#but it's fine because i just wanted to finish this so i can move on to my angst era | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fic-girlie · 2 days ago

Text

All that I see

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader Summary: Insecure about your body, you pull away — but Pedro’s love helps you see yourself through his eyes. With his support, you learn to embrace who you are. Warnings: body image issues, insecurity, angst, soft Pedro, explicit smut (+18), unprotected sex, p in v sex, aftercare, supportive Pedro A/N: It was made by another request from @kellyxo1, so thank you!

The laughter in the next room makes you flinch.

It starts as a light trill—carefree and bright—and then it sharpens, cutting through the air like fine glass. Feminine voices layer over each other, weaving between flirtatious teasing and the gentle clinking of crystal glasses. The soft thud of a heel on hardwood. Another giggle.

Someone’s perfume trails into the hallway like smoke—musky jasmine with a vanilla finish—and even though you can’t see her, you know who it is. She had kissed Pedro on the cheek when she arrived, lingered a little too long near his side, and you’d watched from the corner of your eye while pretending to tidy the drinks tray.

You shift your weight against the kitchen counter, your arms crossed, hands tucked deep into the cuffs of Pedro’s oversized hoodie. The fabric is worn and warm and still faintly smells like him—cedar and something leather-soft, familiar. You burrow into it, pulling it tighter around you like it could protect you from the way you feel.

You tell yourself not to look toward the doorway again. But you do.

From this sliver of an angle, you can see the edge of the living room. Just the corner of the couch, the pale spill of light from the chandelier, and one perfectly manicured hand resting casually on Pedro’s forearm. Her laugh cuts across the room again.

You stare down at the floor.

The insecurity doesn’t slam into you—it creeps. A slow, quiet thing, like water seeping under a closed door.

You know you’re beautiful. That should be enough. You're a working model, after all. Booked and praised. But it never feels like enough, not really—not when the lingerie jobs come in and you say no before you even read the offer. Not when you remember the fitting for that swimwear campaign and how you stared at your reflection too long, wondering if they’d notice your chest wasn’t quite full enough to hold the cut of the top.

They didn’t say anything. But you could see it. The slight shift in the stylist’s face, the way she made a note in her phone. It stuck with you.

You walk slowly to the sink, pick up a clean glass, and rinse it as if it needs something. Anything to do with your hands. Water rushes over your fingers, warm and steady, and you stare through it, your jaw tight. You think of their voices again—co-stars, stunning women who move like they don’t question the space they take up.

You remember what one of them whispered last week, when she thought you were out of earshot.

“She’s got a pretty face, but she’s more… artsy model than sexy. Kind of flat, don’t you think?”

The words had rolled over you like a soft wave with a hidden undertow.

You never said anything. Not even to Pedro. Especially not to Pedro.

Because what if they were right? What if you were the exception in his world, the woman who was nice and kind and cool enough to be with—but not the kind who turned heads in the same way. Not the kind who made people say of course he’s with her.

You feel it every time someone looks at the two of you. A pause. A question. Her?

You set the glass down, a little too carefully.

And then you hear it—his voice. Pedro. Deeper, grounded, threaded through with something warm and soft that always seems to pull you out of yourself.

“Hermosa?” he calls out, just loud enough to reach the kitchen, but not loud enough to be heard over the music. “You okay?”

There’s a beat. You hesitate.

You want to say yes. You want to walk in there with your head high, to sit next to him and pretend none of this gets to you. But the words catch in your throat, like a pebble lodged there.

Instead, you dry your hands slowly and glance toward the mirror that hangs on the far wall. You study your reflection with a clinical eye—your lips, the outline of your chest under the hoodie.

You look like someone trying to disappear into fabric.

The hoodie makes your shoulders look small, your frame even narrower than it is. You used to like that. Now you’re not sure.

You walk into the living room anyway.

Your smile is practiced, soft at the corners, the kind you’ve worn to castings and red carpets. It never quite reaches your eyes.

Pedro’s standing near the fireplace, drink in hand. His sleeves are pushed up slightly, revealing the curve of his forearms, and his hair curls just a little at the nape—still slightly damp from his earlier shower. His laugh rumbles in his chest at something one of the women says, but his head turns the moment he sees you.

And he always sees you.

He hasn’t done anything wrong.

Pedro never makes you feel less. Not once. Not in private. Not in bed. Not when he cups your cheek like he’s memorizing every inch of you or runs his hands over your body like worship.

Not when he whispers hermosa into your skin like a prayer. Not when he looks at you like you’re the sun.

But the truth is, sometimes his light makes your shadows sharper.

It’s not him.

It’s everything around him.

The world that eyes you sideways, that asks, “What does she do?” even after knowing you’re a model. The world that puts you side-by-side with his co-stars and makes you feel like you have to justify why he chose you.

His gaze lands on you like an anchor. It softens instantly—eyes creasing, mouth tipping into the kind of smile that’s only ever meant for you.

But the woman next to him doesn’t miss it.

Neither do the others.

You see it in the way their gazes follow his and then flick to you. There’s a subtle shift in the air, like heat in a room you didn’t notice until someone closed the door. One of them raises a brow. Another glances at your hoodie, then at your legs, then smirks to herself before sipping her wine.

They say nothing. But it echoes louder than words.

Your stomach tightens.

Pedro lifts his arm as if to welcome you in—to touch you, hold you close, tuck you under his side like he always does. And God, you want that. But right now, every cell in your body is coiled tight with the fear of being seen, really seen.

“I just need to check something real quick,” you say quickly, voice light, feigned ease. “Left my phone charging.”

Pedro’s face flickers with something—confusion? Worry? But he doesn’t push. He just nods, slow, eyes following you as you back toward the hallway.

You slip into the bedroom and close the door behind you.

The sound is soft. Final.

You lean back against it, hoodie still tight around you, and let your head fall back with a quiet, shuddering breath.

You hate this. The way the noise from the party fades through the walls while the noise in your head gets louder. The way even Pedro’s kindness—his devotion—can’t always silence the doubt rooted deep inside you.

You tell yourself this is just a bad night.

But in your chest, it feels like the truth.

——

You were quiet again.

It had been a few weeks since the night you avoided Pedro’s touch. Since the moment his lips had hovered just beneath your ribs and you’d gently, insistently, tugged his curls and whispered, Not tonight. He hadn’t pushed. He never did. But something had changed.

Not in him. Not outwardly, at least. He was still his tender, attentive self—always checking in, brushing your hair from your eyes, calling you mi amor in that low, molten voice like it belonged only to you. Still warm in the kitchen over morning coffee, still eager to wrap you in an oversized hoodie when you’d come in from errands, still smiling at you with that softened, starstruck expression when he thought you weren’t looking. But it was there, in the way his eyes followed you longer, slower, searching. Watching you retreat inside yourself like you were folding, quietly, into a smaller shape.

And you had been. Retreating, bit by bit. Skimming past mirrors faster. Turning away when Pedro would come up behind you with his arms loose and affectionate around your middle, trying not to flinch when he pressed kisses into the curve of your neck. You still loved him—God, more than anything—but something deep inside you kept pulling taut like a wire drawn too tight. A coil of shame, anxiety, and self-doubt wound into your very core.

You weren’t sure when it started.

Maybe it was the comments under a photo—one of those soft candid shots he posted of you two in the kitchen, your head resting on his shoulder as he cooked. You in a t-shirt, his hand on your hip. You remembered it so clearly—how safe you’d felt in that moment, how natural.

But the comments were ruthless.

Doesn’t look like his type. She’s cute, but she looks like a teenager. No curves? Odd choice for Pedro. Flat as a board. Is she twelve?

That one gutted you.

It wasn’t the first time either. Whispers on set when you visited him. The glance a co-star had given you before turning to another with a smirk. They didn’t hide it, not really. She’s sweet, one had murmured too loudly, but she doesn’t have the kind of body I’d model with. Another, even more brazen, laughed and said, Pedro always did have a thing for the shy ones, huh?

You hated that it got to you. You hated how much it sunk in.

Because you were a model. Technically. You’d done editorial spreads, art-house fashion campaigns, brands that prized mood and face and presence—but never lingerie. Never anything that showed too much skin. Not because you were modest, not really. But because you were afraid. Afraid of being compared. Afraid of the world confirming what you already suspected.

That you weren’t enough.

So you pulled away. You turned down two new campaigns that featured sheer or open fabrics. You didn’t tell Pedro. You just said you were being picky. And you grew quieter. Shrinking from his praise. Laughing a little less. Avoiding his gaze when he told you you were beautiful.

You didn’t notice him watching you now, across the living room, until you heard his voice—low and careful.

"You gonna tell me what’s going on, sweetheart?"

You blinked, startled out of your thoughts. You were curled up on the far end of the couch, blanket over your knees, your phone in your hands though you weren’t looking at it. Pedro sat on the other side, body turned toward you, brows drawn tight with concern.

You swallowed. Forced a smile. "What do you mean?"

He let out a slow breath. Not irritated—never that—but aching, almost. His voice softened.

"I mean... you’ve barely said more than a sentence at a time the last few days. You won’t let me touch you like I used to. And I know something’s wrong—I just don’t know what."

You looked down at your lap. Your fingers twisted the blanket.

"I’m just tired," you mumbled.

Pedro shifted closer, his hand coming to rest on the couch between you, not quite touching you yet.

"You’re allowed to be tired. But this is different. This is... something else. You’ve been carrying it like a weight."

You blinked hard. Your throat burned.

He was so good. So patient. And you hated this. Hated feeling like some broken thing in the presence of someone so endlessly whole.

"I just—" Your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I don’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid."

His brow furrowed deeper, but he didn’t push. Instead, he spoke even quieter.

"It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you."

You bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted copper. Your hands were trembling now beneath the blanket.

He saw it. And that was what finally made you speak.

"It’s about my body," you whispered. "About me."

Pedro was still. Listening.

You inhaled sharply, voice falling out in pieces. "People say things. About me. About how I look. How I’m not... enough. Not the kind of woman they expect you to be with."

You couldn’t look at him.

"They say I’m flat. That I look like a girl, not a woman. That I don’t deserve someone like you. And I know I shouldn’t care, but it’s everywhere. And your co-stars—they look at me like they agree. Some even say it out loud. And I—"

Your voice cracked. You laughed bitterly. "I didn’t even want to model anymore. I turned down jobs because I didn’t want to see myself in something that would prove them right."

You paused. The silence between you was full.

Then, barely above a breath: "I didn’t want you to see me, either. Not like that.”

A quiet exhale from him. Something deep and shaking.

Then he moved.

Not to touch you. Not yet. First, he knelt in front of you on the floor, his hands resting on the edge of the couch, eyes level with yours. Dark and warm and glassy.

"Look at me, cariño."

You didn’t want to. But you did.

His voice was low. Steady. Like a lifeline.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And not just in some abstract, I-love-you-so-I-say-it way. I mean it. Every single part of you—your eyes, your mouth, the curve of your waist, the line of your collarbone, your chest. All of you. I’ve memorized you. And I never once looked at you and thought you weren’t enough."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he kept going.

"The people saying that shit? They don’t know you. They don’t get to have opinions about what makes you desirable, what makes you a woman. You’re not just enough, you’re everything I want. Everything I crave. And it kills me to know that you’ve been hurting like this and felt like you had to hide it from me."

He reached for your hand now, slow and gentle.

"You never have to hide from me, baby. Not ever."

You broke. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way—but soft and quiet and real. Your eyes welled, breath hitched, and you leaned forward like your bones couldn’t hold you anymore. Pedro caught you. Pulled you into his arms with so much care it nearly shattered you. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other circling your waist, fingers splaying across your back like he could shield you from every word, every gaze, every inch of self-doubt you’d ever held inside.

You buried your face in his neck. Let the tears come.

And he held you.

He held you until you calmed, until your breathing slowed, until your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. He pressed kiss after kiss to your temple, your cheek, your hairline.

"I’ve got you. I’ve always got you."

And when you finally pulled back to look at him, there was something in your eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks—trust, clarity, a kind of hesitant hope.

You didn’t say anything.

But you kissed him.

Softly at first, like you needed to remember how. Then again, slower, deeper, your hands cupping his jaw as his breath caught against your mouth.

And you knew, just from the way he kissed you back—steady, reverent, aching with love—that he meant every word.

And maybe, just maybe, you could start to believe it too.

——

The soft glow from the bedside lamp bathes the room in a warm, golden light, the shadows dancing gently on the walls as Pedro’s hands never cease their worshipful exploration of your skin. Every inch of you, from your collarbone to the curve of your waist, he treats like sacred ground, as if your body is the most precious thing he’s ever touched. The slow, rhythmic motion of his thumbs on your breasts sends tiny electric jolts of heat through your core, and you find yourself melting into him, the earlier insecurities dissolving like mist.

Your breath hitches when his mouth trails down from your jawline to your neck, his teeth nibbling just enough to make you shiver without pain. He pauses, lips brushing a tender kiss along the hollow of your throat before his hands travel lower.

You let your eyes flutter closed, your body arching instinctively toward his touch as Pedro’s fingertips brush along the lace of your underwear. Slowly, deliberately, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, the contrast between the cool lace and his warm skin sending a shiver through you.

Pedro’s voice is a low murmur against your skin, “You don’t have to be afraid here. I want to know every part of you.” The tenderness in his tone wraps around you like a soft blanket, soothing the last flickers of doubt.

When he finally slides your panties down, it feels like an act of trust—sacred, slow, and full of reverence. His eyes never leave yours, searching for any sign that you want to stop, that you want more, or that you simply want to be held. Instead, you reach up to cradle his face, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him close for a deep, soul-stirring kiss that speaks of promises and belonging.

Pedro’s body aligns with yours as he slides between your thighs, his warmth pressing against your bare skin, filling you completely. You gasp softly at the sensation, a delicious mixture of fullness and closeness. His hands cradle your hips, holding you steady as he begins to move—slow, deep, and measured.

Each thrust is a whisper, a conversation between your bodies, a dance choreographed by trust and desire. You feel the heat of him with every movement, the pulse of his heartbeat syncing with yours beneath the soft sheets. His lips trail back to yours, the kiss deepening as your hands explore the strength in his shoulders, the muscles taut beneath his skin.

Pedro’s breath fans warm against your cheek as he murmurs, “You’re mine. So beautiful, so perfect. I love every part of you.”

Your fingers clutch at his back, your body trembling with waves of pleasure that build gradually, each crest higher than the last. His hands slide up your sides, fingers pressing into the softness of your skin as he holds you close, grounding you in the moment.

When he shifts, adjusting his angle to hit you deeper, your breath catches in your throat, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Pedro responds with a growl of pleasure, his hips moving with steady, patient rhythm—never rushed, never rough—always tender and deliberate.

You feel utterly seen, utterly loved, every fear and insecurity melting away beneath the heat of his gaze and the softness of his touch. Your body moves with his, slow and fluid, an intimate melody of skin on skin, heartbeats echoing in the quiet room.

Pedro’s hands find your breasts, his thumbs brushing your nipples gently, coaxing them to harden beneath his touch. The sensation sends sparks of heat trailing down your spine, your body arching toward him as he leans down to kiss along your collarbone, your shoulder, your neck.

Your lips part, breath hitching as he deepens the connection between you, his mouth worshipping your skin with an almost sacred devotion.

When the waves of pleasure finally crest, it’s like the world falls away—just you and Pedro, bodies entwined, hearts pounding, the soft glow of the lamp witnessing your love in its purest, most vulnerable form.

He stays with you, arms wrapped tightly around your trembling body, his breath slow and steady against your ear as you both come down from the intensity of the moment. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, grounding you, holding you safe.

“I love you,” he whispers again, voice thick with emotion. “All of you.”

And this time, you believe it—not just the words, but every touch, every look, every breath you share.

——

The weeks after that night on the couch and in the bedroom unfold gently, like a quiet dawn breaking after a long, restless night. Pedro’s words echo in your heart every day — I love every part of you. It’s a promise, a truth, and slowly, it begins to dissolve the walls you’ve built around your insecurities.

You find yourself noticing the small changes first. How you catch your reflection in the mirror and don’t immediately flinch. How you stand a little taller when you enter a room, your shoulders easing away from the weight of self-doubt. The old fears that clung to you — about your chest, your body, the whispers from others — they don’t disappear overnight, but they lose their sharp edges.

One afternoon, you’re back at the studio for a new photoshoot. The folder with the campaign’s styling details sits on the table before you. It’s a lingerie campaign — something you would have turned down without a second thought a month ago. But now, looking at the delicate lace and satin pieces, the bold yet elegant designs, you feel a strange flutter of excitement instead of dread.

Your fingers trace the images in the folder, and you take a deep breath. The thought of stepping in front of the camera wearing these pieces no longer feels like exposing your flaws. It feels like reclaiming your power.

That evening, Pedro’s waiting for you when you get home, his eyes lighting up the moment you walk through the door. He pulls you into a warm hug, his hands steady and sure on your back.

“How was the shoot?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You smile, your heart swelling with a new confidence. “It felt… good. Different. I’m thinking about saying yes to the campaign.”

Pedro’s grin is slow and proud. “That’s amazing. You should always say yes to what feels right for you.”

You settle beside him on the couch later, your fingers intertwining. “You know, I was scared. Scared of what people would say or think. But after everything — what you said, what we shared — I don’t want to hide anymore.”

He cups your face gently, thumb tracing your cheek. “You don’t have to hide from me. Or anyone. You’re perfect as you are.”

The night stretches on with soft kisses and whispered promises, but this time, your body moves with ease, with joy, not with hesitation.

——

In the following weeks, the campaign begins. The fittings, the shoots — each moment feels like a small victory. You wear the lingerie not as armour but as celebration. The camera catches your natural curves, the confidence radiating from within. Your smile comes easily, no longer forced or shy.

When you scroll through social media, you see comments under the campaign’s posts — some kind, some less so. But they don’t reach you. You’ve learned to sift through the noise, to hold tight to the truth of who you are. Pedro’s presence is your anchor.

One evening, after a long day, you and Pedro lie together on the balcony, the city lights flickering below like stars brought down to earth. He pulls you close, his voice soft in the night air.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Stronger. Braver. More beautiful than ever.”

You rest your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For believing in me when I couldn’t.”

Pedro’s hand strokes your hair, warm and gentle. “I always will. No matter what.”

In that moment, you realize the journey wasn’t just about your body or the opinions of others. It was about learning to love yourself — fully, fiercely, and without apology.

And with Pedro by your side, you know you never have to doubt your worth again.

#pedro pascal #pedropascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

112 notes · View notes

msmk11 · 2 days ago

Note

🍾 yelena and 33 please?

33: “I thought I lost you.”

Thanks for the shot! I haven’t written for Yelena in forever and it reminded me that 1) I’m obsessed with her and 2) I desperately need to see Thunderbolts.

Check out the rest of my party here!

Staring Problem

Yelena Belova x gn!reader

WC: 1.4k

CW: explosions, blood, broken bones, brush with death, guns, violence; angst, hurt/comfort, fluff ending

Summary: you think your staring almost gets your girlfriend killed

“You are not paying attention,” Yelena huffs, her hazel eyes never leaving the target across the street.

“Hmmm?”

“Pay attention!” She insists, elbowing you in the ribs hard enough to finally wake you from your stupor.

“Shit! What was that for?” You protest, rubbing your side. You shift your feet to ease the aching pain in your back from crouching behind a wall for the past half hour.

“You are staring at me instead of staying focused on the mission.”

You should be embarrassed about being caught, but you’re not. Yelena- your girlfriend of one year- is quite literally the prettiest person on planet earth, in your own humble opinion. You can’t help but be distracted by the firm set of her jaw when she focuses, how you wish you could trace your lips across the line. And the way stray tendrils of blonde hair frame her face as they’ve fallen out of her intricate braids throughout the day. You’d like to tuck them back behind her ear, and usually she’d let you, but not now, not during a mission.

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to look at my girlfriend now?” You pout teasingly, even jutting out your lower lip for extra effect.

Yelena’s eyes trail to you momentarily and you swear she blushes a little, “do not give me that look. You know I cannot resist it and you know we need to be focused right now.”

“Fine, fine,” you whine, “but at least let me-“

You reach out to fix her strand of hair and that’s when the explosion goes off. Suddenly, you’re flying through the air, away from Yelena, landing on your back on the hard concrete rooftop. Your ears ring and any shouts or screams are muffled. Through the smoke you can barely see nor breathe and you curl onto your side, coughing and gasping for air. You try to stumble to your feet in your daze and you nearly topple back down.

Though you know you should be looking for the perpetrator, your mind only thinks of Yelena, your thoughts racing about whether she’s okay. If she’s hurt. If she’s alive. You wander through the debris, screaming her name- at least you think you are, since you still can’t really hear.

You spot her foot first, black boot sticking out of a pile of smoking rubble. You run towards her and shove the concrete away. Your heart pounds in your chest and a sob escapes your throat. She looks bad. Her face is bloody and bruised and her eyes are closed. You’re worried she’s dead, and when you put your fingers to her neck you don’t find a pulse. Panic surges through your stomach and you think you’re gonna be sick. But then you feel it, the faintest pulse. A sign that she’s still alive, even if barely.

You cup her face, calling her name over and over, tears running down your dirty cheeks. She stirs just a little and you freeze, eyes studying her hopefully. Her hazel eyes barely peek out from beneath her lids and she taps your finger. Her lips move and you frown, moving closer. You still can’t hear what she says because of her hoarseness and your deafness, but you read what her lips say:

“Go after him.”

It’s the last thing you want to do, and every instinct in you resists, as well as your body that is screaming in pain. But you know she’s right. You have a job to do, and Yelena will kill you if you don’t finish it. You stagger up, taking the gun holstered to her hip and charge towards the now obliterated wall. You spot the target just seconds before he spots you and you jump, scaling down the wall quickly as you set off on a foot chase after the son of a bitch.

He’s fast, especially in your bloody and bruised state, but adrenaline keeps you going. He weaves through the crowd of screaming people and you follow hot on his tail, shoving anything and anyone out of the way. In a small clearing you pull the gun, feet pounding the pavement as you pull the trigger. It hits him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling forward. You don’t give the bastard a chance to get up before you grab him by the scruff of his collar and flip him over, clocking him in the jaw, once, twice, three times.

He grunts in pain with each blow, but he still manages to grab your ankle and tug you down with him. Your gun scatters across the cobblestone street and you try to reach for it, but he yanks you away, flipping you onto your back. The blow hurts, especially when you realize some of your ribs are most definitely already broken. The target lands a blow to your stomach and you cry out in pain. He gets in another blow before you catch his arm on the third try and twist, right where the bullet hole in his shoulder sits. He yelps and that gives you the advantage to flip him back over. You scramble up and grab the gun, taking him out with one final bang.

After you’d killed the target, you’d made your way back to Yelena, who was already being transported on a stretcher to the ambulance. You’d tried to get close but they held you back, insisting they needed to assess you while they rushed her off to emergency care. The exhaustion and pain eventually forced you to give in as you were also whisked off to the hospital.

Many hours and bandages later, you’d finally been allowed to see Yelena who was still in rough condition, but alive. She was hooked up to a million monitors and machines, her face covered in cuts and bruises as she breathed somewhat normally. You’ve taken residence in an uncomfortable chair beside her bed, one thumb pushed between your teeth and the other stroking soothing circles over your girlfriend’s scarred hand. Even in her broken state, she’s still the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

Nothing could change that.

You’re so focused on her closed eyes that you don’t notice the twitch of her lips into a half smirk.

“You are staring again,” she croaks, her voice unmistakable even if hoarse.

Your heart pounds in your chest as her eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a sparkle in the hazel pools despite her critical state.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you and you brush your lips over her knuckles, “am I not allowed to stare at and worry over my very injured girlfriend?”

Yelena scoffs softly, eyes twinkling with mischief, “very injured? Please, these are just a few cuts and bruises. You should see the other guy.”

She pauses, her tone a little more somber, “you killed him, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

The blonde relaxes, “good.”

You kiss her palm this time and your lips linger there thoughtfully.

“I thought I lost you,” you mumble into her skin.

“What?”

“Today, after the explosion. I thought I lost you.” Your voice trembles, “and it would’ve been my fault. I- I was distracting you and-“

“Moya lyubov (my love)…Look at me.”

You refuse to meet her eyes and she huffs, “you always have a looking problem until I need you to look at me. Come on, show me those pretty eyes.”

Finally, you reluctantly look up at her, the usual color glossed over with unshed tears, and Yelena’s face softens. This time she brings your hand to her lips.

“Moya lyubov, you really think a little bomb is going to keep me from you? You know I am stubborn. I am not going anywhere.”

She strokes your hand soothingly, “Also, it is not your fault. You could not have known there was a bomb.”

Your voice breaks, “but I distracted you and-“

“There is nothing you could have done,” she insists.

Your eyes scan hers for any hint of deceit or insincerity, but you find none. She nods to you, patting the bed beside her.

When you try to protest that you don’t want to hurt her, Yelena interrupts you again, “I am your injured girlfriend. You have to do what I say. And I say that you have to cuddle me.”

You huff, muttering something under your breath about her being stubborn as you gingerly sit beside her on the bed. Your girlfriend pulls you closer and cups your jaw, hazel eyes roaming over your face.

“Who has the staring problem now?” You tease, as you lean in and capture her lips.

100 notes · View notes

suskz · 2 days ago

Text

Hold me tight

pairing: Minchan (Lee Know x Bang Chan)

t/w: fluff ; a lot of fluff ; hurt/comfort ; soft Minho ; soft Bang Chan ; aftercare ; cuddling ; Chan needs cuddles ; Minho is a lil shit sometimes.

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: sorry for the late post. AGAIN 😭 Ily all <33 And I love this fic so much. Bc they’re just so soft and sweet and chan is so needy and Minho is so giving and and and!! I hope you love it too! Enjoy!

“Don’t you want cuddles?” Minho asks, watching him closely.

“I can’t, I have to run to the studio. I promised Changbin I’d be there by five,” Chan replies, quickly searching for his clothes around the room.

“Looking for these?” Minho smirks, holding up Chan’s underwear, dangling them from one finger. Chan snatches them and puts them on.

Minho’s gaze lingers on him, worried. Chan is always more vulnerable after intimacy—he usually needs cuddles and soft words. But this time, in the rush to get up right after they finished, Minho hasn’t given him any.

Chan does his best to fix his hair and face, then heads for the door with a hurried but sweet “I love you,” on his way to the recording studio to meet his friend —and coworker.

At first, everything goes smoothly and normally. Seungmin is in the booth, recording his part of a new song, while Chan and Changbin guide him.

But it doesn’t take long for the adrenaline that had kept him warm to fade. His fingers turn cold, his muscles relax too quickly. Suddenly, his clothes feel tighter and his body is shaken by slight shivers—like that time he went out with his boyfriend without a jacket, and Minho offered him his; only now, Minho isn’t here.

He looks up at Seungmin to focus on his singing, but a wave of emptiness and insecurity forces him to lower his gaze to the papers spread out on the table in front of him. His shoulders hunch in, as if trying to make himself smaller.

He remembers this feeling, but it’s been so long since he’s felt it.

When he and Minho finished earlier, Chan left too quickly. He should’ve stayed for cuddles and comfort, because he always needs it after sex, but he thought maybe this time he could tough it out. Turns out he was wrong—but by the time he realizes it, he’s already far from Minho.

He misses the way Minho always holds him tightly afterward, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. The way he strokes Chan’s bare skin under warm blankets, moving his hand in slow circles along his back, or gently running fingers through his hair. He wishes he could feel Minho’s lips right now, kissing his body, his face, and his lips. He wants to curl up in his arms and see that special smile Minho reserves just for him.

His body is still warm, but he feels cold. He wraps his arms around himself, but it doesn’t warm him or shake off the sadness creeping in.

“Hyung?” A voice calls, and he looks up to find Changbin watching him with an unreadable expression. “Are you okay?”

The urge to lie and say yeah, he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?—is strong. But so is the need for comfort. Chan decides to tell the truth.

“Not really.”

“You’re shaking? Why didn’t you say you were cold? There’s a blanket right there on the couch!” Changbin scolds, but in a gentle tone, as soon as he sees Chan trembling with his arms wrapped around himself. He grabs the blanket—it’s Jisung’s, green with polar bears printed on it—and wraps it around Chan. He places a hand on his forehead to check for fever. “Do you want to go home? I can handle things here until Jisung gets in.”

Chan quickly shakes his head. “No.”

There’s a lot of work to do, and he doesn’t want to leave them.

Before Changbin can reply, Chan asks, “What time is Minho coming?”

Changbin looks at him curiously, but doesn’t ask any questions. He checks the time. “In like, 30 minutes.”

“Okay, I’m ready,” Seungmin says, pulling their attention back to him.

Changbin starts guiding him again, and just then, Chan gets a message.

It’s from Minho.

Minho ❤️ Leaving the house soon. Do you need anything? You practically ran out earlier.

Chan opens the message right away, hesitating for a moment before typing. Maybe he’s being dramatic. Maybe he should just focus on work and stop thinking about it. But in the end, his fingers move faster than his thoughts.

Wolfie 🐺 Yeah… You

Minho ❤️ Me? You horny again? What we did earlier wasn’t enough?

Chan can practically hear Minho’s mischievous grin.

His fingers tremble as he types.

Wolfie 🐺 It’s not that. I need you to hold me. To hold me tight. Can you come early?

Minho ❤️ I’m on my way.

Ten minutes later, the door opens and Minho steps into the room, closing it behind him. His eyes go straight to Chan, watching as his features soften and a smile spreads across his face the moment he sees Minho.

“Minho? It’s not your turn yet—Seungmin’s still up,” Changbin says, checking his watch.

Minho waves him off with a quick, “I’m not here for that.” Then he walks over and gently brushes Chan’s hair with one hand. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Chan replies, clearly happy to finally have him there.

Minho crouches down to his level, their faces just inches apart. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, resting his free hand on Chan’s thigh and drawing slow, invisible circles there.

“Better, now that you’re here,” Chan murmurs with a wide smile that shows off his dimples. He looks so perfect and so sweet that Minho has to use every ounce of self-control not to scoop him up and carry him home right then and there.

“Hey lovebirds, hate to break the moment, but some of us are trying to work here,” Seungmin calls from the recording booth. They both turn to him. Chan’s cheeks flush as he presses a hand to his boyfriend’s chest, giving him a small, shy push—but Minho just stays close, unfazed.

He stays close, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Mind your business, Kim.” Then, turning to Changbin: “I’m stealing him for a bit,” he says, grabbing Chan’s hand and leading him to the studio couch.

Chan is caught off guard, glancing back at Changbin to make sure he’ll be okay without him for a while. Changbin nods with a small smile and turns back to Seungmin.

Meanwhile, Minho lies down on his side on the couch and motions for Chan to join him. Chan doesn’t need to be told twice—he rushes into Minho’s open arms, accidentally dropping the blanket to the floor in the process.

Minho holds him tight and plants a kiss on his hair.

“What happened?” he whispers so only they can hear, threading his fingers through Chan’s curls, brushing them from his forehead to the back of his head.

Chan lowers his gaze to Minho’s chest, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I missed you.”

“Yeah?” Minho grins. He places two fingers under Chan’s chin, gently lifting his face to look at him—and notices a cute pout on his lips. Minho huffs a quiet laugh through his nose and kisses the pout away.

But Chan wants more, and finds Minho’s lips again. They kiss softly, Chan’s hands gripping Minho’s shirt. Minho wraps one arm around him, the other cupping his cheek, thumb stroking gently along his cheekbone while they kiss.

When they part, Chan rests his head on Minho’s chest and closes his eyes. Minho traces soothing circles on his back and keeps him close.

“I thought I could go without it just this once,” Chan says, pulling back slightly. He doesn’t need to explain what he means—Minho understands.

“But when I got to the studio, I felt awful. I just wanted to be in your arms.”

“Why didn’t you call me right away?”

“I thought it would pass,” Chan pouts again.

“Hyung,” Minho scolds him softly. “Next time, just tell me, okay? I want to know when you need me so I can be there for you.”

It’s unusually sweet coming from Minho, and it earns him a big teasing smile from Chan. “You’re so sweet.” He pokes Minho’s cheek.

Minho shoots him a mock glare, then tries to bite his finger, making the older boy chuckle—and it melts Minho’s heart.

“You know, when you texted me, I really thought you were horny again.” Minho says a bit too loudly. Chan slaps his arm and turns toward the other two to make sure they didn’t hear.

He turns back to his boyfriend. “Don’t shout! They could have heard,” he whisper-yells, his face slightly flushed.

“I heard it,” Changbin informs them without turning around. “And we hear you every time you fuck anyway. You’re not as quiet as you think.”

Chan’s face flushes violently, his ears burning, and he hides his face on Minho’s shoulder, giving him a weak punch to the chest and clenching his shirt in his other fist.

Minho’s heart swells with tenderness at the sight, and he decides to be a little shit and make Chan even more embarrassed. “I always tell him to keep his voice down, though—”

“Min, stop!” Chan complains, his voice muffled by Minho’s shoulder as he hits him a little harder.

Chan is grateful the producers and staff left the room a little while ago, because he wouldn’t have handled the embarrassment and would have run off.

When Chan looks up again, Minho is smiling at him and gives him a little kiss on the nose.

Chan starts trembling slightly, and when Minho notices, he picks up the blanket from the floor and spreads it over both of them. He puts an arm under Chan’s head —because he knows how much he loves that— and starts gently stroking his hair.

His fingers move through Chan’s curls so soothingly that his eyes flutter shut. Their legs are tangled together, their bodies pressed close, and everything feels quieter—the others’ voices now just a background noise.

Chan is sleepy but doesn’t want to sleep. Still, he doesn’t open his eyes, not even when he hears the door open and Jisung’s voice greeting them. He feels Jisung’s eyes on him for a while, but he’s too tired to care.

“You two need to be glued to each other all the time, don’t you?” Jisung comments as he heads to his seat.

Changbin cuts in before Minho can answer. “Want to join them?” he says while jotting something down on a sheet.

“No thanks, I barely managed to get out of Felix’s arms to come here. Not that I’m complaining,” He adds with a grin. “I had to ask Hyunjin and Jeongin to cuddle him for me so I could get away.”

Minho turns his attention back to the boy in his arms and smiles fondly. He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose and leans in close to his ear, “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” he whispers in that voice reserved only for Chan.

Chan smiles sleepily and snuggles closer—if that’s even possible. And he falls asleep like that, safe in Minho’s embrace, wrapped in a peaceful stillness, and with Minho’s hands and lips gently caressing him.

You can also find it on my ao3! —> Hold me tight

#bang chan #lee know #bang chan fanfic #lee know fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan comfort #lee know fluff #lee know comfort #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee know #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids comfort #minchan

25 notes · View notes

kangshxrtie · 2 days ago

Text

DANCE4YOU | PARK SOHYUN

sypnosis — y/n is dared to give park sohyun a lap dance pairing — park sohyun x reader trope/genre — mutual pining, fluff, and slight smut includes — kim yooyeon, kim nakyoung, zhou xinyu, and koma mayu word count — 5077 words

you were in your dorm, half-dressed and halfway through your makeup, getting ready for a party you hadn't even wanted to go to. one of your roommates, kim yooyeon was sitting at her desk, applying some finishing touches to her makeup.

somehow, your other two roommates, zhou xinyu and koma mayu, had managed to convince yooyeon to go. you were only going because in a moment of false confidence, had said you'd only go if she did—because yooyeon wasn't the type to agree to these things.

except this time? you've never felt as betrayed as you did then when she looked you dead in the eyes and said, "fine. i'll go."

so here you were, curling your hair and rethinking all of your life choices that had led you to this moment.

"i still can't believe you said yes," you muttered, glancing at yooyeon through the mirror.

"i don't know. xinyu promised we wouldn't be there for long and i was also promised free food afterwards." yooyeon shrugged, lip gloss in hand.

"i wasn't promised free food," you stared at her.

"sounds personal," yooyeon shrugged.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "you know we're gonna end up staying longer then promised, right?"

"i give it three hours," she said, "max."

"sure," you smirked. "we'll be lucky if we're not crawling home at three in the morning."

across the hall, you heard mayu yell, "hurry up or we're pregaming without you!" followed by the pop of a can being opened.

"alright, let's go. before mayu and xinyu start making up drinking games again," yooyeon sighed dramatically, grabbing her jacket.

you stood up, checking and smoothing your outfit and giving yourself one last look in the mirror to make sure your makeup looked good. "i have a feeling this night is gonna be weird."

"of course it is. it's a sohyun party," yooyeon smirked, opening the door.

"sohyun?" you repeated, eyebrows raised.

"yeah," yooyeon nodded like it was no big deal.

you immediately turned on your heel. "yeah, i'm not going," you said, already stepping back into your room.

"oh my god—you already agreed and you're literally dressed up."

"and?" you shot back, "i can get un-ready and be in bed in five minutes."

"come on," yooyeon groaned, leaning against the doorframe. "we probably won't even see her."

"yooyeon. be so fucking for real right now," you gave her a flat look.

"okay—fine," she huffed. "but maybe it's time for you to confess to sohyun."

"me? confess? to sohyun?" you stared at her like she'd personally offended you.

"it's literally our last year. what do you have to lose?" yooyeon shrugged.

you sighed, flopping dramatically onto your bed. it wasn't like yooyeon didn't know the situation—sohyun had been your crush since freshman year. it was embarrassing, honestly. a slow burn kind of crush that never let up, no matter how hard you tried to outgrow it. the worst part about all of it was, she just kept getting hotter every year. like, unfairly so.

it wasn't like she didn't know you existed either. she did. you'd had classes together, been at the same parties, and shared mutual friends. you'd even talked and joked around before.

you were still lying on the bed, face down on the bed, silently considering how you were gonna get out of this now, when mayu stepped in.

"if you hate us and didn't wanna pregame you could've just said so!" xinyu yelled as she walked in holding a solo cup, "why are you still horizontal?"

"she found out it was sohyun's party," yooyeon explained, completely unbothered as she slightly moved out of the way of the doorframe so they could both get in.

"ohhh," mayu said, following in with a smug little grin. "we did forget to mention that little detail."

"of course you did," you mumbled into the pillow.

"don't be mad we just really wanted you to come with us tonight," mayu said, walking over and yanking the pillow out from under your face. "so you need to get up. you look too hot to stay in the house; we're not letting you sit in here all night thinking about someone who may or may not already have a thing for you."

"what if i just don't wanna" you sat up slowly, rubbing your temples.

"that is what pregame is for," xinyu said, tossing you a can from her mini bag. "mental preparation and alcohol."

"unless you wanna take shots instead," mayu offered cheerfully, already opening your fridge like she lived there. "i know you keep that little emergency stash of soju."

"i'd like to remind the room she agreed to go to," yooyeon raised her hand.

"that was before i was tricked," you muttered, cracking open the can anyway.

fifteen minutes and two drinks later, you were buzzed, warm, and starting to feel like maybe showing up wouldn't actually kill you.

"we should probably leave if we don't want to show up when people are already blacked out," mayu said after a while already heading out of the room.

you were now ready. well, not really but you were ready to fake it all. and now it would be a waste to just crawl back into bed and disappear for the night.

as you all walked out of your side of the dorm, yooyeon grabbed her bag and handed you your jacket. "you're gone be fine. worse case, you see sohyun, make weird eye contact, and never talk."

"best case," mayu grinned, holding the door open, "you kiss her and she falls madly in love with you."

"zero in-between," xinyu added, sipping her drink as you all filed into the hallway.

"cool. love that for me," you muttered.

still, as the four of you made your way to the party—the music could already be heard from half a block away—there was a weird twisting in your stomach. fear, excitement, and just the faintest hope that tonight's outcome will work in your favor.

and of course, the second you walk in, you see the one person who's been the main problem of your entire college experience.

park sohyun, just standing the middle of the room, drink in hand, looking so damn fine.

the music was loud, the lights were low, and the living room was packed wall-to-wall with people. the kind of packed where it was impossible not to brush shoulders or get accidentally posted on someone’s story. you could feel the music through the floor, drinks were being passed around, and the air smelled like sweat and perfume; great.

you stuck close to your friends, weaving through the crowd until you found a semi-cleared-out corner where you all could relax for a second. you were just about to tell xinyu to give you another drink when someone yelled over the music, “truth or dare!”

"we just got here," you froze slightly.

“oh no,” yooyeon muttered beside you. “it's starting.”

before you could even back out you were dragged by xinyu to where truth or dare was happening, a circle forming in the middle of the room. you caught glimpses of familiar faces filing in, people from your classes, campus regulars, a few you barely knew, and then you saw kim nakyoung which meant someone wasn't too far behind—your heart skipped a beat when you saw sohyun.

they both slid into the circle effortlessly, near your group considering the whole mutual friends thing.

you took that time to glance at the dark-haired girl; her drink was in one hand, the other resting casually on her knee, like she wasn’t currently destroying your ability to think straight.

“we can still leave.” you looked at yooyeon, eyes pleading.

“too late. we're already sitting down.” she said as she took a sip of her drink.

and she was right. you didn’t even remember doing it, but somehow (xinyu's fault), you were in the circle too.

of course the game started innocently. a few truth questions like—boring things like "what's your largest age gap" and "who was your last kiss" which could actually be pretty messy if you asked the right person.

some tame dares—chug a drink, post a story with no context, text your ex and stuff like that.

you mostly tried to keep your head down while also playing along when reactions were needed hoping it would help you slide under the radar. but you knew you were cooked when you made eye contact with nakyoung after her turn.

"okay y/n." nakyoung grinned at you, clearly about to either ask you to do something crazy or ask you something crazy, "truth or dare?"

"dare," you answered without hesitation.

nakyoung grinned even harder at your answer, "give sohyun a lap dance... or take five shots."

the room immediately exploded in screams at the dare.

"easy choice," you said barely even thinking it over.

before anybody could even process that, you were already making your way over to a very stunned park sohyun, who looked like she was reconsidering every decision that had led her to this moment.

someone dragged a chair into the middle of the room, practically sohyun into it before she could even protest. somebody else was already at the speaker to que up a song. the opening beat of a slow, sexy song with a baseline started thumping through the room.

sohyun sat frozen in the char, eyes wide as you straddled her lap, moving to the beat with confidence. her hands hovered awkwardly in the air, visibly struggling, because she clearly didn't know where to put her hands.

you grabbed her hands and placed them behind her chair.

"i—i'm not touching you," she muttered under her breath, jaw tight.

"that's good," you smirked, leaning in just enough to have your lips almost pressed up against her ear. "this is a look but don't touch type of dance."

the room was literally screaming now, and sohyun looked like she was about to melt into the floor.

you rolled your hips slowly to the rhythm, following the beat as you leaned back just enough to give everybody watching a show. sohyun's eyes were zeroed in on you, roaming around your body but not meeting your eyes.

her jaw clenched tighter when your hands ghosted down her shoulders and slid along her thighs, but not touching too much, just enough to make her visibility tense.

"y/n.." she hissed, voice barely audible over the music and noise.

"shhh, you don't have to talk," you murmured, tiling your head as you trailed your eyes down her face, "just focus on me."

her eyes finally locked with yours, which was clearly a mistake—because now you were both holding eye contact, and neither one of you looked away. the crowd didn't matter anymore. your only focus was on making sure you looked hot, the music, and sohyun.

you knew this was planned as a joke, but now it seemed like something more could come out of this.

you leaned in closer, lips brushing over her cheek as you whispered, "aren't you glad i chose dare?"

sohyun swallowed hard, but didn't say anything. yet, her silence said everything.

sohyun's breath hitched when your hand brushed her neck on the way down, and you felt her legs tense beneath as you slowly and deliberately shifted on her lap.

"you gonna tip me after this?" you teased, trailing your fingers lightly over her collarbone, before slowly dragging them back up.

"god, i hate you," she whispered, voice cracking from the lie.

"i bet you do right now," you smirked.

you let your hands slide into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back slightly—not too hard though.

she inhaled sharply, lips parting like she wanted to say something. she stared up at you, eyes dazed, but it seemed like she was trying to hide how affected she was by the whole situation.

"you're really pretty from this point of view," sohyun finally managed out, but her voice was shaky, her face flushed, and her thighs were definitely still tense under you.

"you can see more of it later," you whispered, barely holding back a grin, "if you can get us out of here."

and you didn't kiss her; you didn't have to.

because the second you pulled away, slow and smug and confident as hell, you knew you'd just won something neither of you had admitted was even a game.

you moved back over to where yooyeon was sitting, slipping back into your original spot and shooting her an innocent smile like you hadn’t just given park sohyun a lap dance in front of a full room.

yooyeon blinked at you, looking absolutely stunned. “not in my four years of living with you have i ever seen anything like that.”

“well, what did i have to lose? it’s our last year," you shrugged, repeating her earlier words right back at her with a smirk.

she stared at you like you’d grown a second head. “still—that was just crazy. have you always had those skills?”

“liquor courage. don't question it.”

the room finally started to settle again, everyone slowly returning to their spots, though the energy still buzzed. all eyes turned back to you, since it was your turn to ask the next truth or dare. you were absolutely thriving in the attention, especially with how nervous everyone suddenly looked. you took a small amount of pride in the fact that nobody was topping that performance anytime soon.

you glanced around, then locked eyes with nakyoung. you smirked. “nakyoung… truth or dare?”

“dare,” she shot back without hesitation, mirroring your smirk and clearly accepting whatever challenge you had coming for her.

you leaned forward, resting your chin in your hand, eyes glinting. “i dare you to blindfold yooyeon… and get guided by touch from the top of her body to the bottom.”

“what—?” yooyeon blinked confused on why she was catching strays.

“or take five shots,” you added sweetly, already scooting away from her spot.

“evil,” yooyeon muttered under her breath, glaring at you.

“all's fair in this game, roomie,” you grinned.

“immediately yes,” nakyoung said before yooyeon could even protest, standing up way too eagerly.

a chorus of gasps and laughter followed her as someone tossed her a black bandana from across the room—honestly, the fact that someone had that ready was more concerning than the dare itself.

yooyeon stared up at nakyoung with wide eyes, clearly trying to act nonchalant, but you could see the internal gay panic going into full meltdown mode. you leaned back, arms crossed, just to enjoy the show.

nakyoung didn’t hesitate. she moved behind yooyeon and gently tied the makeshift blindfold over her eyes, her hands brushing against yooyeon’s face for a little longer than necessary.

“okay,” nakyoung said, “guess i’ll start at the top.”

yooyeon flinched the second nakyoung's fingers touched her shoulders, and you swear you saw her toes curl. nakyoung’s hands were light, almost teasing as they skimmed over yooyeon’s arms, down to her fingertips. she paused there, letting her thumb brush along yooyeon’s palm.

“doing okay?” nakyoung asked, voice a little too soft.

“great,” yooyeon replied, though she sounded like she was about to pass out.

“she's not even touching you like that and you’re already sweating,” mayu snorted in the background.

“shut up,” yooyeon muttered, blindfolded and flustered beyond saving.

nakyoung moved again, fingertips ghosting across yooyeon's collarbones, down her sides, then slowly over her waist. yooyeon visibly tensed at that and tilted her head back slightly like she was trying to keep it together.

“just part of the dare,” nakyoung said innocently, but everyone in the room could hear the teasing in her tone.

your grin only widened. revenge was so, so sweet.

when nakyoung’s hands reached yooyeon’s hips, yooyeon let out a quiet noise, somewhere between a squeak and a breathy laugh. “okay! that’s enough. i’m taking the shots.”

the room burst into laughter and cheers as yooyeon ripped off the blindfold, face flushed all the way to her ears. nakyoung just raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning.

“didn’t even make it to the knees,” xinyu teased.

“i value my life,” yooyeon deadpanned, grabbing a shot glass.

“she lasted longer than i thought, honestly,” you leaned over with a smug smile.

“don't talk to me,” yooyeon said, downing the first shot.

“oh come on,” you teased. “you're welcome. that was practically a confession.”

nakyoung was still standing there, clearly proud of herself. she finally sat down next to yooyeon, watching with a smirk as your poor roommate knocked back the punishment shots one after the other. not once did she offer to help, just sat there, all smug and pleased while yooyeon slowly lost it next to her.

the room was loud, everyone practically screaming over the dare, cheering yooyeon on. amid the chaos, you barely noticed the presence beside you, until you felt a hand on your wrist.

you turned just as sohyun crouched beside you, eyes locked on yours. “let's go,” she said low enough that no one else could hear, her fingers gently tugging at your arm as she coaxed you to your feet. your heart was already thudding in your chest.

“you don’t think they’re gonna notice us disappearing?” you blinked.

she tilted her head slightly, lips twitching into a smirk. “oh, they’ll notice. do we give a fuck?” sohyun stood fully now, still holding your wrist.

you paused for half a second before shaking your head. “not even a little.”

with that, you let her guide you away, slipping out of the room without a single glance back.

she brought you to the nearest room she saw which just so happened to be a bathroom and as soon as you were in there you used your foot to nudge the bathroom door closed behind you. your eyes stay locked on sohyun’s, and without breaking the gaze, you reach back and fumble for the lock until you hear it click.

“hey,” she says with a smirk, voice low and teasing.

“hi,” you reply, biting your bottom lip.

there’s a beat of silence—long enough for your heart to start racing in your chest—before you finally speak.

“so… why'd you bring me to your.. bathroom?”

“definitely not to do what you’re thinking,” sohyun says, shaking her head with a playful grin.

you start turning around, already calling her bluff. “well, if that’s the case, i might as well leave.”

“wait,” she calls out, stepping toward you.

you pause, glancing back at her over your shoulder with a small smirk. “yes?”

“i did call you in here for that,” she admits.

“oh, then we should probably get down on our knees and start praying now,” you joke, eyes flicking down then back up at her.

“shut up,” sohyun laughs, slipping one arm around your waist and pulling you in.

“i’m kidding. but i wouldn’t mind getting down on my knees for something else,” you whisper, grinning as your hands find their way to her waist.

“well, i guess you could do that for me,” she chuckles, glancing around the small bathroom. “but we should probably change the location first.”

“why?” you ask, tilting your head. “you're the one who acted like this was our only option when this is your house?”

“i just wanted to get alone as soon as possible,” sohyun says, her grip tightening around your waist as she pulls you even closer.

“you already have me locked in here. you don’t need to keep using the cheesy lines,” you murmur, looping your arms around her neck.

“i just don’t want you to leave,” she says, voice quieter now. she leans in until her lips are barely an inch from yours.

“i'd never,” you whisper, your voice dropping, “now are you gonna show me the real reason you kidnapped me from the game?”

“is that a challenge?” she tilts her head slightly.

“take it how you want to.”

“challenge accepted,” she murmurs.

she closes the distance first, pushing you gently back against the bathroom door as her lips find yours. your hands slide down her sides, curling around the backs of her thighs, before dragging up to rest just under her arms. you tilt your head, angling perfectly to meet her mouth, and pull her impossibly closer.

sohyun’s grip tightens around your waist. her tongue grazes your bottom lip, asking for entrance—and you don’t give it to her which she notices.

and the next second, she’s tickling your sides, making you giggle into the kiss. she uses the opening to slip her tongue into your mouth, shutting you up immediately.

you raise one leg, hooking your knee up by her hip. her hand instinctively catches it, fingers trailing up and down the back of your thigh.

you lose track of how long you stand there like that, pressed up against her, kissing like the world doesn’t exist. it’s only when her lips start trailing down to your neck that you manage to find your voice again.

“i thought,” you breathe, trying and failing to sound unaffected, “we were gonna do it somewhere else.”

“we are,” she mumbles against your skin. “just getting started.”

“i wanna go now,” you say, your head gently thudding back against the door.

“what about my party?” she asks between kisses along your collarbone.

“fuck the party,” you mutter, eyes fluttering shut.

“my room?” she asks, her voice low, lips still brushing your skin.

“yes,” you say without hesitation. “now off, so we can go.”

she pulls back slightly, pout already forming on her lips. “just a few more minutes?”

you lean in again and kiss her—just once, soft and quick. “we can keep going once we’re there.”

and with that, you're unlocking the door again, ready to leave.

once you and sohyun made it to her room, thankfully unnoticed, she barely got the door shut and locked before she was on you.

sliding one of her hands up to cup your jaw, sohyun leans in and kisses you, slow and sensual, her mouth coaxing yours open as you shift onto your knees. the movement tilts her back and your body follows hers naturally, pushing her gently against the bedframe.

when she breaks the kiss and leans her head against the top of the bed frame, there’s a grin on her face that makes your stomach flip. you rise up and lift the hem of your dress, straddling her bare thighs, her oversized t-shirt riding up just enough that the heat of her skin settles perfectly against yours.

her hands settle on your hips, and you brace yourself by curling your fingers over the top of the bed frame just above her head, your breath catching as her thumbs inch your dress higher. “hmmmm, you want me to eat you y/n?” she murmurs, voice playful and low.

your eyes darken with want as she slides one hand under your dress, cupping you softly through your damp underwear. you can’t stop the small whimper that leaves your parted lips when the heel of her hand presses firmly, her middle finger curling just enough to remind both of you how soaked you are. when she repeats the motion, teasing the wet fabric against you, your hips twitch forward involuntarily. “already so wet?”

you spread your knees a little further, pressing against her touch as her other hand tightens around your hip. dropping your hands from the bed to cup her jaw, you press your lips to her cheek before whispering, right at her ear, “i'm always wet for you.”

that pulls a groan from her, her hands pulling you in even closer as she captures your lips in another desperate kiss. her tongue tangles with yours, and her hands slide from your hips to your back, fingers fumbling slightly as she unzips your dress with urgency. she keeps her forehead against yours as she ends the kiss, breathless and flushed, helping you slide the straps off your shoulders. you reach back to unhook your bra, discarding it quickly, and your hands tangle in her slightly damp hair as she tugs the fabric of your dress down to your waist.

her arms wrap around your back, pulling you in. the warmth of her skin radiates through the cotton of her shirt, and her mouth moves to the side of your neck, slow and reverent. her lips and tongue skim over your collarbones, your shoulders until your legs flex around her waist and you feel her shift. with a quiet groan, she turns, guiding you down until your back hits the cushions.

she kneels between your legs, lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it on the floor, your eyes follow every motion, and your chest rises as your breathing quickens. she leans down, bracing herself with one hand by your head, and the other teases against the wetness at the center of your underwear. her mouth latches onto your nipple, her tongue flicking, sucking in rhythm with the slow circles of her fingers. your back arches as your hands tangle in her hair.

“baby, take them off,” you gasp, pulling her into another kiss. her fingers fumble at the waistband, and you groan as the kiss deepens and distracts her. she chuckles against your mouth, pulling back just long enough to strip your underwear and toss them aside.

you grin, sliding the bunching fabric of your dress down between your legs, but stop her with one hand low on her stomach when she starts to move back down. “uh uh. you’re still slightly overdressed.”

“says the one with not even a single piece of clothing off,” she teases.

she still steps away long enough to remove the last of her clothes. your gaze tracks down and back up to her face, more serious now.

as you reach for her, your fingers brushing over the curve of her shoulder, you manage a breathless laugh between moans, your voice low and shaky as you whisper against her skin, “this is all your fault, sohyun… you didn’t even let me take this off before pushing me down and deciding you had to have your way with me… don’t stop…”

her hands drop to your knees, gently bending your legs and shifting you back. she lowers herself between your legs, resting her elbows on the bed, her hands sliding under your thighs. her mouth presses a sucking kiss to your inner thigh, trailing up with warm, open-mouthed kisses. then she kisses just below your belly button and looks up, voice soft and certain, “i want you to know... i consider us dating now because i don't just fuck anybody."

the words go straight through you.

your hands grip your dress tightly as anticipation flares hot in your chest. and then her mouth is on you, licking slowly against your folds, teasing, avoiding the spot you need her most. your hips jerk, but her grip holds you steady. her tongue moves in slow, aimless circles, the tip dipping just enough to make you writhe.

“god, sohyun,” you gasp, fingers threading into her hair, watching as she finally sucks your clit into her mouth, slow and deep. the rhythm of her tongue is maddening, and you can’t help grinding against her.

“make me come, baby,” you breathe out, voice rough and desperate. “you look so fucking sexy moving like that. god, i just want to touch you…”

her moan vibrates against your core, her tongue pressing firm as your muscles start to tremble. when she moves her mouth lower to gently lap at you through your release, your body arches, twitching. you hold her face, fingers gentle, your breathing shaky.

“what is it, y/n?” she murmurs against your ribs, looking up at you.

“come here.”

she lets you guide her up, straddling you now, your legs stretched out beneath her. your hands slide from her wrists to her arms, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach—everywhere. you can’t stop touching her. one hand grips her hip while the other slips easily between her legs, two fingers pushing into her warmth. she gasps, starting to move, but you still her with a hand.

“no…stay still and just, take my fingers. just like that, sohyun.”

her moan fills your ears, her walls clenching around you. you thrust deep and slow, watching her face as you add your thumb to the mix, brushing across her clit. her head drops to your shoulder, panting, her lips hot against your cheek.

you guide her rhythm, controlling her movements as your fingers curl inside her. her hips buck, and she moans into your skin, “baby, you have to let me move before i…no, wait, right there…oh, fuck me, right there…”

you smirk, lips brushing hers as you continue, building her up slow, deep, and steady. her orgasm hits with a shudder, her body trembling beneath yours as she clenches around your fingers. her hands fall limp behind your head, your name soft on her lips as her body melts into the bed.

you finally pull your hand away, wrapping both arms around her as she snuggles in close, helping her adjust the dress back down over her thighs. she kisses your chest, listening to your heartbeat as her fingers trace soft patterns on your skin.

“your heart’s still racing,” she says, smiling.

“that's your affect on me,” you grin, brushing her hair back from her face and tracing her lips with your fingertip.

she rolls her eyes playfully and kisses your palm, settling into your side with a sleepy smile.

“did you really mean it?” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “when you said you wanted us to date?”

sohyun glances over at you, eyes soft even in the dim light. “of course i meant it. i’m not even drunk, you know.”

a beat of silence. then you smile. “okay then. we’re dating.”

she laces her fingers with yours, her thumb gently stroking along your knuckles as she lets out a quiet yawn. “alright, girlfriend. just… don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend this didn’t happen.”

you shift closer, wrapping your arms around her, your lips brushing over her forehead in a slow, steady rhythm.

“i won’t,” you whisper against her skin, smiling as her breath evens out. “you’re mine now. my sohyun.”

#park sohyun #park sohyun x reader #park sohyun smut #tripleS x reader #tripleS #kim yooyeon #kim nakyoung #zhou xinyu #koma mayu

48 notes · View notes

jungccoks · 2 days ago

Text

Temptation im white PT 7 (FINAL)

Sypnosis; He thought she was pure. She knew he was watching. When Jungkook, the obedient choir boy, falls for the pastor’s daughter, he’s drawn into a dangerous game of temptation and secrecy. Their slow-burning desire turns into a storm of longing, jealousy, and defiance—testing faith, loyalty, and love. What starts in the shadows may destroy them both… or set them free.

A/N : i had fun writing this! I always post finished work bc i hate when i have to wait for updates on fics!! Hope u enjoy

————————————🕷️—————————————

Jungkook’s POV

The air felt heavier as he walked home. No birds chirping. No soft breeze. Just the sound of his footsteps and the dull thud of his heart trying to keep up with the ache in his chest.

She didn’t even look at him when he left.

Not really. Not the way she usually did.

He replayed the morning in his head over and over. Her voice—light, too light. Her smile—tight, unreadable. Like it had been rehearsed. Like it wasn’t for him.

It’s getting late. You should go. You should leave now. Everything’s fine.

But none of it felt fine. Nothing about the way she had shut down, withdrawn so fast—like a door slamming shut after being left wide open just long enough for him to believe he was welcome there.

He sniffled, dragging his feet as he reached the corner before his street. He couldn’t go home like this. Not with swollen eyes. Not with his mom’s questions.

So he sat on the curb instead, fingers trembling as he dug his hands into his jacket pockets. His phone buzzed, but he ignored it. Probably his mom again. Probably wondering where he had been—what kind of sins he’d committed this time.

He wanted to scream.

Was it a mistake? Did I ruin everything again? Did I push too hard? Or… was I never supposed to be that close to her in the first place?

Maybe it had just been lust. Maybe he had been a toy. A distraction. She had warned him before—never with words, always with those careful looks and sharp smiles. And still he clung to the moments. The softness in her eyes when she let her guard down. The way her body curved into his like it knew him. Needed him.

He covered his face with both hands, hunched forward like he could disappear into himself.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered. “So, so fucking stupid.”

Because he loved her.

He had given her everything—his heart, his trust, his body, his soul—and he was still terrified that she’d never let him all the way in.

And now, with the way she’d pulled back again, he felt it. That shift. That distance.

I’m losing her.

And worst of all…

He didn’t know how to stop it.

Reader’s POV

The scent of old hymnals and incense hit you the moment you stepped through the church doors again. Everything looked exactly the same—wooden pews lined up in neat rows, warm light filtering through stained glass. But inside you… everything had shifted.

Your palms were clammy. Your heart wouldn’t stop racing. You told yourself it was just nerves. You told yourself you could handle it. You’d done harder things. You could play it cool.

You spotted him the second you stepped inside. Jungkook.

His eyes found yours like magnets, wide and aching, and your breath hitched. For a second, you thought he might cry right there in front of the altar. But he didn’t. He just hovered near the edge of the pews, fidgeting, waiting.

You ignored him.

You had to.

You moved through the motions—greeting the choir, smiling at Sister Han, pretending everything was normal. Like you hadn’t pulled him inside you just nights ago. Like you hadn’t held him close after, felt his tears against your skin, felt your own heart cracking open.

You couldn’t afford to fall.

Not again.

You ducked into the hallway after service, hoping to disappear before he caught you. But his voice came soft behind you, strained, pleading.

“Wait. Can we talk?”

You turned slowly, eyes darting toward the chapel doors. Too many people. Too many ears. Too many things that could go wrong.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, voice trembling as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “you shouldn’t be talking to me.”

His brows pinched together, devastated. “What? Why not?”

“Because of your mom,” you said flatly, forcing the words past your tightening throat. “You know she doesn’t want you near me.”

“She doesn’t get to decide that,” he snapped, stepping closer, but you flinched.

“Jungkook, please,” you said quietly, glancing around again. “Don’t make this harder. Just… don’t.”

And before he could say another word, you turned on your heel and walked away—heart pounding, lungs burning, fingers aching to reach back and grab his hand.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because the moment you gave in again… You knew you wouldn’t be able to let go.

Jungkook’s POV

You turned.

You were walking away again, and it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest with every step you took.

No. Not again. Not this time.

His breath caught in his throat. He surged forward before he could stop himself, footsteps loud against the tile as he reached for your wrist.

“Wait—please—” His voice cracked as you froze, just barely.

You didn’t turn around. Not right away.

So he spoke again, louder this time. Desperate.

“I want you.” He heard the way it echoed, too raw for the holy silence around you. “I need you.”

You slowly turned your head, brows drawn together, lips parted—but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

“I can’t do this anymore—pretending like it didn’t mean anything, like I can breathe without you when I can’t. I think about you all the time. I think about your voice, your hands, the way you look at me like I’m something more than I am—like I’m yours. And maybe I’m nothing, maybe I’m too young, too soft, too fucking scared—but I love you.”

You blinked.

“I love you,” he repeated, voice barely a whisper now. His fingers trembled as he clutched your wrist tighter, grounding himself in the feel of your skin. “And I don’t care what my mom says. I don’t care if people talk. I would get on my knees right here in front of everyone if that’s what it takes to keep you. I swear to God—” his voice broke entirely—“I can’t live without you.”

The hallway buzzed with silence. Somewhere behind the doors, hymns carried faintly through the air, but in this moment, the world had narrowed to just you.

To your unreadable face.

To your racing heart beneath his fingertips.

To the question lingering in the air between you both.

Would you let him love you?

Reader’s POV

You stood frozen, his words still vibrating in the air around you.

“I love you.”

Your heart clenched. Your carefully constructed wall—every cold glance, every feigned indifference, every calculated retreat—started to crack. He looked wrecked in front of you, lips trembling, eyes wide and shining like he had just bared his soul and didn’t know what to do now that it was out there.

He would have gotten on his knees. You could see it in the way his body leaned toward you, aching to close the space.

And something inside you gave in.

Slowly, you reached out, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, warm and trembling. His breath hitched. You leaned in—not rushed, not frantic. Just... slow. Certain. Like the moment had always been waiting for this.

You kissed him.

Softly. Steadily. Taking in the taste of him, the desperation still lingering in the shake of his breath, the way his fingers gripped your waist like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. Your lashes fluttered closed.

“I want you too,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Jungkook let out something between a gasp and a whimper, and you felt it in your chest.

“I never stopped wanting you,” you confessed, fingers slipping into his hair. “Even when I was angry. Even when I tried to stay away.”

He nodded slowly, eyes closed like he was absorbing every syllable into his skin.

“But this…” you whispered, “you have to understand what this means. We don’t get to go halfway. Not anymore.”

He opened his eyes, a flicker of something steadier settling behind the wreckage. “I don’t want halfway.”

And just like that, something shifted.

Not the tension—it still simmered, ever-present, hungry—but the air between you finally felt like it belonged to both of you again.

Yours and his.

Together.

Jungkook’s POV

He couldn’t sleep the night after you kissed him.

Not just because of how soft your lips had felt or the way your voice had trembled when you said you wanted him too—but because something inside him had shifted.

A deep, anchoring certainty.

He was done hiding. Done letting other people dictate how much of you he was allowed to have.

The next morning, Jungkook sat at the kitchen table across from his mother. She was folding laundry, the clink of plates in the sink filling the silence between them. But he didn’t wait for the perfect moment. There was no such thing.

“Mom,” he said. His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t back down. “We need to talk.”

She looked up, eyebrows already drawing together. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m in love with her,” he said. No hesitation. “With the pastor’s daughter.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Jungkook…”

“I don’t care what you think of her,” he pushed on. “I don’t care if you think she’s ‘a bad influence’ or if you’re worried about what people will say. I love her. And I want to be with her.”

There was a long, tight pause. His chest burned with nerves, but he held her gaze.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” he added quietly. “You can’t control this part of my life.”

His mother’s lips thinned, the usual sharp retort clearly sitting on the edge of her tongue—but then something in her softened. Maybe it was the way his voice shook. Maybe it was the steel behind it. Maybe it was because she finally saw him not as her little boy, but as a man.

She sighed.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” she murmured.

“I already was,” Jungkook said. “When I thought I couldn’t be with her. That hurt worse than anything.”

Another pause.

Then, slowly, his mom nodded. “Alright,” she said. “You make your choices. Just… be careful. Please.”

It wasn’t a full blessing. But it wasn’t a war, either.

It was enough.

As Jungkook stepped out of the house and into the morning air, his heart thudded wildly in his chest.

He was going to tell you.

He was finally free to be yours—completely.

Reader’s POV

You didn’t expect to see him standing outside your front gate.

Not today.

Not with sunlight pouring down like peace itself and your mother humming softly in the kitchen behind you.

But there he was—Jungkook. Hands nervously fidgeting at his sides, eyes wide and soft, like he was still catching his breath.

You stepped outside, gently pulling the door shut behind you. “What are you doing here?” you asked, voice quieter than you intended.

“I told her,” he said, almost immediately. “I told my mom everything.”

You blinked.

His words hung in the air, delicate and fragile—but true. He meant them. You could see it in the way his chest rose and fell. He wasn’t here to grovel. He wasn’t trembling. He was here as a man, standing tall in the light, finally choosing you.

Your chest tightened, a slow ache building behind your ribs.

“And?” you whispered.

“She backed off.” His lips curled into the softest, smallest smile. “She still doesn’t love it… but she knows I’m serious. That I love you.”

The breath you didn’t know you were holding slipped out slowly. You felt like you could finally exhale. For the first time in weeks—months, maybe��the weight shifted off your shoulders.

Jungkook took a cautious step closer. “I wanted you to know,” he said. “That it’s not just stolen kisses and late-night windows. I want to be with you—for real. No hiding. No shame.”

You let your eyes fall shut just for a moment. Just to savor it. This moment. His words.

Then you opened them again and stepped toward him, your hand finding his.

“Come inside,” you murmured. “My mom’s out running errands.”

He looked startled for a second—then followed without question.

Inside, everything felt quieter. Still. But when you turned to look at him, something warm unfurled in your chest.

You reached up, brushed his cheek with your fingers, and leaned in—pressing the gentlest kiss to his lips.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.

It was just… you.

And him.

No secrets. No fear.

When you pulled back, your eyes locked with his. “You did that for me?”

“For us,” he whispered. “I want all of you. However you’ll let me.”

You pressed your forehead to his, heart thrumming steady and slow.

“I think,” you murmured, “you already have me.”

Reader’s POV

The church looked the same.

White stone walls, wide wooden doors, the scent of incense and hymn books and polished pews. Nothing had changed on the outside—but you had.

Your fingers were curled in Jungkook’s as you approached, heart pounding with every step. You felt the stares before the doors even opened. You knew what people would say, what whispers would follow. But for the first time, you weren’t going in alone. You weren’t pretending.

Jungkook held your hand tightly, jaw set, nervous but unwavering.

“I’m with you,” he whispered, like a promise.

You squeezed his fingers.

Inside, heads turned.

Some smiled. Some didn’t.

Your father looked up from the front row, his brows twitching in surprise—but he didn’t rise, didn’t speak. His silence said more than any words might have. You caught the way Taehyung glanced between you and Jungkook before offering a small nod of understanding.

But most of all, you felt the heavy stare from Jungkook’s mother—seated a few rows ahead.

Her lips were tight, arms crossed, disapproval written plainly on her face.

Jungkook saw her too. His grip tightened, and for a moment you worried he might let go. But he didn’t. Instead, he led you to a pew and sat beside you, straight-backed and proud.

He didn’t flinch.

Neither did you.

As the service began, you heard the murmurs behind you, the rustle of judgment. But Jungkook leaned close, his lips brushing your ear.

“I don’t care what they say,” he whispered. “I just want you.”

And somehow, that was enough.

You smiled—soft, certain—and threaded your fingers through his again.

Let them talk.

You had already chosen each other.

21 notes · View notes

femmeroi · 6 months ago

Text

My dog has every known disease

#fujiwara yusuke #<- no two artists draw her the same and I think that's beautiful #yugioh #ygo gx #Can you believe this only took three hours for me to finish I'm so back baby no more spending a month for one sketch I don't even like #I did spend a while drawing and redrawing a background cause I had no clue what I wanted to do for it but I decided not to fret over that #So its not really cohesive but that's fine because atp I think I'm just gonna get stuck on it if I dont move forward lol

8 notes · View notes

arolesbianism · 8 months ago

Text

Doodle I did of my girl Juliet earlier

#keese draws #lobotomy corporation #oc art #not super happy with this but I do enjoy looking at her so I can lower my standards for her #at least I feel like I have a better idea of her general shapes now #I spent hours and hours today on the lob corp grind and I think Im Finally ready to actually move forward with they story #Ive also been thinking abt my nuggets during their lor eras and thats been fun #in particular its been fun to think abt my ogs because half of them are experiencing their crash from finally being free from lob corp hell #and the other half are like frolicking in fields and making friendship bracelets and have made peace with their past and upcoming futures #and that half is the half that are all just godawful people who do not deserve that peace and happiness while the people they actively #traumatized are just left to deal with it #this is mostly abt juliet and loki they both suck I love them sm <3 #juliet is the one thats caused more active harm tho since shes that type of boss that will obsess over those she thinks have ~potential~#and once youve caught her attention you are guaranteed to have a horrible time as she will get what she wants out of you no matter what #she doesn't even work on abnormalities anymore just just breaths down ppls necks and fights when need be #loki is very similar in that regard he puts a lot of pressure on his team to provide the results he wants #hes less likely to like. directly psychologically torture those who are under him. but he still isnt a good boss.#hes also more openly rude and disrespectful towards those around him because while neither respect anyone but eachother #loki much more frequently openly states that fact to ppls faces because he feels like everyone around him is wasting his time #now loki actually does legitimately like a few other ppl he works with which is smth that cant rly be said for juliet #but hes also the one whos always on team 'lets murder the newbies for science' so y'know #ding is like his least favorite person here and its like 30% because he specifically accepted her into the info department because he #planned on getting her killed to finish off some research on a tool abno that was being worked on #but she survived the process so now she just like actually works here and he despises her despite the fact that shes rly good at her job #juliet doesn't usually send ger guys to die on purpose but if they do die she doesn't care #she simply feels that if they die early they were weak links anyways #she will still be 'nice' to newbies and to all of her coworkers for that matter but she still has quite the bad reputation regardless #some newbies do fall for her polite act but anyone whos been here for more than like a few days knows that she doesn't give a shit abt them #theyre both doing fine in lor theyre just like we may have lost everything but at least we have eachother :) (mason wants to strangle them)

2 notes · View notes

running-in-the-dark · 1 year ago

Text

I/we did a bunch of small but important productive things today (chose and ordered a ceiling light for the bathroom, ordered food for the cats, chose and ordered a window film for the bathroom, found an electricity provider and signed up with them) and it feels good. I'm still pretty overwhelmed by everything, but at least things are moving forward.

#also had that 1.5 hour conversation with my husband's grandma. that felt pretty important. someone needs to listen to her and no one else #does really.#the thing with the electricity provider is a bit funny because initially we were told we wouldn't have to do that bc it would be directly #between us & the landlord but everything's not finished so that'll only happen in a few months #but it's fine it was easy to find a good one etc.#tomorrow we'll try to figure out the paint colour for a few of the walls #so that we can finish most of the painting before we move all our stuff in this weekend #I just want to get to the fun stuff (building furniture and organising things) 😭 everything else is so stressful #but at least the place is clean now - my partner & his parents cleaned it today. there was still dirt from all the building stuff #everywhere so that should make a big difference ^^#now. I'm extremely tired so hopefully I'll be able to sleep!#personal

5 notes · View notes

nochepsicodelica · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW

"What are you doing? It's two in the morning, doll," Toji's voice drawls out, sleep morphing his voice into something quiet and gravelly.

You pause the show you have playing on your phone and look up at Toji, who's leaning against the dining room entryway. He has two random clumps of his hair sticking out, his eyes are slightly puffy with sleep, and there's this pout on his face that just pieces it all together.

"I woke up and wanted something sweet. I had a bite of cake and an orange. Well, two oranges," you say, giving him a glimpse of the progress you've made on the second one. He hums and goes quiet, groggily watching you continue to eat the fruit. "Go back to sleep, baby," you coo. "I'll head back in a few minutes."

"Come back, now. I'm tired," Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. He really looks like the grumpiest of bears.

You chuckle at the almost whiny sound in his voice. "Five minutes."

"No. Too long."

"Three minutes?" You counteroffer.

Toji shakes his head. "No, baby. Now."

"But..." you hold up your remaining two pieces of orange.

"Finish up. I'm waiting on you."

You sigh and stuff the two pieces of orange in your mouth, before standing up to wash your hands.

You follow behind Toji as he leads you through the dark hallway, back to the bedroom. He waits for you to walk in before shutting the door and joining you on his side of the bed. Immediately, he tries to steal all your warmth, because the sheets and the blanket feel cold on his naked torso and his legs. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and throws an arm over your chest, while his legs trap one of yours between them. He's all consuming.

"Why'd you get out of bed?" You murmur, stroking the back of his head. Toji lets out a quiet grunt, falling silent, again, after. You smile and stop talking so that he can go back to sleep. You bring your phone up and start scrolling through your socials, only to earn another quiet, but more disapproving grunt. "Sorry," your whisper, turning down the brightness of your screen.

"Turn it off, ma. It's too early for you to be awake," Toji chides.

"But I can't go back to sleep. I'm not tired," you explain.

"I can put you down. Just turn it off, alright?"

You sigh, defeatedly, and turn your screen off, before setting it on your nightstand.

"Turn onto your side," Toji tiredly mumbles, instructing you so that he can turn as well and spoon you. His arm goes over your waist and below your shirt to caress the bare skin of your tummy. His thumb slowly strokes your soft skin, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. "Relax," he says, coaxing a relieved sigh out of you. "There you go. You've got sugar in your system, now, ma. It might take a little longer to get you to sleep."

"Sorry," you mumble into your pillow. Your eyes don't feel heavy and you don't feel the least bit sluggish. It always feels nice to have Toji rub your tummy, and this method of getting you to sleep is ninety-nine point nine percent effective, the point one percent being this time.

"I don't think me rubbing your stomach is gonna save you this time," Toji says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He gets a quiet, disappointed sigh from you, followed by silence. He doesn't want you to feel bad. You're not the first person ever to wake up craving something so badly that it doesn't let you stay asleep, and tummy rubs aren't the only method he uses to help you get to sleep. "Want me to go down there and make it all better?" He murmurs.

"You need to sleep, too," you say, considering his own tiredness.

"I'll sleep just fine without you tossing and turning all night. Let me help you."

So, you do. You let him go under the blanket and pull your shorts and underwear down, both in one go. You feel his lips on your thighs, slowly making their way towards the part of you that very quickly grew needy, and once his tongue makes contact with you, your first instinct is to bend your knees and plant your feet on the mattress.

"Relax, baby," Toji says, under the blanket. His hands push on your thighs so that your legs go down, again. "Don't tense up too much. We're getting you to sleep, 'kay?"

"Sorry," you mumble, shutting your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the way Toji's mouth works on you. His hands stay on your thighs and rub your skin, soothingly, with the same gentleness he uses for the tummy rubs he gives you.

All that can be heard as Toji builds you up through the quietness of the night, are your soft breaths and the rustling of sheets, as you squirm and slightly arch off the bed. His tongue offers gentle licks to your clit, before he envelops the sensitive bud with his lips and starts suckling on it. Every time your legs go up, he hums against your cunt and pushes them back down, and it keeps going this way until he's had enough. You don't listen and he's corrected you multiple times, so he had to resort to locking your thighs in place with his arms.

"T-Toji," you whimper out, writhing under him and the relentlessness flicking of his tongue. "Please- Please?"

"Shh... I know, baby," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your cunt, before continuing.

Your legs are quivering and it's so hard to lie still when you've been edged and denied of your orgasm three times, now—all work done by solely his mouth. His soft, warm tongue has been lapping at you for long enough to have thin strings of your arousal and his saliva connecting you to him, even for a mere second, before those strings snap.

It doesn't take much more than Toji sucking on your over sensitive clit for a couple seconds, for you to finally get that powerful orgasm you've been grasping, but never fully reaching. Your toes curl, your hips roll against the mattress as your back arches off the bed, and you gasp sharply, a sound that leads the rest of your sounds of pleasure out, as Toji helps you ride out the sensation. While, normally, he would be a little mean and overstimulate you, even just the slightest bit, he opts out of it, this time, because the purpose of this from the start was to get you to sleep, and based off the sounds you made, Toji knows you're going to sleep so good.

Once you've calmed down, your breathing steadied and your body still on the bed—now entirely relaxed—Toji cleans you up with his tongue. Slow, gentle strokes, because despite this act of kindness being for you to achieve rest, he can't—doesn't want to—waste your sweet essence.

When he's done, he slides your underwear back on and uses your shorts to wipe his face, before tossing them somewhere behind him on the bed. Toji peeks out from under the blanket and takes in your peaceful expression. Your eyes are shut, not a crease in your brows, and your breaths come softly through your nose. This is it.

He tries to be as careful as possible when crawling back up to his side of the bed, not wanting to wake you up after just getting you to sleep. It seems like the coast is clear when his head hits his pillow and he carefully shifts so that he can watch you until he falls asleep. Then, he sees you stir and he starts thinking that maybe the orgasm didn't fully wear you out, but just left you dazed. He doesn't say anything when you briefly open your eyes to look at him, but when you lean in to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, he's furthermore silenced. Immediately after, you bury your face in his chest and doze off for sure, this time. Toji coils around you and instantly returns to his all consuming way of sleeping with you.

5K notes · View notes

ruesol · 7 months ago

Text

Play fighting with Boxer!Sukuna

Note: Reader is referred to as girlfriend at one point.

Masterlist

“Babe.”

“Not right now.”

“Babe.”

“Sukuna, I promise I’ll be done with this book soon.”

He huffed and fell back onto the couch. He had been trying to get your attention for the past 30 minutes but you were adamant on finishing your book. This is all the fault of that damn community book club your coworker recommended you join. Now whenever, you’re off work and Sukuna doesn’t have to train, you’re reading. Usually the two of you spent almost all your spare time together but now you spent half of it reading your newest book for your weekly discussion. You always did your best to spoil him with kisses and cuddles but it was never enough.

Book club be damned, he needed you to be superglued to his side every single second.

“My girlfriend has a side man and he’s made of paper,” he huffed to himself as he watched you intently read. What was so great about your book anyway? Was it worth ignoring your gorgeous (and shirtless) boyfriend? He even had a tattoo of your name on his left pec and you were still choosing to smother a book with your attention.

Sukuna’s wallowing turned him creative- he stood in front of you, trying to make sure your guard was down. You didn’t look up which meant that you were still engrossed in your book. His hand swooped in and swiftly snatched the book from you. “Sukuna,” you groaned. “Give it back, I was at a good part.” You got up to grab it from him but he raised it above his head. “Kiss me.” You glared at him and gave him a quick peck on his lips. “Done, now give it.”

“No,” he nonchalantly replied. “But I kissed you.” You wondered why he was being particularly irritating today.

“That was me begging for a morsel of your attention. Now cuddle me if you want it,” he said and cheekily smirked.

You ignored him and hopped trying to get your book. Sukuna simply dodged your sad attempts and laughed every time you missed. “I don’t even know why you’re trying.” You gave him a pointed look at his comment.

“Okay, fine, you can have your book if you beat me in a fight.”

“What? That makes no sense.” You couldn’t believe this man. “It seems like a fair challenge to me,” he said as he walked to a particularly high shelf and placed your book on top of it. “You know I can just use my stepping stool for that, right?” you said before scoffing at him.

“Then it’s a good thing I hid it.” His sarcastic smile was now pissing you off. “But you literally fight for a living. You have the upper hand.”

“I’m in love with you. Use that as a distraction. Come on, let’s go to the ring.” You were speechless as he dragged you to the fighting “ring” (also known as your bedroom).

Since you had a smaller frame than him, he agreed to let you have the first hit. You sighed and braced yourself. You didn’t have much of a strategy except for charging at him with such a high speed that he’d fall on the bed and would accept defeat.

But as soon as you were in close distance, he caught both your arms, turned you around and threw you on the bed. He didn’t give you a second to get up before he straddled you. “Haha!” he exclaimed. Seeing you all riled up underneath him was a sight he was used to but it never failed to awe him.

“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he asked as he began to lower himself to face you. “This is so unfair! You’re like 200 pounds, I can’t even move you,” you said as you tried to push him off. Sukuna grabbed your hands that were fighting him and he playfully wrestled them. Who knows what would’ve happened if he used his real strength.

Thank goodness for your quick thinking because you remembered that Sukuna was extremely ticklish so you pulled your hand out of his grasp with all the strength you could muster up and started poking his sides. “Babe!” he yelled before toppling over to his side.

It was your turn to straddle him and before you could pin his arms beside his head, he caught yours and pulled you down to him. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. Your cheeks were mushed against the very tattoo of your name.

You were literally stuck in one position. The more you tried to move the tighter he’d hold you. “Sukuna, you cheater. Why do I always do this to myself?” You sighed, accepting defeat.

Sukuna kissed your forehead and laid you both on your sides, still not letting you go. “Sweet, sweet victory,” he whispered to himself.

-•-

I need to be (lovingly) smothered by a beefy nerd. Someone like Clark Kent.

5K notes · View notes

jinwoosbabyboo · 4 months ago

Note

Just read your telling the LADS Men you're pregnant hcs and AAAA I loved it so muchhh. the boys r so silly. SOOO May I request LADS men when reader goes into labour when they're away? Sorry I just love chaos 🤭

The Baby is Coming!

Giving your lads man a call when you're going into labor while he's not with you. A/N: Hey nonnie I bet you thought I forgot about this request huh? I didn't sorry I took so long to finish it. Love you 🩵

Zayne

Calling Zaynes' office

Zayne: Dr. Zayne speaking Tara: It’s coming Zayne: What’s coming?

Fumbling noises from you snatching the phone from Tara

MC: Your big headed child Zayne my water just broke

Loud clattering noises on Zaynes' end

Zayne: I’m on my way home now MC: Tara is bringing me to the hospital just stay there Zayne: Right right … I'll report to labor and delivery MC: *groans in pain* Zayne: How bad is the pain MC: I’ll punch you in the nuts so you can experience it firsthand Zayne: I’ll let that one slide because I know it’s the contractions talking

Rafayel

MC: The twins are coming Rafayel: WHAT!? MC: YEA! Rafayel: They’re 3 weeks early MC: No shit sherlock *groans in pain* Rafayel: Tell them I said stop hurting mommy MC: Mommy is gonna curb stomp daddy if he isn’t here within the next 5 minutes Rafayel: Don’t worry your savior is on the way MC: You’re not funny hurry up Rafayel: Can’t you just cross your legs? MC: Nvm I’ll drive myself Rafayel: Okay okay I’m sorry I’m just freaking out MC: I have not one but two crotch goblins trying to rip me in half I need you to lock in or so help me God I will fry you up and serve you with a side of fries and extra tartar sauce you hear me? Rafayel: Yes ma’am

Xavier

Xavier: I have everything ready to read to your tummy tonight MC: You’ll be reading to our son instead Xavier: What do you mean? MC: My water broke while I was at Philos Xavier: Why are you there? MC: I was picking out the flowers I want in my hospital room *groans in pain* Xavier: I’m coming don't worry MC: You coming is what caused all of this but it's fine Jeremiah is driving me to the hospital now Xavier: ……does he drive better than me? MC: Xav please don’t piss me off right now……. Xavier: Right heading there now MC: Make sure you bring the baby bag Xavier: I have it ... unlike Jeremiah MC: NOT NOW!

Sylus

Sylus: I'm getting a distress call from Mephisto what's wrong? MC: The baby is coming Sylus: Is this another case of Braxton Hicks? MC: No its a case of amniotic fluid all over the damn kitchen floor Sylus: I'm on my way don’t move MC: *groaning in pain* I can barely do anything right now Sylus: Remember the breathing techniques MC: This is all your fault Sylus: I know Princess you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want MC: I’m gonna break it Sylus: Good luck with that MC: What did you just say? Sylus: I said I’m sure of that

Caleb

MC: Hey dumbass your big headed child is trying to tear me in two Caleb: Aww are they kicking too hard? MC: Caleb….. Caleb: Don’t tell me MC: Yes my water broke Caleb: Okay don’t worry I’m on my way stay on the phone with me MC: Gideon is already driving me to the hospital meet us there Caleb: ….. MC: You there? Caleb: Is he driving safe? MC: CALEB! Caleb: Right on my way! Uh real quick did you grab the baby bag? MC: Yes Caleb: Do you remember the breathing techniques? MC: Yes Caleb: Did you- MC: STOP WITH THE TWENTY ONE QUESTIONS BEFORE I HANG UP Caleb: Alright I'm done but just so you know you can scream at me all you want I don't mind MC: *Hangs up*

2K notes · View notes

asapeveryday · 23 days ago

Text

ALL NIGHT -P.B

one night. one apartment. two people. enhanced stamina.

warnings: fingering, oral sex, strap-on sex, vibrator use, face riding, degradation, dirty talk, slight food play, overstimulation, slight/unintentional somno, drug use

tldr: you guys take drugs and then fuck like rabbits. like, seriously it’s kinda cray

PLEASE READ: i honestly know nothing about honey packs or ANY libido enhancer. from my research honey packs only work on men(?) but for the sake of this fic they work on women too.

i have no idea what it feels like to be on an aphrodisiac/performance enhancing drug or how it affects anything so please go into this knowing i am utterly freeballing in hopes of pleasing the anon who requested this as best as i can.

11pm

rain pitter-patters the floor to ceiling glass window of your apartment as a movie plays in your living room. The tv screen paints your light-lacking home with faint colour. Aside from the rain, soft moans ring out all through the air.

Her arm is slung over your shoulder, her body warm and pressed against you. She shivers as your finger tips dance between the hem of her hoodie and the skin of her toned stomach, you try not squeak when she tugs at your hair in return.

Nights like these are the best, snuggled under blankets and dim lights in front of the tv, Netflix on full volume, Paige by your side.

“You picked the horniest movie possible.” Paige snorts, her words buzz in your ear since your head is on her chest.

“I knew there were sex scenes…just not this many.” You sigh, biting a lip as the main character moans loudly again as the main love interest smacks her ass. “What is this, the third one?”

“Second. But this one is long,” Paige tuts, clicking her tongue as the fucking on screen gets more aggressive, “goddamn, how does he have the stamina for that?”

“I know!” You laugh. “And look, it’s getting light outside.” You point to the tv, where one of the windows in the movie shows the changing time. “When they started it was dark.”

“Went all night, huh.” Paige whistles. “Lucky guy.”

“Lucky?” You sit up, turning to face her. She immediately raises both her hands in surrender, eyes wide.

“Not because of her,” she groans, talking about the main character, “but they’re going for hours like it’s no problem.”

“You’d think as an athlete you’d have the stamina.” You laugh, though it’s cut short when her brow raises in that challenging way that always pisses you off. Her mouth opens, then closes.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, but her face says otherwise.

“What is it!” You hiss. “Tell me.”

“It’s not me who doesn’t have the stamina.” She says, expression a mixture of superiority and guilt. “You can take like, two rounds max before passing the hell out.”

“Oh, what the fuck.” You frown. “Since when have you wanted to go for longer? What, do I go to bed and you’re just laying awake at night horny?”

“Psh, no.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine with two. Two is good, it’s enough.” She reassures you, hand on your waist. “But if you’d ever ask to keep going…”

“You’d have it in you.” You finish, understanding it’s no fault of your own. “I’d like to try, but honestly after cumming twice I’m tired.”

“I know, baby.” Paige shrugs. “S’not a big deal, I was just thinking. I can go for a while, but I dunno about all night anyways.”

“Yeah.” You settle, though sometimes tugs at your mind as you focus back on the movie. You watch as the girl is flipped from position to position, location to location, sexy music over the scene.

Paige shifts in her seat. You tense as it gets kinkier by the minute. And then the scene is over, and they’re laying in bed as morning sun fills the room.

And you suddenly have an idea.

“Where are you going?” Paige asks, eyes following you closely as you move her hand from your body and slip off the couch.

“Wait here.” You mumble, sending her a coy smile as you walk out of the living room. You know she’s watching your ass as you walk away like she always does. She loves the pyjama shorts you’re wearing, says they do you justice.

After rummaging through the back of the closet in your bedroom, you finally reach a large shoebox. You’d bought a really sexy pair of heels for Paige’s first wnba after-party a while back, and kept the box to commemorate that…as well as a few other things related to you and Paige.

When she sees you walk back into the living room, shoebox in hand, she immediately straightens. Paige recognizes it, of course. She’s practically been a Pavlovian experiment, you can see it as she licks her lips with eager flourish as you stand in front of the couch, tossing the lid of the box off to the side.

“What’re we doing?” She says, smile evident in her tone. She even takes the blanket off of her, and you almost laugh and how ready she’s willing to be.

“Chill.” You hum. You take out the the few dildos you have, leather components for the strap, and a huge bottle of lube that’s half empty, before tipping the box upside down and watching as the contents spill all over the coffee table in front of the couch.

Dental dams, ripped fishnets, mints that make you salivate like crazy, fuzzy handcuffs, the batteries you use for your toys, and a lot of little plastic packets.

Paige just takes everything in for a moment, brows slightly taught in uncertainty. Her eyes catch on the plastic packets, and she picks one up for inspection just as you’d hoped.

“The fuck is this?” She murmurs, squinting to read the small text on the plastic. “Oh, shit.” She adds, meeting your gaze.

You simply smile. “Well?”

“Where’d you even get these?”

“A few weeks back when me n’ the girls went clubbing. The place was handing them out, and I decided to keep them for later.” You admit.

“Oh, so you’ve been plotting, huh.” She quirks a brow, clearly amused.

“Not really!” You whine. “I was just curious, I guess. I heard they give you crazy stamina….and like, uhm…”

Her stare is heavy on you, head cocked, grinning sly as a fox. “And what?”

“They make you like, super horny.” You finish, unable to hold her gaze. “And stuff.”

“Right.” She nods, attempting to hide her smile beneath her hand. She rubs her mouth in thought as she reads the packet again. “This is so sketchy.” She murmurs. “But if it works, we could probably go all night.”

“Probably.” You nod.

Her eyes meet yours again. “Would you…wanna?”

You take a packet for yourself, attempting to mull over the small text written over the plastic. It sounds like gibberish, but it’s late and she’s already looking at you with sheer excitement, so your answer is obvious.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Let’s try.”

-★彡

What started as making out on the couch turned into you leading her to your room by the hand, not even bothering to close the door before she’s on you again.

There’s no urgency, no burst of energy like what you expected. It’s fairly normal, slow and sweet as she dips her head opposite yours to kiss you.

Her hands swim under the crewneck you wear, settling firmly on the crook of your waist with warm, rubbing thumbs grazing over your skin. Meanwhile you make quick work of her mouth, your tongue darting in to meet hers, tasting her.

You stumble around the room stuck to her like glue before your legs hit the foot of your bed and you topple over back-first, giggling as she follows.

Her legs cage yours in, hands arms settle on either side of you, and her mouth trails sweet kisses all over your face, jaw and neck. It’s loving and gentle, even when one hand leaves your side and carefully tugs your pyjamas pants down. You lift your hips to help her as she takes them off, before spreading your legs a little wider for her on the bed.

“Thank you, baby.” She mumbles against your skin, sucking pretty bruises onto your neck as her fingers pull your panties to the side, and tentatively slide between your folds.

“You’re so wet already.” Paige chirps, and you feel her teeth bared in a smile with a shiver. “How do I know it’s not the packets?” She adds.

“It’s not.” You hum, sliding your hands under her hoodie to feel at her abdomen. “Just you.”

She’s satisfied with that answer, because her fingers go from teasing your entrance to actually being inside you. One finger at first, before she realizes you’re loose enough for another.

You let your breath hitch as she pumps in and out of you, a gentle rhythm of pleasure humming through your body with every thrust of her hand. She whispers sweet nothings, pretty baby’s and so good’s until you’re squirming against her.

You kiss her again, half to shut her up and half to keep any whimpers from spilling out—because those will only feed her ego. Her pace quickens, her kisses turn sloppy, and your stomach tightens as your high begins and ends. She doesn’t let up, not until you’re panting too much to kiss back, and with a jolt you cum all over her fingers.

You feel her start to pull back from you before you grab her hand, holding it inside of you. “Don’t stop.” You plead, not thinking in the slightest.

Paige falters. “You sure? You just-“

“I know.” You whine, spreading your legs. You did cum, but you just weren’t done, the buzz wasn’t enough, you wanted it to keep going. “Just, please.”

“Okay.” She kisses your face. “You’re spoiled, you know that?” Paige grins, though her fingers start pumping again and you can’t help but genuinely flinch at the sensation, it’s unlike before.

Your stomach is tight again, your core is tingling. The stimulation is too much, too soon, but you need it. Even when you struggle to hold your legs open, when you beg her to do it for you. She obliges, wedging her knee between your thighs so she can keep going, lips bitten as she watches her fingers disappear and reappear by the second.

When you cum again it’s drawn out, fingers clenching the sheets of your bed as you finish.

“Whoa.” Paige hums. “That was- that was good.”

“Mhm.” You mumble, pulling her back in for another kiss by the fabric of her hoodie. You came for the second time, but instead of feeling ready to pass out, you’re surprisingly energized.

She pulls away, still close to your face. You watch her eyes as they dart from your clenched fists around her clothes to your lips.

And you feel yourself twitch down there again.

In a burst of energy you roll over, taking her with you. The positions are reversed now, you on top and her caged in against the ruffled sheets of your bed. You make quick work of straddling her torso, and when your already swollen clit brushes against her shorts you let out a little sigh.

This sensitivity is definitely new.

Paige is watching your every move, licking her lips as you throw the remainder of your clothes off and onto the ground.

And then you slide off of her.

“Take everything off.” You hum, crawling towards the nightstand by your bed.

“Or what?” Paige teases.

You don’t respond, simply opening the drawer of your nightstand and taking out your favourite vibrator wand.

The minute she catches sight of it her amused smile drops. You haven’t used this one on her—you haven’t used any on her at all.

“You don’t wanna?” You ask, shrugging.

She frowns, clearly unhappy at your false disinterest, but she holds your eyes as she slips her shorts off of her legs, her underwear with it.

“And the hoodie.” You add, gleefully at that. “And lay down.”

Paige grunts, but pulls her hoodie over her head regardless. She’s not wearing a bra, to your delight.

“Good.” You purr. You crawl over to her, swinging your leg over her head so that your pussy is hovering over her face. Her hands grab at your ass, already knowing what to do.

You shiver when she forces you down, her tongue licking an agonizingly slow strip across your folds. Before she can get too frantic, you lean forward enough to place the vibrator between her parted legs, turning it on once it’s settled correctly.

The whimper she udders at the start of the machine vibrates through your body.

She struggles to find routine at first, jolting as you toy around with the settings of the vibrator, but before you know it she’s holding your pussy down like she depends on it, lapping and panting against your ultra-sensitive skin.

The stimulation is one thing, but the sound of her breathy moans from beneath you rile you up on an entirely new level. You’re absolutely buzzing with sensation, grinding frantically against her parted mouth trying to chase that high.

“You’re so good, baby.” You mew, rocking your hips on her face. “So good Paige.” You add, upping the intensity on the vibrator as a reward for her. She lets out a strangled moan at that, hands gripping the skin of your ass hard enough to leave fingernail indents. You try to rise a little, unsure if it’s too much for her, but she forces you right back down, her tongue swirling around your clit and nuzzling into you with feverish energy.

Her legs are squeezing tight now, soaking wet at the core thanks to the wand wedged between them. You feel it too, practically shaking atop her. Before you know it, a huge feeling of release washes over you in big, sobering waves. You can’t help but cry out as you cum, the feeling of her mouth lapping it up engulfing you wholly. In turn she starts grinding against the vibrator, and then she cums too.

You turn the vibrator off and lazily crawl off of her, collapsing by her side and into her open arms. You’re both hard-breathing, flushed messes, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide.

“Holy shit.” Is all Paige can utter, her face glistening with what’s left of you. You can’t help but laugh, and she starts to laugh too, kissing your nose, forehead and lips with a smile.

Then the both of you are grinning and kissing, tumbling all over the bed like frantic teenagers. You thought you were exhausted till her teeth playfully pulled at your lip, and that burning spark in your gut came right back.

“Jesus,” you hum, sighing as her lips suck dark marks into your collarbone. “I could keep going.”

“So let’s keep going.” Paige murmurs.

“Mmh, seriously?” You sigh.

Her hands find your breasts, the calloused pads of her fingers brushing over your nipples. “We could go all night?” Paige smiles, eyes dangerously bright, full of energy again. “If you want.”

You hold her gaze as her mouth latches onto your chest, kissing all over the skin of your breasts in worship.

All night doesn’t sound too bad.

-★彡

1am

The next hour or so is filled with mindless making out, limbs tangled and shoulders bumping you suck every possible crevice of her face. It’s a break, in a sense, but a distracting one none the less. You’re both so incredibly sensitive, even the brush of her knee between your thighs sends waves of feeling through your body.

Paige’s lips struggle to part from you even when you both leave your room, stumbling around your apartment in an intimately naked scene, like she’s so obsessed that everything else has faded away. Even when she parts to grab another packet and the strap from the coffee table, her pinky finger stays lovingly entwined in yours.

You fasten it on her, adjusting every aspect with rigorous intent and bubbling excitement. Then you’re both stumbling through the place again, lips entwined with more ferocity.

It’s all in Paige’s control now, not that you mind. She’s leading with her tongue, her hands are groping whatever skin she can reach till you feel your back hit the surface of your kitchen counter. She lifts you up like you’re a doll, sitting you on the marble and pushing you to lie back against the cold material.

“What’re you doing?” You laugh, back arched to avoid the chill of your skin against the counter.

“Watch.” She orders.

She’s standing between your dangling legs as she rips the packet open with her teeth, drizzling the drugged-honey from your navel all the way to the valley between your breasts before tossing the plastic away.

You watch in excitement as her hands settle on either side of you, as she leans in and licks a clean stripe across your body, following the line of honey she drew till it’s all gone. The hairs on your arms stand up straight, goosebumps covering the expanse of your skin as her tongue cleans up the mess. Then she kisses you, and you taste it on her before she pulls away.

“Paige,” you whine, parting your legs, “please, please just fuck me.”

“I hear you, ma.” She rasps, fondling the silicone attached to her till the tip is grazing your slit. “You’re so fucking wet, I can tell you want it.”

“I want it so bad.” You nod vigorously. “C’mon.”

She pushes in, not nearly enough, then pulls back again. Then her hands are on your waist, pulling you forward and lifting your pelvis up just enough so that she can push into you at a better angle. You suck in a breath when she bottoms out, then bite out a whimper after the first thrust.

Then she sets her pace.

“Fuck,” you moan, “fuck, oh, Paige.” You cry out, hands trying to grip for anything you can on the flat surface of the counter. Slapping noises fill the room as her hips snap back and forth, lip bitten and eyes stark on the way you look splayed out on the kitchen counter like a meal. Your tits bounce with every shift of your body as she rocks against you.

“Just last week you could barely handle round two.” She grunts out. “Now look at you, moaning all over my dick. How many times are you gonna cum for me tonight, huh?”

The feeling of her filling you up makes you even more turned on. You can hear the noises of your slick against the silicon, the proof of your pleasure. It just feels so mindlessly good.

You reach for something, anything, but all you end up doing is knocking shit over. The sound of steel hitting the ground reverbs throughout the kitchen as an empty bowl and some cutlery fly off of the counter. You wince at the volume, but Paige leans in to grip your face.

“You’re a slut, you know that?” She bites, fully bottomed out, fingers around your face.

“Don’t stop.” You whine, shifting your hips. “Please, p.”

“You’re making a big fucking mess, moaning so damn loud and pushing things off the table.” Paige hisses, shoving your face slightly as she starts thrusting again. “Like a slut.”

“Maybe I am.” You choke out, feeling your core tense with every word. “I just need you so bad, need you to fill me up.”

“You don’t deserve it.” Paige grunts, grasping your skin so tight as her hips stutter agains you. “But I give you whatever you want, right? You just wanna get fucked.”

“Please, baby.” You moan, once again gripping nothing in attempt to smooth the pleasure. “Paige, please.”

She pulls your legs fully off of the counter now, roughly flipping you around and bending you over the cold expanse of the counter.

You’re breathless as one of her hands holds your back down while the other slaps your ass. Then she enters you again, slowly building up to the same rigorous pace as before.

The noises are louder now as your ass claps against her strap. You’re pushed forward against the counter with every thrust, your face smushed against the marble, lips choking out broken cries of satisfaction as she fucks you.

“Take it.” She mumbles, “You take my cock so good, baby.”

You cum with a full-body shiver, feeling the way it spills at she pulls out of you, the emptiness apparent.

It’s only a moments rest before you’re kissing her again, your back now meeting the wall before she picks you up. Her hands settle on your ass as you wrap her legs around her, and before you know it she’s fucking you all over again.

-★彡

3am

“Baby,” She moans, “Oh fuck, slow down.”

You can’t, or more accurately you won’t. You’re on a high, tits pressed against her back as her own are flush against the glass of your floor to ceiling windows. Rain hammers on one side of the glass as you fuck her against the other, skin sticky with sweat and arousal.

You can feel her legs shaking, you can see how her palms press against the window, or occasionally clench when you roll your hips just right. You rarely had the energy to use the strap on her, but thanks to your drug-induced heat, having the instrument was a blessing.

“Or what?” You breath against her neck, licking the spot where you left a hickey a few moments earlier, relishing how her shoulders raise in sensitivity. “Gonna cum like a little bitch?” You grin. The high of talking dirty felt good, you understood why she was so prone to it now.

“Yes.” Paige whines, voice raspy. “Fuck, yes.”

“You were calling me a slut earlier.” You bite, whispering into the shell of her ear. “But look at you now. What would happen to you if someone in the building across saw? Imagine the headlines.“

You grip her hips hard, forcing her into you, using her for your gain. She can’t even fathom your words, too drunk off of the sensations to formulate an answer.

“See? You don’t care.” You hum. “That’s why you’re not gonna cum yet.”

“What?” She finally snaps out of her daze, head whipping to meet your gaze as you slip out of her.

“No…” she bites her lip. “Wait, don’t stop.”

“Don’t be a baby.” You scoff, loosening the strap and stepping out of it. “Get on the floor. Legs spread.”

She’s a little confused, peeling herself off of the glass and stumbling around a bit, before you literally guide her to the hardwood and pry her legs apart with your hands.

The gasp Paige lets out when you lay down, lips against her pussy, is like music to your ears.

She’s already soaked from your strap, you can taste it as you press your tongue flat against her, sloppily kissing the mess between her legs as she throws her head back, hands gripping the hair on your head.

“Oh, god.” She whines.

“Shut up.” You snap, gripping the soft skin of her thighs. Her fingers tug at strands of your hair as you nuzzle into her heat, tongue swirling around her clit.

She’s grinding against your face, thighs shaking from the earlier denied orgasm and now your face between her legs. It’s almost too much when two of your fingers slip inside, tentatively pumping before they curl inside her.

“Shit.” She whines again, voice breathy. “Let me cum.”

You stop at that demand, smiling against her skin, fingers unmoving, and she groans in dissatisfaction.

“Beg for it.” You hum. “If you want it so bad.”

“Fuck, no.” She snaps, lips pouty as she looks at you. “Just—just keep going.”

You just raise a brow, slipping your fingers out of her.

“Beg.” You repeat, and you watch her mull the idea over. She’s never begged in her life, you can tell. Sex is easy currency for someone so sought after. “C’mon, begging never hurt anyone.” You add, licking a circle around her clit, to which she instantly screws her eyes shut in response to.

“Just beg for me, Paige.” You grin, kissing between her thighs. “Beg.” You tease her slit with your fingertips.

You can see her breaking, you can see it in the way her chest heaves, how her lip wobbles.

“Please.” She finally mumbles. “Please, baby. Please fuck me, please let me cum.” She moans pathetically.

Who are you to deny someone who asks so nicely?

-★彡

5am

You’re not sure what happened between ruining Paige on the floor of your living room to now, but you wake up groggy on your bed, sheets half off the mattress, legs tangled with hers.

You’re sticky between your legs, covered in sweat and god knows what else in general, hair totally a mess, lips swollen, ass sore—presumably from her hands getting a little too aggressive. She’s beside you, back pressed to your chest, her body rising and falling in shallow breaths of light sleep.

It’s still dark out. You cant’ve be asleep for long.

It takes great effort to untangle yourself from her and slip out of the bedroom. A hot shower is much needed, and the moment that steaming water hits your skin it’s like you’ve been regifted all of your energy.

You let your fingers dance all over the skin Paige had marked hours earlier, hickeys and bite marks tattering the expanse of your thighs, breasts, chest and neck. You think back to the start of the night—and everything that happened afterwards, and to your surprise, still have it in you to be turned on.

“What the hell is in those packets.” You mumble to yourself, letting your fingertips trail from your tits to your stomach, then lower, to the pulse between your legs.

Carefully, you let your fingers pull the hood of your clit back, rubbing the sensitive bud in slow circles. It feels good—not as good as Paige—but good enough. You can’t tell if you’re wet from the shower water or your own arousal, but it doesn’t matter. You speed up your hands anyways.

Soon enough your soft mewls fill the bathroom. You assume the sound of the shower covers them up a bit, now aggressively rubbing your clit in a pathetic chase for what must be your 5th orgasm that night.

And then you hear the click of the bathroom door, and you stop.

There’s a few quaint steps, they pause in front of the shower, and then continue. When the fogged-over shower door opens, you’re met with a freshly awoken Paige.

“Move.” She grumbles, stepping in with you. You oblige.

She’s covered in marks too, you can see it now that she’s showing off in front of you, wetting her hair and closing her eyes as her hands run over her tits, her stomach, the beginning of her thighs. Her neck is littered with pink and red hickeys, and her muscular back has long marks from your nails.

Her body is perfect. Breasts that fit in your hands like you were made for them, abs firm enough to ride on, legs strong and sturdy. Her back ripples as she runs her fingers through her hair. Her hands are personally your favourite, with her long fingers and veins.

You can’t help but slide behind her, running your hands all over her, gripping her ass and giving it a little playful smack.

“You’re so needy.” She scoffs, turning around and grabbing your hands, stopping you from touching her. “Calm down.”

“I can’t.” You frown. “You interrupted me. Now you have to deal with it.”

“Fucking whore.” She shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. It’s aggressive, teeth clashing and lips bitten. Her hands grip your face, turning you to move against her the way she wants. “You jus cleaned off, now you wanna be dirty again.”

“You wanted all night.” You smile against her lips, letting your hands trail down to her pussy. “So I’m just giving what you asked for.”

“Don’t act like this is all for me.” She snorts, one hand leaving your face to graze your folds. “You’re selfish.”

“You’ve orgasmed more than I have.” You challenge, fingers toying with her.

“That’s such a fucking lie!” Paige groans, slipping a finger in you with ease.

“Maybe we’re even.” You shrug, biting your lip as she starts to pump in and out of you. Similarly, her lips part as you do the same.

“So—“ she murmurs, breathless already, “we keeping it even?”

“Yeah.” You nod vigorously, looking down to watch as your fingers disappear inside her—and as hers disappear inside you.

“Shit.” She sighs, watching the sight herself. “S’good.”

“Mhm.” You huff, throwing your head back. You can feel your stomach tensing already, skin hot and buzzing from her hands and the hot water. She adds another finger, you do the same. In no time you’re both heavy breathing messes, hands cramped and mouths entwined. She cums a little before you, but you keep going till you follow soon after.

She opens the shower door in a hurry, practically stumbling out with you alongside her.

The bathroom is full of fog, so you manage to turn the fan on before she tugs you out by the hand, right back into the bedroom.

Then you’re kissing again, slower, mumbling unintelligible words between breaths, parting to catch each other staring. Her eyes can barely stay open, and at one point you’re not sure if you’re kissing back. The ache in your gut, the one that’s been saying more, more, is dulling. You’re reduced to an exhausted hum, brain as foggy as your bathroom.

“M’ so fucking tired.” Paige whispers between little kisses on your face, hands holding you loosely against her.

You catch a glimpse of your bedroom window, and you’re surprised to see the beginning of morning, red hues mixing with the dark leftovers of the night.

She notices too, you meet her eyes as they part from the sky. She kisses you again, closed mouth, hands wandering.

“Good morning.” You mumble, lazily laughing.

“Good fucking morning.” She huffs back, holding you close. “That was something.”

You nod. “What is even in those packets?”

“Don’t wanna know.” Paige mumbles. You’re not sure if she says anything else, because your eyes shut right after.

That sleep in her arms is the best you’ve ever had in your life.

#fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #smut #paige bueckers smut #uconn women’s basketball #paige x reader #dallas wings #wbb #wnba #wnba x reader

1K notes · View notes

lvl1l1 · 29 days ago

Note

Heyy!! Can i please request LADS guys' reaction when you try to pay 50/50 on a date ^_^

LaDS men when you offer to split the bill

pairings: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb x Reader(separate)

content: fluff, suggestiveness in zayne’s

a/n: oh to have a rich boyfriend. working through reqs rn sorry if they’re taking a while TT

Xavier

You and Xavier were out on your first date night in a while.

You’d both been busy with work, spending time together on missions and at home but you started missing going out with him.

Finishing up at your regular hotpot place, you and Xavier were just talking to now.

Before a waiter could come check in, you took your chance,

“Xavier, let’s do half-half.”

You saw the confusion pass on his face,

“Half-half? But we just finished eating, did you want to get dessert? We can do that.”

A laugh escaped you and his face lit up at the sound as well,

“No, I meant let’s pay half-half.”

The man sitting opposite of you furrowed his brows, still not understanding,

“Why? I can pay for us both.”

You shrugged,

“You always do. I feel bad.”

He quickly shut that down, shaking his head,

“Don’t. I like treating you. I want to pay, I’m your boyfriend.”

You smiled at his words, feeling lucky to have such a sweet partner,

“All right. But the offer’s on the table.”

His eyebrows were still drawn together,

“Well, that’s not necessary.”

Before you could say anything else, he got up, heading to the front of the restaurant to pay.

Zayne

Zayne had wrapped up a week of surgeries back to back.

To relax, you two went out to eat.

You were enjoying each other’s company, happy to finally spend some time together.

Once you two were done eating, you told him.

“Zayne, I want to pay half.”

At that, he frowns,

“Please, don’t. I invited you out.”

You cocked your head, looking at him with big eyes,

“You’ve been working so hard, you won’t let me treat you, so at least let me pay half!”

The frown stayed on his face,

“I appreciate everything you do for me but I’m more than happy to pay for you. I insist, actually.”

You flashed him a sweet smile but reached for your purse regardless.

Though, before you could even pull your wallet out, he called a waiter over and handed them his card.

You went to protest but he quickly reached for your hand, intertwining it with his.

“Darling, I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness, but considering how our quality time together is cut short sometimes due to my work, allow me to spend the money I make from my job on you.”

The sincerity reflected in his eyes makes your heart swell.

You nod, defeated, before a mischievous grin comes onto your face,

“Fine then, I’ll just repay you later tonight.”

The tips of his ears turned red and his eyes widened slightly but before he could respond, the waiter returned with his card.

Zayne could barely focus on anything for the rest of the night, you didn’t miss the shy looks he shot you throughout.

Rafayel

A new art exhibition of his work had been published, to celebrate, you two went out tonight.

Rafayel had it all planned out, a candlelight dinner, a lone table on the balcony, just the two of you.

He was having a great time, until you dared to utter the words,

“Let me pay half.”

He looked like you had personally insulted him.

“You’re asking your rich boyfriend who just had a new art exhibition, if you can pay for your own food?”

Letting out an awkward laugh clearly wasn’t the right course of action, as he started again,

“I love you. You know how much I love you. So, why would you ever ask me that. Was that supposed to be a joke? Because I don’t think it’s funny.”

You scratched your head, unsure of how to respond,

“I didn’t know you were so passionate about this…”

He put his hands on the table, leaning over,

“I’m passionate about providing for my lover.”

You felt surprisingly moved by your boyfriend’s, albeit strange, declaration of affection.

Rafayel sighed,

“I might’ve gotten a bit carried away there at the end but my point stands! Don’t even suggest something like that again. I want to give you nice experiences, that doesn’t include you having to worry about paying.”

You rested your chin on your hand, smiling at him softly,

“Thanks, Rafayel.”

He smiled back at you, his eyes glittering as he looked at you,

“One last thing, if I ever accept that, shoot me on that spot. It has to be a clone, can’t be me.”

He didn’t hide the satisfied look on his face as you laughed.

Sylus

You had been gushing about this new restaurant that had opened near your place.

Sylus had taken you there tonight and it lived up to all your expectations.

Seeing your content expression as you munched on your dessert, left him feeling fulfilled.

You two were engaged in a conversation, before you dropped the bomb on him,

“Sy, let’s split the bill.”

He immediately looked offended,

“Why would we?”

Spoon in mouth, you blinked at him,

“It was my idea to come here, it’s only right.”

His eyes narrowed slightly,

“I brought you here.”

You hummed, still not backing down,

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve been paying for everything lately…”

His look of disapproval almost made your lips curl up,

“As I should. Sweetie, what’s the point of having so much money, if not to spend it on you?”

You ate another bite, feeling charmed.

He smirked and you knew he was onto you,

“Also, while I do think it’s sweet you offered, if I’m not mistaken, you didn’t bring your wallet.”

You stilled, spoon midair, before looking up at him, bashful.

You fluttering your eyelashes at him, not answering.

His laugh that sounded like it could buy the whole building brought a cheeky grin to your face.

“You should really try this, it tastes great!”

“Very smooth, kitten.”

Caleb

Caleb finally took his vacation days and you two went on a trip to a nearby town.

It was your last day there and you decided to have a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant.

You were sitting across each other, Caleb was done eating before you, so you made him eat the rest of your food, that you couldn’t finish.

He was listening to you talk with a lovesick look on his face.

You kept yapping until he was almost done eating,

“Alrighty, let’s do 50/50.”

He stopped, eyes flickering up to your face, his smile dropping,

“What do you mean, pips?”

Giggling, you elaborated,

“Let’s split the bill 50/50!”

He squinted at you,

“No.”

You looked taken aback by his blunt response,

“Why not?”

He stacked the plates over one another, before his gaze met yours again,

“For one, I ate half your food. And even if I didn’t, I don’t want you to pay for anything when I’m with you.”

A chuckle left you as you leaned back in your seat,

“You paid for the whole vacation, Caleb. Let me take this one.”

That charming, boyish grin he flashed you caused you to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

He was so good at winning you over,

“I like taking care of you, honey. You’re not paying for anything.”

You sighed,

“You’re too good to me.”

He looked at you, like you had just said something outlandish.

“Yeah, let’s get you three servings of dessert for that. You deserve everything, pipsqueak.”

You whined his name, feeling shy.

He always looked at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

He’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to give you the whole world.

2K notes · View notes

drewsephrry · 2 months ago

Text

Love Island: Episode 4 - Ex Marks the Spot

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.7k

warnings: sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, cuss words

A heavy silence settles over the group as everyone turns to stare at Y/N.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks, his brows furrowing. Y/N swallows, her eyes flicking between the people around her before landing back on the boy hugging Maddy below. She exhales sharply.

“That’s…my ex.”

“Holy shit!” JJ blurts out, earning a smack from John B, who looks just as stunned. Alyssa and Pope are too busy staring at the date happening downstairs, but the rest of the group is locked onto Y/N.

“How long ago did you two break up?” Topper asks, his gaze darting toward Rafe, who is eerily quiet.

“Like a year.” She reveals. Alyssa scoffs, finally looking away from the scene below.

“Crocs? Seriously?” She wrinkles her nose as she gestures toward Kelce’s choice of footwear. Despite the tension twisting in her chest, Y/N finds herself smiling, shaking her head at Alyssa’s reaction. JJ leans forward, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What’s he like?” He pauses, then adds quickly. “I mean, like…you know what I mean.” Y/N shifts on her feet, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s attention. She exhales.

“He’s funny. Loves to travel, so much so that he became a travel agent. He loves soccer. He’s really creative, always took me on the weirdest dates you could imagine.” Her voice softens and without realizing it, a small smile tugs at her lips.

Rafe clenches his jaw. He watches the way Y/N’s expression softens, the way her lips curve when she talks about Kelce. It’s not even what she’s saying, it’s how she’s saying it. There’s a warmth in her voice, a familiarity that Rafe can’t compete with.

It pisses him off.

He shouldn't care. He shouldn’t feel this tightness in his chest at the thought of Y/N and Kelce, of all the time they had before he even entered the picture. He knows it’s stupid. It’s not like she’s his. Not officially, anyway.

But fuck, he wants her to be.

He watches her, torn between wanting to pull her away and hating that he even feels this way in the first place.

When she finally turns back toward him, it’s like she can feel the weight of his stare. Her brows furrow slightly.

“You okay?” She asks, her voice gentle. Rafe forces a smirk.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She studies him for a second longer before nodding.

“No reason.” She doesn’t push and that’s what kills him.

Because maybe, deep down, a part of him wants her to push. To tell him she doesn’t want Kelce anymore, that he has nothing to worry about. That she’s his, even though they’ve never actually said those words out loud.

Instead, he just watches as she looks back toward Kelce, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

And Rafe feels that sharp twist in his chest again.

“Why’d you break up?” John B asks.

“That's not a nice thing to ask.” Sarah nudges him.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/N shakes her head. “We just wanted different things.” John B nods in understanding, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I get that.” He murmurs.

Rafe doesn’t say a word. He barely moves, but Y/N can feel his stare burning into her. His arms are crossed now, fingers gripping his biceps a little too tightly. His gaze flickers between her and Kelce.

The dates finish and soon enough, the islanders head downstairs to meet Kelce. JJ, John B and Pope are the first to approach, radiating their usual friendly, easygoing energy as they introduce themselves. Topper and Rafe follow, but there’s an undeniable shift in the atmosphere. There’s something about the way they move, less welcoming. When Kelce shakes Rafe’s hand, Rafe tightens his grip just a little too much. But Kelce doesn’t even flinch. He holds his ground, just as confident as ever.

The girls follow behind, Kiara’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand as they walk through the flower corridor toward the yard. Sarah steps forward, greeting Kelce with a hug. But when she pulls back, something changes.

Kelce’s wide eyes flick to Y/N.

“No way!” He murmurs. Y/N smiles softly, already anticipating what’s coming.

“Yes way.” She mutters. Kelce doesn’t hesitate as he rushes toward her, sweeping her off the ground in a tight hug. Y/N squeals, clinging to him instinctively. It’s warm, familiar. When he sets her down, his hands linger at her waist and his eyes search hers.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“The right question is, what are you doing here?” She teases, shoving him playfully. Maddy, watching the exchange unfold, furrows her brows.

“Uh…what is going on?” She glances toward Rafe, who still hasn’t moved. His arms remain crossed, jaw visibly tightening.

“That’s Y/N’s ex.” Rafe announces flatly, making Maddy’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“Wait…he is Kelce? Like, Kelce Kelce?” Cleo interjects. “Your ex Kelce?”

Y/N nods.

“You talk about me?” Kelce asks, smirking.

“Oh my god, not like that.” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes as she shoves him again. He stumbles back slightly, clutching his chest in mock offense.

Noticing the tension radiating off Rafe like a ticking time bomb, Pope clears his throat.

“Hey, why don’t we all move to the firepit?” He suggests, trying to redirect the energy. “Let Kelce get to know everyone.”

The group shuffles over, settling in with the boys on one side, the girls on the other and Kelce in the middle.

“So, what do you guys wanna know?” Kelce asks, fiddling with his mic. He’s still getting used to it and Maddy, sitting beside him, leans in to adjust it properly. He shoots her a grateful smile.

“Y/N already gave us the rundown, so I think we’re all set, bro.” JJ says casually.

The moment the words leave his mouth, Pope smacks him.

“JJ, what the fuck?” Kiara hisses, while Y/N lets out a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands.

“What?” JJ rubs his chest, looking genuinely confused. “I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.” Alyssa interjects, rolling her eyes. “Anyway. What are you looking for in the villa?” Kelce exhales, thinking for a second.

“Honestly, this past year’s been a lot of growth for me. I feel like…our breakup really changed me.” He admits, glancing at Y/N.

That gets her attention. She slowly lowers her hands, meeting his gaze. For a second, nobody moves. The world stops spinning.

Then, Rafe clears his throat.

“You, uh…didn’t actually answer Alyssa.” Rafe mutters, scratching the back of his head. Topper lets out a barely contained snicker. Kelce blinks, then nods.

“Right. Right. Okay, yeah. I want something real. A committed relationship. I wanna find my person. Someone I can have fun with, travel with-”

“You’re a travel agent, right?” John B cuts in, smirking and Kelce laughs.

“Yeah. Y/N told you?” He throws her a knowing look before redirecting. “But enough about me. Who’s coupled up with who?”

“I’m with Topper.” Sarah says, glancing at Topper who gives Kelce a brief nod. “Kiara’s with Pope, Cleo’s with John B, Maddy’s with JJ.” She continues. Kelce nods, then looks straight at Y/N.

“And you’re with Rafe?” He asks. Everyone’s gaze lands on her.

“Um…it’s complicated.” Y/N admits, shifting in her seat. “I was coupled up with him and things were going good between us. Still are! But-”

“Alyssa coupled up with him.” Pope finishes for her.

“Guilty!” Alyssa grins, raising her hand. A few chuckles ripple through the group, but Rafe isn’t amused. His gaze stays locked on Y/N, watching the way she keeps sneaking glances at Kelce. The way her fingers fidget. The way she looks at him. He knows that look. It’s the same one that’s been driving him crazy since she first stepped into the villa.

“So, you’re the only single one, huh?” Kelce teases, smirking.

“Kelce…” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

“What? Just stating facts.” He lifts his hands in surrender. Then, his smirk softens into something more thoughtful.

“Listen, I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m moving on, too.” His voice is easy, but there’s something unreadable behind it.

“And hey, this goes for all of you. I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes.” A beat passes. “But, you know…if something’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. That's how the game works.”

Everyone nods and Rafe wonders if he’s the only one who hears the double meaning in those words.

Soon enough, the girls head inside to gossip with Maddy and Cleo about the dates, leaving the boys to get to know Kelce.

“Okay, spill!” Sarah says to Maddy, sitting down on her bed and pulling a pillow to cuddle. Y/N sits beside her, still unsettled by the whole situation.

“I will, but Y/N, are you alright?” Maddy asks and the girls turn to look at her. Y/N glances around like a lost puppy before nodding quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course. Everything is fine. Totally fine.” She exclaims.

“Say it one more time and we might actually believe you.” Kiara says, rolling her eyes. Y/N sighs.

“It's just…this was really unexpected.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “And he just seemed so…mature. So different from back then.”

“Like he grew up?” Cleo asks cautiously and Y/N nods.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s not like we had a messy breakup or anything. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath and Sarah reaches over to hold her hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it. Breakups, even mutual ones, hurt.” Sarah says gently and the girls nod, ready to comfort her.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Y/N reassures them. “When Kelce and I broke up, it felt like my whole world ended. I struggled a lot with being on my own because I was so dependent on him. It took me a long time to find my footing and become the person I am now. And seeing him again like this…it just made me wonder if it was as hard for him as it was for me.” She exhales, pressing her lips together for a moment.

“And not in a bitter way, like, ‘Oh, I hope he suffered.’” She clarifies quickly.

“It’s just…I loved him. I still have so much love for him. But if it didn’t hurt him like it hurt me…if he just moved on without a second thought, then what does that say about what we had? Or-or about me?” She lets the words linger in the air, staring at the blanket bunched up in her lap. The weight of her own thoughts makes her chest tighten.

“I know it’s selfish.” She continues, her voice quieter now. “I want him to be happy, I really do. But there’s a part of me that hopes it wasn’t easy for him. That it meant something. Because if it didn’t…if I was the only one who struggled, then maybe I was just easy to forget.”

The room is silent for a beat before Kiara scoffs, shaking her head.

“Y/N, that’s not how love works.” She says firmly. “Just because someone handles pain differently doesn’t mean they didn’t feel it. He could’ve been hurting just as much, just in his own way.”

“Exactly.” Cleo agrees. “And, honestly? You don’t owe it to your past self to keep wondering. You made it through. That’s what matters.”

Y/N lets their words settle, nodding slowly. She wants to believe them. Wants to believe that just because Kelce looks like he’s moved on, it doesn’t mean what they had wasn’t real. That it doesn’t mean she was the only one who lost something. Sarah gives her hand a small squeeze.

“It’s okay to feel this way. Just, don’t let it take away from how far you’ve come.” She exclaims and Y/N swallows past the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She just wishes it was that easy.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Alyssa asks cautiously. Y/N fidgets with her ring, avoiding their gazes.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

“You don’t have to.” Maddy says quickly. Y/N exhales, forcing a small grin.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can avoid him in here.” She pauses, then backtracks. “Wait, no-I didn’t mean it like I am or was trying to avoid him. Outside of here, I mean.” Sarah chuckles, squeezing her hand.

“We get what you’re saying.” Then she makes a face. “Why is your hand so sweaty, dude?” Y/N jerks her hand back, wiping it on the blanket.

“Oh my god, sorry.” The girls giggle as she huffs dramatically.

“Look, unless he wants to talk, I don’t have anything to say to him.” She continues. “I’m moving on. I have a good thing going with-” She suddenly stops, eyes widening. “Oh my god. Did you see how Rafe reacted?”

The girls immediately nod.

“He was about to explode when he found out.” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“Man, I wish I saw that.” Cleo groans.

“Wait, wait, we’re getting sidetracked.” Y/N says, holding up a hand. “We should really be talking about your dates.” The girls nod in agreement, the conversation shifting as Maddy and Cleo start recounting their dates with Kelce.

“He was so sweet. Like, actually listening to me, paying attention. It just felt different.” Maddy says, playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Ooh, someone’s got a crush!” Alyssa sing-songs and the girls erupt into playful cheers. Maddy rolls her eyes.

“I do not. I just…had a good time, that’s all.” She insists.

“Yeah, okay.” Sarah smirks. “You haven’t looked this excited since we got here. JJ’s never had you smiling like that.”

The girls hum in agreement.

“How are things with JJ, anyway?” Kiara asks, leaning into Alyssa.

“Uh…nice, I guess.” Maddy says, eyes flicking down to her nails.

“Not as nice as with Kelce.” Cleo teases, nudging her. Maddy shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. JJ’s funny, obviously super hot, but…I don’t know, I don’t think we really get each other.” She pauses, thinking. “Kelce, he just got here, but the vibe with him is…different.”

“Good different?” Y/N prompts.

“Really good different.” Maddy admits, nodding. “But I don’t know. I still need to think about it. And for all I know, he had more chemistry with Cleo.”

“Nope.” Cleo says immediately. Maddy raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? How was your date?” She asks and Cleo sighs.

“It was fun. Kelce is handsome and yeah, he’s got charm, but…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. He came off kinda arrogant? Like, it felt like he was showing off and I hate that.”

The girls exchange looks.

“I mean, I’m not writing him off completely.” Cleo continues. “I just wanna see how he acts in the next few days before I decide.”

They all nod, understanding.

“Do what feels right for you. For both of you.” Y/N adds.

Meanwhile, the guys are grilling Kelce, sizing him up as they try to figure out his intentions in the villa.

“So, Kelce, right?” Rafe leans back against the firepit, arms crossed, exuding confidence as he speaks. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s already trying to get a read on him. Kelce nods, offering a relaxed smile, but he knows exactly where this is going.

“Anyone caught your eye? Up till now, at least?” Rafe asks, the question hanging in the air just a second too long. Kelce chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He’s been in enough of these conversations to know what Rafe’s really asking. His eyes flicker toward him, measuring his expression before he answers.

“Look, man, if this is about Y/N, you don’t have to worry. I loved her and I’ll always respect our relationship, but it ended a long time ago. I’m not here to rewrite history or stir anything up. She’s moved on and so have I. Whatever’s going on between you two, that’s got nothing to do with me.” He pauses.

There’s no malice in his voice, no challenge, just honesty. A quiet confidence that says he’s not here to start drama. Whether Rafe believes him, though, is a different story.

“So, if you’re asking whether you should be watching your back, there’s no need to. Not because of me.” Kelce says, his tone even.

Rafe holds his gaze for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied, for now. John B clears his throat, cutting through the tension.

“Alright, but be honest, man. What did you think of the girls? Anyone catch your eye?” He asks, making Kelce chuckle and glance around.

“I mean, they’re all beautiful, no doubt about that.” He says and the guys nod in agreement. “But I had a really great time with Maddy. She’s…man, she’s gorgeous. And funny as hell, too.” His grin widens as he talks about her, the memory of their time together still fresh.

“Cleo’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He continues, his tone shifting slightly. “But something felt a little off during our date. Maybe it was just a bit awkward, I don’t know. Could’ve just been first-date nerves. Time will tell, I guess.”

The boys nod before they decide to show Kelce around the villa.

The night unfolds quickly and soon it’s party time for the islanders. The girls make their way downstairs, glammed up and glowing under the villa lights. As they step into the bedroom where the guys are getting ready, whistles and cheers erupt.

“Damn, looking good, mamas!” Kelce calls out, grinning and the girls laugh, twirling playfully before heading outside.

A table set with champagne flutes awaits them, the warm night air buzzing with energy. They each grab a glass as Topper lifts his in a toast.

“To our newest islander! Hope it’s a good summer for you, Kelso!” He announces, flashing a smirk. Kelce clinks his glass against Topper’s, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Oh, it’s gonna be a great one.” He replies, as the group cheers and takes a sip. Y/N adjusts her dress with her free hand, scanning the scene before her gaze lands on Rafe across the table. Taking a breath, she steps toward him.

“Hey.” She says softly. Rafe looks down at her, his expression unreadable. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything.

“Can we talk?” She asks, her brows furrowing slightly. Rafe exhales, noticing the concern in her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s.” He mutters, placing a hand on her waist as he guides her toward the daybed. They settle beside each other, Y/N’s fingers immediately finding the ring on her hand, twisting it absentmindedly.

“You do know I had no clue he was coming in here, right?” She says, glancing at him. Rafe sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I know. Of course, I know.” His voice is firm but tired. She studies him, hesitating before pressing further.

“Then…can you say something? Tell me how you feel? I just…I don’t know. You’re upset.”

“What do you want me to say?” Rafe snaps, his voice sharper than he intends. “How else am I supposed to feel? Of course, I’m upset.” Y/N exhales slowly, nodding.

“Okay and I get it. But don’t shut me out. You haven’t said a word to me since the terrace.” She drops her gaze, still fidgeting with her ring. Rafe watches her and something tightens in his chest. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His voice softens. “I’m not mad at you. Or him. He actually seems like a decent dude. But…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “The thought of you and him. It's just…knowing he’s been with you, that he knows you like that…” His jaw clenches. “I know I’m probably overreacting or-or that I shouldn’t feel like this. But I can’t help it.”

“You’re not overreacting.” She assures him, shaking her head. “Jealousy is valid.” Rafe cringes slightly at the word, but it’s true.

“I just…” He exhales, his fingers grazing his knee. “I know it’s still early, but I like you, okay? And the idea of another guy, Kelce, being with you, knowing you in ways I don’t yet…It just…it gets to me. And now that he’s here, I can’t help but worry.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N’s response is immediate, her voice steady. “You have nothing to worry about. Truly.” She turns toward him, her eyes sincere.

“Our relationship ended a long time ago and as much as I loved him and still do, in a way, I can’t let myself go back there. We’ve both moved on. I’m moving on. With you, Rafe.”

Rafe swallows, his gaze flickering to her lips before settling back on her eyes.

“Do you mean that?” He whispers. “I mean…do you want that? Moving on with me?” Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smile and she nods.

“I mean it.” She says simply. And just like that, something in Rafe eases.

Rafe studies her for a long moment, searching for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt in her expression. But there’s none. Just quiet certainty, a promise in the way she looks at him.

He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders as he leans back slightly, resting his arm along the back of the daybed. His fingers ghost over her shoulder, not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

“That’s…good to hear.” He murmurs, the weight in his chest loosening just a little. Y/N tilts her head, watching him.

“You don’t sound convinced.” She smirks.

“It’s not that.” Rafe says, shaking his head. “It’s just-” He pauses, rubbing his jaw, before glancing back at her. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. It’s not just about Kelce, it’s…fuck, Y/N. I don’t usually care like this.” She lets out a small breath, lips pressing together as she processes his words.

“And that scares you?” She asks softly and Rafe chuckles dryly, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Maybe a little.”

Y/N shifts closer, their knees brushing.

“I get it.” She admits. “But I don’t expect you to have it all figured out right now. I just need you to talk to me. Let me in instead of shutting me out.” Rafe meets her eyes, his fingers finally settling on her shoulder, his touch light but grounding.

“I’ll try.” He admits and Y/N smiles, nudging his knee with hers.

“Good.”

She inches closer, leaning into him. When she looks up, her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Do it.” Rafe whispers, his voice low and she smirks.

“Do what?” She teases, playing innocent. Rafe pinches her side, making her squeal as she presses in even closer.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He murmurs. Y/N giggles before leaning in, her lips brushing his. Rafe cups her face, deepening the kiss as her hand settles against his chest. When they finally pull back, breathless, she smiles up at him. Her eyes catch the shine on his lips and she instinctively reaches up, wiping away the remnants of her lip gloss.

“So, this is our thing now, huh?” She muses, focused on the task. Rafe chuckles.

“Guess so.” He shrugs. “Not that I care about the whole...lip color thingy.”

“Lip gloss.” She corrects with a smirk.

“That.” He scoffs. “You don’t have to wipe it off every time.” She shakes her head.

“It's not a big deal. Honestly, I should probably just stop wearing it around you.” She exclaims.

“Or just get used to me wearing it, too.” He says, grinning. Laughter bubbles between them, easy and warm, as she tucks herself closer into his side.

Later in the evening, JJ gathers all the islanders around the firepit, his energy buzzing like he’s just thought of the best idea ever.

��I think our new guy over here-” He slings an arm around Kelce’s shoulders “-deserves a proper Love Island welcome.” He grins.

“What do you say, guys? You up for a little ‘Never Have I Ever’?” A chorus of agreement follows, champagne gets poured and John B jumps in to explain the rules.

“Okay, so we’ll go around, say a prompt starting with ‘Never have I ever…’ Like, I dunno, ‘Never have I ever hooked up with my best friend’s sister.’ If you have, you take a sip.” Sarah, sitting beside him, turns to him in horror.

“Wait…was that an example or…?” She asks and John B's eyes widen.

“Example! Just an example!” He explains.

“Mm-hmm, sure.” JJ smirks, topping off his glass.

“JJ-” “Let the game begin!” JJ shouts in a dramatic British accent, earning some laughs.

“Topper, you’re up first.” JJ announces. Topper thinks for a second, then shrugs.

“Never have I ever…smoked a joint?” He asks, making JJ groan.

“Lame, Top. Come on.”

“We should start slow, Jayj.” Kiara reasons and the others nod in agreement.

“Fine, fine.” JJ rolls his eyes and takes a big sip anyway. John B, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, Sarah and Kiara follow suit. JJ glances around.

“Wait-you guys haven’t?”

Y/N, Maddy, Cleo, Pope and Alyssa shake their heads.

“You’re joking.” JJ deadpans.

“Not everyone wants to, you know.” Y/N says.

“But it never even crossed your mind? Just to see what it’s like?”

“Not at all.” She replies.

“She says it reeks.” Kelce chimes in, like he knows her better than her own self.

“Because it does!” Y/N exclaims, making the guys chuckle. Rafe, meanwhile, isn’t laughing. His jaw clenches as his gaze lingers on Kelce a beat too long. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests a hand on his thigh. A subtle squeeze, pulling him out of whatever storm was brewing in his head. Maddy clears her throat.

“Can we move on?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” Topper agrees.

“Okay, um…never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Alyssa asks and drinks from her flute. Most of the islanders take a sip, except for Y/N and Pope. Kelce smirks, turning to Y/N.

“Take a sip.” He nods to the glass on her hand. She blinks.

“But I haven’t.” She replies and Kelce scoffs.

“Julia’s party.” He says making Y/N frown.

“What?”

“The penthouse? The pool? The ‘pretty pink vodka drink’?” He points out and Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.” She exclaims.

“Okay, we need details, like, now.” Sarah claps her hands. Kelce raises a hand dismissively.

“Story for another time.” He nods at Y/N. “Take a sip, Y/N/N.” She does, while Rafe’s jaw visibly tightens, his grip on his glass a little too firm.

“Who’s next?” He asks, clearing his throat. Maddy perks up.

“Me! Okay, never have I ever tried sexting.”

A few people take sips. Kelce meets Y/N’s gaze and smirks before drinking. Y/N stares at the fire as she sips from her glass. Meanwhile, Rafe stares at Kelce. Y/N can practically feel the temperature rising beside her.

“Okay, never have I ever laughed so hard I, um, peed my pants as an adult.” Sarah giggles, before drinking.

Silence.

“And the crowd goes quiet.” JJ says in his British accent. Y/N snorts.

“It’s valid!” She takes a sip, to support Sarah. Rafe tilts his head.

“Wait, seriously?” He asks, in disbelief. She nods.

“It was a hilarious joke, I couldn't help it!” Rafe laughs, wrapping an arm around her.

“I should be disgusted by this.”

“Sorry.” She teases.

“Oh, no, no, don’t be. I’m not. I mean, it’s not, like…hot. But-wait, no, I mean, you’re hot, but-” Y/N chuckles, saving him from himself with a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re cute when you short-circuit.” She points out.

“Come on, lovebirds! We got a game to finish!” Kelce calls out. Y/N sighs. Rafe sucks his teeth, visibly annoyed, gripping his glass a little too tightly. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests her hand back on his thigh.

“Okay! My turn!” Kiara clears her throat, trying to redirect.

The game continues, with Kelce making a point to throw Y/N knowing looks whenever she hesitates to drink. Every time he sips, he conveniently drops a story from their past, like a breadcrumb trail leading back to him.

Y/N, beyond annoyed, fiddles with a loose thread on her dress, until she’s had enough.

“I got one.” She says, sitting up as everyone leans in. Y/N locks eyes with Kelce. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

The girls, every single one, take a sip. The guys burst into hollers, JJ nearly choking on his drink. Kelce’s smirk finally falters, his ego visibly bruised. He clears his throat.

“I think we should stop for the night.” He suggests

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Maddy exclaims, smirking. The game dissolves as the islanders start pairing off for chats, but Rafe? Rafe’s grinning.

‘Cause that's his girl.

to be continued...

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @my-name-is-baby @silkylovey @soincredible

A/N: hope you enjoyed this!!!

1K notes · View notes