#even when it was hard and even when it hurt

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[luvyeni]

⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!

he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.

he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.

he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”

heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.

you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.

“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.

you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!

you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”

you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”

he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”

you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”

he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”

that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.

because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.

you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…

©️LUVYENI

[nemesyaaa]

sweet nothing || rafe x reader x sarah

summary : it's okay to want them both.

warnings : minors dni. smut. stepcest (no incest/rafe and sarah are not implied together.). oral (f&m receiving.). bisexual!reader. mean!rafe but meaner!sarah. controlling. cunt inspections. jealousy. daddy issues. manipulation. strap mentions. spit kink. i don't feel like it's a dark content but just in case. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : /

“ Rafe is not allowed in it. ”

Sarah Cameron didn't want to share you. As the high Kook Princess that she was, she always got what she asked for. She never had to sweat or bleed to get what she wanted. So if she wanted you to be hers, you were hers.

But that meant there could only be her in your life because there was no way she was sharing her girlfriends with Rafe. She had always been the crueler of the two. It wasn't surprising since Ward had always favored her. If she acted like this, it was because she had always been allowed to. It was too hard for Ward to deny her anything. And if he couldn't be tough and firm with her, he needed to be with someone else.

And Rafe was so easily the perfect prey.

Just like you were Rafe's perfect victim when Ward was evil to him.

You were only there because his father married your mother. You were just an outsider to this degenerate family and yet you were now part of a conflict of interest between the two siblings.

in fact, it has been terribly easy for Rafe to have power over you and to abuse it. Since you suffered from a father who had never been there for you, and you refused Ward to be that father figure for you, he simply had to use your daddy issues to his advantage.

so he had always looked for the slightest fault or failure in you. he was going to find any excuses for you to cry in his arms. also, he was very controlling. you weren't sure of the outfit you wanted to wear? he knew how to compliment you. Did he hate your outfit? he also knew how to make you insecure about it. he was an expert in manipulation since he was a compulsive liar.

you weren't just his stepsister, you were his fucking forbidden fruit.

you were too perfect, too good, too clean. but he wasn't like sarah. if he wanted you, he was going to damage you and destroy you. Rafe wasn't good at taking care of people. He had a terrible view of affection. He wasn't even sure what it was.

You were so adorable that it hurt, that he wanted to make you suffer.

He knew he could never make Sarah suffer, and that he was secretly the only one suffering from this distance between the two of them. Because Sarah was meaner. People always stayed with her despite the suffering she inflicted on them. Because she was so much better than him in terms of playing the victim.

he also hated the fact that you preferred sarah more than him. why did he always have to be the one who sweats and bleeds to be appreciated while sarah just had to bat her eyelashes to get everyone under her spell ? it was unfair.

and without meaning to, he had started to categorize you like her, a simple bitch among the others. except he needed you to know it, he needed you to be treated like one to be happier. and damn, he deserved this happiness. more than you, more than sarah. more than anyone in this house.

he hated the way you stayed together like sweethearts, even though you were far from being angels.

" think sarah would appreciate seeing you like that ? being such a whore for me, think she would pay you the same respect after seeing you drooling for my dick ?"

his voice was so sharp that you gulped hard under his words.

you were on your knees, mouth stuffed deep by his cock. your corners were dripping as you gave him a sloppy head for a few minutes raw. he held your head by the hair while you gagged on him which served as an excuse for him to degrade you even more. you were so pathetic, willing to do anything to satisfy him. your mouth was working so hard that it felt like it was always meant for this, to be used and treated so dirty.

he was so hard that you could feel every inch of his dick inside your mouth. every noise you made was sucked away by the wet sound of your lips around his cock.

“you can cry all you want, maybe those tears will help you get my dick wet and nice. if you don't like me being mean to you, you should learn it before choosing this bitch over me. ”

you continued to pump him, while he forced your throat with his thrusts, his heavy hips slamming down your cheeks.

“ tongue out...such a pretty girl...” he mocked you, tear-jerking more cries from you. “better swallow what I give you. don't disappoint me twice, i can't fail you. ”

he lost his patience with you so he didn't care that he was cold, and that you took it so badly. that was all you deserved.

he had spat on your tongue, once, twice, until he saw his spit sliding down your throat, until he saw the large glob foaming around his cock, creating a web around his glistening red tip. you were so messy and dirty like a dog after a walk.

and you made him even harder when you took him this far in your mouth. he could feel you struggling and gasping for air. you were so miserable that it made him feel better to see someone even more pathetic than him for once.

“ what's up, pretty ? thought you were an angel but you're such an evil thing. ”

you tried so hard to speak back but his dick was hanging out your jaw to the point all your drool was dripping from your chin. you were such a mess, unable to talk, unable to think. he was fucking your face, tearing your lips apart with the length of his cock. he was driving his shaft so fast in your mouth that you were just good at choking on it. he wrapped a hand around your neck and smirked when he could feel your throat bulging around his dick. your tears were hot, and your cheeks soaked with spit and cries.

he spat on your face, watching his spittle drip down your cheekbones like tears before smearing it on your cheeks.

“ repeat after me. say i'm good to you. now, say it. "

oh yes, he needed to hear it. he needed to hear from you that he was good for you. he needed to hear you say that you didn’t need anyone but him. he needed to feel important to someone.

“ y-y-our good to...me...hmpf...”

your muffled words were enough to make him cum.

he had released everything in your mouth, splashing it deep down your stomach.

but it wasn't just rafe.

sarah also had this need for control over you. she started to establish her territory on you.

her brother didn't deserve to have someone like you. pretty and angelic girls were only reserved for girls.

“rafe isn’t allowed in it.”

you thought it would end there but she had opened your thighs to slip her fingers inside your folds. you were already terribly wet as if you had been hearing about her touch all evening.

but she didn't want to make you cum. no sarah cameron wanted to make sure no one made you cum before. she inspected every corner of your pussy with her fingers.

at first, she just checked the inside, before starting to pump it in and out, watching you getting wetter with her fingers working in your insides. her thrusts were fast and deep but also insanely forceful, leading you to take the heavy pace she was driving onto you. you were panting and crying like a crybaby, as you could feel every of her digits bruising your walls.

you thought Rafe was mean but Sarah was meaner.

her fingers were tearing apart your canal, literally opening you too deep and you were supposed to be quiet because all your family was sleeping. and you didn't want to be caught in that position, especially when the situation was already so shameful. you didn't want anyone to know about your secrets.

“ say it. say that you prefer me over him. ” she urged you as she was scissoring you quicker, making you squirm over her fingers.

she was supposed to be your gentle princess, the delicate sweetheart that took you on amazing day to make girlies activities, but also the kook queen that spoiled you everytime you wanted something, but also the good sister that help you dress and listen to your matters but now you were just her pathetic whimpering dirty slut.

you were the toy that she's gonna use until she was satisfied and tired of it.

“ and you better say it like you mean it. because i can be pretty good, but also, really bad. and you don't want your step sister to be mean to you ? you don't want her to be your worst nightmare ? ”

she was scaring you at this point, but he really worked. you felt a lot of things inside your body, and your mind was so fucked up. her smile was so wicked, but less than the fingers curled inside your weeping core. the way she was so cruel, calling your brain a real pussy for being so useless and making you so wet by the way she was degrading you.

“ you…you're far better, sarah. ” you moaned, but she muffled your noises with her hand by putting her fingers inside your mouth.

“ i don't want to see you with that loser anymore. let him cry, it's the only thing he's good at it. ” she paused before continuing. “ I thought you were like me…but you're just like him. i really need to change that. ”

she knelt in front of you before spitting on your pussy. she waited for the spit to make its way down to your soaked slick to slide her tongue inside your parts. you forced yourself not to scream but you felt awful.

she was just too good.

you promised rafe not to hang out with sarah anymore, but you also promised sarah the same thing. as they both played with you, you allowed yourself to betray each of them. it was their fault. they had both taught you to be selfish.

her tongue was so warm. she had barely slipped it between your folds when you were already getting wet on her mouth. as she licked you, causing the inside of you to spasm, her chin was stuck to your weeping slit.

her tongue was toying with your cunt. you were so good, a fucking heaven. she mixed her spit with the foaming wetness at your entrance. she forced you to stay still, threatening you with her eyes and controlling your body with a hand on your tummy.

she didn't forget your clit and she also played with your arched bud to the point of making it bruise. her mouth was wrapped to your pussy, latched on and licking it, collecting every stream of your pussy.

she has so much power over you.

all her thrusts were so perfect. she absolutely wanted that if someone touched you here, you would remember that it belonged to her.

she wanted you to think of her every time someone touched you, just like Rafe wanted you to only think of him if someone entered you.

except you were free. with sarah, you only thought of her. with rafe, you only thought of him. you were not a toy. you had feelings. and you weren't going to get into their stupid, competitive games.

when sarah took a strap out of her drawer, you looked at her with wide eyes. you have never gone this far before. she reassured you while you watched her put it around her waist.

“what do you want..."

she laughed in a sharp mocked tone. oh where you sweet girl at? “I don't want anything. it's just what you need. because you like to think about dick, i'm gonna show what's a real cock is. now, enough. turn around. i don't want to see your face anymore. ”

“you're just so mean sometimes. ” you cried softly, before you obeyed her like the good girl you were .

“oh that why your tears for? should them be for letting a pathetic man fucking you behind my back. now you want to cry this much? Fine, it's all I want to hear from you. ”

That was how you ended up between the two Cameron but you were unable to make a choice. why were you forced to?

“sarah said i look pretty in that dress.” you started.

“let me choose something better for you then. don't you want to be beautiful ? "

“I thought I was always beautiful to you.”

“you are but only so when you wear what I tell you to wear.”

you hated it when he was controlling like that but it was impossible for you to resist him which you hated even more. you wanted to please him.

“burn that shit.” he commanded you.

“you’re joking, right?”

rafe remained silent to let you know that he was serious.

one other day, he gave you a necklace with his initial, and you blinked a lot of times. “I’m not going to wear that.”

"yea, you're gonna wear that. i want people to know what's mine."

"They're going to talk, you know..."

" why? because you're my sister. we're not related. from what i've know, you've only got my cum inside you. not my blood. "

"it's not because everyone knows on the island that you're fucked up that i'm…”

now he was pissed. you had abused his patience. and what you had just said to him had just stung him and hell, he hated that feeling because he wasn't supposed to feel anything for you. you weren’t good enough to him to have the upper hand over his emotions.

he walked towards you, and you backed away, slightly frightened. you knew he was in trouble so you were afraid of what he could do to you.

“come here, sweetheart. I’m not mad.”

he lied. and you knew it, tears had started to fall down your face.

Usually, Sarah was there when Rafe wanted to go after you but this time she wasn't. you were stuck with him so he had the advantage.

"you know I wouldn't hurt you. I'm incapable of hurting you."

he lied again.

it was all lies. with him.

"liar! you lied! you hurt me everytime."

“you are the only one who lies. "

oh evil.

"i always took care of you. and you better not forget how kind and patient I've been with you because I'm tired of being the one who has to take everything in this house. sarah, my father and now you? no, it's not going to happen. "

“what?”

"last chance, sweetheart. come here.”

you rolled your eyes.

“ do that shit one more time and i'm gonna make them roll in a way you're not gonna find it funny. ”

“ you're not my father, why should i listen to you ? ”

you lift your gaze to see a smirk on his face, before he pinned you down the door and lock it behind your back, his weight was heavily pressed on your body. “ don't act like you're listening to your daddy, you're far from a good girl. ”

“ that's not what you said to me earlier in the morning…”

another day it was sarah. you were coming back from a family day where everyone was there except Rafe. you didn’t know if he hadn’t been invited or if he hadn’t wanted to come. but in any case, everyone had been there.

when you got home, you followed sarah to her room. you loved spending time with her so much. Today, you learned to surf, ate ice cream with wheezie, built sandcastles, and met her pogues crew.

you left out the detail where you saw her kiss a certain john b because it made your heart hurt.

you didn't know what sarah found in men. topper and now this john b. but could you blame her when you were doing worse behind her back?

when sarah closed the door, you blocked her against it to kiss her. you forced her mouth to open in frustration, and she kissed you too, possessively. it was like your feelings were speaking through your lips. your tongue was furiously curled against hers, and your mouth violently smacked on her.

“ i don't like to see you with him. ”

“ do i owe you something ? ” she simply replied, arms crossed over her chest. “ i ask you a question. ”

“ oh come on, you don't need to be a bitch with me. ”

“ why ? i feel like it's the only way to interact with you. ”

“ are you mad at me ? ”

“ because you're still fucking with my brother ? if you can play, i will play too. ”

“ fine, i don't care. kiss all the boys you want. but don't forget that the taste you're seeking for is somewhere else. ”

“ now, you're against me ? rafe really fucked you’. fine too, stay with that jerk but don't forget who's dick between his and mine making you cum three time raw. ”

“ god, you're so annoying. ” you exploded. “ why can't things be simple ? “

“ because we want you both and you want us both. ”

[maxrspeaks]

Dating sukuna is difficult.

He’s not soft and tender, love comes like tidal waves, lapping at the shore before ultimately pulling back, distancing, and then, like wet sand you chase after him, texts, calls, notes, only the remnants of salty water answer back.

Sukuna is not a bad boyfriend. No. He remembers birthdays, he remembers anniversaries, he remembers every occasion that is important to you. On these days he makes an effort to be present, but that’s all you get, his presence, like the shell of a man he lingers, phantom like. He’ll light the candles on a cake, but he won’t take a bite out of it. He’ll help you tie the balloons together in clusters, but won’t smile for a picture next to it. All he does is be present, like he’s repaying a favour long overdue.

You understand him, you know him. Your skin is bruised from the hard, jagged edges of his enamel that nip and bite at your flesh, raw, hard bone sinking into you, pearly whites stained red. Then he’ll lick the wound, and it becomes love.

You still hurt.

But you understand him. You understand he’s not devoid of sentiment, he’s just robbed of expression. You know this because you see him, you notice him. The downturned edges of his mouth when he takes his shirt off in public spaces and there’s fingers pointed in his direction, children stop and stare, the appendage on his back grins in mocking victory, he doesn’t cower. But his frown is evident.

Sukuna never told you of his disability. No. To this day you haven’t heard him bring it up, the slits under his eyes gleam at you, only under proper lighting can you see them glimmer in pearly whites. The skin on his back prods out, extra bone and flesh accumulating atop each other, he doesn’t speak of it. But the first time he took shirt off in front of you, he waited, patiently. As though he was waiting for approval.

It’s difficult sometimes. He knows you deserve softness, gentleness. A kind of love that makes your face glow, your sides soften, a kind of love that doesn’t fuel the anticipation in your gaze that maddens you. But he thinks he’s getting around to it.

So when he sees you break down, crying, randomly on a tuesday evening. He realises how abysmally fucked he is.

“You’re hurting me.”

So he stops. It happens in a week. You see flowers in vase, your favourites, snuck into the corner of the hall, an embarrassing attempt at something. Then he starts coming home on time, he picks your handbag and slings it over his shoulder before you can, he tries.

Sukuna loves you. He chants it into the mirror every morning like a prayer. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. He loves you so he won’t subject you to his sharpness. His crudity.

He loves you so he will soften himself for you. Why lick a wound clean when he can cease the very creation of the wound itself.

He loves you, so he will.

And its not blatantly obvious. But you notice it. You notice the grunt of the recipe book against the marble counter top, you notice the sickly sweet smell of cake wafting off the oven on the morning of your anniversary. You notice the way his fingers curl into yours when you drag him away for photos, and he mimics a smile as well as he can.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

To the anon that suggested Curly Manhandling..

here bookie <3

NSFW MINORS GO AWAY

Curly’s quite the big fellow. He knows it, too. He’s always flexing his arms in front of you to show off his gym gain and taking every opportunity to show off his impressive build. You don’t mind it. It’s a bit of a turn-on, knowing all that is all yours. But the best part is when he uses that muscle he worked so hard on to fuck you dumb. He knew you liked to be manhandled and took that to heart, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder whenever you suggested taking things to the bedroom. He adored the squeals and giggles from you when he did. Filled his heart with a sense of pride… or maybe he just adored his sweet girl. His favorite method was pushing your legs up to your head while he pounded into you, seeing the very slight bulge of his cock outlined in your stomach when he thrusts. You’re soaked and gripping him like a vice and he could die happily right now, buried 9 inches inside you. He’d hunch over to quicken his pace, hands pinning your wrists up by your head. He’d love looking at your fucked-out face, the slight drool pooling at the corner of your lips, your slightly crossed eyes, mouth parted in an O shape. You looked so pretty like this. He wanted to take a picture and frame it, hang it above his bed so he could see it every day. Your face was amazing, but it came in second only to your moans. Your beautiful, sweet little noises. Whines of his name, pleas, whimpers, all of it spurred him on. Hearing his name from your mouth was music to his ears. “Yeah, baby? Wan’ me to go faster? Harder? You got it, lemme take care of you.. Sweet thing.” “Fuck, you’re takin’ me good… g’na make me come quick..” And you took it like a champ. When he did pump you full of his kids, you took every drop. He’d let you fall back and observe his come leaking out your poor cunt. But he’s not finished, ladies and gents. Oh no. He doesn’t normally do this out of fear of hurting you, but when he’s particularly stressed and you’re just offering yourself.. Full Nelson time!! Yup, he’s got your back pressed flush against his chest, ass against his pelvis, cock thrusting in and out of you. He has an arm locked around you to hold you in place, and his other’s holding up one of your thighs for a better angle. You find this position the hottest because he finally gets to be rough with you.he begs to differ, but as long as it makes you happy, and it really does. “Fu-uck, baby, keep movin’ like that, i gotcha.. Mhmmm. Feels so good..” He’s babbling praise into your ear while he destroys you, the gentleman that he is, and making sure to kiss you everywhere he can. Soft little ‘sorry’s on your skin. He feels bad for being so rough with you, but he can't help it when it feels so good. Even he’s moaning like a girl now just from the euphoric bliss of being inside your sweet little cunt. And he’ll keep going, until he’s filled you up with at least 5 loads of his come. He wants to pump you full of his babies in hopes he’ll start a family with you. But, more likely, he’s just obsessed with seeing you leak his seed out of your abused hole. Either way, you’re full of him, a reminder of what he does to you. You’ll certainly find it difficult to walk tomorrow, but it’s worth it. He’ll take care of you, since it’s his fault you’re in that state, poor thing. And he’ll do it all over again when you want him to! <3

[loveesiren]

What about jj saving rafes gf instead of Sarah when she falls off the boat? Even though jj and Rafe hate each other

of course babes! sorry this took a while, i hope you enjoy! :)

𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

warnings: not proofread, language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Before you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, you were a Pogue through and through. You grew up with JJ and John B, learning to boat, fish, and work hard for the things you wanted. Life was simple but full, with endless summer days spent on the water and nights filled with laughter. When Pope and Kiara joined your crew, it felt like your family was complete—especially since having Kiara around meant you finally had someone who understood what it was like to be a girl surrounded by all that chaotic, masculine energy.

But things changed when you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. At first, it seemed impossible. A Kook and a Pogue? The idea alone was laughable. Yet, against all odds, there was something magnetic about Rafe—a spark you couldn’t ignore. And to your surprise, he felt it too. It wasn’t long before stolen glances turned into secret meetings, and those meetings turned into something deeper. But every step closer to Rafe felt like a step away from your childhood friends.

Sure, it was fine when John B started dating Sarah Cameron. But when you got with the older Cameron sibling, it was a problem. Rafe’s constant harassment didn’t help your case. Sarah was much kinder than her brother, and the Pogues saw her as someone who genuinely cared for John B. Rafe, on the other hand, had a reputation that preceded him—a volatile temper and a knack for trouble that made him nearly impossible to trust. Except when it came to you. Your presence seemed to calm the storm in his mind.

Choosing Rafe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that you stopped caring for the Pogues. In fact, you still loved them fiercely, even if your paths had diverged. Being with Rafe meant walking a tightrope. While he harbored a burning hatred for your old crew, he knew better than to act on it—because hurting them meant risking you. And losing you was unthinkable for Rafe, who had grown to see you as the one thing anchoring him in his stormy world. But even his restraint couldn’t erase the tension. The Pogues saw your relationship as a betrayal, and you feared they’d never forgive you. 

Now, you sat alone on the edge of a boat, staring out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic as it stretched endlessly before you. The journey to Morocco wasn’t one you’d ever imagined taking. But here you were, caught between two worlds, trying desperately to keep the peace. It was your idea to bring Rafe and the Pogues together for this mission. You’d convinced Rafe to help them track down Groff, who had made off with his money, knowing it could also give JJ and Pope a chance to evade capture. Even if you weren’t close anymore, you couldn’t bear to see the people you once called family thrown behind bars.

But, as expected, not everything had gone to plan.

The Pogues didn’t trust Rafe—and for good reason. His track record spoke for itself. As soon as they got him on the boat, they tied him up in the tiny bathroom, keeping him under lock and key. You understood their logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to see your boyfriend treated like a prisoner. Worse still, they’d forbidden you from seeing him until you reached Morocco. You didn’t fight them on it. Confrontation had never been your strong suit, and besides, you knew better than to argue with JJ when his mind was made up.

So, you sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull, the salty breeze brushing against your face. The solitude of the sea was both comforting and suffocating. It gave you time to think—about the choices you’d made, the people you’d hurt, and the fragile balance you were struggling to maintain. You wanted to believe this trip could be a turning point, a chance to bridge the gap between Rafe and the Pogues. But deep down, you knew the odds were slim. Trust was hard to rebuild, and the wounds on both sides ran deep.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you let out a weary sigh. All you could do now was wait—for land, for answers, for the moment when everything would inevitably come to a head. Until then, the sea was your only companion, its endless expanse reflecting the tangled mess of your heart.

-

Sarah was kind. She always had been. Even after all her brother had put her through, she still cared for him enough to make sure he was fed and hydrated. She did the same for you.

“Brought you some dinner,” she said, plopping down beside you.

“Thanks,” you responded softly. You took a few bites of the sandwich she brought you before putting it aside. Your appetite had been wearing thin the entire trip.

“I think it’s stupid too,” she said, looking out at the horizon while the late sun cast bright ripples on the calm water.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The whole Kook versus Pogue thing. Rafe’s done his fair share of bad shit, but haven’t we all? I really think he wants to help this time.”

“He does,” you said. “All he wants is to get his money back from Groff. He doesn’t care about the crown. Honest.”

“I know,” she said, offering you a soft smile. “We’ll be there soon. Try to rest.”

You pondered her words as she walked off. You weren’t overly close with Sarah. It was almost as if you and she had swapped lives. You started seeing Rafe around the same time Sarah and John B got together, and for the last three years, she’d been getting a taste of life’s adventures while you enjoyed the finer things. You loved Rafe. You were in love with him. You couldn’t imagine being without him. But you often found yourself missing the life you once lived with the Pogues.

You cringed as you swallowed one final shot of whiskey, a vice that did close to nothing to take the stress away. You tossed the bottle to the side and rolled over, closing your eyes and trying your best to relax to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Eventually, you were lulled to sleep, dreaming of Rafe. He smiled as he took you into his large arms, and you felt secure in his warm embrace.

The dream was short-lived, though, as you were thrown roughly against the hard wall of the boat. Disoriented, you struggled to find something to grip. Rain lashed against your face as the boat pitched violently from side to side.

You made your way to your feet and took in your surroundings. The storm had hit fast. You could see movement inside the helm as the Pogues scrambled to navigate the chaos and secure the boat.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your breath hitching. “Rafe!” your voice rose into a frantic scream as you stumbled toward the helm. You knew you had to find him—if he was left unsecured, he’d drown.

“Y/N, get inside!” JJ’s voice cut through the storm. You turned to see him and John B holding the door open, JJ’s hand extended toward you. You reached for him, but another violent wave threw you to the deck.

“Where’s Rafe?!” you yelled, coughing as salty seawater stung your throat.

“Kiara’s getting him!” John B shouted back.

Moments later, Rafe appeared in the doorway, drenched but alive. “Y/N!”

Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, but your joy was short-lived. A massive wave loomed on the horizon, crashing into the boat with terrifying force. You screamed as the water dragged you off the stern, the world disappearing into a churning abyss.

“Y/N!” JJ and Rafe shouted in unison.

“Rafe!” you screamed, fighting to keep your head above water. The sea clawed at you, threatening to pull you under. “Rafe! Help!”

“I’m coming, Y/N!” JJ’s voice rang out as he dove into the water after you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” John B yelled, trying to hold Rafe back from following. “JJ, no, no, no!”

But it was too late. JJ had already disappeared beneath the waves.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s scream was raw with desperation, tears streaming down his face. John B had never seen him so unhinged, so consumed by fear.

John B pressed his hand firmly against Rafe’s chest, forcing him back inside. “Come on, man! We can’t help them if we drown too!” he yelled over the howling wind. He shoved Rafe into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe sobbed, pounding his fists against the wall. “I have to go help her! I have to find her, man!”

“Rafe!” Sarah’s voice cut through the chaos as she wrapped her arms around him. “Rafe, it’s okay! Let’s just get to land. I’m sure they’ll find their way back!” She rubbed his back as he crumpled, his sobs echoing through the small cabin.

-

The water finally calmed as you and JJ struggled onto the sand, every muscle in your body screaming with exhaustion. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the relief of solid ground beneath you was overwhelming. Collapsing onto the beach, you coughed violently, lungs burning as you fought to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his voice ragged between gasps for air.

You nodded weakly, words feeling like too much effort. After a moment, you managed to rasp, “A-Are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minutes passed as you both sat in silence, trying to steady your breathing. The ocean stretched out before you, dark and infinite, illuminated only by a pale sliver of moonlight. A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts turned to Rafe—his face, his voice, and the uncertainty of whether you’d ever see him again.

“They’ll be okay, Y/N,” JJ said softly, his tone more reassuring than he probably felt. “At first light, we’ll head down the beach. We’ll find them.”

You nodded, swallowing back another wave of emotion. “Hey, Jayj?” Your voice was barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, gratitude lacing every syllable.

He turned to you with a tired but genuine smile. “Can’t kill a Pogue, right?”

The next thing you knew, the sun was warming your skin, its gentle rays coaxing you back to consciousness. The once-violent sea was calm now, its rhythmic waves bringing an unexpected peace. You stretched, muscles stiff and aching, before glancing toward the shore.

JJ was standing near the water, absentmindedly dragging his foot through the sand. You rose to your feet, brushing off grains of sand stuck to your damp clothes, and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

He turned, offering you a small smile. “Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Guess so,” you chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I passed out.”

“Not surprising,” JJ said with a shrug. “You were pretty wrecked.” His tone was light, but concern lingered in his eyes. “I was thinking we head up the beach toward where the boat was headed. If they made it to land, that’s where we’ll find them.”

You winced at the word if, the uncertainty slicing through your chest like a blade. “Okay,” you replied firmly. “Let’s go.”

For the next 45 minutes, the two of you trudged along the beach in silence, your shared determination a quiet bond. Every step brought a mix of hope and dread as you scanned the horizon for any sign of your loved ones.

“You know,” JJ said suddenly, breaking the silence, “they’re probably feeling the same as us—like they might never see us again.”

You shook your head, gripping tightly onto hope. “We’ll find them, Jayj. We have to.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “We will.”

A few more minutes passed before you gathered the courage to speak again. “JJ?”

He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do… Do you hate me?” The question felt heavy on your tongue, dredging up years of unspoken tension.

JJ’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. “No, Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.”

His words caught you off guard, and you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “It just… it felt like you did.”

JJ’s voice softened as he continued. “I was hurt. You were my best friend, and when you and Rafe got together, it felt like he stole you away. From me. From all of us.”

A tear slid down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. “I’m sorry, Jayj. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said firmly. “All you’ve ever done was try to keep the peace. I should’ve seen that sooner. And last night, when you fell off the boat…” His voice wavered, and he looked away. “All I could think about was how I couldn’t let you die thinking I hated you. You’re my sister, Y/N. You always will be.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. JJ hugged you back tightly, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you, Jayj. I’ve missed you so much,” you whispered.

He pulled back, his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna fix this. All of it. I’ll even make an effort with Rafe if it means getting you back.”

An hour later, the sun was high in the sky when you spotted movement in the distance.

“J, is that them?” you asked breathlessly, shielding your eyes with your hand.

JJ squinted at the figures. “Let’s find out,” he said, quickening his pace.

As you got closer, the shapes grew clearer: Sarah’s golden hair, Kiara’s familiar stance, and Rafe’s unmistakable silhouette towering above the group.

“Rafe!” you cried, breaking into a run.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening before he sprinted toward you. The moment he reached you, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Oh my God,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never see you again!” He cried.

“I’m here,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m safe. JJ saved me.”

When Rafe finally pulled back, his gaze shifted to JJ, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion. Without hesitation, Rafe approached him and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” Rafe said, his voice thick with emotion.

JJ stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, clapping Rafe on the back. “Yeah, well… couldn’t let her die on my watch,” he said with a crooked smile.

As you stood there, watching the two men who meant so much to you, hope swelled in your chest. For the first time in years, you felt like things might finally be okay.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[r1kixs]

riki is a tease

he knew his dick is big.

he was confident in himself and ever since he started dating you he wore grey sweatpants more often only to tease the shit out of you.

you two didnt have sex yet, just made out so far. and he LOVED how shy you got when you saw that big bulge in his sweats.

you always wondered how big it is, but you were too shy to ask. it bugged you so much you were even looking up on Google how to find out a guys dick size.

"big hands equals big dick" and you stood by that even though you wanted so badly to know from the source, not fucking google.

until one day, you were at his practice, sitting in the sofa that was placed in the corner of the big room.

your boyfriend came up to you when he needed water since his water bottle was laying next to you. god, he was wearing these grey sweatpants again.

your mouth watered and your pussy drooled at the very visible print in his pants. he reached for water, standing right in front of you, his dick almost right in your face shamelessly.

he knew what he was doing, he had this shit eating grin on his oh so stupid but handsome face.

"grab it."

"huh?" was all you could choke out of your throat at these two words.

"you keep staring at it. just grab it." he smirked, gulping down more water like he didn't just say something so freaky.

"i won't... do that..." you murmured shyly, pink pooling on your cheeks. he grabbed your wrist, guiding it to his crotch. you squealed, pulling your hand away.

"why not?" he chuckled, licking his lips. he knew what he was doing and he was doing it too well.

"not in front of... everyone..." you looked away, not knowing what else to say.

he rolled his eyes dramatically and looked behind him. the boys were play fighting and doing some weird shit.

"they aren't looking, just get a feel."

'should i...?' you thought, looking up at him then quickly stealing a glance at his crotch.

you reached out, hesitating for a second before cupping the bulge, squeezing. oh my god, it was so big. he was holding back from smiling too hard, looking down at your hand.

"enjoying yourself?" he teased, biting his lower lip.

"oh my god, shut up. fuck you." you whined, smacking his thigh and curling up on the couch.

"fuck you? I can do that." he flirted, enjoying it a little too much. he threw the water bottle on the couch, ready to walk away to the boys.

"how big is it?" you blurted out when he almost turned around.

"you don't need to know that."

"oh so it's small?"

"you know damn well it's not."

"then tell me."

"eighteen centimeters." woah.

"....really...?" he smirked, looking away. he was blushing.

"maybe." he walked away, going to the boys that were still play fighting.

'my pussy will hurt' was the first thought that came to your mind.

[simpjaes]

✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed.  or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute. 

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader  

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24

⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.

PREVIEW (3.1k):

no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined. 

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going. 

It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people. 

Do things without you clinging to him all the time. 

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so. 

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.  

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now. 

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face. 

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you. 

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice. 

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned. 

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.” 

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life. 

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need. 

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number. 

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead. 

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.” 

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college. 

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time. 

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days. 

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course. 

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.” 

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges. 

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak. 

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest. 

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated. 

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes. 

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.” 

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it. 

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?” 

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value. 

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.” 

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now. 

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester. 

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay. 

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.” 

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm. 

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore. 

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm. 

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up. 

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. 

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…” 

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top. 

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles. 

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away. 

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.” 

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does. 

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.” 

   ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame. 

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake. 

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo.  But looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent? 

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father. 

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.

Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood. 

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[hsnlv]

adorably mine! | l.hs

pairing: idol husband!heeseung x wife!reader

synopsis: heeseung’s been acting weirdly clingy lately, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why—he’s jealous. all because of one little comment about jungwon being cute. now you’re stuck dealing with a sulky, dramatic husband who won’t stop clinging to you.

warning: heeseung is in enhypen (no duh), mention of jungwon (idk if that needs a warning lmaoaoao), teeth-rotting fluff!, heeseung is superrrrrrr clingyyy and jealous and pouty and it’s sooo cute!!!

wc: 949

the way heeseung had been acting lately was enough to both frustrate you and make your heart swell at the same time. as much as you loved your affectionate, doting husband, his clinginess over the past few days had reached new heights—ones that were starting to seriously test your patience.

it had all started so innocently. a casual comment made during an outing with the rest of enhypen. you hadn’t even thought twice about it when you remarked how cute jungwon looked while practicing. after all, everyone knew you had a soft spot for adorable things, be it puppies, plushies, or jungwon’s leader energy.

but apparently, heeseung didn’t share your casual outlook.

the very moment the words left your lips, you noticed his head snap up, his usually soft brown eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at you. his lips had formed into the smallest pout, but you’d waved it off as a fleeting moment of jealousy.

if only you’d known what was coming.

𐙚🧸ྀི

it started with little things. like the way heeseung would suddenly hold your hand tighter whenever jungwon was around. or how he’d lean in closer than usual during conversations, as if he was trying to drown out the presence of anyone else. then, it escalated.

you’d never seen him quite like this.

“baby, can you please let go?” you asked, a mix of exasperation and fondness in your tone as you struggled to fold laundry. heeseung’s arms were snugly wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder.

“no,” he murmured, voice low and firm as if his very life depended on staying glued to you. his breath tickled your neck as he pressed himself closer, and his grip tightened slightly. “i like it here.”

you sighed, your movements slowing as you turned your head slightly to glance at him. heeseung’s brown eyes met yours, wide and pleading, a spark of insecurity flickering in them that made your heart clench.

“are you seriously still hung up about what i said the other day?” you asked, voice softening.

he didn’t answer, but the way he pursed his lips said enough.

“baby,” you tried again, your tone half-scolding, half-affectionate. “i call everything cute. you’ve known me long enough to know that it doesn’t mean anything.”

“yeah, but…” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t call me cute anymore.”

your heart practically broke at his words.

“oh, hee,” you cooed, gently prying his arms from your waist so you could turn and face him. “is that what this is about?”

heeseung shrugged, his pout deepening. his eyes dropped to the floor as he shuffled awkwardly, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“it’s not fair,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at you from under his lashes. “you’re my wife. you’re supposed to think i’m the cutest.”

you bit back a laugh, not wanting to hurt his already fragile ego. instead, you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. his cheeks were tinged with a faint pink, and he looked more like a sulky child than the confident, charismatic performer the world knew him to be.

“lee heeseung,” you said firmly, though your lips twitched with a smile. “you are, without a doubt, the cutest man i’ve ever met. no one—and i mean no one—even comes close.”

“not even jungwon?” he asked, his tone still holding a hint of jealousy.

“not even jungwon,” you promised, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose.

heeseung’s pout wavered, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he blurted out, “say it again.”

you blinked. “what?”

“that i’m cute,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter this time, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. “hee, you’re adorable. the cutest. the most precious. no one else even compares, okay?”

finally, his pout disappeared, replaced by a shy, satisfied grin. he leaned into your touch, his arms winding around your waist once more as he pulled you into his lap.

“you really mean it?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“of course, i mean it,” you replied, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

heeseung let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone. but just as you thought he’d finally calmed down, you couldn’t resist one last tease.

“though, now that i think about it, jungwon is pretty cute…”

heeseung pulled back so fast you almost lost your balance.

“baby!” he whined, his cheeks puffing out in frustration. “stop saying that!”

you burst into laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him back to you. “i’m kidding, hee. you’re the only guy i’ll ever want. no one else even stands a chance.”

he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, but the way he melted back into your embrace betrayed his resolve. “you’re so mean,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“and you’re so dramatic,” you shot back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

heeseung only hummed, a quiet, pleased sound that made your heart flutter. his hold on you tightened, as if he never wanted to let go, and you knew in that moment that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

“i love you too,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

and even though he’d surely find another reason to pout tomorrow, you knew you’d always have the upper hand—because heeseung was hopelessly, completely, head-over-heels in love with you.

[xazse]

Cw: A/b/o dynamics + Omegaverse + Alpha!Satoru x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Suguru + my Abo dynamics are different so sorry + mentions of anal + smut + knotting + crying + size difference + biting

If you’re meant to be Sugurus Omega that means you’re definitely Satoru’s, you don’t get a choice they’re a package deal, they can’t stand being away from one another so they went against everything that alphas stand for and bit each other: now fully intertwined with one another.

Suguru yearned for you, he knew he had to have you, those nights where he was ravishing Satoru and feeling something was missing, an itch he couldn’t scratch, he hated it, he hated how rough he’d get with Satoru even though the blue eyed man said he enjoyed it so much.

Knotting Satoru was something he loved but the thought of knotting your little cunt alone drove him mad, made him so hard he’d think about it all day, constantly having to go “adjust” himself.

When he finally had you, he went absolutely fucking mad, he couldn’t stop smelling you: you smelled like cookies and vanilla. He couldn’t stop licking your soft supple skin, your spongy cunt that he’d have to finger for a good while to get you ready.

And of course he’d have Satoru by his side just as thirsty for the sight of you, he’d be fondling your tits and giving you long drawn out kisses that you’re eager for, like a puppy.

There was no argument about who got to fuck your cunt first, that was always going to be Suguru, he was gonna be your first for your ass as well.

His leaky redden tip lined up with your awaiting slick hole, his counterpart distracted you with sweet words, Suguru couldn’t afford to be sweet right now, he slams his fat cock in one swift move, the whines that spill from you do nothing but egg him on. He pushes your legs toward yourself and the sound of skin meeting skin feels the room, he fucks your soppy pussy so messily, he’s been craving this for so fucking long, he’s constantly readjusting his long hair that he doesn’t bother to put up, your pussy is just the sweetest thing.

When his fat tip starts to swell inside of you, you’re crying into Satoru’s kiss, he knows it hurts, your first ever knot is always gonna hurt he tells you in a comforting tone.

You don’t know it but Satoru absolutely is obsessed with you also, you look so cute crying trying your best for them, trying your hardest to accept Suguru’s fat knot, youre small compared to them and he loves it.

When Suguru bites you, all you see it white, he isn’t surprised that you passed out, you’re gonna have to do it all over again when it’s Satoru’s turn.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[paarksunghoon]

holding Jake’s face still while you put his tooth gems on and he starts getting desperate n needy 💔💔💔 (from their daydream shoot, iykyk)

oomf this one is for u xxxxx

***

“Stay still.”

“I can’t when you’re sitting on my lap…makes my cock hard.”

“Jaeyun.”

He cracks a smile despite his cheeks being crushed between your fingers. Your other hand holds a tweezer with a small gem between the prongs and when Jake opens his mouth, you can see his teeth adorned with the decor he begged you to help him put on for a costume party at Heeseung’s.

You let go of his face with a forceful push and beckon him to open his mouth again. Jake obeys and doesn’t say anything, but you feel the palm of your hands rest against your waist when you put the gem on his empty tooth. He doesn’t look like himself when he’s got these accessories in his mouth and it’s making you worked up, even if you’d rather keep that bit of information to yourself.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad at me.” That makes you roll your eyes and pat his cheek harshly. Jake smiles up at you like a child who keeps pestering a babysitter after he’s been scolded. “See? Sexy as shit.”

“You’re insufferable, Sim.”

“That’s why you put your pussy right over my dick, right? Because you find me annoying? Because you don’t need my cock to get off?” Jake grins when you huff and dips his thumbs underneath the hem of your top to reveal your smooth, warm skin. His cock swells underneath your clothed lap and you feel him twitch.

You don’t tell him to stop when Jake uses his hands to pull and push your body over himself. He remains obedient and opens his mouth when to tell him to, but moving over his covered dick in your shorts makes putting the rest of these gems on his teeth insanely difficult. You’re annoyed—irritated that he started this to begin with and even more so because you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stop even though you have thirty minutes until you agreed to show up at Heeseung’s party.

So you resume putting the gems on Jake’s teeth while you comply with his hands and feel him squeeze your body when he realizes you’re grinding over him too. You push yourself off of his lap just enough to make his cock that much harder while keeping his head steady to avoid hurting him with the sharp edges of the tweezers. Jake’s obedient when the prospect of getting his dick wet, but you can’t say you’re too mad about it.

“Fuck this.”

Jake pulls the tool out of your hand and puts it on the table next to you before pushing you back onto his knees. Before you can complain, he pulls himself out of his slacks and squeezes the base as he looks directly into your eyes.

“Do you think Heeseung will care if we’re late?”

You tilt your head down to drop a wad of spit on his erect tip.

“Who cares?”

[thecoochiefairy]

gamer girlz. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, college football coded! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, kinda sorta makeup sex?, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, backshots, missionary, condomless sex, cumming on face, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 283737272 of liyah’s ovulation and faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. please enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic heavily, so enjoy those too.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon just wants to help you finish your game.

link. link. link. ony’s visuals.

YOUR FINGERS SHOULD'VE HURT AT THIS POINT. Swiftly moving from button to button, they tap the controls as you’re on another level of the game you desperately wanted to beat.

You had some time off of studying, and this is how you wanted to spend it. Your boyfriend was at football practice—although a part of you just wanted to be swarmed up in his arms, your attention span also had you elsewhere—this damn game. You enjoyed the older games, replaying the hardest version of Batman: Arkham Asylum, your boredom peaking your interest back in the game you’d had since childhood. 

You didn’t even register that the door had opened, or maybe you didn’t just care enough. You knew who it was. You eye him dropping his keys against the counter, black hoodie over his head, sharp jaw grunting lightly from his sore muscles, scowl along his face—definitely had to do with practice. 

You pause the game for a second, turning your face to the side, fuzzy socks along your feet, his large jersey slung along your body as you greet him, “Hell, baby. What they’ do to you?” 

“Coach was on dick today. Had me running laps cause other niggas couldn’t catch the ball and I got mad,” he huffs, taking his helmet and slamming it on the counter next to him. He massages the nape of his neck, sighing deeply to himself. 

“Now you know coach don’t like all that cussing on his field,” you sigh, “He knows you're good. That’s why he’s on your ass.” 

“Nah. He just annoying as fuck. Can’t expect me to do everything.”

He’s like a child, grumpy and pouty. His tall frame comes closer, wanting your attention in response to his rough day at practice. 

“How’s my baby?” he says in your ear, wrapping his large muscular arms around your waist and gently biting your shoulder. His broad frame shadows under his hoodie, tat against his face shining under the lights of your shared apartment, full lips moisturized—you’d never let him leave the house otherwise. 

You give him a soft laugh, rubbing your fingers over his durag as you say, “I’m fine. Had some time off studying, tryna’ beat this game. I meant what I said, Ony. He doesn’t just give you a hard time because he’s bored. You’re his star player, gotta make sure he ain’t treating you like everybody else.” 

“Don’t tell me you on yo’ nerdy stuff. C’mon. I’m sore,” he groans, his grip around your waist tightens and he pushes himself against you. 

“Oh, is it nerdy shit when you’ screaming on the game playing 2K with your friends? I was gonna offer a little massage. Now you’ve lost your entry to that,” you say, trying to push him off of you, reaching for the controller in between your lap. 

He doesn’t budge. He holds firmly onto you, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck to distract you. 

“Don’t be like that. I was kidding, you know I like that shit,” he huffs, his breath against your neck as he presses his lips on the sensitive part of your skin, “Forgot to tell you, I got an away game coming up in a few weeks. So I’ll be gone for like, a week.”

Your head comes down a bit to look directly at him, “What? You’re not coming with me to my parents? You know the holidays are coming up, Onyankopon. I told them you’d be there.” 

“You know imma’ just be sitting around hiding behind you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath tickling you. 

It’s not that he’s shy— rather, he just doesn’t enjoy the unnecessary attention. 

“How ‘bout we do our own Christmas, before I go?” 

He’s nuzzling himself against your neck now, his hands roaming all along your body. You press his body away from yours, standing up as you become annoyed. 

You then say, “I wouldn’t be going up to my parents place if you didn’t agree to come with me in the first place,” going into the kitchen, searching through the freezer. 

He runs a hand over his face, seeing how instantly irritated you became. He knew having his support for the holidays meant a lot to you, and he might’ve waited on telling you about the going away game to lessen your disappointment. 

“Mama,” he calls, watching you from the sofa. 

You turn, raising an eyebrow as you say, “Oh, so now I’m Mama, you love hitting me with that shit when you know I’m mad.” 

“You know I don’t like going to those family functions, I swear that house always stinks cause yo’ auntie cooks that nasty ass fish. A week ain’t no big deal. Let’s just have our own thing here.” 

“So which one is it? You don’t wanna go or you got your football shit?” You narrow your eyes, pulling the ice pack from the freezer, arms crossed as you come back closer to him.

He knows better than to lie, especially to you. 

“They got some NFL scouts coming to this game,” he mutters, scratching his temple. I’m sorry. But I’m tryna’ go pro, you know that.”

“Mhm.” 

You hand him the ice pack, “Put it on your knee. I know it’s been sore lately.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You’ not mad?”

“Did I say I was mad? You’ want the ice pack or not?” 

He takes the ice pack, wincing once the coldness hits his knee. He knew you were gonna give him a scolding if he didn’t.

“You’ got a bad ass attitude right now.” 

“I wonder why, Onyankopon? If we had plans to go back to your parents house for the holidays and at the last minute I told you I have exams and that I just didn’t wanna go, you’d be irritated too.”  

“Damn, you gon’ be on my ass about this for the next three weeks?” 

He didn’t like it when you were like this, cause instead of being pissed you were more disappointed, which was somehow a lot worse to him.

“I’m gonna be gone for a week.” 

You scratch your nails in between the baby blue orchid claw-clip that holds your curls. You dismiss him, “You need to go shower.” 

“What, you ain’t tryna’ join me?” he murmurs, a smirk on his lips, “Quit being mad. I’m tryna love on you. Wanna put on The Isley Brothers and give you a rub down.” 

“You’re playing too much right now,” you deadpan, “Bye Onyankopon.” 

“What’ you mean bye?” he says, his smirk turning into a frown.

“I’m finna’ go finish studying,” you’re already walking back towards the bedroom, ending the conversation off as that. 

When you finally hear him smack his lips and make his way into the shower, you glance over your notes, deciding you weren’t gonna let him ruin your previous plans. You’re now back on the sofa, eyes set onto the screen, trying to defeat the computer generated opponent. 

You switch over to the sound of the bathroom opening, seeing him re-tying his durag back on, basketball shorts baggy and house shoes on his feet. His tattoos all along his face, neck, chest and arms always had your attention—but not as much attention as you usually gave him at this moment. You sprawled along the furniture, elbow deep into the couch's pillow as one leg laid straight out, while the other bent itself over the top of the couch. 

He doesn’t like how you’re paying no attention to him. As stupid as it sounds, he’s always got to have your eyes on him. They were pretty. 

“You’ still mad? You for real ain’t finna’ give me a massage?” 

“I’m good,” you swiftly respond, “Just playing my game. You can massage yourself.” 

“Why you’ gotta be like this?” 

He sits down next to you, his large frame takes up a lot of the space. The couch becomes smaller somehow. His eyes watch the game intently before he decides to get comfortable. Lying back down on the sofa, he lets his head rest in your lap. Even with you being irritated, you let him lay there. 

You continue going up level by level, your focus intently on the game. The little argument between you and Onyankopon irritated you to say the least, but you didn’t have the energy to completely push him away. It’s unfortunate he was persuasive. You notice out the corner of your eye that he lifts his head a little, the warmth between your legs along the back of his neck, and that’s when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under his jersey.  

He takes the time to admire you, legs lazily hung open, his eyes staring directly against your pussy, scenting of vanilla on your legs, freshly shaven. One of his large hands comes to rest on the back of your thick thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“What you’ got on?” he mutters.

“Had to wash clothes, didn’t have any underwear. That’s why I put on your jersey,” you tell him, eyes still not looking at his face, unable to see how his jaw clenched at the sight. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. In that moment his large hand rubs along the skin on your thigh, pushing the jersey up further.

“You look good as fuck in my shit,” He mumbles, a low rasp in his tone.

“Thank you,” you say in a softer tone, mainly because you’re distracted, buttons pressing harder against the controller. 

He can tell how focused you are—how your face scrunched up, the way your fingers move, even the way your thighs fall open on his head.

He’s getting impatient.

That’s when you feel him lean down, giving a gentle peck to your inner thigh. The feeling makes you tense a bit, but you still keep your eyes against the screen, huffing out a breath as your character is close to dying. This level was difficult. 

He’s giving small, light kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, taking small intervals to glance up to you as you keep your eyes against the screen. His hand moves higher up on your leg, slowly pushing the jersey up even more.

Your eyes go to him for a millisecond, seeing as his head is down, lips attached to your thighs, sucking ever so gently on your skin. You can almost feel a pressure building in your stomach, the slow ache of his movements almost purposeful, teasing you in a way. You press your glasses up against your face, huffing out a breath as you mutter, “Stupid ass level,” trying to come up with a reason as to why you sound so breathless. 

He grins as he’s laying there, hearing your breathing getting heavier. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying to focus on the game, but he’s working you up.

“You’ trying so hard, Mama,” He murmurs against your hot skin, his kisses trailing to the spot he knows is extra sensitive.

You shift your body, clearing your throat as you say, “Gotta restart,” adjusting your legs a bit, opening them up just a little more than before. 

He can tell how you’re slowly giving in, how you’re shifting your body around, legs opening just enough for him to move closer. He lets his free hand come to caress your stomach, rubbing against the skin under the fabric of the jersey. His lips are so close to you, his breath is hot against your skin. 

“Restart then,” He mutters, tongue now coming to flick out from his lips, gliding across your skin, hiding beneath the pillows of his lips as they begin sucking a dark red mark against you.

You narrow your eyes lightly as you restart the level you play, but your body is distracted by Onyankopon’s lips along it. You drag your teeth along your lip a bit, pressing your fingers harder into the controller, feeling his lips coming up higher. 

You could feel the arousal you had flooding in between the lips of your pussy, protecting your clit as it now begins to pool farther down, dampening the couch. His large fingers wrap along the outside of your thighs, using his thumbs to pull the skin on the inside apart, showing the dark pink of your pussy, squelching at his presence. Your body tenses even more as you feel his thumb meet with your clit, rubbing so softly against it, dropping his mouth down to press another kiss to your skin. The leg hiked up against the top of the sofa trembles a bit. 

“You’ winning?” You hear him murmur against your skin. 

You take a deep inhale, squeezing your fingers against the hooks of your controller as you softly reply, “No.”

He circles your clit with maddeningly light touches, barely grazing the swollen nub. At the same time, he’s still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth. 

"You’ getting distracted. Wet ass pussy," Onyankopon murmurs appreciatively, feeling the slick evidence of your arousal coating his finger.

Your chest heaves a bit at his tone, but you don’t let up. You keep your eyes on the screen, but you seem to be losing. In both games. 

He spreads you even wider as he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He pulls his thumb back as he replaces it with his mouth, giving you an innocent kiss against your clit. His beard captures your arousal, your fingers shuddering as you hear him groan, “Ooh, fuck, Mama. You’ wet for real.”

Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. He releases it with a lewd pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your slit, lapping up your dripping arousal. Your eyebrows deepen into a frown, lips trembling as you give one more press to your controller, before you take your hand and reach it to the back of his head, getting a clutch against the knot of his durag. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clasping your mouth shut as you whimper for him.

He delves his tongue deeper between your opened folds, dragging it up and down, lapping up to create more secretion. His hands grip your thick thighs, spreading you obscenely wide as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Mmmm, this a nigga favorite fuckin’ meal," he rumbles, voice muffled by your flesh. He alternates between slurping you up and flicking rapidly, determined to make you fall apart. One hand slides up to grope your ass roughly, kneading the plush flesh.

“O—Ony…” you gasp, voice small and high pitched, fingers squeezing harder against his head, dropping the controller out of your other hand, the object hitting the ground with a thud. The music of the battle within the game becomes something you hear, but not as loud as his mouth gulping you down, heavy tongue sopping against your pussy, drenching his beard so much that he could drown in you.

“Pretty ass voice,” he encourages huskily, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through your core. He dips two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt, pumping them slowly as he continues his relentless assault on your clit with his tongue. The wet sounds of him feasting on your pussy fill the room, mixing obscenely with the forgotten video game noises.

His free hand roams your curves possessively, groping and squeezing every inch of exposed skin he can reach—your ass, your thighs, the underside of your breasts. You’re lost in a haze of pleasure.

You were always so sensitive to his touch, the pleasure that you received from him kept you so kidnapped that it was hard to be mad at him. You grind your clit along his mouth that waits to catch it, voice ineffective of composure as you struggle, “Gonna cum soon, Ony…” 

“Yeah?” He grunts, head knocking up and down, your eyes only able to watch as his lower face disappears in between your legs, glistening a coat against his beard, “Where you wanna cum?” 

“On your dick, baby…” you whine softly, rotating your hips gently to match his moments, “Please…”

"You wanna cum on your dick, Mama?” He coos against you, the sound reverberating through your core, you’re whimpering with an urgent nod, “Mhm,” before he can even finish his sentence. 

He pulls himself back, already tugging his tip from beneath his basketball shorts, taking off the material as your eyes follow the curve, the vein in his dick, heavy against the stretch of his large palm. Tattoos spread against his pelvic, scriptures and inspirational quotes that didn’t belong in his blasphemous moment.

"Turn around, put that ass in the air for me.“

Your legs feel a bit numb, bringing yourself up as you know exactly how he wants you. Raising your left leg along the arm of the couch, you lean your breast over the top as your face hides beneath your arm, right knee digging into the seat of it. He places his fingers along the side of your neck, other hand digging into your thigh thrown over the furniture. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him—you always give him your eyes, feline as they blank beneath his control. Your body trembles as he slams his palm against your ass, “Arch more,” your body following suit, deepening the valley your silhouette creates. 

He grips your hip with bruising force, using the leverage to grind the swollen head of his dick teasingly along your soaked slit. Up and down, he rubs himself through your slick folds, coating his length in your essence. Your hips tense as you feel the weight of his tip stretching open your pussy, sinking in that it makes your abdomen cramp, aching in a pleasure that has your entire body tighten. Your eyes are beginning to roll back, digging your nails into the sofa as you keep your eyes on his, he looks mad at you, slamming his palm against your ass again as he grunts, “Keep that fuckin’ arch.” 

Your chest is filled with oxygen, holding your breath to cure the slight discomfort you feel, but it’s also an agonizing pleasure, feeling so full from him. He’s slowly dragging himself halfway out, rolling his hips back in and going even deeper, your mouth dropping open as your eyes flutter shut, turning your head back towards him as you whimper, “Fuck, baby. You’re deep…” 

Silence goes in between the both of you, savoring the rush of pleasure that clutches the air as he drags his first couple of thrusts, so slow it felt like time wasn’t even passing. The sedated actions almost feel better than if he sped up, his eyes locking down as he sees you painting his tip, creaming on him. 

“I’m in your shit, huh?” he talks to you, it’s almost tortuous as he hilts himself fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit. Your walls clench around him like a vice, your head tilting back as you completely tense. You whimper, “Ungh,” attempting to push him back to relieve the stimulation, jumping as he gives you a bruising spank, deep voice aggressive as he says, “Uh-uh, don’t do that. You know I don’t do that running shit.” 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he starts up at a carnal pace. The wet squelch of your pussy being split open echoes obscenely in the room, mixing with your deep whines, nodding your head, gently dropping your hips against his abdomen to meet his strokes.

“Keep riding that dick, goood fuckin’ girl,” each thrust is punishing and deep, stirring up your insides. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely as he rails into you, chasing your pleasure to insanity.

You always try to keep up, but you never could. All your organs feel tossed around by him, so blinded in your erotic state, your mouth opens as you give long moans, deeply gasping each time you need to catch your breath. He brings you to a point of saying things you’d never thought would leave your lips, mouth parted as you groan, “Yes, yes, baby. Agh, fuck, Ony. Deeper.”

"You want this dick deeper?" He growls, accentuating his question with a thrust that has your eyes rolling back farther. His grip on your hips tightens, surely leaving finger-shaped bruises on your toffee skin as he sets a merciless pace.

He’s back at palming his hand brutally against your ass, rushing it up to come around the front of your mouth, resting his fingers there as he grunts, "Take this fucking dick then," yanking your head back.

The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his hips slapping against your clit, “Finna’ tear this fuckin’ pussy open.” 

His filthy words mix with the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together, filling the room, it has you groaning through his fingers. 

“Love you so much,  baby—“ this was a regular routine, the affection you give him as he’s hitting that spot that only he could find, whines plummeting from your mouth, eyes to the back of your head as you reach back and grab onto his wrist that holds your hip, moaning louder each time he rolls his hips back to meet the weight of your ass matching his rhythm.

“What happened to you being mad?” He questions, going slow as he tugs you back into his dick, the echo of your skin bouncing off each other like a drug induced round of applause. 

You shake your head, “Not mad at you, Onyyy,  love you so much….”

He chuckles darkly, low and rumbling in his chest as he leans over you, pressing his muscular torso against your back. His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I know you do, Mama. I love you too.” 

One large hand slides up from your hip, reaching around to splay across your stomach as the other now tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. He rolls his hips in a slow, deep grind, stirring you up from the inside, your mouth releasing broken shouts, your face hot, pleasured tears wanting to stroke along your face. 

"Fuckin’ love you, princess. Pussy was made for me,” He gives another sharp thrust, grinding against your cervix. "You’ getting tight as fuck—You’ cumming, Mama?”

“I’m….” You gasp, defeated in your inability to speak, taking your hand and reaching back to hold his face closer to yours, hips trembling as you dangerously moan in a cracked tone “I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming. I’m—agh,  c—cumming…”

His chuckle is dark with lust as you flutter and clench around him erratically. He grips you harder, using the leverage to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"Good job, baby. Biggg fuckin’ girl. Cum on this dick. Fuckin' soak it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. One hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he continues his brutal pace.

Your whole body tenses and shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, a loud cry tearing from your throat. Your pussy spasms almost violently around his thick shaft, gushing against him so much it pushes him out of you, trying to milk the sensation for all it’s worth. 

“I’m finna’ bust, baby,” he warns, groaning in your ear, “Come eat this dick up.”

Your body feels numb as you turn yourself towards him, immediately wrapping your lips along his tip, enveloping the taste of your own arousal within the walls of your mouth, sucking him in to reach the heavens of your throat. He clasps your hair within his palm, bobbing yourself back and forth as you reach down, rubbing your clit as you still feel your orgasm rushing through your body. You moan around him, giving him those cat eyes, fluttering your dark extensions as you swirl your tongue against his tip, begging for a reaction.

He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as your warm mouth engulfs him. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as he starts to thrust shallowly into your throat.

“Shit—just like that. Eating that dick up good as fuckk," he pants, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips. The sight of you—eyes fluttering, cheeks hollowed, one hand buried between your thighs—it’s almost too much.

He pulls your mouth off him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening tip. With another smack to your ass, he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs. 

"I wanna see your face when I nut in this pretty ass pussy." 

He lines himself up and sinks back in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out instantly, clutching your throat, holding you down as your back arches up, clawing into his back at the visceral sensitivity.

He sets a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of your joining filling the room. His intense gaze locks with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in every expression that crosses your face.

"That's it, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up real good," he grunts as you whimper with his talking, “Ba-by,” angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. One hand slides under your thigh, pushing your leg up and back to change the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to pound into you. His tongue dominates your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin as he chases his release.

"Fuckk, finna’ cum soon. You want it in you, baby?”

“On my face baby, you say it’s pretty there,” you whimper, deepening your nails in his back, “Mmmph, c’mon, Ony. Please…” 

A grin spreads across his face at your pleas. Grabbing his throbbing tip, he positions himself at your face, smearing the leaking pre-cum across your cheek. He’s moaning, stroking himself rapidly, aiming his tip at your parted lips. His free hand grips your chin firmly, keeping you in place as his strokes become erratic. He then cums, painting your face—across your cheeks, over your lips, some even landing in your waiting mouth.

You stick your tongue out, running your tongue over your lips that darken in color, bruised as you dig your teeth into them with a sultry giggle. Heavy breathing fills the room as you keep your eyes up at him. 

He steps back as he says, “Hollon, baby,” going into the bathroom as he finds a towel, rubbing it along your face to clean you up. He then leans down, pulling you into a kiss as he grunts, “Gimme’ your mouth. I love you, Mama. I’m sorry.” 

You give him a kiss, holding his face in your hands, running your tongues together sloppily, passion filling your entire body from the previous actions. 

You say, “It’s okay. You’ want your massage now?”

He pulls his mouth back a bit, eyeing you before he chuckles. It makes you pout, “What’s funny?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he helps you stand, “Nothin’ Mama. Just thinkin' 'bout how quick you forgave me after I tore your ass up."

You roll your eyes, “I can always change my mind.” 

He runs a hand down your side, squeezing your hip possessively. "Chill out. I want that massage. You know I'm always ready for your magical hands."

He stretches languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his tattoos as he leads you towards the bedroom, “ And don’t be all stingy with the lotion. Do that lil’ thing I like if you feeling extra generous.” 

“You’ getting beside yourself. Do you need that?”

He turns, “Do you?”

You scrunch up your nose, “No. I want a massage next!”

“Exactly. C’mon, get that ass on the bed.”

[rmview]

when you’re just too cute, ATEEZ.

featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — headcanons of what the ateez boys are like when you’re just too darn cute for words!

contents — fluff, cute aggression, no warnings.

hong ♥ joong

⟶ tries to play it cool but ends up stuttering whenever you do something adorable. ⟶ covers his face with his hands to hide his smile and mutters, “stop, you’re too much.” ⟶ pulls out his phone to record you, pretending it’s for memories but secretly watches the videos later. ⟶ uses your cuteness as inspiration for lyrics, often scribbling down phrases like, “you make my heart skip a beat.” ⟶ calls you “too dangerous” jokingly because your cuteness distracts him from work. ⟶ tries to tease you to balance the power dynamic but ends up melting when you pout. ⟶ gifts you oversized clothes because he thinks you’d look even cuter in them. ⟶ regularly mutters under his breath, “how can someone be this cute?” ⟶ always gives in when you ask for something in a sweet voice or with puppy eyes. ⟶ quietly brags about you to the other members, but acts nonchalant when they tease him about it.

seong ♥ hwa

⟶ softly pinches your cheeks and coos, “how are you so cute?” ⟶ tries to remain composed but ends up giggling whenever you do something adorable. ⟶ constantly offers to carry things for you, saying, “cute people shouldn’t have to lift a finger.” ⟶ gently fixes your hair or clothing while smiling fondly at you. ⟶ buys you cute accessories or plushies that remind him of you. ⟶ holds your hand more often, just so he can admire how small and delicate it is in his. ⟶ whenever you’re being too cute, he jokingly says, “i can’t handle this,” and pretends to walk away. ⟶ talks about your cuteness as if it’s a world-changing phenomenon. ⟶ tries to teach you his “cool” expressions but melts when you fail adorably. ⟶ protectively hovers around you in public, thinking everyone else must also find you too cute.

yun ♥ ho

⟶ laughs so hard at your cuteness that he has to sit down to recover. ⟶ constantly pokes your cheeks or playfully taps your nose, saying, “boop!” ⟶ teases you about how adorable you are but gets flustered when you call him cute in return. ⟶ loves it when you match his playful energy, especially with silly poses or expressions. ⟶ challenges you to aegyo battles but declares you the winner every time. ⟶ takes a million photos of you doing cute things, claiming he needs “evidence.” ⟶ randomly hugs you tightly and says, “you’re too cute. i’m keeping you.” ⟶ tries to keep a straight face but bursts into laughter when you catch him staring. ⟶ complains jokingly, “you’re going to give me a heart attack with that cuteness.” ⟶ encourages your cute behavior, saying, “don’t ever change. it’s perfect.”

yeo ♥ sang

⟶ quietly stares at you with a small smile, occasionally muttering, “so cute.” ⟶ pretends to be unbothered but blushes furiously when you catch him staring. ⟶ gently pokes your cheeks and murmurs, “i don’t think this is fair.” ⟶ buys you matching items, like plushies or keychains, because he loves seeing you happy. ⟶ when you’re being especially cute, he hides his face in his hands, saying, “you’re killing me.” ⟶ tries to tease you, but his soft voice gives away how much he’s enjoying it. ⟶ loves watching you get excited over little things and secretly takes pictures of those moments. ⟶ often uses your cuteness as a reason to spoil you. “how could i ever say no to that face?” ⟶ gives you his hoodie, just to see how adorable you look drowning in it. ⟶ sometimes tells the members, “they’re too cute. what do i do?”

san ♥

⟶ dramatically clutches his chest and exclaims, “i’m not strong enough for this!” ⟶ squeezes you in tight hugs and says, “you’re like a teddy bear. so squishy!” ⟶ constantly tells you how adorable you are, no matter what you’re doing. ⟶ pinches your cheeks gently while giggling, “so cute, it hurts.” ⟶ acts jealous if you’re being cute with the other members, saying, “that’s my cuteness!” ⟶ shows you off to everyone, bragging about how “the cutest person in the world” is his. ⟶ whines playfully when you’re cute during serious moments. “how am I supposed to focus now?” ⟶ randomly bursts into song about how cute you are, complete with dramatic gestures. ⟶ insists on taking selfies with you every time you do something adorable. ⟶ calls you his “weakness” and dramatically pretends to faint when you do aegyo.

min ♥ gi

⟶ laughs and squeezes you to his chest uncontrollably whenever you do something cute, sometimes until tears form. ⟶ ruffles your hair constantly, calling you his “little fluff.” ⟶ teases you about how small you are compared to him but secretly adores it. ⟶ tries to mimic your cute expressions but ends up making you laugh instead. ⟶ randomly picks you up and spins you around, saying, “i can’t help it — you’re too cute!” ⟶ constantly compliments you, saying, “you’re like a real-life cartoon character.” ⟶ pretends your cuteness “annoys” him but can’t stop smiling. ⟶ buys you snacks or small gifts just to keep seeing your excited reactions. ⟶ gushes about you to his members, saying, “they’re so cute, i don’t know what to do!” ⟶ like yeosang, always gives in to your requests because, as he says, “how can i say no to that face?”

woo ♥ young

⟶ playfully scolds you for being “too cute,” saying, “this is illegal!” ⟶ mimics your cute behavior but makes it extra dramatic for laughs. ⟶ pretends to faint or clutch his heart every time you do something adorable. ⟶ constantly calls you pet names like “cutie pie” or “baby.” ⟶ shows off your cuteness to everyone, saying, “look at them! aren’t they the cutest?” ⟶ takes countless candid pictures of you and saves them in a special album. ⟶ whines jokingly when you’re cute, saying, “you’re going to ruin me!” ⟶ pulls you into playful dances just to see you smile and giggle. ⟶ teases you, “you’re lucky i love you, or i’d be jealous of how cute you are.” ⟶ admits in quieter moments, “i never thought someone could make me this soft.”

jong ♥ ho

⟶ tries to act unaffected but ends up smiling every time you’re cute. ⟶ gently pokes your cheek and says, “you’re not supposed to be this cute, you know.” ⟶ loves teasing you about your cuteness but secretly thinks it’s the best thing about you. ⟶ randomly sings for you when he’s overwhelmed by your adorableness. ⟶ pretends to be “tough,” saying, “cute things don’t work on me,” but folds instantly. ⟶ often shakes his head in disbelief and says, “what am i going to do with you?” ⟶ buys you little treats or gifts, claiming, “i couldn’t resist because it’s cute like you.” ⟶ protectively hovers around you, saying, “you’re too cute to handle the world alone.” ⟶ laughs when you try to be serious because look adorable while doing it. ⟶ although always admits, “i don’t think i’ll ever get used to how cute you are.”

notes: i’m actually against doing the same trope for multiple groups, but if this is something you guys like then i might do it for my other groups too!

[lalchimiedecupid]

it's all fun and games until I start hating you and I hit you with a large ass essay that expresses my frustration and exhaustion with your neglect and the hurt you've caused me.

Exemple:

To my dearest boy who broke my heart and left it to pieces with one missing shard in hand that keeps it from healing:

Love. A vile and twisted thing you remain in my eyes. For I have never loved someone and got to keep them in my heart for all eternity. It seems like the universe, God, have odd ways of pulling their strings when it comes to love, slow, torturous and often unexpected goodbyes grace us at the end.

It's been six months since you left me. Six long and excruciating months, and I can not put into words the disdain I feel towards you. Yet, I find myself staring longingly at you, find my heart racing at your mere sighting. You've become a dependency of mine, destructive yet fulfilling like the crimson drink I drown myself in. Like the pills I abused my body, my organs and my mind with. You'd bring me a sense of Euphoria, but what did it leave me with once your presence was gone? Pain. So much pain I can not even manage to put it into words. You were my oxygen. My will. My life. My sin and my soul. You were all that I needed. You were all that I wanted and still want even more. What should I call it? Soulmates who were never meant to be? Right person wrong time? Strangers to friends, friends into lovers and what now, strangers again? How low do I have to stoop down in order to make you want me again? I know you still want me, I can see it in your lingering eyes, yet you offer me silence and silence all over again. What did you do to me? What more could you possibly want from me? How much do you want to see me beg and try to make it up to you for all the hurtful words you've heard from my friends? How many "I'm sorry" do you want to hear fall from my lips and seem to always land onto deaf ears? What more do you want from me? Why do you ignore me again when you promised to be my friend? Was I not enough for you? Is it that hard to forget the girl you wanted beforehand? I know I am delusional to hold onto a love that clearly has perished long ago, but please for the love of God, let me cry into your arms for the first and last time so I can truly let you go. Let me sob my heart and guts out to you just for a few moments at least, I do not ask for more. Let me confess my desires , my dreams, my secrets and my pain to you. Even if they shall fall onto those ears of yours that you turn deaf on me every single time I try to get your attention. Let me. Please, allow me this. Let me find solace in your embrace even if it's cold and unwanted. I'd get down on my knees for you and let you kill me with your coldness. Let you freeze my heart and devour it whole if only a piece of me gets to be held by you, my darling boy. You have reduced me to a ghost of the strong woman I once were. And I am ashamed of myself for it, yet I can not even blame you for my downfall, because despite it all, I was an accomplice as well. Destroy me for all you want , I'll always come crawling back to you, with all my broken parts and my gaping wounds, bleeding into your own hands.

Just one last embrace is all I ask of you. I know you'd refuse me more. You cruel bastard. You heartless devil.

Go on and destroy me and watch me build back my pieces only to destroy me again. Go on and ruin me. Go on and put unnecessary distance between the both of us, because you are far too much of a coward to face the truth.

The truth is that you want me but are far too afraid of commitment, of new beginnings that you'd rather stick to the past and hope for the best. Hurt me. Hurt me all you want, but you'd never rebuke me from my church. From my sanctum, from your arms, from your hold. Rebuke me for my sins of loving you but know that I still hold you in high regards, that I still pray for your well-being, for your success, and your future. Know that against all odds..

I still love you.

—C.A

oh to be loved by a poet … 🎀

[karaeilishh]

Hello! I loveee holiday fics they are just so cozy and cute! Do you think you could write about Billie and reader's first Christmas together, where reader has a tough family life so reader stays with Billie's family and it's finally a holiday where reader is all safe and happy? I'm a sucker for fluff-- hope all is well!

𝜗𝜚 you are my family b. eilish . . .

xmas fic n. 1

“billie, i’m still not sure..” your voice trembles slightly, either from the cold or from the excitement that has been spreading through your chest for the last few hours. this wasn’t the first time you’d met billie’s family, and you could tell they loved you, the way maggie’s eyes lit up when she saw you holding her daughter’s hand tenderly every time you came over to their house. they’d all been so nice to you, but celebrating christmas, no, that was different. you’d probably be too much.

“i’m afraid i’d be a burden to you,” your eyes trail down to where her fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. you could barely feel your fingertips through the snow that was so cold it was hard to feel, but that was okay, her icy hand was warming the frost on your pale red skin. “how it was with my family”

you almost let the memories wash over your thoughts when her soft voice stirs your existence. “angel, look at me, please” her blue eyes, so heavenly and bright, taking on a fairytale hue under the warm light of the street lamp. you look at her, already knowing what she’s going to say, how she’ll calm you down. but you just need to hear her say it, need to know that she’s still on your side.

“how can you think that you’ll be a burden to us?” there’s genuine confusion and worry on her face as the cold pads of her fingers caress your cheeks and you give in to her touch, closing your eyes for a few seconds. “do you think that my girlfriend, the only woman i love, could be a burden to me or my family?”

you can tell how much she wants to raise her voice and shake your shoulders, just to make you realize how much she loves you. how much she wants to spend this christmas with your head on her chest and her fingers softly running through your hair.

“that’s the thing, bills” your brows furrow in an almost pathetic, whiny way as you look up at her. “they’re your family. and i.. i just—”

she shakes her head, tightening her grip on your face slightly, cutting you off from the few words that were almost falling from your lips. “you’re my family” the intimacy of those words makes your heart and stomach drop somewhere down to her feet. your eyes fill with tears incredibly quickly, lips starting to tremble as you try to say anything, but instead you throw yourself into her arms, burying your face in her shoulder. the snow that has accumulated on the boucle of her coat burns your cheeks and temples, but it doesn’t matter right now.

the way she hugs you tightly. this is what matters.

“you have no idea how much they love you, baby” soft kisses on the top of your head calm your nerves, helping you catch your breath and pull away to look into her eyes filled with love. “but i love you more than all of them combined”

it took you a couple more minutes, which billie patiently gave you, before rang the doorbell. your stress almost immediately went away as soon as you saw maggie’s beaming face, greeting you first with a warm hug, ruffling your hair slightly. she treated you like her daughter, always. “hi, my girl!”

you take only a step forward, not even making it into the house, before finneas’s arms wrap around your body. his grip is strong, but it doesn’t hurt at all, only billie grunts behind you. you laugh loudly, letting him lift you slightly off the ground.

"we missed you, little girl. especially shark" his words make you smile from ear to ear and immediately go to find your favorite boy in this house. shark greeted you more joyfully than anyone, almost jumping into your arms. you kneel down to hug him and scratch behind the ear.

"be gentle with my girl!" the menacing voice of billie makes her father laugh, who just entered the room to greet you. "i'm sure she won't mind a big hug" you were a little afraid of him, but the warm look he gave you made you calm down.

you slowly get to your feet, immediately heading into billie's arms and receiving another gentle kiss from her. "feeling better, baby?"

"yes, a lot" your whisper calms billie down, and she can finally take her to the kitchen to make christmas cookies according to their family recipe, because you are part of this family too.

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova