#but yeah if it’s too close together and stuff please let me know

[writersrkive]

Don't shut up | Spencer Reid

summary: Spencer is used to people who constantly tell him to shut up, but somehow, he feels even more embarrassed and sad when he thinks you want him to stop talking after looking at the tired and confused expression you have when he's trying to help you. The thing is you hate when people do that to Spence and would spend years just listening to his voice.

genre: fluff

pairing: Early seasons!Spencer Reid x bau!reader

warnings: mentions of the team shutting Spencer down. Derek and JJ being a little mean to him when he's spreading information. Spencer being a cutie potato. Mention of a stomachache and its causes (mention of miscarriage as one of the causes, but nothing happens). Reader not being a native english speaker, but just a slight mention.

a/n: Dr. Spencer Reid is a genius.... I am not. I literally had to search for information and copy-paste here in some parts, so if there's misinformation, it's Google's fault, lmao. I wrote this yesterday when I was about to sleep, so I'm sorry if something is wrong with the writing (even though I already edited). English isn't my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

Spencer and you arrived early that morning. He hated being late for anything. He couldn't afford to be late if he wanted to stick as closely as possible to his assigned schedule, especially because he took public transport. On the other hand, you had no choice but to arrive early when you woke up at four in the morning thanks to a severe stomachache and couldn't go back to sleep.

That's how your conversation started. Your genius workmate was surprised to see you, first hour in the morning, when he walked in the office, even before Hotch arrived.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You couldn't deny that the expression was too cute for your own good.

“Yeah… I think so. It's not even the stomach ache that bothers me, it's the fact that even if I was sleepy, I couldn't fall asleep again. You know? That happens to me a lot. Once I open my eyes, I can't go back to sleep. I've also been feeling mildly unwell for a week, but even though the medication is controlling it, it doesn't stop."

At this point, he already set up his desk, leaving his briefcase on his own chair to walk over to you and sit at your desk, next to the chair you were sitting in, to listen to you attentively and answer.

“The brain works with different phases of sleep: light sleep, deep sleep, and REM sleep. The cycle usually restarts every eighty to one hundred minutes, and we typically have four to six cycles each night.”

Hotch came out of the elevator and walked upstairs after both of you waved at him, and he let out a soft “good morning”. Emily arrived a few seconds later. You greeted her too, as she took place on her desk, but that didn't stop your conversation.

“So, it's completely normal that we wake up in the middle of the night because of that process, but if it is frequent, for three months or more, it may be a symptom of insomnia.”

Your view went to the floor, and your head nodded in a semi-unconscious movement, because although you knew that your sleep cycle was ruined by work, you had not come to that conclusion, maybe that was it.

“Now, the stomachache…” He said, taking one pen from your pencil case to concentrate. He usually never took other people's belongings or shared his own stuff because of the germs, but somehow, after a few years of working together, he had come to have a good amount of closeness with you to borrow some stuff from you. Months ago, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Penelope that Spencer had a box full of pens reserved for you, in case you needed one, nor the fact that he denied JJ one of them once, when the blonde girl needed something to write with quickly.

“The causes can be the most common, such as gas, indigestion, a muscle injury, or stress. Although there are also more serious causes: gastrointestinal infections, inflammatory bowel disease, irritable bowel syndrome, ectopic pregnancy or miscarriage..."

“Wow, what are you trying to do? Scare her?” Derek's voice invaded the place and Emily smirked.

“What? No, I'm just saying the possibilities…” Spencer whispered, looking down, a little worried that he might actually scared the person he cared more, besides his mom.

“It's okay.” You answer loud enough so your friends and coworkers would hear. “Thanks, Spence. I already went to the doctor, so I have none of… those.” I gave him a little smile. “But about stress…” The sentence hung in the air, so Spencer looked up and continued speaking automatically.

“Stress can cause stomach pain because the autonomic nervous system of the gastrointestinal tract reacts to the same hormones and neurotransmitters as the brain. This is because the digestive system is connected to the nervous system, and the enteric nervous system, which is located in the digestive system, is able to send and receive impulses and assimilate emotions.” He started to talk faster.

Your focus on the genius boy and his explanation was sincere, but maybe it was the fact that you didn't rest well, plus the fact that he was speaking too fast and not vocalizing all the syllables, that for a moment your brain didn't process what he was saying.

It was weird. At some point you didn't even hear words, just sounds from his mouth. That didn't happen to you for a really long time because you already had experience with the native speakers, even if english wasn't your mother language. The exhausting feeling of not being able to sleep well was definitely to blame.

While your brain was coming to that conclusion, Spencer could only see your furrowed brow, tense jaw, tilted head, and dissociated look.

“You want me to shut up, right?” That whisper was enough for you to come back to reality. His cheeks were red and his eyes looked a little sad, not to mention the way his mouth formed a line like whenever he felt awkward.

“Yes, please!” Derek answered instead, leaning back in his seat and looking up with his arms outstretched as if he'd had to deal with seven unsubs in the five minutes he'd been there, listening from his place to the information Spencer was giving you.

“Little genius boy got excited… again.” JJ said, looking at some documents in front of her, opening her eyes wide in an expression of tiredness and disinterest.

The young profiler stood up from your desk thinking about returning to his chair, a little embarrassed, but you took his pinky with yours —that way you wouldn't make him feel uncomfortable in case he wasn't in the mood for physical touch, something he refused unless it was you. Again, another special treat—. “Wait. It wasn't like that.” Hazel eyes looked at you intently, still with a bit of doubt. “I'm sorry Spencer. Yes, you got excited, but that's not something bad.”

“It isn't?” He questioned.

“No, but you started to speak fast, and the fact that there are some words that I have a hard time processing in English and I couldn't quite catch what you were saying because I didn't sleep enough, well, that distracted me. Would you mind repeating it again, slower?” This time, you were the one with warm cheeks.

“Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to shut up?” The boy was actually intrigued and a little surprised.

“Why would I want that?” The fact that your teammates often shut Spencer up when he tried to share extra information, or information that he had been asked about, was something you had noticed from the moment you started working with the team. You thought that was rude. You understood that sometimes Spencer got excited, gave information that was perhaps better saved for another time since you were investigating a case, or people could be tired and want silence, but the team either silenced him or made fun of him most of the time. Plus, there weren't many other things you liked more than hearing his voice.

The sweet, soothing tone of his words helped you sleep on the jet after a long case, or made you want to hear more about whatever he was talking about. Feeling like he was sharing with you, a mere mortal, some of the vast knowledge he had was nice.

“I'm always happy to hear whatever you need to say, even if it's about something I don't understand. And, right now, you are helping me a lot, so, please, don't shut up.” The crimson color returned to the tall boy's face, this time not because he was uncomfortable. Your kind and somewhat complicit smile made his heart race, like almost every time he was with you. Spencer knew that no matter how tired he got, he would never shut up if you wanted him to keep talking.

[ram-bles]

Happy Holidays!

With love,

The Tulpar crew.

#: gender neutral reader. romantic. pre-crash. fluff. kisses.

The holidays were near. The main area had garlands made of green plastic and tinsels sparsely hung around, a small water-activated paper Christmas tree growing in the middle of the dining table, and a bright red Christmas hat on Polle's ear. It wasn't much, but at least festive enough to feel some semblance of home. Though, one day, an additional piece of decor had been added by the entrance of the lounge.

[ Anya ]

You two were on break, folding and snipping away. The medical bay was filled with both your chattering, accompanied by gasps, giggling, and more as you both gossiped about stuff back on Earth— occasionally, some rumors about your co-workers too. Before you know it, you two were unfurling the last pieces of paper snowflakes.

"You think this is enough?"

"Yeah!"

With exchanged grins, both of you gathered the newly made decor and made your short trip towards the lounge, continuing the chat from beforehand. When the door slides open, you were both silenced by Daisuke pointing above your heads. In sync, you and Anya's eyes trailed from the intern, to the Captain beside him that gave you both a wave, then to the mistletoe, then to each other with a matching tint of red on both your cheeks.

Anya's hand covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, and yours held your own cheek. It was silent for a quick moment which scared the other two, but you both started a giggling fit.

"You don't hafta do it if you don't want to!"

"Nono, it's okay. I promise. C'mere." Anya reassures you immediately.

You lean in and so does she, planting a kiss on both sides of your cheek and then a peck on the lip.

[ Curly ]

After convincing your Captain, he agrees to discreetly make a cake for a small holiday dinner. With a not-so discreet 'Yes!' from you, he chuckles and shakes his head. Whatever makes you happy.

But that means you have to help, which isn't much of a problem to you anyways. It's just shoving packets into a machine that automatically makes it, so it's not that big of a chore. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to spend time doing something together with you.

"Alright, doll. Let's go make your cake."

Beaming, you followed just beside him. He finds it endearing how quickly it is to please you.

The door opens and something taps his forehead, making him stop, and you as well, following his gaze.

"Cheeky." He exhales from his nose as he smiles. "You put this here?"

"No, but are you giving me a kiss?"

He looks around, body leaning back to check at the hallway again before he returns to you. His fingers gently held your chin, tilting your head up and closing in. Curly presses his lips against yours, once, twice, and a last one for good measure. The man couldn't wipe the grin off of his face afterwards even if he tried to.

[ Daisuke ]

GRUMBLE.

From where you were comfortably resting and spectating his gameplay, his stomach roars at you, the sound twice as loud with your ear pressed against it.

"Wanna eat?" Your hair scrunches at your temple as you faced him.

"Mm. Almost done." The sounds of hard plastic tapping grew louder and faster as he speedran through the level. A soft mechanical tune plays as he finishes it and he throws his tiny console to the side of his pillow. Grunting, he sits up as your head rolls onto his lap. Daisuke scoops his hand behind your head to help you sit up as well, both of you stretching and leaving the bed. It was the end of the day after all, you both couldn't help but be lazy with how tiring the shift was today.

Upon successful collection and opening of canned foods, you sat on the counter to watch your partner in crime punch some numbers into the machine that popped out sweetener packets. It's impressive to you, managing to convince the captain for some of it so he could find out what the code was and memorize it.

"Got it!" He raises the two pink packets with a grin and tilting his head towards the door. "Let's go?"

With a nod, you hop off the surface and made your way back to your shared sleeping quarters when you noticed an object at the top of your peripheral. You stop on your tracks, nudging his side and nodded your head since your hands were full, gesturing at the mistletoe and pointing with your mouth.

"Pucker up, babe." He grins, energy suddenly coming back to him.

"You can just kiss me whenever you wanted to. You didn't have to sneak that in."

"Didn't put it up there, chief."

"Then who?"

With a shrug, he winks at you. "Dunno. Beats me!"

[ Jimmy ]

His mood was sour the whole day and he always beats around the bush when you try to ask about it. So, you resort to the other option-- giving him space. Oh, but that only made his mood worse. He's thinking you were ignoring him now.

It's been frustrating, you didn't know what to do about it either, so you decided to ask Curly for some advice. But that still makes everything worse! Jimmy saw you talking to Curly too and it made him even more irrationally upset, somehow resorting to a conclusion that now you don't want him, so you're going for Curly.

Jimmy then devised a plan. Making sure to chat with you and Curly in order to keep you both by the dining table, long enough so that the other three would head back to their designated quarters and unfortunately for him, he needed to be a chatterbox like you guys.

But hey, it worked, right?

That's when he suddenly had to excuse himself and asked you for some help. Agreeing, you both went on your way to exit the lounge when his arms hook around your waist, planting a kiss on your lips and you let out a surprised noise. Jimmy made sure Curly was looking too.

"Jimmy, not here!"

"Hey, I'm just following tradition." He points up at the mistletoe above your head with a smug grin.

[ Swansea ]

Another sigh escapes your lips and you hear Swansea put down a screwdriver.

"Alright, what's botherin' ya this time?"

You shift from Swansea's chair, twirling it slightly as you readjust your position so that you could rest your head on your palm. "Don't you miss celebrating the holidays?"

He seems unamused but you notice his demeanor change ever so slightly. With a huff he responds. "You get used to it up here." He takes another tool and continued tinkering.

Swansea could see you deflate from his peripheral vision. There was a moment of silence when he spoke up, not looking away from his work. "There's a box beside the birthday shit. If you could fix it before I finish here then I'll help you put it up. Deal?"

Beaming, you hopped out of the chair, rushed over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out.

"Thanks, Swans."

Fortunately for you, it wasn't a hard fix anyways. One of the wires connected to the battery holder was snapped off and all it needed was a little soldering.

Safe to say you did finish before him.

Excitedly, you helped him clean up and you both headed for the lounge. This was nice, you'd proudly say it if you had to and Swansea felt the same albeit never admitting it. Idly chatting about stuff back home as you hung up the lights. Swansea seemed to be having fun talking about his kids as well, going on about their holiday shenanigans whenever he got the luxury to come back home during these seasons. Surprisingly, the lights were long enough to decorate the wall behind Polle, even blending nicely into the garlands.

"Let's call everyone to eat now?"

"Alright."

You were walking towards the door when you notice it, grabbing Swansea's wrist as he turns back. Before he scolds you, you point up at the mistletoe above the both of you.

"I'm too old for this shit."

"C'mon, Swans! Just this once, please!"

You hear another defeated sigh from him when he suddenly holds you and dips you as you kissed. When you both finish, he raises your hands, twirling you and landing another kiss onto your knuckles that got you speechless.

"Hah. Still got it."

[aeyn]

An angel disguised in pink!

Aged up! No curse AU!Megumi Fushiguro x Jirai Kei! Reader

Summary : Megumi just turned 21, and has already received an invite from Gojo Satoru - to go drinking. It's Gojo, after all. He's seeing faces he vaguely remember from college, but fresh faces were uncommon, even in a Gojo party. You, dressed like an angel in pink, piqued his interest.

WARNINGS : people getting DRUNK, you can tell i've never been to a party and drank, mentions of addiction to host clubs, a smudge of angst maybe if you squint really hard, mostly fluff though

Word count : 1.4K (it's so short!!)

AUTHORS NOTE!!: Hello everyone... I started writing this like yesterday and wasn't aware today was his actual birthday..... ALSO this is my first time writing and i'm not 100% in my english..!! I'm not familiar with posting on tumblr as a whole, so with the layout and all that, i'm not quite familiar. Please give me some leeway with that kind of stuff. also, my laptop kind of broke while i was trying to post this, so im typing this from my touchscreen ipad. It's a little annoying, but oh well..

This was also LIGHTLY inspired by @lokissweater 's mlb megumi... i know its not anything close to their levels of writing, but i was kinda inspired to write megumi for my Landmine reader from her and how she writes Megumi.

I talked too much, i'll just let you read it already ^^"...

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The club Megumi found himself in wasn’t particularly big, but it buzzed with energy. The space was packed with familiar faces—classmates, acquaintances, and a handful of people he’d crossed paths with at one point or another. As soon as he’d turned 21, Gojo had dragged him along to this club, boasting about it being owned by one of Geto’s many “connections.” What Gojo failed to mention was that it was a private party. Not that it mattered much; Megumi realized he wasn’t exactly out of his element.

Most of the crowd blurred together as people he vaguely recognized, but there were a few exceptions. Two were Shoko’s friends, chatting animatedly by the bar. The third was a girl—you—whom Megumi didn’t recognize at all. The strobe lights bathed the room in eye-numbing neon green, but even through the haze, the soft pink of your blouse stood out.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and when your eyes met, you offered a small, awkward smile accompanied by a polite nod. Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks warming with the faintest blush—thankfully hidden by the poor lighting. Still, he managed a curt nod in return, stiff and reserved as ever.

Nobara, watching the interaction from her spot by the bar, smirked to herself. She’d invited you along partly because she knew you enjoyed the club scene, but mostly because an idea had begun forming in her head. You… and Megumi… Yeah, that had potential.

While most of the party (including a very drunk Gojo and Shoko) had taken over the dance floor, Megumi stayed firmly planted at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed. He sighed, his gaze flicking between the reckless dancing and his untouched canned beer.

Adults.

Gojo, currently in a drunken dance battle with Itadori, was reason enough for Megumi to swear off drinking tonight. Witnessing the sheer level of intoxication his mentor had achieved was enough to keep him sober.

Lost in thought, Megumi didn’t notice you approach until he felt the chill of a bottled green tea press against his arm. He startled slightly, turning to find you standing beside him, a tentative smile on your face.

“Figured you might want this. You didn’t touch your beer all night,” you said, holding out the tea.

For a moment, he just blinked at you, caught off guard. Then, taking the bottle, he muttered a quiet, “Thanks. Uh…”

“Oh, right. Um, I’m Y/N.” You dug into your pink MCM bag before pulling out a similar bottle of green tea for yourself.

“So… you’re not a fan of alcohol?” you asked, idly adjusting the lace on your skirt.

Megumi shrugged, taking a sip of the tea. “Not when Gojo’s around. Someone’s gotta stay sober enough to drag him home.”

“Fair enough. He does seem… like a lot.” You cast a concerned glance at the “honored one” himself, doing the Worm on the floor.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Megumi said, the corners of his lips lifting subconsciously. For the first time, he felt like he was actually enjoying himself that night.

A comfortable pause settled as you both observed the other guests.

“You’re… friends with Nobara, right?” Megumi turned his attention to Nobara, who was on the dance floor with a cocktail in hand, her face flushed red from the alcohol she’d ingested, and a feather boa draped across her shoulders like something out of a ’90s movie.

“Yeah. She dragged me along tonight. Said it’d be fun. And I just figured I’d come over and say hi since you looked kind of… out of place.” You laughed softly, his plain shirt and baggy jeans a stark contrast to the vibrant, flashy outfits in the room.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a small sigh, running a hand through his hair he hadn’t cared to style.

“A little. You’re the only one here who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I’m just not big on crowds. Or neon lights. Or drunk people.”

Another moment of silence passed as you nodded in understanding, observing the dance floor growing even more chaotic.

“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” Megumi said, cocking his head toward the unfolding disasters (Geto spilling his drink onto a very pissed-off Nanami).

“I, uh, I’m used to the nightlife. I used to frequent a lot of bars and nightclubs.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Used to? You don’t anymore?”

You hesitated for a moment, swirling the green tea bottle in your hands. “Not as much, no. I… got addicted at one point, I guess. I was filling a void in myself. But I realized it wasn’t healthy.”

Megumi’s expression softened, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to curiosity. “Addicted?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Not just clubs—host clubs, mostly. I’d go out all the time, spending way too much money just to be around people who’d tell me what I wanted to hear. For a while, I thought it was fun, but… I guess I was filling a void. They hook you in, you know? They leave you alone, and when you start getting desperate, you spend more.”

He frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Host clubs?”

You glanced at him, gauging his reaction, and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know. It’s not the most… admirable thing. But when you’re feeling empty, it’s easy to get addicted to the attention. They make you feel special, even if it’s just an act.”

Megumi took a moment to process your words, his gaze steady but without judgment. “What made you stop?”

You smiled faintly, your expression a mix of self-awareness and vulnerability. “I realized it wasn’t real. I was paying for affection, not earning it. And honestly? It wasn’t making me happy—it was just a distraction. So I quit and started focusing on myself. It’s not easy, but… I’m trying.”

He nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “That… takes a lot of self-awareness. Most people wouldn’t even admit they were doing it to fill a void.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks. I’m not sure if it’s self-awareness or just running out of money.”

That earned a soft chuckle from Megumi, and for the first time that night, the tension between you eased.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus. “You don’t seem like the type to… well, pay for attention.”

He leaned against the wall, thinking. “Not really my thing. I guess I’ve always been more focused on the people I already care about.”

You nodded, impressed by his grounded perspective. “Must be nice. Knowing you’re enough without needing to hear it from someone else.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I think everyone needs to hear it sometimes. Just… not in that way.”

A quiet moment passed between you, the chaotic energy of the club fading into the background.

Finally, you broke the silence with a teasing smile. “So, if clubs aren’t your thing, what is? What would you do for fun?”

“Honestly?” Megumi said, his lips quirking in a rare smile. “Probably stay home with a book or go to a quiet park. Somewhere peaceful.”

You grinned, leaning closer. “A book and a park? You’re a walking cliché.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t seem annoyed. “And you’re not, Miss ‘Host Clubs for the Guys’?”

“Touché,” you said, laughing softly. “But hey, if you ever get curious, I can recommend a few places.”

“Pass,” he said, shaking his head, but the amusement in his voice made it clear he wasn’t dismissing you.

“Your loss,” you teased, taking another sip of your tea. “But seriously, thanks for not judging me. Most people wouldn’t be so… understanding.”

He looked at you, his expression earnest. “Everyone’s got their reasons.”

Your chest tightened slightly at his words, and you found yourself smiling in a way you hadn’t in a long time. “You’re a lot deeper than I expected, Megumi.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was warmth in his tone.

And just like that, the club felt a little less overwhelming, and the two of you felt a little more connected. Fein by Travis Scott played in the background of the packed bar at 1:23 a.m. Gojo and Geto slumped over each other groggily as the alcohol took its toll. Itadori darted around, still inexplicably full of energy, while Nobara stood barefoot, heels in hand, complaining to Maki. 

Somehow, amidst the chaos, this moment felt peaceful.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(I hope everyone liked this... I probably will write a continuation or maybe make it a series when i have the time to.)

[numba1ma]

Sooo.. How old is each of your sons???????????

Oh? Why ya askin? Ya wanna know if they’re single too? Some of em are!

Oh I’m pullin ya leg!

So Henry, my first, is gonna be 31 in a couple months. My oldest baby!

Johnny, my second oldest, is turnin 30 next month!

My sweet boy Ralphie is 29 and Lenny is 28 but only 5 months younger than Ralphie!

Benny is 27 and the twins, Ernie and Andy are 26.

My little man Jeremy is 24!

That’s all my boys! Little monsters when they were younger but I love each of them so much. They need to call me more.

[peppermintack]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[arminsumi]

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[anundyingfidelity]

ESCAPADE — Logan Howlett

Summary: For a weekend, you and Logan decide to travel away from the school. Needless to say, you can't keep your hands off each other.

Pairing: Established Logan x female mutant reader. Also teacher!reader at Xavier's school. Set after DoFP ending where everyone is alive because I say so, but can be read however you want lol.

Warnings: pure smut, unprotected p in v, sex at a motel, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, all the smutty stuff.

Notes: main language is not English, but hope you enjoy this filthy drabble. I need him to rail me so bad, bye.

GEN MASTERLIST!

God, he missed this so fucking much.

Logan groans, hands grabbing tightly your hips as you fuck yourself on top of him. Your ass against his skin every time you lower down to impale on his cock, over and over.

The sight is just completely perfect, holding yourself against his abdomen, back against his chest as he rests by the head of the bed.

And shit, he loves to hear you so damn much. Hear you whimper, moan, and sigh with every thrust he gives up to meet your flesh. He even would love to see your tits bouncing in front of him...

“Fuck, yes!”

That sweet out-loud moan leaving your lips causes him to pick up the pace. Your praise never fails to make him go feral, going rough and faster than before.

“Shit, right there- fuck! Feels so good!” Your pussy walls welcoming his cock, glistening with your arousal every time he almost pulled completely outside your hole.

It was your second day in that same motel room, fucking like animals. This wasn’t the plan at all when you originally left the mansion. Both of you just needed to be away at least for a couple of days to have time for yourselves, far from everything and everyone. You wanted to have an actual trip with nice dates, good food, and see the city, but the short time you two had was enough to just have you there on the bed, round after round. He missed your sweet sounds, that dirty side of you when no one was around. How you’d let him rail you as he pleased.

This is all he wanted. It is all he needs right now. You, on top of him, spread and ready for his cock to fuck your guts all day and night.

“Shit, you’re right there already again?” he grunts, feeling himself squeezed by your cunt.

He knows you’re close. And you just came again a couple of moments ago. Neither of you is counting how many times you already came as he fucked you. You whimper again, biting your lip and scratching his skin with your nails.

“Yeah, you there again,” he chuckles with that raspy voice. Immediately, his hands take you by the back of your knees, accomodating you on his lap. You yelp and stop for a second, letting him guide you again. Logan doesn’t give you a moment to get adjusted to new angle, instead thrusting up and fucking you so good that he knows the whole place is now aware of what is happening inside your room.

“I love how you feel around me,” he bites the shell of your ear as you arch your back, head on his shoulder, feeling a sweet release hitting you. “So fucking warm and wet, always ready for me…”

His voice does things on you and finally, your legs start shaking, pussy throbbing around his still hard cock.

“Shit-shit-oh!”

You try to close your thighs together but he does such a great job on keeping you spread for him, your hands are on his wrists trying to keep him away, but as much as you are a mutant yourself, Logan is too fucking strong even for you. You feel that familiar sting on your belly, crying out loud due to the overstimulation. The sensation is everywhere, taking upon your senses.

“Fucking come around me, baby,” Logan hisses, hips stuttering before finally spilling inside you with a low grunt, filling you up to the brim. His thrusts slow down, just enough to make sure you take his hot seed inside your cunt.

And then, in the aftermath, he leans against your cheek, placing soft kisses and mumbling against your ear as you take it all.“Yeah, that’s it… Such a good girl…”

“That was so good,” you mumble, angling your face so you finally kiss him, slow and wet, until he softens inside you. The feeling of his beard burns your skin deliciously every time you kiss. “Tired already?” you tease with a smirk once your lips are apart.

But he is thrusting into you softly again. You moan but smile back at him.

“Y’know I never grow tired of you, I might have to show you again, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, teasingly.

“With pleasure.”

He grunts in response. If only you had more time...

[cobaltperun]

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do a bottom Tara x top g!p female reader fic?!

where Tara and reader are dating but when sam finds out she forbids reader to come over to their apartment the only time they see each is in college. So T and R are texting 24/7 and one evening things get a little spicy like they start sexting ig sending stuff too each other (if you get what I mean) then Tara decides to sneak out because she's missing reader (vice versa) and goes to reader's apartment and they do it for the first time also could it be soft smut and some aftercare maybe. It's just T and R being gay af!

You don't have to do this btw thanks either way!Bye have a good day/night :)

Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P Female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 4.9k

“You are what?!” the scream Sam let out echoed through the apartment making absolutely everyone present, you and Tara included, flinch. This was not the reaction you hoped for, though Tara did warn you it would probably be like this. You had no idea how bad it would get.

“We are dating,” Tara repeated and you could tell by the way she reached out and grabbed your hand that she desperately needed to feel your touch to calm down. How could Sam not see that? See beyond the fact that she herself didn’t know you?

“Absolutely not! Tara you met her what? A month ago?” Sam was not accepting this at all. You could see the fury in her eyes as she looked at you as if you immediately threatened to hurt her sister. You knew what the reason was and you definitely couldn't blame her for it. But it still hurt to see she didn't trust Tara's judgment. Tara was an adult. She went through even more than Sam did and she just wanted to live her life, which included falling in love and dating, and you hoped one day moving in with you so you could build your future together.

Yeah. You were whipped.

“Four months, actually,” Tara rolled her eyes. The two of you met in college on the first day. You sat next to each other and immediately got along and fast forward three months, some time after she had opened up to you about how she was attacked and nearly killed by one of her closest friends, she just asked you out and you accepted it. You definitely developed a crush on her a lot sooner than that, and while that wasn't important at the moment you really believed Tara knew that all along. She just had a way of knowing just how you felt about her, in her own words, you were an open book in her eyes.

“That's not nearly long enough,” Sam pointed the finger at you, the fury in her eyes not fading even slightly.

“Hey, Sam wait!” Tara tried to stop her sister, but it was too late.

“Out right now. If I ever see you close to Tara things will not end well for you,” you had no doubts about just how serious Sam was and you saw Tara’s jaw dropping.

“What the fuck Sam?!” Tara screamed at her sister and quickly turned to you as you got up. “No this isn't what I want!” she jumped to her feet after you and stepped in front of you. “Hey, just listen to me, this isn't what I want,” it hurt you to see her like this, in pain and afraid, and her eyes already filling with tears.

For the first time since you came to the apartment you glared at Sam.

“Come on Sam give it girl a chance,” Chad tried to get her to see reason but a single glare shut him down.

“I will not risk Tara's safety,” Sam would not listen, in fact, she stood up as if to show you the way out. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Tara grabbed onto your hand to keep you from leaving, tears were falling down her face.

“I don't want this, please,” her hands trembled as she said that and for a moment you stopped glaring at Sam.

Your eyes softened and you gently brushed the tears off Tara’s face. “I know you,” whispered and leaned down to kiss her, Sam be damned. Tara relaxed into the kiss, realizing you weren’t going to leave her, and she kissed your back and poured all of her love into that one single kiss. When you separated you turned to Sam returning her glare without flinching for a single moment.

Sam was intimidating there was no doubt about it, but this was a lot more important. “You can try all you want, Sam, you will not scare me away. Got it? Drop the protective big sister bullshit because no one gets to make my girlfriend cry. Not even you,” the temperature in the room dropped when you said that and you could tell everyone just got on the verge of running away and you could not blame them.

Sam looked even more furious, she looked ready to spit fire and rain hell upon you, but you stood your ground. And to make your defiance even more clear you stepped around Tara and faced her sister head on with nothing blocking her path.

Sam remained silent for now, just glaring at you and you nodded, feeling like this ended about as well as it could. “Glad that's clear, I’ll see you later Sam,” you made your point clear, there was no reason to stick around because hanging out with Tara at this point, in this situation and in their apartment wouldn’t do any good for anyone, you and Tara especially.

~X~

She absolutely won the lottery. She would never try to even purchase a ticket because all her luck was just spent on getting the most amazing, badass girlfriends she could ever hope for. Did the way you talked back to Sam make her wet? Yes, yes it did.

Would she have gone to her room to handle that if everyone else still wasn’t at the apartment? Yes, she would have.

Would she do it tonight? Absolutely.

~X~

After what happened last week you and Tara kept seeing each other only at college, and that, more often than not, led to both of you just ditching the classes and getting coffee and croissants from a local bakery you both loved to visit. You did not expect that single decision to haunt you for the rest of the week. You both thought you were just that slick about it as you skipped several classes over the past week just so you spend time together and act like an actual couple instead of two people hiding from the world.

The world in this case being Tara's sister.

If Tara started failing classes because of her absence, well, that would be entirely on Sam.

~X~

Tara should have seen the trouble coming from a mile away. She just had too much fun today, walking with you in the park, grabbing breakfast, you even managed to catch a movie, and it was actually a good one! And to make things even better Tara couldn't keep her hand away from your own, constantly holding it as you went from one place to another.

And then the world just turned against her. She opened the doors and saw Sam expecting her with a stern look on her face, and arms crossed, sitting at the table in the kitchen.

She was in so much trouble.

“You were with her, weren't you?” well she couldn't exactly confess, so she would at least try to deny it. What were the chances that Sam had an actual proof Tara skipped classes with you?

“We were catching up on some lesson we missed, so classes got extended,” Tara lied a bit easier than she thought she would, but she figured the habits she picked up on while she was living with her mother were difficult to get rid of.

“Do not lie to me, Tara!” she flinched at Sam’s shout. “I went to pick you up and you weren't there. And when I asked your classmates if you even came to the classes, they told me neither of you showed up today!” Tara was caught pretty much red-handed and Sam knew it.

Tara sighed and sat down across the table. “You can't expect me to break up with her, Sam. I love her!” she was getting frustrated by Sam's behavior. Why couldn't her sister just let her go, just let her live her own life.

“Tara, you don't love her, you don't even know her properly! She could be dangerous,” this paranoia had to stop, because Sam saw everyone that tried to approach Tara as an enemy, as someone Tara needed protection from.

“Sam do you hear yourself?” Tara couldn’t deal with it anymore. “We are living with Quinn and she keeps bringing random guys to the apartment! Any one of them could be as psycho that just gets up one night and kills all three of us. You don't know those guys, yet you let Quinn bring them along!” Terra pointed out, exasperated by Sam not being able to see logic in her words, more importantly she was furious because Sam wouldn't trust her judgment.

She knew you. She had complete trust in you. And she got betrayed in a worse way than Sam did, after all while Richie was Sam’s boyfriend, Amber has been Tara’s friend for over a decade by that point.

“That isn't how Ghostface works and you know that,” Sam argued back. Ghostface this, Ghostface that. Tara was getting sick of it.

How could Sam not see it? “Ghostface isn't the only psycho, Sam! I can't live my life fearing that anyone I meet is going to turn out to be a psychotic killer. I want to live Sam, I fell in love and I want to enjoy that! I want to be with Y/N!” she desperately hoped Sam would just for once listen to her.

Yet Sam acted like a broken record. “We don't know her,” and Tara knew it wouldn’t matter how long you spent trying to get Sam’s trust. Sam would never know you ‘well enough’, Sam wouldn’t even try to get to know you.

“So what? I'm just supposed to fall in love with Chad? Because who else is left?” Tara demanded, but she might as well be talking in an entirely different language.

“This conversation is over, you’re grounded for a week,” Sam stood up and stormed into her room, leaving utterly flabbergasted Tara alone.

What a great way to spend the week off from classes.

~X~

Five days, that’s how long this torture’s been going on and Tara felt like she was about to lose her mind. And she was supposed to last an entire week?! The remaining two days felt like they would never end because each day seemed to drag out more than the previous one, even witconstant texting between the two of you. She turned in her bed for what felt like the hundredth time and her bed showed it. Messy twisted blanket, crumpled sheets, her head resting only on the corner of her pillow as she once again got on her back and stared at the ceiling. Sam was being unfair. Mindy had Anika, her and Sam were living with Quinn, who they didn’t know beforehand, and Tara was sure Sam had something going on with that Danny guy, and Chad was also occasionally flirting with girls! She was the only one who couldn’t have what she wanted.

Her phone buzzed and she immediately scrambled out of the blankets to take it. Curse her battery for needing to be charged! Tara quickly unlocked her phone and saw the message was from you.

Y/N: You need to see this!

Underneath it she saw the cutest Instagram reel of a puppy surrounded by ducklings.

Tara: 😍😍😍 They are so cute!

Your answer was immediate.

Y/N: Not as cute as certain someone, but it’ll have to do 😉

Tara fell back on her bed, a ridiculously wide smile already making its way to her face. Fuck, she missed you so much. ‘Yeah? Certain someone?’ she replied and her breath hitched when you sent her a selfie wearing a very soft looking shirt and grinning at her, and all of that could be manageable, if only Tara’s eyes didn’t immediately go to your lips and she realized it’s been way too long since she got to kiss you. She needed to feel your lips on her own, on her neck, on… fuck, what if you went lower. She bit her lower lip, studying your face, imagining your smiles, the way you looked at her.

Y/N: Tara? Baby? You’ve left me on seen for five minutes

That message temporarily snapped her out of her daydreaming. Or would it be nightdreaming? She never really thought of the logic behind the word. And she was desperately trying to ignore the desire gradually, scratch that, rapidly building inside of her.

Tara: I miss you

She finally replied and glanced back at your selfie as you typed the response.

Y/N: I kiss you too

Y/N (edited): I miss you too

Tara burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. ‘I saw it! Can’t take it back!’ she replied only to barely hold her laughter back when you just replied with ‘Shit.’ She smiled fondly, taking pity on you.

Tara: I want to kiss you too, so, so bad. I keep thinking about it and other things all the time

There, she confessed, knowing you were still prone to getting embarrassed and all shy about how affectionate Tara could get. Randomly kissing your cheek or hugging you when she knew you least expected was easily her favorite thing to do. The clear embarrassment on your face and the hitched breath, and especially the way you would freeze for a moment kept Tara entertained.

You had your own ways to mess with her, though she suspected you weren’t doing it on purpose. You would just go ahead and pull her chair out for her to sit, or bring her favorite coffee along when you would meet up and it was really messing her up to feel so cared for after years of neglect. It was yet another reason why she was so mad at Sam because she feared she wouldn’t be able to forgive her sister if Sam’s suspicious nature chased you away.

Y/N: Other things?

Hook, line, and sinker.

Tara opened her camera and switched to video. She winked at it and then turned it lower, to her waist, making sure to capture every detail as she unbuttoned her jeans and just brushed her fingers over the zipper, taunting you. She slowly panned the camera up her body while trailing the path with her hand. “Other things,” she was well aware of the sliver of her skin the camera caught when she pushed her shirt up. “Very specific things,” she whispered as seductively as she could, which, well, she didn’t have experience with seducing people, but she knew she’d get the desired effect with you as her hand brushing between her breasts moved the shirt in a way that emphasized her cleavage. And then she returned the camera to her face to show you she was lightly biting the corner of her lower lip.

She didn’t hesitate one moment before sending it.

You saw the message immediately, yet you didn’t respond, and Tara may have been stuck between getting nervous and completely confident in her charms. Minutes later she finally saw you typing.

Y/N: Tara

She could hear the exasperation in your message, yet she just sent ‘Yes, Baby? ���’

Y/N: Look at you acting all innocent

Yeah, she knew she was being rather mischievous. Even more so when she just replied with: ‘But I am all innocent’ she waited a moment, imagining you rolling your eyes and not immediately noticing the word play.

Tara: All innocent and inexperienced, just waiting for you to touch me

She put her phone under her shirt and took a photo, making sure there was just enough light to tease the details of her bra and sent it to you.

Your reply made her squeeze her thighs together. You sent her another photo, this time of you in front of a mirror, your hand covering the bulge in your pants and Tara caught herself wondering, and not for the first time, how big you were.

“Don’t tease me,” she sent you a voice message, whining as she cupped her breast, as her mind created the images of you taking her, fucking her. Instead of a message you actually called her and she resisted cursing because she was about to unzip her jeans and slip her hand inside. “Hey,” she whispered, trying to figure out if she could still do it.

“I’m teasing? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” your voice sounded strained an she knew you were in just as much of a dilemma as she was, only you seemed to be stronger than her, because if she didn’t do something about the lust she felt she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

“I know,” she admitted, biting back a moan as she slipped her hand into her jeans and teased her pussy over her panties. Fuck, she was already wet. “Y/N,” if only you were here with her, touching her, fucking her. “Are you hard?”

“What do you think?” you replied and she knew the answer. “I haven’t seen you in five days and the first thing you send me is that fucking video,” oh, you were cursing. She really got to you and you were definitely getting to her as she pushed her panties aside and slid her fingers through her wet folds.

“You started it,” Tara tried to defend herself.

“It was an innocent selfie!” you exclaimed just as she brushed the tip of her finger over her clit.

“Fuck, if we don’t stop neither of us will be innocent by tomorrow morning,” she moaned into the pillow, stuck between the urge to make herself cum and just sneak out and go to you.

“Shit, maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she could hear the faint sound of you stroking your cock and probably would have wondered if you could hear her too, but more importantly she made her decision.

“I’ll be there in ten,” she absolutely despised herself for pulling her hand out of her jeans and ending the call, but she would quickly get rid of that feeling, she just needed to get to you first.

~X~

You met in front of your apartment with Tara immediately jumping into your arms and kissing you, and you found yourself being pushed against the wall next to your doors as she deepened the kiss. “Fuck, finally,” she groaned, pressing her body against yours. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, and you felt her grinding against you, not even waiting to get inside.

The effort it took to actually slow down and take her to your bedroom should be studied, but you couldn’t let your first time be rough and quick. No, Tara deserved a lot more than that. “Easy, Tara, let’s just go inside,” you barely put your hand over your mouth to quiet the moan when she nibbled on your neck.

“I need you,” she whined, but allowed you to pull her into the apartment and toward the bedroom.

“I know, I know, I need you too,” you confessed, uncomfortably hard, and it only got worse when Tara pushed you onto the bed and straddled your lap. “But we can take as much time as we want, just take it slow and enjoy our first time instead of rushing through it.”

She felt it when she jumped into your arms, and now that she was straddling your lap. This was what she wanted for so long, yet now that she was looking at you the words you spoke echoed through her mind. Yeah, she would really enjoy that, just taking things slow for once. Slow and steady.

She leaned down, kissing you softly as she brushed her fingers over the fabric of your shirt, reaching up to your shoulders and squeezing lightly when you wrapped your arms around her. “You sure you’ll be able to hold back,” she asked when she pulled back, you were very hard after all.

You ran your fingers through her hair and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not holding anything back,” you promised and kissed her again. Your lips felt so soft, and Tara moaned, she truly missed this feeling. You slid your hand down to her neck and Tara let out a shuddering sigh as she lifted her head up and made it easier for you to kiss her neck. This was good, this was familiar. Making out with you always left her needy and this time wasn’t an exception as she felt the heat pooling in her core. “Y-Y/N,” she whimpered when you bit her neck slightly, just the way she liked it and Tara slowly began grinding on you. “Just like that,” she whispered as you dragged your tongue up her neck, soothing the burning skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you were mesmerized by her, captivated by her beauty. Her breathy moans felt like the most beautiful melody ever created and you were the one causing them. You pulled her shirt up just enough to slip your hands underneath it. You felt the slight shiver of her body as she squirmed a bit at your touch.

“Your hands are a bit cold,” she giggled as your fingertips brushed along her sides. “Y/N, that tickles,” she smacked you slightly on the shoulder and saw the grin on your face. “Goofball,” she kissed you quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, only half-serious as Tara sat up and slowly, in the most tormenting, teasing way possible, took her shirt and bra off. “Fuck,” she looked gorgeous and there was no way your eyes weren’t giving your thoughts away because you couldn’t get them off her body.

Tara smiled at that, she’s shown you her scars before, so she wasn’t worried about your reaction, but this? She was definitely getting an ego boost from this reaction, and the way your cock twitched against her pussy. “You want me, Y/N? Take me,” she said it. “Do anything you want with me,” and in return she’d do anything she wanted with you and there were plenty of things she wanted, so many in fact she knew you couldn’t do it all tonight.

You cleared your throat and nodded as you sat up yourself and then flipped the two of you around so you were on top of Tara. You looked her in the eyes as you leaned down and, while cupping her breast, licked her already hard nipple. Tara took your own shirt and bra off and watched you as you sucked on her breast while she ran her fingers through your hair, encouraging you to keep going. Her other hand found your breasts and she brushed her thumb against your nipple.

Your tangled bodies moved together. Every touch of your hands left her skin burning, left her body more desperate for your touch, every single brush of your fingers drove her mad with desire. And she still didn’t take her jeans or panties off. Your hand went lower until your fingers tugged at her jeans, teasing her and making her moan. “Need you,” she whispered and felt you nodding as your unzipped her jeans and pulled them down.

“You’re soaking wet,” you grunted as you slowly rubbed her pussy over her panties. Tara dared to believe you could slip your cock inside her without any troubles with how wet she was if only you weren’t so big. You pulled your hand out of her jeans, making her immediately whine.

“Y/N, don’t tease me, please,” she begged, but luckily you just took a moment to take her jeans and panties off and strip the rest of your clothes as well.

“That’s your specialty,” you got back on top of her and pushed two fingers inside her pussy, and if she wasn’t as aroused as she was she would probably be embarrassed at how easily your fingers slipped in. Your fingers felt so good inside her as you continued kissing and caressing her body and Tara lay there, a moaning mess before your cock was even inside her. She reached down and wrapped her hand around your cock, there was precum leaking out of it as she rubbed the tip with her thumb. “Don’t, I won’t last if you do that,” you bit her shoulder a bit rougher than you intended. “I want to cum when I’m inside you,” you said while bringing her close to her orgasm.

“Me too then. Put it in me, I’m ready,” she spread her legs for you and kissed you as you blindly reached for the drawer next to your bed and grabbed the condom on top of it. If she didn’t quite literally tell you you would be having sex she would have teased you, but as it was she just wanted you to put it on and fuck her.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” you asked as you lined your cock up with the entrance to her pussy. And oh, she was ready, soaking wet, she probably wouldn’t even feel any pain. Tara nodded and kissed you once more as she hugged you tightly. She felt the tip of your cock sliding into her pussy and moaned, breaking the kiss and leaning her head back on your pillow.

“Y- Ah! Y/N!” she cried out your name, her fingertips digging into the back of your head, her back arching as you wrapped one arm around her and used the other to hold onto her hip.

“You’re taking me so well, Tara,” you whispered in her ear and finally, finally, she took all of you. She was close before, but now, feeling this full, she knew she was right on the edge.

You knew you couldn’t last for long like this. Tara’s warm, wet pussy engulfed you and you tried to focus on something else, to prolong this, but there was no way you could do that, so, you moved your hand from her hip to her clit and began rubbing as you slowly began thrusting into her, hoping you could get her to cum before you did. You would hold back until she cums, you promised that to yourself.

“I’m so close,” Tara moaned. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and you immediately complied as you looked into each other’s eyes, your bodies moving in the perfect sync as she began meeting your thrusts. Her orgasm kept building up, slow and steady, like your entire lovemaking was tonight, and with each thrust she could see you were getting close as well. “Y/N,” she moaned your name, no longer conscious of how much time you spent like that. She just knew that at one point she came, loud and hard, as your sweat covered bodies pressed together and she felt you cumming as well with a moan of your own.

She was absolutely spent. Satisfied with this being her first time. There would be other nights or days for longer lovemaking with multiple orgasms. In her head, and she truly hoped, in yours too, this was perfect.

Tara held onto you, feeling happier than she’s been in a long time. The blissful feeling consuming her entirely as you pulled your cock out and she glanced down at the filled condom. Maybe it was just her orgasm affecting her brain but she couldn’t help but think how one day, when you’re both ready, you’ll be cumming deep inside her. “Baby, Y/N,” she hummed as you caught your breath on top of her and she gently scratched the back of your head.

You lowered your head a bit and kissed her shoulder. “You were incredible,” you whispered, peppering her shoulder and the side of her neck with soft butterfly kisses. “Tara,” you whispered her name like it was your own, personal salvation. “I love you so much,” it wasn’t the first time you said those words, but it felt so good to hear them.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she tilted your chin up and kissed you on the lips, just as soft as everything tonight was. “I never thought sex would feel this good,” she admitted. There was no pain, no holding back, it consumed her entirely and all she could feel was your love for her as you took her innocence.

You chuckled. “Tell me about it,” you rolled onto your back and pulled Tara on top of you so you could rest while still holding her.

Tara had other ideas, turning both of you so you were lying on the side. “There, that’s better,” she whispered and leaned in, closing the distance between you. You would need to get up soon, clean up, take care of the mess you made, but she could bask in your warmth for a bit longer. Especially when you began rubbing her back, soothing her, keeping her feeling good. “I love how gentle and loving you were,” she whispered as she snuggled up to you, aware that, while she did absolutely enjoy the gentle sex she wasn’t opposed to getting a bit rougher sooner or later. She wanted to feel it all with you, to try everything and anything you were both comfortable with.

“It felt right,” you hummed, focusing on holding her and occasionally kissing wherever you could reach at the moment. While Tara showered you with love through words, you preferred touch, and it worked for both of you perfectly. Tara who was starved for touch, you who were starved for words of affirmation, I was a match made in heaven in her mind.

You stayed like that for some time, easily fifteen minutes, if not closer to twenty. Just cuddling and loving one another before you finally went to clean up, not leaving the shared shower until all the hot water had run out.

A/N: Well... Sam may have been a tiny bit over the top/out of character for the sake of the plot 🤣🤣

[moonstruckme]

Hi I’m a huge fan of your work, especially how you write Remus. Could I request Remus and reader getting dressed up for a dinner date/wedding/fancy party? And they’re just smitten over each other and can’t get enough of each other?

Thank you gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 732 words

You hear Remus’ frustrated grunt from within the bathroom. Pause in dabbing your lipstick. 

“Need help?” 

“No, I’ve—oh, fuck me. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” 

You smile to yourself at your boyfriend’s disgruntled tone. You finish up quickly, going into the bedroom to lend a hand. 

“Here, let me.” 

“I’m a fully grown adult.” Remus huffs but lets you take his tie into your hands. You start undoing his complicated knot. “I should know how to tie my own bloody tie.” 

“It’s easier when you’re not the one wearing it. Anyway, you only get practice a couple of times a year.” 

“Because I look like a knob in one,” he mutters, though his voice softens as he watches you fold one part of the fabric carefully over the other. 

“You don’t; you look handsome.” You let your eyes flit up to his, catching the sweet beginnings of his smile. “Suits suit you.” 

“Yeah, ha ha.” Remus grins down at you as you finish with his tie, tightening the knot himself. “Thank you, dove. Oh.” His expression shifts as you take a step back, eyes taking you in for the first time since you disappeared to the bathroom to get ready. His voice goes a bit breathy. “Oh, you look incredible.” 

A pleased heat rises to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you say, smoothing your hands down the sides of your dress self-consciously. “Could you zip me up?” 

Remus gestures for you to turn around, eyes still roving you from head to toe. You’ve always loved that, the way he watches things, taking in the world with quiet studiousness, but you think you may never get used to being the subject of such perusal. 

“Do you think my makeup might be a bit too much?” you ask as he draws the cold zipper up your spine, careful of any snags or catches. “Be honest.” 

“No, I don’t.” The zipper reaches the top, and Remus’ hands find your hips. He turns you towards him. “I think you look perfect.” He kisses your cheek, mindful not to disrupt any of your work. “Beautiful.” 

“Are you sure? There’s still time to change it, I could scale it back.” 

Remus frowns. His thumbs draw small circles over your hips, feeling the material of your dress. “If you want to, that’s fine. But why?” 

You shrug, sheepish. “I want your work friends to like me.”

“They’re going to like you.” 

He says it so easily, like there are no possible alternatives. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I just want to look nice,” you say. “Or, I don’t know, refined. You’re all professors, I don’t want to be the only one who shows up in purple eyeliner or something.” 

“You’re not wearing purple eyeliner,” he points out. 

“For example.” 

Remus gathers you close, hand flat over the small of your back. “You’re very refined,” he tells you, looking you in your eyes. “You’re twice as refined as I am, and they like me fine.” 

You smile up at him. “You have credentials.” 

Remus tilts his chin down, until there’s only an inch or two between you. His lips curve. “I’ll accredit you.” 

“Flirt.” 

“Flatterer.” 

You laugh. Remus looks delighted, his lips coming down on yours with less restraint than you know to expect from him. It makes you smile wider, your mouths a mirror image as you press up onto your toes to give as good as you get. 

“Sorry,” he says after, a tad breathily. “I don’t want to mess up your lip…stuff.” 

You grin at him. “It’ll be okay.” You’ll fix it in the car.

Remus takes your hands, fingers lacing between yours. He lets them hang between you. 

“You wouldn’t be the only one in purple eyeliner,” he tells you, “but you might have to make peace with standing out, sweetheart. It’s hard to avoid when you’re the loveliest thing in the room.” 

You rub your lips together, giving him a meaningful look. “Not the loveliest thing,” you say. 

Your boyfriend blinks, surprised, before his eyes crinkle with fondness. He gives your hands a squeeze. “Now who’s the flirt?”

“Still you.” You let go of one of his hands but keep hold of the other, taking him with you to go find your shoes. “You’re the one in that tie.” 

Remus’ laughter sends a stream of butterflies straight through you. You wonder at having encouraged such a sound.

[taesancult]

the pet names ask has me thinking… what phrases do bnd (legal line) say in bed? who is the most/least vocal?

the horrors persist… BUT SO DOES MY VOICE KINK let’s get this voice kink party started <3

sungho: definitely more quiet, until he gets close. when he’s close, he’ll start rambling out a bunch of “oh fuck oh fuck, wait- it’s- too much” like that kind of vibe. he’s so cute when he gets like this because he’s always so put together, but the second he’s close + cumming he’s a mess. he can talk a lot during it too, he’ll be very upfront (not necessarily blunt, but rather honest) with telling you what feels good. he loves praising you and makes sure you always know how good you make him feel. sometimes, he’ll get shy when you compliment him, his brain short circuits for a moment. it’s not often that our sweet yeppi here gets shy, but tell him he looks so pretty while he fucks you and he’ll melt.

riwoo: baby boy here is really not that vocal. he’s not extremely loud in general, so it makes sense, but his moans are honestly music to your ears. they’re so pretty, and usually so soft, he laughs a lot when he feels really good. not like a full blown laugh but more so like “haaa-ha, feels so good.” sort of thing, that light laugh that people do sometimes if that makes sense?? absolutely will go “ahhh- *smiles* so good” when he’s close or finishing. he’s shy when it comes to just straight up moaning in your ear, but if you remind him that hearing him is a turn on, it’ll really help him to feel more confident. just depends on the day/his mood, and how confident he is.

jaehyun: the most vocal. i have mentioned this before… he’s a loud one for sure. he’s not screaming or anything crazy, but he’s not ashamed to vocally express he’s feeling good. if you praise him, he’ll get noticably more vocal too, not just moans, but will ramble out gratitude and other stuff. he gets especially whiney and breathless when you suck him off and it’ll have his eyes rolling back and his mouth spilling out whimpers. he really is the cutest whiny puppy. could definitely see him calling you mommy, begging you with lines like “i’ll be your good boy, mommy! please!” he’s the cutest loud puppy dog.

taesan: more vocal, but not the most. he’s vocal in the sense that he uses dirty talk a lot. he likes to ask questions such as “do you like that, baby?” or “does that make you feel good?” because he wants to ensure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. he also plays into a degradation kink, if you’re into it, and can get pretty filthy with it. says things like “look at your sweet little pussy, all wet and just waiting for me to use it.” “you want me to use you? beg for it.” like UGGGHHHH he’s so good. when it comes to the noises he makes, he’s more of a groaner and his groans/soft moans go STRAIGHT to your pussy. when he’s more subby/not caring about power dynamics then he can definitely be more whiny.

leehan: more in the middle in terms of volume. his sounds are deep groans paired with lots of dirty talk. he knows he has a hot deep voice that can get your cunt absolutely soaked, so, of course he’s going to use it. the mouth he has on him is absolutely foul in the best way possible, saying the nastiest things to you like it’s a normal everyday thing. he’ll say things like “your pussy is so cute, the way it always gushes for me” or “you look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you, yeah? wanna see?” like excuse me ???? where’s the decency sir

[dollfacefantasy]

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)

EDIT: mochi < injeolmi

//

as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.

he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 

his smile drops instantly.

“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”

you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 

“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 

yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 

“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"

you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 

“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”

yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.

“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”

a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 

“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”

yoongi’s heart clenches. 

he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 

“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”

you nod and move aside for him. 

yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.

he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 

when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 

why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 

he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 

… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.

the room feels more intimate than he expected.

the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;

“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 

yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 

then, you both settle on the bed.

the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.

“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 

yoongi shakes his head instantly. 

“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”

you also shake your head. 

“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 

he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”

you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…

and it’s hard.

it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.

friends. 

until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 

“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”

you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.

“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”

you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 

“okay.” 

and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.

you and yoongi have never been close. 

there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.

no. 

there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 

everyone in the friendgroup is. 

you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 

or at least it should be.

again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 

there’s this undercurrent.

something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 

and that’s what’s confusing. 

in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 

safe?

nervous?

loved?

and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 

you’re still friends.

friends. 

“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”

yoongi’s eyes widen. 

he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 

“what do you want us to be?” 

you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 

“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”

yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”

“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”

“march.”

you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 

“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”

“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”

your lips curve into a small smile. 

“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”

“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”

you blink at him. 

“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”

you swallow. 

the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 

“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”

he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 

“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”

you want to say yes.

to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 

“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”

yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 

“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. “but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”

you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 

“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"

yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 

“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 

you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.

“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”

a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 

“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”

“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”

a beat.

“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”

he laughs. 

“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”

you roll your eyes and he chuckles.

then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 

“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”

yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”

before you know it, you launch yourself at him.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.

when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 

“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”

yoongi snorts at you. 

“i knew it.”

he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 

“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”

as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…

a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 

his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 

it’s for him. 

you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.

what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?

it tugs.

it skips a beat.

it races.

it falls for you a little more.

when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.

neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 

you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 

“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”

yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 

“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.

you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.

just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 

“yoongi?”

“mhmm?

“injeolmi...” you whisper.

yoongi stirs, confused. 

“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”

you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 

“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”

yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”

wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;

baby injeolmi, you are so loved.

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Hear me out please…

Imagine Bucky doing this as a way to get you stay home from work and says something like “Nope. You can’t leave. If you leave, I’m going with you.”

The Bed's Warm, Why Go?

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: swearing, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, nipple sucking, mentions of cum, cumming inside. (If I have left anything out pls DM me and let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 730

ENJOY!

"Doll, don't leave me all alone," his arm snakes around your middle just as you're about to get up from bed. He pulls you towards him, and your back hits his warm, bare chest.

"Love, you know I don't wanna go," you turn in your place and smile at him while scratching his stubble. "Then don't," he pouts and rubs your hip, then cups the back of your knee and hooks your leg over his muscular thigh.

"I need to earn, Bucky. How else am I gonna spoil my favourite man, hmm?" Bucky smirks, and you can see his cheeks flush slightly red. He sits against the headboard and lifts you as though you weigh nothing, setting you on his thighs.

"Stay with me, princess. Call in sick," he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly close as he stuffs his face between your breasts. You sigh and chuckle softly, running your hands through his fluffy bed hair.

"Convince me," you whisper. And that's it. That's all Bucky needed to hear.

He quickly flips the both of you, settling in between your legs. "Don't have to tell me twice, doll."

He tugs your underwear to the side, and slips his cock free from the restraints of his boxers.

You'll never really get over how big your boyfriend is. You start to whine, needing to feel something. "Bucky."

He smirks at your neediness, bending to catch your lips in a chaste kiss. "Oh, I know, doll, I know. Trust me, I'm going to fuck you so good that you forget about work. So good, that the way you walk into work tomorrow, your co-workers are going to think you were really sick."

A whimper leaves your lips, and he chuckles, tapping his cock on your clit. You gasp at the sensation. "Yes, please. Bucky, oh god," you whine, gripping onto his shoulders.

His brows pinched together as he slowly slips into your weeping hole. "Fuck. So, fucking tight, princess." You throw your head back against the pillows, biting your lip as you feel your walls trying their best to accommodate his girth.

He bottoms out in you, and you feel his pubic hair tickle your sensitive button. "Bucky, move please," you whine again. He leans back and grabs your hips, then he starts to pull out until it's just the tip of him inside.

Then he slams into you, and you wail his name. His thrusts start to become harsher, and your moans become more higher in pitch. "Such a good girl for me, yeah? Taking everything I give you."

You moan and start babbling when he hits that particular spot on your spongy wall. "Fuck, Bucky. Right there, right there!" Bucky bends, grabbing the headboard with one hand and tossing your leg over his shoulder with the other.

Reaching new depths into your canal, you scream in pleasure. "Oh yeah, just like that doll. Let the neighbours know how good I make you feel," he sucks a bruising kiss on your neck before sloppily marking up the rest of the column of your throat.

His thrusts are short and hard, and with each one of them, you move closer to the headboard. "Fuck, Bucky, you feel so good," you whine loudly.

You clench around him hard, feeling tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "Babe, I'm close." Bucky groans at your words, thrusting faster. "Shit, me too."

The band tightens until the tension breaks. You arch your back as you gush all over Bucky's cock. "OH FUCK."

Bucky grunts, feeling you milk him. "God, so pretty when you come like that, princess."

You feel his thrusts falter in pace, indicating he's close. You reach behind him and grab his ass, squeezing the muscle. "C'mon baby, come for me," you whisper. He groans, pressing himself against you. Your thigh is impossibly pressed against your chest, and you moan again.

"Shit," Bucky grunts as his body goes slack, and you feel his warm load paint the inside of your walls.

You both pant hard, trying to catch your breaths.

After a while, Bucky removes your leg from his shoulder, and then proceeds to lay himself on top of you. Resting his head on your boobs, he smiles tiredly. "So, you going to work?" he raises a brow.

All you can do is just laugh and playfully flick at his nose.

💌💌💌

Thanks for the ask, babes!!!!

Absolutely, in love with that gif.

I srsly can't stop looking at it, LMAO.

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!

(It got another part)

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day. 

His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie. 

“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him. 

“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.” 

“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.” 

“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.” 

Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over. 

“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.” 

Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case. 

“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.” 

“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.” 

“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.” 

“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.” 

“For what?” 

“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..” 

“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?” 

“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.” 

The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day. 

As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life. 

He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer. 

Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door. 

“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.” 

Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best. 

Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago. 

His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir. 

The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?” 

“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.” 

“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.” 

“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.” 

Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible. 

You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly. 

“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!” 

“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips. 

“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.” 

This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it. 

“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” 

“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion. 

“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time. 

“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…” 

“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.” 

“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.” 

“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.” 

Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze. 

“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.” 

“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.” 

Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon. 

“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.” 

“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.” 

“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.” 

If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him. 

If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more. 

“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”

“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.” 

“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.” 

“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers. 

“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.” 

“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.” 

With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache. 

“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” 

“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.” 

“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?” 

“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. “I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?” 

Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.

“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.” 

“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?” 

“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?” 

“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.” 

Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath. 

[greynatomy]

maybe this time

alessia russo x reader

i haven’t written in a few weeks, but i couldn’t get this song/idea out of my head

inspired by : maybe this time - sarah geronimo

———

Running out the door, paper in hand, she made her way to another house, obnoxiously knocking on the door. Getting impatient, she knocks a bit louder, the door opening seconds later.

“Hi! Bye!” She greets the woman, running past her and up the stairs, barging into a room like she owned it.

“Woah, Alessia! You can’t just come in without knocking! What if I was naked?”

“Oh, please. You’re acting like it’s something I haven’t seen before.”

Your mouth opens and closes, speechless. “That was because you barged into my room! Like right now!”

“Anyway, guess what I got?”

“What is it?”

“You’re looking at the Tar Heel’s newest football player!”

“Tar Heel? What’s that?” You’ve not heard of a team called the Tar Heels in your neighborhood.

“It’s the school I applied for in the states and got  a full scholarship!”

“The states?”

“Did I not tell you? I applied for a school in North Carolina and I got in! Isn’t that just amazing?”

“Oh. When do you leave?”

“In a month.”

A month.

The weeks leading up to Alessia leaving home went differently than what she thought it would be. Normally being attached to one another, you were distant and she didn’t know why.

Sitting at the table, eating dinner with her parents, her mum speaks up.

“Are you sure you want to go all the way to North Carolina honey?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What about Y/N?”

Her eyebrows furrow. “What about her?”

“How did she take the news?”

“Pretty well I’d say.”

“Really?”

“Why?”

“Just wondering cause you’ve both been talking about going to Uni together, living on your own together, but now she’s staying here and you’re going away.”

Alessia didn’t say a word the rest of the dinner, her mind occupied on thoughts about you.

‘Was that why you’ve been distant?’ She thought.

A week before she had to leave, you’re stood outside her house and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door opens, revealing Alessia.

“Hi.”

She looked shocked to see you. “Hello. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know if you want to go on a walk with me?” Nodding, she puts her shoes on and follows you out. “I wanted to apologize. I haven’t been fair and started ignoring you. I just didn’t know what to think.”

“I should apologize too. I should’ve told you I was applying for schools out of the country.”

You both make it to the park, sitting on a bench facing the playground.

“Yeah. I don’t know when you decided on that because all our lives we’ve talked about going to University together, living together and all that stuff, but if you think it’s the right decision for you then I am okay with it.”

“I know it’s the right decision for me and I am sorry for leaving you here.”

“Just don’t forget about me when you’re all famous.” You nudge your shoulder into her’s. “I’ll text you everyday.”

“And I will do the same.”

You were back to being inseparable the whole week. Making up for lost times and the times you won’t have for a while in the future.

The week goes by fast. Here you are, standing at the airport, by her gate, watching Alessia embrace her family goodbye. Letting go of her dad, she turns to face you. 

Her best friend. Her almost something.

She approached you, dragging her suitcases behind her, eyes locked on yours with a mix of sadness and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“So,” she started, her voice soft, “this is it.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah,” you managed to say, throat tight. “I guess it is.”

For a moment, you both just stood there, silence heavy between you, filled with the unspoken words, the missed opportunities, the what-ifs. You reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, your touch lingering more than it should.

“I’m going to miss you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia tried to smile, but it wavered, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I’ll miss you too,” she replied, and it was the understatement of the century. She would miss everything about you—your laugh, the way you always knew how to make her smile, the way you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention. She was.

Alessia took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “Y/N, I—” she started, but the announcement for her flight cut her off. You both jumped slightly, reality crashing down around you.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Timing, huh?”

Alessia nodded, biting her lip. “Always perfect.”

You pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapping around her like they never wanted to let go. She buried her face in your chest, breathing the familiar scent of you, trying to memorize it, to hold onto it.

“Keep in touch?” you murmured into her hair, still holding her close.

“Of course,” she said, voice muffled into your jacket. “But it won’t be the same.”

“No,” you agreed, pulling back slightly to look at her. “It won’t.”

You stood there for a moment, faces inches apart, the world around them blurring into nothingness. Your gaze dropped to her lips, and for a second, she thought—hoped—you might close the distance.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, a gentle, lingering touch that said all the things you couldn’t.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, though they both knew that “soon” was an unknown promise.

Alessia nodded, blinking back tears as you pulled away completely. You watched as she turned and headed toward the gate, every step taking her further from you. You wanted to call out to her, to ask her to stay, to tell her how you really felt—but the words lodged in your throat, too heavy to speak.

And then, just before she disappeared through the gate, she turned around one last time. Their eyes met across the distance, and in that moment, Alessia knew that things would never be the same.

But at least, she thought as you gave her a small, sad smile, they had this. This moment. This goodbye.

And maybe, just maybe, it was enough.

As Alessia boarded his plane, you stood there, rooted to the spot, watching until the plane disappeared into the clouds. you finally let the tears fall, feeling the weight of everything you hadn’t said.

Maybe someday, you’d find the courage to tell her. But for now, you whispered your feelings into the empty space where she used to be, hoping that somehow, she could still hear them.

“I love you, Alessia. I always have.”

But the words came too late, carried away by the winds of time and distance.

And as you walked away from the gate, you felt the emptiness left behind by the goodbye that wasn’t quite enough, and the love that was never quite spoken.

You felt a presence behind you, a hind coming to rest on the back of your neck, gripping tightly.

“You’ll see her again soon,” it was Alessia’s dad making a promise you didn’t want to hear. “This isn’t goodbye.

Holding back tears, he pulled you close, walking back to the car park, trying to forget the words that went unspoken.

—

Practice just ended and Alessia was sitting on the grass with Lotte and Emily taking her boots off.

“Have you’ve read the news lately?” Lotte asked the two.

“No, why? What’s happening?”

“There’s this virus going around and we might have to go on lockdown.”

“What about football? Are we still able to play if we do go into lockdown?”

“That’s also unknown. Everything is crazy right now.”

Not even a few days later they get an email from the athletics department stating a cancellation of the sports currently in season, which unfortunately for Alessia, was her sport. 

Thankfully she had a backup plan just in case.

Grabbing her phone, she dials a number, waiting for the person on the other side to pickup.

“Mum,” she started, packing the last of her clothes in her suitcase, “I’m coming home.”

—

Alessia Russo stepped off the plane, her heart racing with a mixt of excitement and nerves. It had been three years since she’d left home for her scholarship in North Carolina. Three years since she had seen her family, her friends, and the person she thought about almost every day since she left.

The familiar chill of the English air greeted her as she exited airport. Her brother was waiting at the gate, waving enthusiastically. She hugged him tightly, comforted by his familiar scents and warmth. It felt good to be home.

The drive to her childhood home was filled with chatter about her time in America, her football team’s victories, and the memories they had missed sharing. But even as Alessia laughed and talked, her thoughts kept drifting to one person—Y/N.

You’ve had been her best friend, her confidant, and her first love. You both had spent countless hours together before she left, and parting had been harder than anything she had ever done. She had promised to keep in touch, and they did for a while. But life had a way of pulling them in different directions. Football was taking up all her time, throw in a few of her classes, she felt like she didn’t have time for anything. She didn’t mean to do it on purpose, as time went on, the calls became less frequent, the messages shorter, until one day, they simply stopped.

Alessia’s parents had thrown a welcome home dinner for her, and she was eager to see everyone again, but mostly she was eager to see you. She had imagined what it would be like a thousand times—how you would look, what she would say to you. She wondered if you had missed her as much as she had missed you.

The dinner was in full swing by the time they arrived. The house was filled with the laughter of her parents, aunts and uncles, the clinking of glasses, and the scent of home-cooked food. Alessia was enveloped in hugs and well-wishes, but as she scanned the room, she realized that you wasn’t there.

“Have you seen Y/N?” she asked her mum.

She exchanged a quick glance around before looking away, something unspoken passing between them. “I… I haven’t seen her in a while, Less.”

Alessia’s heart sank, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. “Oh, okay. Maybe she’ll come by later,” she said, trying to sound hopeful.

As the night went on, Alessia tried to enjoy herself, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her parents eventually pulled her aside into the quiet of the living room.

“Alessia,” her mother began, her voice soft, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

Her father cleared his throat, his expression solemn. “Y/N isn’t coming tonight, love.”

“Why not?” Alessia asked, her voice trembling.

“They… they enlisted in the navy a year ago,” her mother explained, her eyes filled with concern. “She’s deployed now.”

Alessia felt like the ground had shifted beneath her. You had enlisted? The Y/N who hated violence, who always dreamed of traveling the world, who said they wanted to make a difference in a different way? It didn’t make sense.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We didn’t want to worry you while you were so far away,” her father said gently. “And Y/N didn’t want to burden you with it. They wanted you to focus on football and your future.”

Tears welled up in Alessia’s eyes. She had come back expecting to pick up where they left off, but now… now everything had changed.

“Do you know where they are?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Her parents exchanged a glance. “We don’t know the exact details, but they’re safe. They’re doing important work.”

Alessia nodded, though her heart was breaking. She had imagined so many different scenarios for this moment, but this… this wasn’t one of them.

She excused herself from the room, retreating to her old bedroom. Everything was just as she had left it, but it didn’t feel the same. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking out the window at the darkened sky. Somewhere, you were out there, and she couldn’t reach you.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through their old messages, the ones she hadn’t been able to delete. A tear slipped down her cheek as she re-read your last text from months ago: “Take care, Lessi. I’ll always be with you, no matter where life takes us.”

She didn’t get to reply back, not even noticing that you’d texted her and that being the last text you had sent. In a way, it was you saying goodbye, not knowing how long you’d be gone for.

Alessia held the phone to her chest, closing her eyes. She didnt regret many things, but pulling away from you was her biggest regret, wishing she could turn back time and not let things get in the way, no matter how important it was because to her, you were most important.

—

Alessia went to play for Manchester United with little to no crowds, but she loved it. She knew she made the right decision for her career coming back home early, but there was always a you sized hole in her heart.

These are milestones she wished that you were here for, but she can only blame herself for it.

A few years playing in Manchester, Alessia got an opportunity she couldn’t turn down and here she was in London, having unpacked her things from the countless boxes littered throughout the apartment.

Needing a break from all the unpacking, Alessia decided to take a walk through her neighborhood, through London to familiarize herself to her home the next couple of years. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. This has always been her favorite time of the day, but it somehow felt bittersweet. There was something in the air— a nostalgic feeling that tugged at her heart in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

She walked by countless people, not giving them any mind. It was crowded, people bumping into her left and right until one person’s scent filled the air around her. 

It smelled like home.

Quickly turning around, Alessia tries to find that familiarity, lightly pushing people away who blocked her path. She was lost, head swiveling around, hoping to find -what- who she needed, when she lays her eyes on the bridge. 

A loner figure leaning against it, staring out, back to Alessia. It was you. Still dressed in uniform, clean and crisp, contrasting the setting sun. Your once long hair was now cut short, looking more mature, more grounded. But even from behind, Alessia would recognize you anywhere. The way you held yourself with quiet confidence—it was unmistakable.

For a moment, Alessia felt like she was eighteen again, in the airport, walking away from you, unknowingly being the last time she’d ever see you, ‘til right now. She remembered the way her heart ached, the way she held her tears from falling down her face, wishing she would’ve turned back around and ran into your arms, and say that she wasn’t leaving after all.

But Alessia didn’t turn back. She kept walking, disappearing into the unknown future that didn’t include you.

Alessia’s feet moved on their own, carrying her closer to you, until she was just a few steps away. Her heart pounded in her chest, anxiety and anticipation radiated off her body. It’s been so long. Would you even recognize her? Would you care?

“Y/N?” She called out. Her voice was soft, almost drowned out by the noise of the city, but you heard it. She saw you body stiffen, almost scared to turn around, but you did, as if not daring to believe your ears.

When your eyes met, it was like time stood still. Your face was a mix of surprise and something else—something deeper, more vulnerable. Alessia felt a lump form in her throat, feeling a bit overwhelmed with emotions.

“Alessia,” You said, voice barely above a whisper. You blinked, as if you’re trying to figure out of your eyes were playing tricks on you. “It’s-it’s you.”

“Yeah. It’s me. And it’s you.”

You took and step closer, your gaze sweeping over Alessia’s face, taking in every detail as if you were trying to make up for the years you had lost. “You look… you look good,” you stated, a soft smile tugging at your lips. It was the same smile that made Alessia’s heart skip a beat, and she felt it happen again now, after all this time.

“So do you,” Alessia replied, voice trembling slightly. “You look… different. Older. But still you.”

You chuckled. There goes Alessia’s heart again. 

“I guess the navy will do that to you. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Way too long.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with all the words that were left unsaid over the years. You wanted to say so much, to ask why she stoped replying to your messages, declining all your calls, but most importantly, to say that you missed her. But the words were stuck in your throat, too heavy to push past.

Alessia seemed to sense this, because she took another step forward, closing the distance in between. “Y/N,” she said softly, yourself melting from the way she said your name. “I-I never meant to disappear like that. I thought about you all the time, but… I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” You asked, voice cracking as you were finally able to ask the question that haunted you for so long.

“Of what I felt. So I distracted myself with more work, more football to block everything out,” Alessia admitted, not being able to look you in the eyes. “That you’d forgotten about me. I thought… maybe if I pulled away first, it would be easier to face you when I’d find out that you had moved on.”

Alessia felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly wiping it away, but not before you noticed. Your expression softened, and you reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently brushing the back of your fingers against Alessia’s cheek. She melted at you touch.

“I never forgot you,” You said, voice choked with emotion. “How could I?”

“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to-to ignore you. I should’ve communicated better. I should’ve been braver. I…I—”

“—Hey, hey.” You interrupted her rambling:

“I was a coward.”

“No!” You gently, but firmly, grabbed her face with both your hands, pulling her close and forcing her to look into your eyes. “You are not a coward,” Your voice soft. “You were just afraid and that’s okay.”

“But I lost you even when I was trying to prevent that from ever happening.”

“Who said you lost me? Cause you haven’t.”

“You joined the navy when you had never mentioned being interested it it at all!”

“That’s not on you. That was all me. No matter how pathetic it sounds, I couldn’t go through with going to Uni without you when it was our-my dream to experience it with you.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“And I forgive you even if you have nothing to apologize for. I mean look at you now,” You step back, gesturing your hands as if to present her, “Alessia Russo, European champion and back heel queen.”

“Stop it.” Alessia covers her face, not wanting you to see it reddening.

You hold your hand out towards her, hoping she gets the hint. Fortunately for you, she does. holding her hand, you lead her away from the bridge. 

“You know,” you started, leading her to a nice path with less people, “you didn’t leave me behind, no matter what you think. You were always with me, in here.” You placed your free hand over your heart, your gaze locked with Alessia’s.

Alessia looked at you for a moment, as if she was searching something in your eyes. And then, slowly, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours. “Maybe this time… maybe we can finally get it right.”

You felt a warmth spread throughout your body at her words. “No more beating around the bush?”

“No,” Alessia answered, voice soft. She closed her eyes when she saw your face leaning more towards her’s. “I don’t want to let you go, not when we’ve been given a second chance.”

You felt your heart swell with hope, nodding, her smile widens. “Then let’s give this a go. Let’s see where this takes us.”

You led her away again, talking as you walked, catching up on everything that you missed in each other’s lives. You told her about your time in the navy, the places you had seen, the people you had met. And Alessia shared her own stories, how America was, her football career, the friends she made.

All the walking and talking, Alessia hadn’t noticed that she led you all the way to her apartment.

“Oh,” Alessia’s lips turned to a frown, realizing her time with you has come to and end. “I guess this is me.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for tonight,” Alessia said softly, voice tinged with a bittersweet note that tugged at your heart. Her blue eyes met your brown ones, and for a moment, it felt like you were kids again, sneaking out late at night to watch the stars .

“Yeah, it was… amazing,” You replied, shoving your hands in your pocket. You didn’t want to leave. 

Alessia turns to look at you, her face turning serious. “I know we can’t just pick up where we left off,” she said, her voice gentle. “But I want you to try. I want to be in your life’s If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you. I want that too and everything more. I am yours Alessia. I always have been.” Silence filled the air around you, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was a silence filled with comfort. 

“It’s late,” Lesia broke the silence, hands fiddling with her keys. “You should probably go.”

“I should,” You replied, but instead of leaving, you stepped closer to her, leaving no space in between.

The air between the both of you changed, and before she could think, before any doubt creeps in her head, you leaned in. Your lips hovered just above hers, giving her a chance to pull away. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

You closed the gap, a gasp makes its way out of her mouth. Her arms make their way around your neck, pulling you closer. This first kiss tentative, almost fragile, as if afraid that one wrong move would break the moment. The kiss was deepened, pouring every missed opportunity, every hidden feeling into it. 

When you finally broke apart, breathless and hearts racing, you rested your foreheads together, the weight of your shared history and newfound hope settling around them. 

“We should’ve done that ages ago,” Alessia said with a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, thumbs brushing across her cheeks. “But I think now was the right time.”

Alessia bit her bottom lip, hesitant to say what she wants to say. “Do you… do you want to come in?”

You didn’t have to think twice. “Yeah,” you said, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I’d like that.”

Walking through the threshold felt like the start of their new lives. Two old friends who met again after years, wearing older faces, finding the love they had from years ago.

And for the first time in a long time, Alessia felt like maybe, just maybe, everything was falling into place.