fucking love fucking you.”
The words hang in the air, loaded with meaning, and the rawness of the moment lingers as the intensity of the night finally starts to settle.
He pulls away just enough to look at you, his gaze heavy, his chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. There’s something in his eyes—something possessive, something soft, but raw all at once. He’s still trying to piece together the storm that just passed between you both.
He doesn’t move right away. Neither of you does. And even though the anger has died down, the connection is undeniable now, clearer than ever.
As Chan pulls away, the silence between you both feels heavier than the storm of emotions that just ravaged the room. Your heart is still pounding, your skin flushed, but there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Everything is so intense, and yet there’s something lingering that feels like it should have been addressed—something more.
You push yourself up, your legs shaky as you sit on the edge of the bed, the cool air feeling sharp against your heated skin. The satisfaction from moments ago seems to slip away, replaced by something darker, something uncertain. You want to understand, but you can’t.
Your voice trembles, shaky with frustration, as the tears start to pool behind your eyes. You look at him, his gaze still soft but guarded, his chest rising and falling with every breath. But you can’t ignore the feeling creeping up inside you—the anger, the confusion, the hurt.
“That’s all?” You say, your voice tight. “You just love fucking me?”
The words taste bitter in your mouth, like they don’t even belong to you. You never thought you’d be the one asking these questions, and yet, here you are, lost in the aftermath of his raw need.
Chan’s silence stretches, his jaw clenching, eyes still on you, but it’s like he’s struggling to form an answer. He’s not the one caught in the mess this time—it’s you.
“I don’t fucking understand, Chan!” You stand up now, unable to stay still, your body trembling with frustration. “We do this over and over, but you don’t even talk about it. Don’t even acknowledge it.”
Your hands curl into fists at your sides. “What the fuck, baby?!” The words escape in a rush, the emotion finally pouring out of you. You’re not even sure if you’re angry or heartbroken, but your voice cracks as the tears finally spill over. “What are we doing? What do you want from me?”
You wipe your face, your hands shaking. “Am I just a fucking game to you, Chan? Is that it?” Your breath hitches. “Because I can’t— I can’t do this anymore if you don’t—”
That’s when he moves. Fast, like he can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. His hand reaches out, gripping your wrist to pull you towards him with a desperation you weren’t expecting. He’s on his knees in front of you now, his face inches from yours. His voice is low, strained, a mix of frustration and something softer, something deeper.
“No,” he breathes out. His eyes lock onto yours, and there’s an intensity in them that makes your heart stop. “No.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing heavily. “It’s not like that.” His voice cracks with the weight of the words he’s finally letting slip.
“I don’t fucking know how to say this,” he admits, his hands shaking slightly as they rest on your waist. His thumb brushes against your skin, almost like he’s grounding himself. “But this… this isn’t just about sex. It never was. I—”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softer now, full of that raw vulnerability that he’s rarely shown. “I care about you, Y/N.”
You feel your chest tighten at the confession, the weight of it crashing into you. It’s almost too much to process, too sudden. You’re a mess, your tears still fresh on your cheeks, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now that’s different. Something that finally feels real.
“I can’t just fuck you and let you walk away,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mean something to me. You’ve always meant something.”
Your heart flutters, but you’re still confused. “Then why the hell do you keep doing this? Why push me away?”
Chan’s expression softens even more, and his hands come up to cup your face gently, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “Because I’m scared, okay?” He finally admits, his voice shaky. “I don’t know what to do with this. With us.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. It’s thick, but there’s a vulnerability there that wasn’t before. You’re both breathing heavily, still trying to understand what just happened, what you’ve just confessed to each other.
“I’ve never been good at this… at feeling things, Y/N.” His voice is almost apologetic. “But I can’t lie anymore. I want you. I want more than just the fucking. But I don’t know how to make you understand that.”
You stay quiet, letting his words sink in. You’re still processing everything, but it’s clear that the anger between you is shifting into something else. Something that feels real.
“So, what now?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, your heart still racing but lighter now, finally beginning to understand the rawness of it all.
Chan takes a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping your face as his eyes trace over every detail of your expression. He can see the vulnerability, the confusion, and the hope all mixed together in your gaze. He knows this moment—this conversation—is the turning point, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t screw it up.
He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lowering his lips to your jaw, placing gentle, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there. His hands slip around your waist, guiding you back onto the bed with careful, deliberate movements. His body hovers above yours, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him, but not pressing—just enough to keep the connection. His gaze is soft now, steady, as he speaks again, voice lower, softer than before.
“Now,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your neck as he speaks, “now you let me take you out on a proper date.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his hands trail down to your hips, gently caressing the curves of your body. “I’ll buy you flowers,” he continues, his words a whisper against your skin, “take you to a nice place to eat… and we’ll see from there.”
You close your eyes for a moment, the tenderness of his words colliding with the warmth of his touch. It’s so different from the rawness of before—so much gentler, more vulnerable. And something about it makes you give in, your body relaxing beneath his touch, your fingers curling into the sheets.
“I never thought I’d hear that from you,” you say with a soft laugh, a playful edge creeping into your voice despite the emotion you still feel in the pit of your stomach. “A date… flowers? You sure you’re not just saying that to get in my good graces?”
His lips pull into a smirk as he pulls away slightly to look at you, his gaze filled with amusement. He leans in again, kissing your neck softly before brushing his lips against your ear. “Trust me, I’m not that smooth,” he says, his voice teasing, yet sincere. His hands move back up your body, gently running along your arms, the touch almost too tender compared to the previous moments. “I’m just trying to make this right.”
You feel your heart flutter again, his affection suddenly making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. Chan isn’t just saying these things—he’s showing you, in the way he holds you, in the way his touch is no longer rough but soft, deliberate. His hands caress your arms and shoulders, a gentle reminder that the anger has melted away, replaced by something deeper. You meet his eyes again, allowing yourself to fall into this moment with him.
“You always know how to make me feel conflicted,” you say, your lips curling into a smile despite yourself. You run your fingers through his hair, just to feel him a little closer, to keep this connection.
He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “I’m full of surprises,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. His lips trail down to your collarbone, his hands now resting lightly on your waist as if holding you in place, not to restrain you but to keep you with him. “But seriously, Y/N… I don’t want to keep pretending like this is just a thing that happens. You deserve more. And I want to give you more.”
His words strike you deeper than you expect, and you let out a small breath, the weight of everything sinking in. The sincerity in his voice, in his touch—it’s enough to make your chest tighten with a mix of emotions.
“Then show me,” you whisper, meeting his gaze again. “Show me you mean it.”
He nods, his hand gently brushing the side of your face as he moves even closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, not desperate or angry, but slow, tender. It’s a kiss that feels like an unspoken promise, something more than just the heat between you. It feels like the beginning of something new, something real.
He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you still tangled together in the quiet aftermath of everything. “I’ll take you anywhere you want, Y/N. Just say the word,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “I’m not going anywhere.”
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