#go on and tell me the only reason I’m not able to move back into my room is bc you keep forgetting you want to buy some new blinds

[strawbearyxx]

unexpected comfort— kang dae-ho x reader . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

word count: 2.4k (at first i was planning for 500… yeah no)

warnings: mentions of death + anxiety

pairing: gender neutral!reader x kang dae-ho (if there’s any hint of fem!reader i’m sorry)

no nsfw!

this is my first time writing a fic like this !! any feedback is accepted and lmk if you want a part 2! i hope y’all like it ! dae-ho is such a sweetie :3

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for the first time since you arrived, you regretted joining the games. you really needed that prize money, but after seeing player 196 and many others being shot during red light green light, all you wanted to do was go home. player 456, seong gi-hun, kept shouting at the players to stop moving and calm down, but you were too overwhelmed. how could you calm down when people were dying right by your side? suddenly you were grabbed by a pair of strong hands— “get behind me, we need to stay in lines, you heard him,” the man said. you nodded and clung onto his shoulders, desperately wanting to survive. you moved in the line, shaking violently in fear. the man in front of you— player 388, his jacket read— touched your arm in comfort. although he was only slightly trembling compared to your shaking, you could sense a mutual understanding between yourselves. as the line moved forward closer to the finish line, your worry dissipated. you were able to drown out the loudspeaker and gunshots by focusing on the shoulders of the man in front of you and the second pair of hands that clung to your waist from behind. after what seemed like an eternity, you reached the finish and immediately collapsed to your knees in relief.

as you were led back into the main room, you immediately laid down on the bed you’d claimed. you wanted, no, needed, to be home. you could’ve died back there, and there were only more games to come. the eerie voice read off the numbers of players who were killed… player 419, player 048, player 196… you shook your head, trying to escape from the visual of their deaths. the bed beside you suddenly creaked— startling you a little at first. eager for some company, you lifted your head and sat up to see who it was. your eyes widened— not only was he the the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, his jacket read “player 388,” meaning he was the one who had saved your life in the first game. you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off immediately— “player 127, huh. you were behind me in the first game, weren’t you!!” he smiled. you nodded slowly, “yeah, that was me. thank you for saving my life, i was really panicking back there.” you smile and laugh nervously, while he brushes your words off. “it’s nothing!! i was a marine, i’m a little used to it,” he says with a wide grin. he looked unusually happy for someone stuck in this death trap of a game. “i’m dae-ho, kang dae-ho, what’s your name?” you tell him your name, starting to feel comforted once again by his presence. however, he was so cute that he made you anxious at the same time. you learned that he had four older sisters (and was a god at gonggi) and that he was in the marines. you sensed that he was proud of it, he’d already mentioned it more times than you could count— but you found it endearing nonetheless. he was so vulnerable with you and you’d only just met! you opened up to him about the reason why you were here— you took out more loans than you could handle and couldn’t afford your home anymore. this was your last resort, hoping to win your life and your family’s respect back. dae-ho seemed touched by your story, immediately laying a hand on your back. “when did he get so close?” you thought to yourself, while dae-ho continued to rub circles on your back with his thumb. you turned slightly red, ever so conscious of his touch, but still relaxed slightly. “don’t worry,” he whispered. “we’ll make it, we’ll win this and get out, okay?” you smiled back at him, looking into his eyes. “we’re going to make it, i trust you to protect me and i’ll do the same for you. it’s nice to have someone to rely on in a place like this.” dae-ho opened his mouth to respond to you, but your moment was cut short from the familiar monotonous voice coming from the overhead speakers. “attention players, please make your way towards the center of the room for voting.”

you and dae-ho stood up, curious about the voting. “what could we be voting on? is this the second game? i thought it wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow,” dae-ho questioned. “maybe they’re splitting us into teams or something. at least that’s what gi-hun is telling us,” you gestured to gi-hun once again screaming to the players in the middle of the room. “i trust him. he seems a little crazy, but he was right about the first game, you know?” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “let’s get on his side, he knows what he’s doing. we’ll be safer there.” the voice on the loudspeaker started calling out the player’s numbers from 456 down. “look, he voted x,” dae-ho whispered as gi-hun pressed the red button. “let’s go with that one,” you said as dae-ho nodded enthusiastically. “the red x means we get to leave. i want to get out of here, even if it means going back to the life i had before. i’d rather do that than die.” more players voted, their numbers being called out one by one. “player 388,” called the voice, and a loud buzz rang out as dae-ho pressed the red button labeled “x.” soon after, it was your turn, pressing x to join dae-ho. you don’t want to admit it, but you’ve taken quite a liking to dae-ho— and not just because he offered to protect you. you needed to get your feelings under control before he or anyone else noticed. you didn’t want to him to change his mind about protecting you and sticking together or even worse, take advantage of it and betray you. despite gi-hun’s words, the “o” side won, meaning they would have to stay the night and participate in a second game. you looked to the other side, seeing the voters cheer. “greedy bastards,” dae-ho whispers in your ear. “they could care less if people die, they just want the money for themselves. they’ll turn on each other eventually.“ you nod in agreement, wishing you were able to leave this hellhole. at least you have dae-ho by your side.

the players were then served dinner— if you could call it that. you pushed around the soggy rice, trying to coerce yourself into eating. dae-ho sits beside you finishing off his tray. he encourages you to eat, telling you “you need energy for the next game tomorrow. finish it, please.” you oblige, spooning the rice into your mouth despite your lack of hunger. the players wander aimlessly around the room, some already forming groups. “x” and “o” voters stay separate, not wanting to mingle with anyone who voted against them. gi-hun and some other players, player 390, player 001, and player 222, were gathered around a nearby bed. setting his tray down, dae-ho asks, “do you want to go over and join them? a group of two will never last against these big groups of five or six.” you agree, and dae-ho pulls you up from the bed and walks with you over to gi-hun’s group. you blush, not expecting him to grab your hand like that. “why is he affecting me this way?” you wonder, “it’s only casual touches. anyone would do this, and here i am turning red over him touching my hand. i have to get it together, i’m in a literal death game.” unknowingly, you appear visibly frustrated at your emotions which only causes dae-ho to ask you what’s wrong. and dae-ho, as you’ve now realized, is a very touchy person— he comforts with his hands and his words. so naturally, he starts rubbing your shoulder, assuming you’re frustrated at the voting results. “it’s nothing, dae-ho, i’m… i’m just thinking that’s all.” “alright,” he responds, “but just know i’m here if you ever need anything. and really, i do mean it.” he smiles again, the image already cemented in the back of your mind, and you can’t help but turn even more red at his words. you really hope he doesn’t notice. “thank you dae-ho, i really appreciate it,” you try to sound as relieved as possible to conceal your flustered state. gi-hun and player 001, who you learned was named young-il, suddenly started talking to dae-ho, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you internally scold yourself, knowing relying too much on someone else could hurt you— or in this game, even kill you. but dae-ho was too tempting; you already missed his touch and his soothing words. you both joined gi-hun’s group, which hopefully would distract you.

until a few hours later, when dae-ho suggested you sleep in the same bed. “gi-hun said people fought at night in the previous games. they’d be less likely to attack us if we slept in pairs, right? look at gi-hun and young-il. they’re sleeping in the same bed to protect each other!!” dae-ho says excitedly. “dae-ho i don’t think that’s the reason why they’re—“ he cuts you off, saying how he “wants you to be safe” and “needs to make it through the night in one piece.” he seems really excited to protect you and you find it extremely cute. your face gets hot at even the thought of sleeping next to dae-ho, images of his arms wrapped around you already flooding into your mind. “hey, you listening?” dae-ho questions. “we have to pick a bed soon, 10 minutes until lights out!” you catch the tail end of the announcement over the loudspeaker and realize he’s right. “okay, let’s go to this one!” you say as you point to a bed on the second level. “it’s high up, so we can see if anyone’s coming. plus, gi-hun is keeping watch close by, so he’ll be able to warn us!!” dae-ho nods and starts climbing into the bed. you follow, swallowing your anxiousness as you imagine sleeping next to dae-ho. you make it up the ladder and lie down next to him, your heart rate quickening ever so slightly.

you’re hyper aware of his presence— you’re able to feel his heart beating and his chest rising and falling with every breath. you tense up as you feel his face brush against your neck. he seems to sense this tension, soothing you by saying “we’ll be alright, we’re gonna make it out, yeah? we can protect each other.” you nod, telling him “yeah, we’re gonna be alright.” your voice shakes slightly, you’re struggling to hide the fact that dae-ho’s closeness is making you more flustered than you’ve ever been. by now, dae-ho notices the effect he has on you and wants to fluster you even more. he’s smiling to himself— he thinks you’re so cute and loves that he can get you this worked up just by being next to you. he wraps his arms around you slowly, asking “is this okay? you seem stressed and i thought you might need some comfort.” you squeak out “yes dae-ho” and lean into his touch, grasping at his hands with your own. you give into your inner desires, saying “this is more than okay, i really like this dae-ho,” while he holds you even tighter against him. you have a sudden urge to turn around and kiss him, but you hold back purely because he feels so nice wrapped around you like this— you don’t want to ruin it. dae-ho runs his fingers through your hair enjoying how it’s silky and smooth to the touch. he plants quick kisses on your head, speaking softly to you in between them— “we’ll be okay, you know that? i’ll always be here for you, i’ll always protect you.” you are a blushing mess at this point. yes, the comfort’s nice, but he’s gotta know what he’s doing by now. dae-ho keeps mumbling sweet things into your ear, and all you can do is nod and continue to melt into his touch.

the lights go out, yet dae-ho shows no signs of wanting to sleep. he continues cuddling you, arms never leaving your waist unless running a hand through your hair. you’ve become relaxed, already used to his soft touch. you eventually turn around to face him, looking into his wide eyes in the dim light. you can’t help but notice how pretty he looks like this— his lips are slightly parted and his hair is free from his usual half-up half-down style, a few strands hanging into his face. you gently brush them away, giving yourself a clear view of his handsome features. you make eye contact for a short moment in a comfortable silence, the only sounds to be heard were your soft breaths. dae-ho leans closer, your nose brushing against his own. you feel his breath against your skin and shudder slightly at the warmth of it. “can i try something?” he whispers, looking into your eyes again. “please dae-ho,” you whisper back almost immediately. you need dae-ho’s lips on yours, you need to feel his hands in your hair again— you just need him. dae-ho leans in, and your lips connect in a gentle but passionate kiss. you savor the moment, not wanting to ever let go. your hands find his hair and you press yourself closer to him, needing to be enveloped by his warmth. dae-ho continues the kiss, deepening it ever so slightly. you drag your hands out of his hair and caress his waist, rubbing it as dae-ho continues to kiss you. after a moment he pulls away panting slightly, the biggest smile on his face. you can’t help but grin back, not expecting dae-ho to want you that badly. “dae-ho…” you whisper, needing more of him. he notices your desperation, and kisses you again, but only for a split second. “shh, we have another game tomorrow. we need rest,” he says as he smirks at you. “see, everyone’s asleep.” “not gi-hun and young-il!” you counter, giggling slightly. dae-ho looks over and sees that gi-hun wasn’t the only one who was keeping watch— he actually had young-il by his side. “okay well besides them,” dae-ho laughs, “but we still need rest!! we can fall asleep in each other’s arms. you know, i’ve been thinking about that since the moment i saw you.” you blush, not expecting dae-ho to share your fantasies. “dae-ho i’ve been thinking about that too,” you say as you bury yourself into his chest. dae-ho wraps his arms around you once again, holding you tight while stroking your back. you fall asleep almost immediately, and dae-ho kisses your forehead before falling asleep himself. you sleep soundly in his embrace, almost forgetting about the games completely.

the end~

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[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

7. “Something to celebrate.”

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has liked, commented, or reblogged this story. I truly didn't imagine it gaining this much traction. I hope all of you continue to read. Anyway, a LOT happening in this chapter, so I won't take any more of your time;)

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, smut, explicit language, references to alcohol abuse, misogynistic language, explicit language, mental health struggles

Taglist: @marihoneywk @amarawayne @chimmy-licious

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Fuck.”

His grunt was muffled against the back of your neck. Unable to help it, his fingers dug painfully into your inner thigh, which he was holding up to give him a deeper entry. His seed burst into you as you both moaned.

This was you way of celebrating your first morning waking up next to each other, with you fully moved into the apartment. This was your home now, your bed.

“I love you.” you exhaled.

Spent, Jimin pulled out of you and kissed your temple, “I love you too, you little minx.”

His hand smoothed over your hip to find rest ok the side of your belly. At almost twenty weeks, you were definitely looking pregnant.

A faint smile drew across your face, “Hormones, or whatever.”

“Mm,” he kissed your neck again, “Glad I could satisfy. You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.”

You laughed and turned your head so you could kiss his lips slowly, the world slipping away for a moment. It could now only be you and him, locked faithfully together with your unborn child nestled comfortably within you.

True, there had been some bumps in the road with your argument, the Namjoon situation, and with your parents, but the two of you were breaking through all of that. Your relationship felt stronger and better than ever before.

When your lips parted, he sighed. You read his mind immediately, with the trip to LA looming over both of your heads. The flight would be early the next morning.

“Don’t go down this road again,” you whispered, “Doctor Yoon gave it the green light, and pregnant women fly every day. Plus, I won’t be alone. Chae will be with me.”

“I know,” he spackled his worries over with a grin, “It’s a very long flight, though. It’s going to feel so uncomfortable for you and I don’t want it to affect your sleep. Lack of sleep can raise your blood pressure.”

You giggled a little bit, adoring how much he cared for you . You sat up and scooted off the bed so you could head into the bathroom, “Countless things can raise my blood pressure, Jimin. Now why are you the one getting all worried, hm? You were the one who told me not to be concerned. Doctor Yoon approved this trip, and she would have said something if she was worried about my or the baby’s health.”

“You’re right, but do me a favor for my own sanity?”

“Hm?”

“Tell Chaeyoung about it,” he pleaded, “That way, she will be able to look out for you when I’m not there. It would make me feel a lot better with not being able to watch you like a hawk.”

You would be with her for most of the trip. For PR reasons and to avoid rumors, stylists were always flown separately from the boys.

You picked up his boxers off the corner of the bed and threw them at his face, “If that’s what will get you to relax, then fine.”

He chuckled as he balled up the underwear in his hands. As you disappeared into the master bathroom, he decided he wasn’t done toying with you. Smirking mischievously, he rolled out of bed and followed you.

You were brushing your sex-knotted hair in front of the mirror. The changes to your body were immaculate in his eyes. The fullness of your breasts and belly was so maternal. It created some kind of spiritual beauty that he’d never imagined. He adored how you had a little extra cushion on top of your hip bones and in your face. Your hair was silkier. Even your lips were a bit puffier.

And to top it all off, his cum was leaking down your legs.

As you brushed, he stood behind you, drinking in the sight through your reflection in the mirror. His hands cupped around the bottom of your bump, lips planting on your shoulder.

“You are the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.”

You yawned deeply, putting your plastic hairbrush down. Your head fell back to rest on Jimin’s collarbone, eyes closed.

“And the most tired.” Jimin chuckled, kissing your jaw.

You grinned with a hum, letting him sway you gently, “Getting fucked at twenty weeks pregnant can be taxing.”

His low chuckle was another octave below normal, as it was the morning, “You asked for it sweetheart. Don’t think I don’t know what it means when you shift your ass against me like that.”

“You were asking for it,” you giggled, rubbing your belly along his hands, “Your morning wood and the way you held me tighter was quite the tell.”

The two of you stayed like this for a minute or so.

“At least it’s Sunday. You have all day to recuperate.”

You gently broke free of his hold and went to jump in the shower, “Not entirely. I haven’t packed a thing for this trip."

She was folding her boyfriend’s boxers and sorting them into a small pile on his bed. It was in her nature to offer assistance with things like this whenever he had a lot on his plate.

Namjoon finished whatever emails he had to send and made his way into the bedroom to contribute to the stuffing of his own suitcase. He paused in the doorframe and crossed his arms, letting his back rest against the post as a smile crept onto his face.

She was beautiful even performing the most mundane of tasks.

“Hana,” he sighed, “You really don’t need to be folding my underwear.”

Her round, dark eyes met his with humor, “I know. I guess I just wanted something to do.”

He could have sworn she became more endearing every day. With a laugh, he removed himself from the doorframe and went to crouch on the floor beside her, beginning to fold a pair of pants.

“Should be a fun trip.” Hana said.

Namjoon drew in a breath and spoke it out, “Yeah…should be.”

She pursed her lips, trying to appear amicable to his perspective, “You don’t need to pay her any mind, you know. You could decide to simply go away on business with your closest friends in the world and be content.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands pausing all motion, “As a friend, that’s impossible.”

Hana rolled her eyes. As much as she adored the man beside her, she was beginning to wonder how correct his speculations were on this matter.

“Joonie, I love you, but this grudge of yours seems to be getting you nowhere. If you can’t be in close proximity to this woman, why on earth did you agree to that get-together with everyone?”

“That has nothing to do with her. I just miss being around the guys like that. I don’t intend on so much as speaking to her.” his tone reeked of bitterness.

She rubbed his shoulders, “What happened to the wise Namjoon? This is unlike you. I hate to say it, but I can see why this has grown a rift. I don’t believe you are being reasonable.”

Her tone was so gentle that it couldn’t possibly stir anger.

He continued to fold his clothes and pile them into his suitcase, “I can understand how it appears that way, I really can. But baby, you weren’t there when Seoyeon broke his heart. I have never seen a man so shattered. Jimin has always been a sensitive soul. And though he’s strong, I fear that another incident like that would break his spirit irreparably. He can’t handle that again. You weren’t…you weren’t there, Hana. He was drunk all the time, he stopped caring about anything, saying really…worrying things.”

He'd never mentioned it before - the episode. It was one of the worst moments of his entire life. Flashes of that dark morning ran through his mind, causing him to wince.

Her heart dipped, “I see. But, she pulled him out of it, right? She showed up and he’s been happy ever since.”

Namjoon bit the inside of his cheek, his tone dropping, “I see what you’re saying, and I even agree. I don’t deny that she makes him happy.”

“But…You’re trying to get him to give up on his happiness.”

“He was happy with Seoyeon too, Hana.”

She stood up, heading into his closet to grab some socks, “What evidence do you have, beyond mere speculation? I know you said she apparently she's told people that the father has wealth...but you don't know for sure that it's even true. Even if it is, are you sure that proves your theory?"

He groaned, "Why are you pressing so much? And yes, I believe it gives me a reason to be worried for Jimin."

"I don't think so." she muttered.

Namjoon huffed, turning his head to look at her, "Well I do."

"I think-"

"You're the world to me, baby, but I don't care to know what you think right now."

She ignored his warning, plopping some pairs of socks into his suitcase, "I think that at this point, you simply want to be right. You have dug your heels so deep that it's no longer about reason. You just want to win."

Now a heat began to rise between his ribs, "If 'winning' means that my younger brother doesn't go past the point of no return, then yeah, Hana. I want to fucking win."

The young woman softened. Her resolve to go to battle weakened once she realized there existed a story untold. Instead, she knelt beside him, looping her arms around his tense neck.

She kissed his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He let out a breath and pulled her in for a quick hug, “I am too. And maybe I’m wrong. I just can’t risk feeling comfortable with her right now. I’m the only one in the group with his guard up. Until there is proof that her intentions are genuine, someone has to be vigilant.”

Hana grinned sympathetically, pushing some of her highlighted brown hair behind her ear,“You’re a really good friend, Joonie. But maybe the lack of any wrongdoings is the proof, you know? If she was really going for fame, she could have gone public a long time ago. You said they’ve moved in together, right? And still nothing?”

It gave him pause.

“Yeah, they have.”

She landed one final thought before the topic would be dropped, “Try to open your mind just a little bit, hm? If you want to be a good friend, then you also need to be prepared to be incorrect. Otherwise, you might miss out on something really amazing happening for Jimin. For all of you, really. One of you is going to be a father. If Y/N isn’t some gold digger, then this is good, right? Something to celebrate.”

Your knuckle was firm around the handle of your wheeled carry-on. You were waiting in line to show your passport so that you could then proceed into the security area for bag checks. Chaeyoung had texted you that she'd gotten out the door late and that her husband would be dropping her off in a short while. You didn't blame her - she had her twins to care for and say goodbye.

You were dressed in your most comfortable clothing possible, without overheating yourself on this humid first of September. The top you had on was Jimin's - an indistinguishable plain white t-shirt. He'd owned it for years and it came from a non-designer brand. It had a couple holes along its hem and a small tear on the right sleeve.

This new stage in your gestation had you growing out of your normal clothes, and almost none of your tops fit. For bottoms, you had a pair of black biker shorts. These were the only real maternity wear you had thus far, accommodating your swelling bump well enough to not make you feel suffocated.

Standing in line gave your mind time to wander. You thought about how you’d bid your boyfriend farewell at the apartment. You had to be at the airport earlier than he did. A small smile came to grace your features as you thought about his gentle touch, the way he held you and kissed you, making you feel secure as the most important person in his life. How he got on his knees to give the baby a kiss before you went out the door, his hair wet and slicked back after just getting out of the shower.

Any reminiscing was cut short by the sound of a young woman’s squeal. It was soon followed by a swarm of others, and a rush of quickened footsteps in one direction. As everyone else in the waiting line did, you lifted your head to see what the commotion was about.

You should have known.

Behind and enclosed by their security guards, the members entered the airport. They were closeby, but you could only faintly catch a glimpse of Jimin before a group of people gathered to block your view.

People were clambering to see them, buzzing past you like a flock of birds. One young woman, blinded by the frenzy, ran into the back of your shoulder, barreling you forward.

Unable to catch yourself on your suitcase, you fell to the white terrazzo floor with a thud that no one could hear above the screaming. Thankfully, your body’s protective motions kicked in and you landed on your palms first, giving yourself a split second to reinforce yourself on your knees, guarding your belly from impacting.

The woman who was standing behind you was quick to come to your aid. She had long espresso hair and bangs, dark eyes filled with concern, “Oh gosh, are you alright?”

She put her hand on your back and the other held your forearm as she helped you to your feet.

“Yes, I’m okay,” you said with a raised voice so she could hear you, “Thank you so much.”

You hadn’t noticed you were doing it, but your hands were on your bump, making it more apparent. It was as if you were trying to soothe your mind, or your child, or both.

The woman glanced down, “Oh, I didn’t even realize. Are you out sure you’re alright? I can call for the medical staff to check you out.”

You offered a nervous smile and waved your hand, “No, no I’m okay. I appreciate it, though.”

The woman’s eyes were in your torso for a moment. Then she sighed, placing her hand on her own abdomen, which was rounded unmistakably. She looked further along than you were.

“No worries. We have to look out for each other, don’t we? BTS shows up and suddenly no one cares about running over a pregnant woman.”

You laughed lightly, “Yeah, apparently so.”

The line began to move a little, and you both shuffled forward where you could.

“So how far along are you?” she asked, her tone oozing with a honey sweetness.

“Twenty weeks.”

“Halfway,” she chuckled, “I’m Twenty-eight.”

Your brows raised as you gladly engaged her, “Wow. You look great, by the way.”

She beamed, “Thank you. Believe me I don’t always feel that way, but I’ve been assured that it will be worth it.”

It was a pleasure to be able to relate to someone like this, “Same. Is this your first?”

The woman nodded.

“Me too,” you sighed, moving up in the line once more, “Anyway, where are you traveling?”

“Los Angeles,” she said, “My husband is wrapping up on some business there. We’re going to treat this as something of a babymoon.”

You giggled, “I am too! Not for a romantic getaway, though. For work.”

“Oh, how funny,” she laughed, “Let’s grab a decaf together then, as we wait to board. Takeoff isn’t for another hour or so.”

You were the next person in line now, waiting to be called forward by one of the security officers to show your identification.

“I’d love that,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

She nodded her head, “Seoyeon.”

It took all willpower to not appear shocked and slightly horrified.

Your mind made every attempt to rationalize so you wouldn’t freak out.

Perhaps this was a coincidence. There was certainly more than one woman with that name. She didn’t have to be that Seoyeon.

You feigned a smile, pointlessly hoping that somehow Jimin or Chaeyoung would come and whisk you away from her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Seoyeon.”

“Next, please.”

The security officer’s voice rang out, calling you up.

You turned away from her and all traces of contentment disappeared. You went slightly pale as you approached the desk, taking out your passport to show.

The officer examined your identification and instructed you to look into the face scanner. Once you were clear, you took off into the next zone. Your mind was spinning as you took off your shoes and put them and your bag into bins. So much that you didn’t hear the airport personnel calling you up when it was your turn to step into the body scanner.

When you were through security, you sat on a small bench and jammed your shoes back on, which was tricky with your feet being as swollen as they were. Seoyeon was right behind you.

She sat on the bench next to you to put her own shoes back on, smiling, “At least after all the waiting, they take you through quick.”

You mustered up a chuckle, “Yeah.”

The pair of you got up at the same time, a couple of pregnant women feeling uncomfortable for varying reasons.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her bag, “There’s a coffee shop this way.”

Reluctantly, you wheeled your carry-on after her. A part of you wanted to decline, and another was curious to know if this was really her. Was this really the woman who’d broken Jimin’s heart? The one he’d been in love with for longer than he’d known you?

Chaeyoung had mentioned that she ended up marrying a wealthy man, and this woman was dressed in fine clothing. Her suitcase was designer, but that didn’t confirm anything.

You just wanted to know.

You ended up sitting down at the coffee shop with her, ordering yourself a decaf iced latte. Sitting across from her, you got a much clearer view of her face. She was gorgeous. Aside from nearly perfect hair and a flawless complexion, her lips were a pretty bow shape, stained with a nude rose color. Her eyes casted a twinkle. She even smelled lovely, like jasmine.

“So,” she sighed happily, removing the paper wrapping from her straw while glancing at your shirt again, “You said you’re going to LA on a work trip. What do you do?”

You had no idea how to answer. If she was the Seoyeon and you told the truth about your job, then maybe your answer would trigger a response in her to give you confirmation. Then again, would you want to share that information? You were meant to be discreet, and certainly in your situation, you were in no place to be risky.

You used taking a sip of your coffee as a means of buying yourself time to think of a response.

“I’m in fashion,” you said after swallowing, “There’s a shoot I’m working on.”

She seemed intrigued, “Wow, that sounds amazing. I once envisioned myself going into a creative field like that. But I’ve been around the industry a bit and I found it…challenging.”

Though still lacking one hundred percent certainty, that comment didn’t help her case. You came closer to believing it was her.

You took another sip of your cold, bitter drink, “Did you? How come?”

“Ah, it’s not important,” she waved it away with a laugh, regaining a sense of nonchalance, “Just isn’t my scene. I mean you saw with BTS coming through here. It’s pandemonium, chaos.”

You raised your brows, “Yeah. Anyway, what do you do?”

She hummed as she sipped on her drink, “I work at my husband’s firm, but I will likely stay at home after the little one gets here.”

Her husband’s firm. You recalled Chaeyoung saying she’d married a CEO. One step closer.

The more it sank in that this was likely the woman, the further the pit in your stomach dug.

“That’s nice,” you nodded, “I’m doing the same.”

“My,” Seoyeon’s eyes were on your collarbone, “We seem to have a lot in common, don’t we?”

You smirked, masking your rising repugnance, “We do.”

At last, your saving grace arrived, though it was awkward as could be. Chaeyoung appeared and spotted you. Her beaming smile faded slightly when she saw who was with you. Despite your own discomfort, you had to play it off as if you had no idea who you were talking to. Your coworker never told you the name of Jimin’s ex. If you gave any indication that you had connected the dots, it could raise suspicion in your friend. You should have had no way of knowing.

“Hey!” she approached you both, “So sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting for me long?”

“No, not at all.” you said.

The woman sitting across from you seemed to recognize her.

Her face was pleasant as could be and she looked at Seoyeon, and then back at you, “Do you two know each other?”

"We just met," you said while glancing across the table, "This is-"

"Seoyeon," Chaeyoung nodded, bowing to her politely, "I remember perfectly. Um, I don't know if you remember me..."

She nodded, "Ah, yes. I do recall your face. You're a stylist, correct?"

Your colleague affirmed, "I'm Chaeyoung."

Then she seemed to put the pieces together, looking at you while sipping her coffee again. When her lips parted from the straw, she grinned at you with a dimmed enthusiasm, "Oh, so you're a stylist too. The same company?"

You both nodded in reply, and her eyes grew a hint of skepticism. She knew you were with BTS, and that you knew her ex. But she didn't know the half of it, and that gave you the upper hand.

"I see," Seoyeon trailed off, unlocking her phone, "Oh! I didn't realize the time. I forgot to mention that my husband is expecting a call from me."

Then she rose from her chair and grabbed her bags, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. And to see you again, Chaeyoung. Please excuse me."

"Of course. It was nice to meet you as well. I hope you have a great babymoon." you bid her farewell.

With her coffee in hand, she left the cafe area and started in the direction of the gate. Then Chaeyoung sat down in her place, her expression changing to one of flabbergastment.

She put both of her palms down on the table, "Okay, first of all, I'm sorry I'm late. The twins were cranky and I had trouble getting out the door."

You smirked, "It's fine."

"Second of all," she wasted no time in lowering her volume, "That woman is Jimin's ex. The one I told you about."

You pretended to be surprised, though you knew it in your gut already, "Oh, shit. But I thought you said she was a total...well, bitch. Honestly, she was very kind. We started getting acquainted after she helped me up. She seems nice."

"Wait, you fell?" Chaeyoung's eyes were full of concern, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It happened when the guys showed up, actually. There was a bit of a scuffle and I got shoved," you shrugged, "Anyway, that's not the point. Funny enough, she's going to LA too."

Your friend looked disturbed, "Right...We may have to give the company a heads-up."

You almost choked on your cold beverage, "What? W-Why?"

"Just out of precaution. Y/N, this person came close to blowing the lid on their relationship and causing a giant press nightmare for the boys. I'll never forget how torn up Jimin was..."

You looked down, "I understand that. But why would she pose a threat now? She's married, she's having a baby of her own. I feel like she's moved on by now. Plus, she was clearly intimidated by us. You saw how she got up and walked away. We made her uncomfortable, maybe even ashamed. I know she probably brings back bad memories, but it's in the past."

You were conscious of the fact that you were partly trying to convince yourself, but you also felt that it was logical. Seoyeon wasn't who she was back then. She was a married, pregnant woman who seemed to have no time to get involved in drama again.

Chaeyoung sighed, "Well I guess for my own moral clarity, I'd still like to notify someone. They'd rather have all the facts, you know?"

There was a pit in your stomach, "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

You finished your coffee before you realized, sipping away nervously as you thought about how you would break it to your boyfriend. If she told Management, they'd certainly give him a call.

To your right and across the wide hallway, there were the giant window panels with a view of the tarmac. A smaller jet roared as it glided down the pavement, lifting off the ground in a tilt.

"That's probably them," Chaeyoung said quietly, "The boys."

Lost in thought, you nodded, voice low, "There they go."

The flight was halfway over. His thumb and his index finger kept rubbing together subconsciously. He was unable to sleep, though weary.

He shifted in his roomy reclining seat. It could turn into a makeshift bed, if wanted. Many of the other members, or at least the ones he could see, had taken advantage of this luxury feature. Some light snoring could be heard - Namjoon’s, but he was sitting on the opposite end of the cabin. The two men still were hardly speaking, even when in close proximity.

Taehyung was nearby and awake, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. His face reflected the light of his screen, as the cabin was dark. It was nearing dusk, still plenty of light outside, but all the windows were shut to allow for better sleeping conditions.

Alert and bored out of his mind, Jimin checked his phone once again to see if you’d replied to his texts. He knew better, aware that you probably put your phone on airplane mode, but couldn’t resist. However, when he saw no reply from you, he sighed and decided to open the window next to him. Perhaps watching the skies could occupy his thoughts for a while.

Taehyung heard his sigh from across the aisle and looked over.

There was never mistaking Jimin’s inner feelings, especially with this second youngest member. Only a couple months apart in age, their bond had always been unique - rocky at times like siblings, but overall especially linked.

The younger cleared his throat and said quietly, “Talk to me, Jimin. What’s up?”

He looked over with a pained expression, not even bothering to conceal anything, “I’m sitting here, on a private jet. With so much space in my seat that you could fit two of me. I can recline and stretch my legs. I could even press this button here and the chair will vibrate on my back.”

He looked around to make sure that no flight attendant or outside individual was nearby. Luckily, their security guards and the attendant were sitting on the other end of the plane, out of earshot.

Jimin leaned closer and lowered his voice, “Meanwhile, my pregnant girlfriend is flying commercial, probably uncomfortable as hell. It just feels so wrong. I should have pushed for her to be onboard with us.”

Taehyung chuckled, “You know why you couldn’t have done that. Then, we’d have to have Chaeyoung as well, and there’s no room.”

“It’s not funny, Tae,” his brows furrowed shaking his head out of annoyance, “We found out at the ultrasound that her blood pressure is too high. If she doesn’t sleep or eat well or keep her stress down, it could be dangerous for both of them.”

His bandmate’s face softened, as did his tone, “Oh shit…I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But she was given the okay to travel anyway?”

Jimin sighed, “Yes. It was more of a warning, not an immediate risk. I know I’m kind of being irrational. If the doctor said it’s fine, then I should trust that. I’m just worried is all.”

Taehyung grinned a little and reached across the aisle to put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake, “Well I think that probably just comes with the territory of being an expectant father. It would be concerning if you weren’t worried.”

He nodded, “That may be true, but that does nothing to change my guilt about her comfort. If anyone should have a nice, cozy place to sit for this long journey, it should be her.”

“I agree with you, I do,” the younger said with more reservation, “But it just had to be this way, unfortunately. Y/N has proven she’s tough going through all of this. She’ll be fine and when you two get home you can spend all the time you want doting on her.”

The thought made Jimin chuckle as he leaned back to his original position in the seat, “Actually, she wants to spend time decorating when we get back. She brought all of her wall art and fake plants with her. Safe to say I think my apartment is about to undergo a feminine transformation.”

Taehyung laughed in return, “Nothing wrong with that. You barely decorated your place to begin with. It could use some wall art and fake plants and shit.”

“And throw pillows,” he laughed quietly as he thought of you carrying in that giant black trash bag full of them, “So many pillows…”

The other shrugged, “Eh, let her make it what she wants. Make the place more homey before the little bundle of joy gets here. You have a nursery to build too, my friend.”

His head his the back of the seat, “I know. So much to do. We haven’t even discussed names yet.”

“You still have months for that.” Taehyung said.

There was a silence that fell between them, both daydreaming for a moment. Jimin pictured what was currently a guest bedroom transformed into a nursery, perhaps painted a different color. Toys littering the floor. A crib along the wall with a mobile hanging overhead. A small, precious new person tucked safely in its confines. He couldn’t stop envisioning a baby girl in a pink onesie.

“You’re so ooey-gooey,” Taehyung chuckled, “Looks good on you.”

He shrugged, but he couldn’t contain his smile, “It’s been a lot, but thank you.”

*The next day*

Your alarm went off, and you were already awake from the hunger. You got in late the night before and found a small bite to eat, but you were still ravenous.

Hotel breakfast would begin in half an hour, giving you enough time to shower and refresh. After breakfast, you and Chaeyoung would head over to the site of the music video shoot and get to work.

Stepping out of the shower, your phone was vibrating on the sink counter. It was Jimin. You felt guilty when you saw his name appear, having missed a call from him last night. You were just too tired.

You picked up, “Morning.”

His soft, hoarse morning voice brought you comfort, as always, “Hey. You alright sweetheart?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just exhausted.”

“I am too,” he said, “How was yesterday?”

“Fine," was your answer out of habit, but then you remembered the news you had to share with him about the person you met, "Actually, um, there was a slight hiccup of sorts. I, uh...I got pushed."

You chickened out, squeezing your eyes shut and putting a hand to your forehead as soon as the regret hit you. He had to know - the company would inevitably reach out to him once Chaeyoung explained it. Though you knew it was best to be the one to tell him, it was unbearably awkward, and you didn't want to add more stress to the pile. It would mean opening a whole new can of worms.

What Jimin heard was more than enough to send him into a tizzy, "What? Was it deliberate? Were you hurt?!"

"N-No," you stammered, "It happened while you guys were entering the airport. That rush of people. Someone blew right by me and knocked me over. But I'm alright. I landed on my hands and knees.”

You heard him let out a long breath, “Oh, good. Y/N, please don’t scare me like that. You know I already feel bad about not being with you.”

A pang of guilt jolted in your chest for avoiding the truth, “Sorry, I know. Um…I guess what I’m trying to tell you is something else. After I fell, a woman helped me up. She-”

You heard the sound of a door in the background, followed by a muffled voice.

Jimin muttered something before getting back to you, “Shit, baby I’m going to have to let you go. We need to head down for the overview while they are prepping the set. Um, we’ll find a minute to talk there, okay?”

“Oh,” you stiffened, “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you there soon.”

“Great, eat a good breakfast, hm? I love you.”

You pulled a subtle smile, “I will. Love you too.”

Once you hung up, there was no reason to do anything other than get ready for your day. You took care of your hair and makeup, and put on whatever clothes that would fit you and permit you to look the least bit presentable. Then, you grabbed your purse and went down to meet Chaeyoung for breakfast.

The morning was pleasant with her. She made little to no mention of Seoyeon - just talked about the shoot and the baby. It had been a while since she checked in with you.

She forked a bite of scrambled eggs, “So, how is everything? You just had your ultrasound, right? All good?”

You smiled as you chewed, “Yep, all good. And no, we didn’t find out the gender.”

She laughed, “That was going to be my next question. I’m intrigued that you used ‘we’ instead of ‘I’, though. Care to explain?”

Her smile was for lighthearted gossip, so it didn’t bother you that much. You’d gotten used to lying to her face.

“Yes, the father was there,” you sighed, sitting back in your chair, “He missed the first one and really appreciated being there for this one.”

“And did you appreciate him being there?”

You grinned, “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. We get along…And I think he will make the most incredible father.”

Chaeyoung subtly pointed her index finger at you, “I’m detecting a blush on your cheeks. You’re really into this guy, huh? Do I get to know his name now?”

You giggled to hide your dismay, “Once again it’s a no. I told you, he’s private. Maybe I like him too much to disregard his wishes.”

She teased, “Oooo, alright I can get behind that. I’m sort of jealous of you, actually. Having a baby, enjoying a fun little love affair. And on top of that, you’re traveling across the world. You’re killing it.”

You nodded and smiled, but your spackle job crumbled. Bit by bit, your pleasant expression faded, and then soured. Your heart was racing. Your gut was churning. Tears pricked your eyes and you gulped, all while maintaining a nodding motion of your head.

It was all railing you over at once.

Your secret relationship with one of the most famous men in the world. Your unexpected motherhood. The friend of your partner who hated you. Your probable job loss. Your parents who weren’t speaking to you. The ex girlfriend who had re-appeared like some cruel joke from the universe.

It hardly came out as a whisper, “Y-Yeah.”

Chaeyoung’s lightness dropped immediately. She leaned in, concern plaguing her features, “Hey…Hey, what is it? Did I say something?”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you shook your head, reaching for your napkin so you could dry your eyes, “No. I’m sorry, I’m okay. I just…It’s been difficult at times. And on top of all of it, the OBGYN gave me a warning about my blood pressure. It’s been elevated and I feel like it’s just been one more thing to worry about.”

Her hand found yours, “I get it. I’m sorry, I should have known. I should have remembered that feeling, when everyone is so happy and excited that you’re pregnant but you feel like complete shit on the inside.”

You forced a short-lived grin, “Yeah, it’s hard.”

If she only knew.

Chaeyoung patted the back of your hand a few times as she leaned to her side, apparently digging for something in the purse that lay by her feet, “I was going to save this for another time, but I guess now’s as good as ever.”

She pulled a small, thick book out of her purse and set it on the table, “For you.”

You picked it up, sniffling, “A baby naming book.”

The sweet woman smiled softly, “When I felt overwhelmed carrying the twins, a little escape would always help me. I found that going through all the names in this book was a comfort. I got to forget about all the hard stuff and focus on my babies. What their names might be. Who they might become. Only the good stuff. Maybe give it a shot?”

You wiped another tear and smiled, grateful to have a friend, “Chae…This is so kind. Thank you so much. This probably doesn’t come as a shock, but I haven’t started thinking about names yet.”

She shrugged happily, “Well you will now. It’s fun.”

You both finished your meal and ordered a ride to the Los Angeles Theatre, the set of the music video.

“Holy shit,” Hoseok smirked, bobbing his head as he checked himself out in one of the building’s ornate gold mirrors, “You guys did amazing with the looks. Wow.”

You and Chaeyoung laughed, watching all the guys look at each other’s clothes in delight. They were all dressed and made up, waiting on the director to give them the signal to begin filming.

Jungkook, who was in a corset, was particularly pleased, “Yes. Chef’s kiss, ladies. Thank you. They match the venue perfectly.”

Chaeyoung murmured in your ear, “I wish my waist was that fucking small.”

You covered your mouth as you giggled, “Mine certainly isn’t.”

Even Namjoon seemed content, joking here and there with Yoongi. Ironically, his was one of your favorite outfits of all. It was a black suit with a simple yet bold cargo detail on one side, a satin band to highlight his torso. Nothing highly elaborate, but cool. Complete with lug-sole boots, it was the perfect mix of debonair and rugged.

While the others goofed around in the spare time, Jimin approached both of you stylists. It was the first glimpse of him up-close since you said goodbye at your apartment the day before. He looked beyond words, hair dyed a bluish black for this concept. It was the first time in a while you’d seen him with anything other than his natural hair, but he pulled almost anything off.

He bowed slightly as he greeted you, wishing he could bring you into his arms instead, “Thank you both. How was your flight?”

Chaeyoung crossed her arms, “Ah, you know. Awful.”

You elbowed her gently and reassured Jimin, “It really wasn’t that bad.”

Your colleague rubbed your back, endeared by your fib, “Says the one who is five months pregnant. It’s alright to admit it sucked.”

You shrugged a little and looked at your boyfriend, “Alright it did kind of suck. I had to periodically get up and take walks up and down the aisle, just to stretch. I was able to sleep a bit, though. It was just a lot of sitting.”

You knew that would ease his concern a level.

“Speaking of sitting,” Chaeyoung said, craning her neck to either side in search of something, “Let’s find you a chair, shall we? Being on your feet for long periods will increase your blood pressure, girl.”

Before you could say a word, she was off to find something for you to sit in. Jimin looked quite pleased with this. He inched closer to you and grinned, “Thanks for telling her like I asked. She’s a good friend.”

You nodded, “She is. She also gave me a baby naming book.”

He chuckled, “Ah, so when we get home, we can talk about names while finding a way place for the million throw pillows you brought, hm?”

You laughed, narrowing your eyes in jest, “I would love that actually, thank you very much.”

A comfortable silence arose between you two. He just took you in, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved black top that likely wouldn’t fit in a matter of weeks.

Maybe this was the time to tell him. You didn’t know when Chaeyoung aimed to get in touch with the company, but you doubted she’d wait very long.

You checked your surroundings quickly before muttering, “Jimin, I-”

Then a deeper voice called to him, “Hey.”

Both of you looked to find Namjoon, the members filtering away to the filming area behind him. His hands were in his pockets, eyes switching between you and Jimin for a second. Even a brief stare from him was intimidating. Then he cocked head towards the set, “We’re starting.”

Jimin’s eyes went cold, but not bitter. He nodded without a word before turning to you once more, “Sorry, really quickly, what were you going to say? Is it what you wanted to tell me earlier?”

You froze for moment, locked in a dilemma. You hated to let it slip by again, but you had to. It could wait until the end of the shoot.

“Uh, nothing,” you grinned, “Later.”

He agreed reluctantly, “Alright. Go sit down, please.”

Then he went off to join the guys. The shoot commenced right on schedule. For a while, you and Chaeyoung sat in the background, watching them perform to a much more contemporary choreography than normal. The song was called “Black Swan”. It was beautiful and artistic - and Jimin was perfectly in his element. He sank into his craft wholeheartedly, fluid and precise with every movement, right down to his finger tips.

Watching him do what he was born to do made you warm inside. You were proud of him, while also relieved that he had his performances to escape the chaos. It was like his character disappeared, and he took on a new persona. He was freer.

In between takes, you and Chaeyoung would refresh their looks wherever you could. They would film certain parts of the choreography in different places. Each setting called for different looks, and it was your job to help them get settled quickly.

At one point, they were directed to take shoot both still shots and parts of the dance at this grand staircase. The wardrobe for this setting consisted of black suits with black, reflective rhinestones in varying places.

You divvied up the task of lint rolling all the jackets. You and Chaeyoung went through each member with haste, to a point where the only two left were Jungkook and Namjoon. She went in the direction of the youngest member before you could, leaving you to handle the one you wasn’t particularly fond of you.

Maintaining your dignity and a sense of security, you approached him as you would anyone else.

Jimin was subtly but dutifully observing from a distance.

You smiled at the tall man, who was blonde now, “Hey.”

He offered a congenial grin in return, “Hey.”

You felt so pathetic, rolling the sticky paper down his sleeves.

“How are you, uh, feeling?” Namjoon asked.

You didn’t know if he was trying to be genuine or if he simply didn’t want to deal with an awkward silence. Caught off guard by the remark, you took a moment to answer in a hush, “I’m alright. I appreciate you asking. How are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek, “Look, I don’t know if this is the place, but I’m sure you know what’s been going on between me and him.”

You glanced at Jimin. He was leaning against the large and gorgeous post of the staircase, now with a fire in his eyes. His head was tilted slightly downward as he glared at the situation unfolding before him. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could see something was off-kilter. If Namjoon was about to try anything with you, he’d have hell to pay.

You started to lint roll the back of his jacket, “I have heard, yes. It’s…That’s not what I want for you guys.”

“Me too.” he lamented.

The real regret was palpable in his voice. It made you pity him, in a way. It reminded you that he wasn’t truly a good man, with a good heart.

Namjoon continued, “I realized I never gave you the chance to defend yourself. So I’m asking you now, Y/N…Do you, in any way, have bad intentions towards Jimin? Do you seek notoriety out of all of this, even the slightest bit?”

Your stomach was in a coil. In one respect, you were glad to have been given the chance to speak for yourself, but it was such an unexpected move on his part that you fumbled for an answer.

You took a deep breath and let the words out as confidently as you could, “I do not and have never thought so lowly of him that I would deceive him like that. My feelings have always been real. That is the truth.”

He was quiet as you went about your work. When you finished, he nodded to you and walked away to go join the guys.

You knew your boyfriend was still looking at you, searching for your eyes to know if you were okay. You avoided his gaze, feeling somewhat dirty. It was odd - you had told Namjoon the truth, but you felt shameful that someone really felt the need to ask you that.

You tore the used lint paper off the roll and crumpled it in your hand as you and Chaeyoung reunited off-set. You sat back down on your collapsible chairs behind all the crew, fading into the background once again.

As the leader of the group climbed the staircase to his position as directed, Jimin grabbed his wrist. It looked like a gentle hold to everyone who might have been able to see it, and he was mindful to keep a composed demeanor. His face was totally neutral.

He and Namjoon shared a look. You noticed and prayed he wouldn’t start anything.

From afar, you watching Jimin crane his neck the tiniest length to one side. His lips didn’t move. He just wanted the other to see his expression. He wanted him to know he’d seen that little interaction, and he wasn’t happy.

The tense moment was over in a couple of seconds, and they went back to performing for the camera.

Well into this portion of filming, Chaeyoung nudged your arm and whispered to you, “What were you and Jimin talking about?”

Your heart dropped, “Nothing. Just joking around. You know how he is.”

She sounded apprehensive, “You didn’t tell him about Seoyeon, did you?”

Timidly, you replied, “No.”

“Good,” she sighed, “I wouldn’t want him to know that I told you about her. Oh well, he will be getting a call from Management sometime today, most likely. I told them early this morning. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. They know you had no way of knowing who she was.”

You nodded, “Right…Thanks for doing that. H-How do you think he’ll take it?”

She shrugged, pursing her lips as both of you watched the guys go about their routine, the song playing in the background, “Honestly, I don’t know. He’s been really great without her. But this is going to come out of nowhere and it might stress him out. It's just a little mess.”

You looked at your shoes, “Yeah.”

You and him kept sharing periodic eye contact throughout the rest of the shoot. It was like he was monitoring you, and you could only assume he’d demand to know what his bandmate had said to you during that little rendezvous.

Each time his eyes floated over to yours, your heart would ache. You held so much adoration for this man. The lengths he would go in order to care for you were more than you could have imagined for yourself. He didn’t just want you to be happy - he chased after it.

You put your hand on your belly, letting in the bond. A part of that wonderful man was growing inside you. His legacy and yours.

As your thumb stroked up and down, you felt a light tapping from within.

It was here, finally. The child in your womb was moving with enough force for you to feel it.

Tears welled up. After everything, this baby was growing strong. Your world had been turned upside down. You’d been under more duress than ever in your life, yet your child was healthy. You were both soldiering through it all.

You closed your eyes, relaxed in your chair, and smiled as the taps continued.

Chaeyoung caught this. While she was grinning, she was confused, “What’s got you so gleeful?”

You looked at her, “The baby’s moving.”

Your friend shared your excitement as you peered back to find Jimin. He was focused on his work. You couldn’t help but think your little one was trying to dance with him.

The boys were celebrating in Hoseok's hotel suite late at night. They always did this after completing a music video shoot, which was no small feat. Someone ordered a few bottles of champagne to toast, and more drinks were bound to flow afterward. However, one could cut the tension between two of the members with a knife. Now it could finally be brought up, and Jimin wouldn't miss that chance.

As soon as the leader plopped down on the sofa, Jimin sat next to him.

The air between them wasn't hostile - just strained. It wasn't enough to deter any of the other members from having fun with one another. They hardly noticed at all.

Jimin leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs, holding a champagne flute in the middle of his legs. He simply sighed. Namjoon situated his right ankle on his left knee and let his posture relax and recline.

The younger of the two chuckled ironically, "Do I really need to ask?"

Namjoon smirked, taking a sip from his glass, "Did I chew into your girlfriend? Of course not."

"She looked uncomfortable with you from where I was standing."

"Yeah, well you were standing pretty far away."

"Namjoon," Jimin's teeth were nearly at a grit, "What did you say?"

The older let out a breath and shifted forward, meeting his eyes and softening his tone, "Out of fairness, I asked her if her intentions were benevolent."

No longer could he maintain his cool, but he kept his voice low, "What?"

"Yeah, I flat out asked her. We were being cordial, and so I just thought I'd give her the chance to speak for herself."

Jimin's tone was dripping with revulsion, "Well how very generous of you, Joonie. How very gracious. You showed her so much respect by asking her if she's a fucking gold digger!"

The raised voice drew the attention of the others.

He went on, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Don't you realize that by asking her that question, you were essentially calling her that?!"

"Jesus Christ, you guys," Yoongi groaned, "What now?"

The infuriated man gulped down the rest of his drink and set the glass firmly down on the table in front of them. Then he stood up and looked at Namjoon, gesturing to the group with his hands with flaring nostrils, "Tell them, huh? Tell them what you just told me."

The man on the couch put up his hands in self-defense before calmly stating, "Today at the shoot, I asked Y/N if she has good intentions."

Several eye rolls and sighs came about.

Jungkook was almost as frustrated as Jimin, "What the hell, hyung?"

"That's a bit much." Taehyung remarked.

"I was seriously trying to be fair, okay?" the head of the group objected, "I felt bad that this whole drama centered around her has been happening behind her back. I wasn't trying to fucking intimidate her. We were talking like adults and I honestly thought it would be the right thing to do."

"You thought it would be good to ask our friend's pregnant girlfriend if she's only in it for fame and money?" Hoseok scowled.

"I'll admit that it sounds so much worse when you put it like that, but yes."

Jimin threw his hands up in his exasperation, “It sounds bad because it is!”

Jungkook came to his aid, patting his back to try to get him to calm down, “Hey, just relax. The yelling doesn’t help anything.”

“No, I’m fucking sick of his foolish, insane agenda! It was bad enough when you were saying these things to me, but now you go and take it straight to Y/N?! She’s carrying my child! She doesn’t need you and your ridiculous false assumptions cast down from up there on your high horse!”

This time, Jin tried to soothe the enraged member, “Alright let’s just take a breather, okay?”

He put his hands on his shoulders, but Jimin broke out of it immediately, “Stop acting like you know everything, Namjoon! Just because you are the leader of this group on paper doesn’t mean you are the fucking alpha! You don’t know!”

Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore. He shot up, “I know you, Jimin! And I knew you at your very worst! At your lowest! You don’t remember?! The day Seoyeon ended things, who was at your side?!”

Yoongi tried to stop him, “Joon, you don’t-”

“Who, Jimin?! Who checked on you every day, only to find you drunk and saying you didn’t want to live anymore?! Who helped you wash the bloodstains from your shirt after you broke a fucking fifth of whisky and cut yourself trying to clean it up wasted?!”

Jimin was still fuming, but speechless. He was just a tight ball of nerves.

“I did! I fucking did! I don’t ever want to see you in that state again and I won’t apologize!”

“SHE IS NOT SEOYEON!”

Just then, his phone began to ring. With veins popping out of his neck and a face red, he stopped.

Everyone was frozen, shocked by the outburst. They’d never seen him scream at anyone like that.

The phone kept ringing.

Aggravated beyond words, Jimin rolled his eyes, “Where’s my goddamn phone?”

Yoongi found it resting on the dresser against the wall. He picked it up and looked at the screen, eyebrows furrowing, “Uh, it’s Management…”

The anger slowly drained from his demeanor. They rarely called out of the blue, but when they did, it was almost never good.

Jimin calmed his breathing and pushed a tuft of hair out of his face, taking the device out of Yoongi’s grasp.

Everyone remained quiet as he answered.

“Hello?”

“Jimin,” a familiar manager’s voice came through, “Apologies, I know it’s late over there.”

“It’s alright. What’s going on?”

There was a brief pause before the reply.

“Seoyeon is in LA. And I’m afraid she met and spoke to the styling team that traveled with the group.”

[yangjungwonisms]

Sunday Blues- YJW

It was Sunday night at approximately 9:30 pm, to anyone else that just meant that yet another weekend was ending. For you and your boyfriend though, it meant that he was going to have to leave you for the week soon. Because of how busy he was during the week, you two were only able to actually physically be together during the weekend. This made the little time you two spent together even more special. But you missed him like crazy when he was gone. You felt bad because you knew it was stressful for him to be apart from you as well. You could tell something was off with him the whole day, you brushed it off not thinking much about it. Jungwon on the other hand was dragging his feet. He knew that logically he needed to head home so he was well rested for the coming week ahead. Except, the more the day went on the more his resolve was slipping. He always hated leaving you, but lately it was killing him. Being away from you was more stressful than work was, he needed to be able to come home to you at the end of his days or else he was going to go crazy.

Jungwon had decided by 9 that night he wasn’t going home that night. In fact, he wasn’t even going to work at all during this week. He had ulterior motives for taking the week off. The main reason was he just wanted to spend time with you. It had been many months since he had gotten to see you during the week. All he craved during his busy days was your presence. You were his biggest source of comfort and even though you two talked on the phone during the day and then while getting ready for bed at night he needed more. You two had already been together for over 2 years and it only made sense to be living together. Before work got so busy he and you were practically living together anyways. He had been working up the courage to ask you to move in with him. He wasn’t even sure why you two weren’t living together yet. Financially, it would make sense but it just hadn’t occurred. He wasn’t sure why exactly he was in such a mood that day. He assumed it was probably because it was yet another day he would have to leave you. He hated leaving you alone, knowing that even though you scarcely brought it up you were just as affected by his absence and he was by yours. He was starting to get worried about how it might affect the future of your relationship. The entirety of the day, he couldn’t be away from you. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you. Not that you were complaining given that you felt pretty much the same.

You two had just finished cleaning up from dinner when you noticed what the time was. “Wonie, it’s almost 10 shouldn’t you get going”? You shouted to him from the other room. But when you looked back at him he merely moved to stand up and walk over to you. He embraced you from behind immediately nuzzling his face into your neck. “Oh yeah, about that. I’m not going home”. His reply was so nonchalant that you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out of you. “Wonie, as much as I don’t want you to leave I really don’t want you to stay out too late when you have work in the morning”. At that he pulled your body closer to his letting out a frustrated sigh in the process. “Baby, don’t make me go. I can’t be away from you anymore. It hurts and I can’t do it anymore”. You felt your heart crack in half hearing how vulnerable he was being with you. “Oh, baby you know I don’t want you to go but what else can we do”? Jungwon felt a lightbulb go off in his head, he had been strategizing for weeks over when the best time to ask you would be, it was now. “You could move in with me”. He saw your eyes go wide, you felt kind of silly having never considered it all this time. It felt like such a simple solution to an otherwise difficult situation. You suppose you never wanted to get your hopes up. “Wait, are you serious”? You could tell he was dead serious but you still needed to hear him say it. “Oh baby, I’m so serious. Think about it, doesn’t it make more sense for us to live together? Atleast this way we get to see each other everyday. Think of all the fun we could have baby. Think of all the sex we could have. So much sex baby, come on please”. You hated to admit that the sex was a selling point. You two were plenty intimate in the little alone time you got, but you couldn't help but imagine how much fun it would be to be able to have each other whenever you wanted. “Shouldn’t we discuss this more won”. He knew he was going to have to work a little harder to convince you, fortunately he had been prepared for this exact thing.

Without another word he starts walking towards your bedroom pulling you to follow in tow. Once you had gotten into the room with him he was quick to close the door and push you up against it. He started an onslaught of dirty, wet kisses starting from the corner of your mouth moving down your neck leaving hickeys in his wake. He really wasn’t playing fair, because he knew the minute he started kissing you that the rest of your willpower would melt away. Only after he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess does he pull away. He walks away from you to stand in front of your mirror. He gestures for you to follow him over there. Once you heed his command he’s quick to settle himself directly behind you. He grabbed your chin tilting your head up to make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Pay attention to me baby”. At that his hands were all over you, making quick work of the bottoms you had on. Before he moved to do anything he brings two of his fingers up to your mouth. Without him even needing to tell you what to do, you take them into your mouth sucking on them just enough to get them wet. He moved his hand down your body at a torturously slow pace before he finally settled in between your legs. He doesn’t hesitate to ease both of his fingers into your cunt. He stills his movements for a minute allowing you time to get used to the stretch. He leans in ever so slightly, planting a small kiss on the shell of your ear before whispering “hm so good for me. You see what I’m doing right baby”? He paused expecting an answer from you but you were already too far gone. He moves to pull his hand out from in between your thigh earning a whine from you. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question baby. Rude girls don’t get fucked and you know that”. Mustering up every bit of concentration you have you answer “Mhm wonie, I see what you’re doing. Feels so good”. He seems appeased at that, continuing his movements immediately. “Could fuck you like this all the time if we lived together baby. You’d like that right”? Not wanting to give him any reason to stop touching you answer right away “Fuck, Jungwon I need you. Need you all the time. Wanna move in with you baby”. At that, he had gotten what he wanted, but he still felt like teasing you just a little bit more. “Hmm, you only wanna move in with me because you’re so cock hungry baby”. He was messing with you but you were so fucked out merely from his fingers that you couldn’t bring yourself to give a single shit about it. “No baby, wanna move in with you because I love you so much”. He knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. “Then prove it to me”.

With zero hesitation he pushes you down on your knees, he stands there staring at you expectantly as your hands move to start undoing his belt. Once you’ve taken his cock out of his pants and stroke him a few times you move to take him in your mouth, before you can do so he stops you “Gonna let me fuck your mouth baby”? He had a brief moment of nothing but pure fondness in his eyes reaching out to cradle your face “You’ll let me know if it’s too much okay”? Nodding your head you lean in to pepper kisses around the tip. It takes you a few minutes to take all of him in your mouth, stopping every couple of seconds to allow your breathing to even out. While you’re adjusting to him he takes the time to grab your hair into a makeshift ponytail. He starts thrusting in and out of your mouth at a shallow pace wanting to get used to the feeling of your mouth around him. It didn’t take long before he had both hands planted firmly in your hair while fucking your mouth at a faster pace. After about 10 minutes of holding himself back his demeanor was starting to slip. “Oh fuck baby. Fuck so good for me like always. Making me feel so loved right now watching you choke on me like this princess”. The closer he was to finishing the more erratic his breathing got. “Oh fuck baby, gonna make me cum. Gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna take it all”. Within seconds he was a moaning mess holding your head in place fucking himself through his orgasm.

He’s quick to get you off in a similar way, opting to push you down onto the bed and holding your hips down while going down on you. He makes you cum twice in the span of 10 minutes, knowing how close you were from when he was finger fucking you earlier. Once he has successfully gotten you off you think you’re finally going to get some rest. But you thought wrong because as soon as Jungwon moves out from between your thighs he crawls up to you on the bed. You can feel by the slow way he’s grinding onto your bare pussy that he’s nowhere near done with you. For a second you two just mindlessly hump each other easily getting worked back up. You were so caught up in how good you felt when you feel Jungwon push into you and bottom out immediately. Normally he takes a second to calm himself down so he wouldn’t cum right away. Today, he didn’t care about that, he needed to fuck you. The vigor in which he starts fucking into you has you seeing stars. You can’t do anything except hold onto him for dear life as he pounds into you at lightning speed. You know how worked up he is by how high pitched his moans were getting. “It’s good yeah baby”? You truly can’t respond, too fucked out by how hard your boyfriend is fucking you. “fuck me harder won please. Need it harder baby”. Instead of responding he repositions you, grabbing your legs and locking them behind his back. He takes a second steadying himself on the headboard before he’s fucking you so hard the headboard is quite literally banging into the wall with abandon. Maybe it was a good thing you were moving because you were sure your neighbors were going to be filing noise complaints after this. There were no more words spoken between you two until he reaches his orgasm barely pulling out of you in time to finish all over your stomach. By the end of it, he was moaning louder than you were, and he teased you for being loud. There’s no way you’d ever let him live this down.

It always amazed you how quickly he could switch back to his sweet and soft demeanor after having just committed such lewd acts. Despite all of what you two had just done, you still weren’t sure where you stood with moving in with him. He must feel the same because you both go to speak at the same time. You concede, allowing him the opportunity to speak first. “I really do wanna live with you baby. It’s the next big step in our relationship before marriage and I think we’re ready, don’t you”? You couldn’t have said it better yourself. “Okay baby, let’s do it. Let’s move in together”. Jungwon was so thrilled you agreed to move in with him that it took every ounce of self control he had to keep himself from starting to pack your things up then and there. You are only able to get him to hold off by promising him you’d both take the week off work and get moved in with each other as soon as possible. Despite all of that he had somehow convinced you to come back to his place with him. His reasoning was that he wanted you to feel as comfortable as you could since that was your place now too. You saw right through it, the real reason he wanted you to come back with him was so he could show you all of the places he wanted to fuck you once you moved in. He was even nice enough to give you a sneak peek in almost every room of the house. Let’s just say it was an exhausting evening for the two of you.

[hobisexually]

long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on

[sugarwarachan]

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”

[misaamoure]

𝐏���𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭!!

⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:

“You must be out of your damn mind if you think that’s gonna fit in me.”

Sylus looked almost offended as you pointed down at his obnoxiously large appendage.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you liked big dicks?”

You and Sylus had finally gotten in the mood to go all the way… until he pulled his pants and boxers down.

The pure shock on your face was an ego booster for him.

Then he developed his own look of pure shock upon you proclaiming that the sex was off.

And upon asking why, your reasoning was, “it won’t fit. Are you stupid?”

Which he immediately responded with, “I’ll make it fit, sweetie. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

This only serves to piss you off more.

However… you couldn’t deny the fact that you were extremely curious.

How would it feel? How deep would it go? Could you actually take it?

All this pondering led to you begrudgingly taking him up on his offer.

“Sylus, please, enough! Just fuck me… already…!”

It felt like he had been eating you out for hours.

Sucking on your clit, sticking his tongue into you, and occasionally slipping a finger in.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” He fixed his sanguine gaze right onto your beautiful face.

You nodded vigorously.

“Alright,” He gave your clit on more kiss before sitting up, palming himself a bit for some kind of relief. “Can you turn over for me, kitten?”

Doing exactly as he asked, you didn’t miss a beat. You were more than eager for it at this point.

You felt Sylus’s warm, hard, heavy body embrace yours, as you two were in the prone bone position.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay, Y/N?” You felt him kiss your shoulder tenderly.

“Yes sir.”

“You promise?”

Oh here he goes. You could sense Sylus’s bullshit from a mile away.

“Yes I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Get the fuck on with it already!”

“I’m gonna count down from three.” You felt him run his tip up and down, paying extra attention to your sensitive clit.

“Nnngh… whatever!” He chuckled at your increasing frustration. You were just so cute like this.

“One…”

You felt Sylus thrust his entire cock in at once, making you gasp as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Sylus what the fuck?!” You looked back at him over your shoulder in disbelief.

“It’s better like this, trust me.”

If you were in a state to argue with him, you would. But right now in this moment, you were in no state to tell him off.

You felt so fucking full. It felt like he was in your guts. Big. So big.

And oddly enough… you loved it.

It felt so warm and intimate. Made you wonder what a creampie could be like.

The sensation of Sylus beginning to move inside of you knocked you out of your thoughts.

He was going so incredibly slow… you could feel every single inch, vein, and curve as he slowly pulled half of himself out and thrusted all of it back in.

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” You said breathlessly, barely able to register the feeling of anything but being stuffed to the brim. “It’s so good… what do I do?”

You heard Sylus groan deeply before a dark chuckle escaped his throat.

“Sit back and enjoy, kitten. That’s all you need to do.”

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:

“No Zayne, it’s not gonna fit, I’m serious!”

“We haven’t even tried yet, Y/N. Relax, please.”

While Zayne’s calm demeanor was often grounding, right now you found it nothing short of annoying.

Your little heart was about to beat right out of your chest… you were sure he could practically hear your heartbeats right now. No stethoscope needed!

It was your first time together… neither of you two had seen each other naked before.

So imagine your surprise when Zayne casually pulls his boxers down to reveal the absolute weapon in his pants.

It wasn’t just big length wise… it was thick. Very thick.

And so so pretty. His dick was so incredibly pretty.

A gorgeous pink tip that faded in color towards the base. Like it was made just for you.

You always caught glimpses of his bulge through his slacks, but you didn’t expect it to be so… huge?

A jaw dropping reveal.

Knowing you like the back of his hand, Zayne obviously felt your concerned gaze on him.

And he promised to get you ready for him properly.

Fingering you for a good hour… making you cum multiple times and stretching you out like the good man he was.

“Do you think you’re ready now?” He was between your legs in missionary, staring down at you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed.

“I’ll go slow, I promise.” Zayne kissed you lovingly on the cheek.

You nodded, skin brushing against his as he pulled away.

Gasping as you felt his tip rub up and down your folds, you felt him experimentally push into you to see how much force it would take to enter you.

“Zayne…”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

His soothing words did nothing but assure you. Zayne had every bit of your trust, and he had earned it all.

He entered you slowly, using exact force to get just the tip in.

The sensation of that alone made you toss and turn.

He kept pulling out, and pushing in… and pulling out and pushing in… each time inching a bit more of his cock inside you.

“So big… Zayne it’s so big…” You whined out, eyes shut as you weakly pressed as his pelvis with your palm.

“If you’re saying it’s big when I’ve just managed to fit half of my cock inside you,” Zayne struggled to muffle his own sounds between words. “You’re in for a much harder time than you think.”

He continued his method from before… slowly inching more and more of his cock in a he fucked in and out of you slowly.

The pain was undeniable. But something else was also undeniable.

You felt so incredibly full inside. It felt amazing. The fullness mixed with the invigorating friction of each thrust was intensifying by the minute.

“So good… I think… it’s so good… more please…!”

Zayne chuckled at your admission.

“How about this?” Zayne leaned forward to lean on his forearms above you, grinding his thick cock into you with each stroke. “Does that feel good?”

“Yessss… yeah! Feels so good… Zayne!” You’re pretty sure you were babbling like an idiot, but you just couldn’t help it.

Dipping down, he caught your lips with his for a deep kiss.

Pulling away, his eyes bore deep into yours. So deep that you could see yourself reflected in them.

“Do you want me to go faster now?”

“Yes… please… Zayne…!”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four. |

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny. 

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[pepperyduck]

“parenting class” with kei tsukishima

this is part six of my kinktober event :3

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nsfw, timeskip tsukishima, breeding, talks about pregnancy, tsukki is maybe a little bit bad!, finishing inside, unprotected p in v. 18+ mdni!

notes: who tf was gonna tell me pregnancy scares are real

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

kei tsukishima didn’t know what had come over him.

personally, he blamed that stupid parenting class that was required, for some reason. kei thought it was idiotic, but he needed it to graduate. and they absolutely doomed him when they put both of you in class together.

there was something about you, his sweet, beautiful and kind girlfriend that had already won his heart a million times over, doing things that a mom would do. of course, they provided those dumb dolls that cried and stuff—but you seemed to be able to calm the robot baby down instantly. the smallest appearance of a smile came over his face when you’d bounce the doll in your arms, or feed it the fake food.

god forbid when they made you wear that horrible pregnancy vest, because it gave your boyfriend terribly amazing imagery of what you’d actually look like carrying his child. maybe he was weird for it, but after the few weeks of that class was over, kei couldn’t stop himself from only thinking about one thing;

getting you pregnant.

he hadn’t ever been the dad type, until now.

“do you want kids?” tsukishima had asked you, all the while focused on a homework assignment. the question was one you hadn’t talked about before. it took you by surprise, obviously, and you wondered if it was something your tsukki wanted, too.

“if you want them, yeah.”

and that reply is what led kei to his current position, deciding between two ways the both of your lives could go. but as you laid there in his dorm room, trapped under his arms, all the excuses he could make for what he was about to do ran through his head. both of you were adults, set to graduate college in a few months, along with jobs lined up the second you got your diplomas. he already had a ring for you, he’d decided he was going to marry you a long time ago—

what did he have to lose?

“are you okay? you seem out of it, tsukki,” you say, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s blond locks. you had been waiting for a few minutes now, and all kei was doing was staring down at you, the look in his eyes gradually shifting over time.

“mhm.” is the only reply you get out of him, but he finally starts to move his eyes up and down your face, skimming over your lips and soft cheeks. kei felt like he could moan aloud when you wrap your arms behind his neck and lean up to give him a small peck.

he loved how sweet you were to him, a stark contrast in his own personality. he was never one to show affection in many ways, but you made up for it with the amount of affection you gave him. you had kei wrapped around your little finger, and boy, did he know it.

wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull kei in impossibly closer, the warmth in between your legs now was prodded at by the tent in your boyfriend’s boxers. kei harshly sucks air through his teeth at the pressure, absentmindedly rutting against you, feeling your panties and the dampness behind them, absolutely soaked. kei could tell.

“i don’t have a condom,” he remarks, subtly watching how you’d react.

“oh—um, it’s okay,” you reply almost instantaneously, “i’m on birth control, tsukki.”

damn it.

tsukishima nods his head, leaning up to allow space for the both of you to strip away the clothing that was keeping him from being inside of you. scooting back on the bed, you allow him room to join you. kei climbs up on the mattress with you, slotting himself between your already spread thighs, cock immediately pressing against the warm wetness of your cunt. you whine at the teasing, though it isn’t intentional, and kei hushes your noises with a sweet kiss.

as your lips lock and your skin becomes warmer at your lover’s contact, kei’s slender hands come to grab under your thighs, situating you in a rather unexplored position—a mating press. his head draws back again, just to take in the sight of you; in his shirt, and rather everything else completely exposed to him. the small light coming from his desk lamp illuminates you perfectly, shows off how soft you are to kei, the perfect body to carry his kids—

“kei,” you whine, “are you sure you’re okay?” your question is half concern and half desperation, wanting him to either move or tell you he isn’t horny; though, the raging erection he has would say otherwise. “if you don’t wanna do it, we don’t have to—oh!”

your rambling is cut off by a harsh thrust inside, kei wasting no time to completely insert himself into you. he was never one to be too rough, maybe a little erratic, but never completely silent and impatient. you can tell there is no patience left in your boyfriend, with how he immediately begins a grueling, fast pace, slamming his length into you with unrelenting force. your pretty little brain, usually so sweet and composed, has no time to think about what’s got him so worked up, because he has you yelping out within only a few seconds.

“kei—kei!” you chant his name, it’s falling off your lips like a routine prayer, stuck on loop like a broken record.

kei’s knees dig into the fabric of his sheets, his thighs completely straightened, and it feels like he is using every bit of strength to wind his hips up and violently slam them back into you. becoming so fond of this position, you can feel him in new depths, as the slit of his cock taps – no, angrily impales – your cervix. he’s no longer calculated, or sweet, whatever had gotten into kei had made the man completely animalistic.

syrupy, soaked walls clamp around his length ridiculously tighter with every meeting of your hips, and you mewl. the first remnants of sweat creep on your boyfriend’s hairline, his glasses are beginning to slip down his nose, he’s almost silently panting. when your eyes aren’t squeezed shut, you can see the blank, mean expression settled on tsukishima’s features; it wasn’t a softened version of his face like normal.

“feels s’good, tsukki!” you manage to stammer out, arms flailing to the pillow you rested your head on to hold.

“yeah?” followed by a grunt is the only reply, the only words tsukki has given you the entire interaction. he usually liked to tease you, or have more remarks when you babbled on about how good he felt. but no, not now. not when he could feel himself getting closer from the death grip your pussy has on him, not when he can feel himself about to knock you up. “look at me.”

your eyes shoot open, despite the signals from your body telling you to keep them closed, lose yourself in the pleasure. you wouldn’t dare to disobey your boyfriend, not like this. so, of course, you lock your eyes with his, his cock still bullying its way deeper into you. kei savors the scrunched up, dirty look on your face, that of one he hasn’t seen before.

were you enjoying this that much? even if you didn’t know his intentions, were you finding pleasure in the thought of getting pregnant now, by him?

“i’m gonna finish inside,” kei states, and it’s not a request, nor a demand. it’s a simple statement, something he is going to do. you’re able to notice the passion, the need in his voice. and you think, for just a moment, that you understand his intentions.

however, the rough pounding he’s giving you leaves no time for thought.

“mm—finish in me, tsukki,” you motivate him, trying your damnedest to maintain the eye contact with him, “m’gonna cum too!” your voice pitches higher, and kei’s sure whoever’s trying to sleep on the other side of the wall probably hates him right now. but he doesn’t really care, no. he’s determined.

“yeah? close, hmm?” tsukishima teases, finally, in between heavy pants. you nod your head pathetically, not even asking for permission as you clench around him again and cum all over his cock. he’s learned you so well, he can tell when you cum, and he only speeds up the pace of his thrusting to fuck you through it.

at the sound of your pretty noises, kei loses himself, letting the feeling inside snap. thick, white ropes of his cum fly out and stick to your insides, you can feel the extra warmth from it all—it’s hotter than your insides, somehow. even as his pace slows, the thrusts remain just as hard; fucking into you all the way, he’s overstimulating the both of you. all for his greedy, reckless desires.

something had gotten into kei tsukishima, and he knew what it was now. it was all an insatiable, needy scratch inside his brain, only to be helped when in a few weeks, you take that plastic test in the bathroom of his dorm, and those two pink lines show up. he’d only be helped then.

[moonlightrafe]

Thawed Out

summary: Frustrated after losing a game to your brothers’ team, you let Cregan take his frustration out on you.

pairing: Modern!Cregan x Targtower!Reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: Explicit smut, semi-public/rough sex, spit, p in v, creampie, 18+ MDNI

note: Sorry it’s been a month since I’ve posted!! Watch this flop asdfghkl

Your eyelids flutter as Sara lightly dabs glittery eyeshadow onto them with her ring finger.

“Try to hold still,” she tells you, just as your reflection catches her eye in the mirror that hangs on the back of her closet door.

“Oh no,” she frowns, making note of the jersey you’re wearing, “Cregan is not going to like that.”

The jersey — all black, has no distinctive feature of any team, but it does have the name “Targaryen” etched onto the back, and 01 on the front, which is your brother Aemond’s hockey number.

Cregan is number 13.

“Targaryen is my last name,” you remind her, “and besides, Cregan is the one who wants to hide me. If he wants me to wear his jersey to games, he will have to make me more than just a fuck buddy,” you shrug.

Her lips turn downward into a frown, but she nods her head in agreement with you.

Very few people are aware of your relationship with Cregan. He’s a good guy with a big heart, the complete opposite of a fuckboy or a player. The main, if not only, reason why the two of you decided to keep things a secret was so you wouldn’t have to deal with the backlash from your brothers.

Cool air whips against your face, and tensions are high with only a few minutes left remaining of the game.

You watch on eagerly as Aegon pulls a move that is supposedly illegal, but the ref’s don’t seem to count it. Resulting in your brothers’ team winning the game.

You can’t help but wince as you watch Cregan rip his helmet off and make a beeline toward Aegon on the ice.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“Aww,” your eldest brother frowns in response, “Run home with your tail between your legs!” he calls. Cregan grunts in response while the rest of Aegon’s teammates, Aemond included, howl maniacally like wolves. Making a mockery of Cregan and the rest of his team.

You roll your eyes at the scene and push your way out of the stands and through the crowd.

You pick at your fingernails nervously as you wait outside the locker room, refusing to enter until the remainder of Cregan’s teammates pass you by.

The smell of sweat fills your senses as you enter the abandoned locker room.

“Cregan,” you call, “baby?”

The locker room is quiet and dim. The only audible sound in the room is the faint buzzing of one of the poorly lit fluorescent lights.

Cregan is sat on one of the benches, his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. You reach your arms around him.

“Hey,” you offer, “for what it’s worth, you did great.”

“I’m just so fucking pissed off!”

Cregan’s deep voice echoes through the locker room as he throws his stick to the floor. As mentioned earlier, Cregan’s a stand up guy, but his temper is a force to be reckoned with; and nothing sets it off quite like losing a hockey game.

“I know you’re upset baby,” you state empathetically as you dig the pads of your fingers into his shoulders. An attempt to massage the tense tissue, he all but grunts in response.

“You wanna take it out on me?”

“What?” He asks in a deadpan.

“Your frustration … you should just take it out on me.”

Cregan raises his eyebrows at this but he takes no time to react. He stands up quickly, his thick frame hovering over yours before he shoves you against the lockers abruptly. Gripping at your chin with force, he demands you to open your mouth. You oblige and he spits directly down your throat, you swallow obediently with a content mewl as wetness pools at your center.

A pathetic “please” is all you’re able to muster out to him as he stares at you hungrily.

He takes a seat on the bench, tugging his uniform pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles in one swift motion, exposing his cock.

His calloused hands lift you onto his lap with haste. A shiver runs through your body as he yanks down your leggings and underwear in a quick swoop, causing you to hiss as cool air fans your cunt. It isn’t long before Cregan’s warm hand is cupping you, his fingers playing in your slick.

You want to cry out when he removes his hand from you but once his hands are at your thighs again, spreading you open, you feel the throbbing head of his cock prodding against you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, egging him on, “come on, I said, take it out on me.”

A growl erupts from his chest as he forcefully spears you down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt. Your eyes flutter shut and you try your best to suppress a moan as he begins to split you open.

He continues with unrelenting thrusts while his grip on your hips only tightens, taking full control.

“Fuckin. Targaryen’s,” he says through gritted teeth, harshly slapping the swell of your ass. Your head snaps up as you glare at him disapprovingly.

“Obviously not you baby,” he coo’s reassuringly, running his fingers along the red handprint that’s forming, soothing the pain before kneading at the tender flesh.

“It’s just— Gods, do they fuckin’ rile me up,” he mumbles as both his hands make their way to your waist again, helping him thrust into you even harder.

“I know, baby, I know” you whimper, pressing your forehead to his as he continues to fuck into you at an unrelenting pace.

“But you know just how to make me feel better, don’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you choke out as he perfectly angles his cock against your cervix.

“Yeah you do, this sweet little pussy is all I need.”

You can feel the tension building in your body at his words, your breath coming out in short gasps as he expertly moves inside of you.

His fingers trail down from your hips to your cunt again, sending hot waves of electricity through you.

His intense, grey, gaze never leaves yours. With each thrust, you feel yourself on the brink of insanity. Each drag of his length has you closer and closer to the edge.

Cregan moves with determination, his body pressed hard against yours as he takes you to new heights of pleasure. His digits finally find the apex of your thighs and pinch at your throbbing bud, causing you to gasp and arch your back.

Urging him on as he expertly works his fingers over your most sensitive spot. Each touch sends waves of pleasure through you. With one final pinch and a flick of his thumb, you’re cumming around him — gasping and trembling as the walls of your cunt tighten around his length.

His breathing comes labored and heavy, his eyes squeezed shut as he chases his own release. His own hips stuttered as he felt you continue to pulse around him. Unable to keep his composure any longer, he lets out a loud groan and spills himself inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuckin’ Targaryen’s,” he drawls, this time his tone is filled with appreciation.

[rosicheeks]

hi rosi! well, i was the anon from yesterday or whenever about the fantasy about being with you and read all your tags so like...i guess i'll be an emoji anon! i'll decide by the end of the ask which ill use i guess lmao. how was your day? i kinda wanted to ask like, so i guess you just go in your car and hangout at parking lots or whatever a decent amount, is that just to get some alone time? i forget what your current living situation is. also like what do you do for fun?! i know your a lil weed girly and you do your art (which i love btw, i want to try and buy a piece next time i get some kind of spare money) but is there anything else you like to do? i hope you had a good day whenever you get around to answering this<3 (btw i wanna smooch you i am telepathically kissing you right now) - 🎤

Hi hi hi!! Welcome 🎤 🫶💖

My day was pretty good! How was yours lovely? 🥰

Hmmm why I chill in my car is kinda complicated tbh. But I guess the main reason is so I can smoke and just kinda relax and enjoy myself ya know?

Yes yes yes I am a lil weed girly 🥰😇 and I do love my art (any sort - painting, photography, coloring 💖, scrapbooking, trying to get back into drawing)

I’m also a huge music nerd! I went to a performing arts high school and trained in vocal music. Learned a bunch of music theory and did a buuuunch of voice lessons. My goal was to be an opera singer but life had other plans.

Other than that I’m kinda boring. Just like chilling and watching shows (occasionally movies but I’m a sleepy baby so I usually fall asleep pretty fast).

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[icyminghao]

lean on me

pairing: husband!mingyu x gn!reader genre: drabble, hurt/comfort, some fluff warning(s): mentions of food, mean coworkers word count: 0.9k

summary: your husband seems to be feeling down, but you can’t seem to figure out why.

Your husband’s being awfully quiet tonight.

He’d come back home a few hours ago, saying nothing other than a soft “Hi” in reply to your enthusiastic greeting, and immediately went to take a shower without smothering you in hugs and kisses.

Which is incredibly unusual, considering his tendency to start telling you anything and everything about his day the moment he walks through the front door to your shared apartment despite having told you almost everything through text already (to your endearment). Coupled with the fact that today was his first day at his new job, you fully expected Mingyu to have many things to recount from his day at work and the welcome dinner afterwards.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, you try to recall the events of the day as you scroll through your text history with your husband, but come up short. Your eyes gloss over the last few texts he’d sent you as you purse your lips together in thought.

my gyu: i’m going to the welcome dinner now!! [18:01]

my gyu: i’m so excited :) can’t wait to tell u all abt it!! [18:01]

you: so excited for u!! have fun bb <3 [18:02]

you: how’s the dinner? [20:12]

The realisation that your husband never replied to your text hits you only now, and you’re met with the sudden urge to check up on him.

You pocket your phone, brows furrowed as you shuffle through the apartment and into your bedroom, only to be met with Mingyu’s back as he lies down on the side of the bed further away from the door.

If your suspicions are correct, your husband is most definitely not sleeping.

Something must’ve happened at the welcome dinner.

You creep towards Mingyu, climbing onto your side of the bed and engulfing your husband in a back hug immediately. Mingyu tenses for a split second before resting his hands on your arms.

“Is everything okay?” your voice is soft, and you plant a kiss on the back of Mingyu’s neck while waiting patiently for a response. Mingyu hums weakly in affirmation.

Silence ensues as you don’t probe him further, deciding to give him time to process things.

Your husband sits up and turns around to face you after a while, and you smile at him while following suit, hoping to give him some of your energy.

“I went to the welcome dinner earlier…” Mingyu begins as you nod, reaching out to hold his hands in yours as you rub circles on the back of his hands.

“They said it was company tradition to diss the newcomer, so that’s what they did once we got a few drinks in,” you raise an eyebrow at Mingyu’s words, but make no move to interrupt him. “The jabs were funny at first, but some of them started talking about my lisp and imitating it, and I just didn’t find it funny anymore. I didn’t say anything, company tradition and all, and I feel stupid for even feeling upset when they were just joking and—”

“It’s not a joke if it’s making you upset, baby,” you can’t take it anymore, deciding to cut him off while squeezing his hands tighter. “Your feelings are valid, and they shouldn’t have made fun of you like that. Not then, and not ever.”

Mingyu’s eyes start glistening, a result of him tearing up at your words. “But if- if this is a running tradition, then the others would have been able to handle the disses. I’m just- sensitive for no reason, right?”

You detach one of your hands from your husband’s to cup his cheek, a deep frown etched on your face.

“Baby,” you begin, slowly picking and choosing your words in your head, “You’re not being sensitive, you’re allowed to feel upset about this. This… ‘tradition’ is already very questionable in the first place, and I’m really sorry you had to go through that. It just doesn’t sit right with me to have people literally insult and make fun of you and for you to have to be fine with it. You can feel upset. In fact, you should feel upset, because there’s literally no world where such behaviour should be condoned.”

Mingyu leans into your touch, letting the first tear fall from his left eye. Your heart aches so much, and you pull Mingyu into your embrace, where sobs start racking his body as he buries his face into your neck.

“T-thank you,” your husband manages between sobs, and you squeeze him tighter around you. “You’re always so good to me.”

As a people-centric person, Mingyu tends to put others’ concerns and well-being first, often disregarding himself and his own feelings that it eventually culminates into him feeling miserable. Even then, however, he puts up a front as much as he can, and it breaks your heart every time you see him like this. You’re determined to remind him that he’s loved, and that his feelings, just like anyone else’s, matters.

The next few minutes or so are spent in each other’s arms as you encourage Mingyu to cry his heart out, and it’s a while later when he’s calmed down, head on your chest as you both lie down and get ready to retire for the night.

“I love you,” Mingyu whispers, tilting his head up to kiss your jaw. “I should quit my job, shouldn’t I?”

You smile, pulling him tighter against your chest. “I love you, too, baby. I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do.”

“And baby? There’s nothing funny about your lisp. If anything, I think it’s really cute.”

Mingyu beams at you in response, and you swear his goofy grin could light up the whole world.

You’re never letting him go.

a/n: kind of… inspired by the latest gose episode (class president part 2)

masterlist

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @viscade @pepperonidk @belladaises @tastymintchocolate @chanceonceli @hrts4hanniehae @wantmatthew @moonkyeom @coupstatu

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶For You | Alien Boyfriend

Smut Below

-🪐

Your boyfriend and you have been dating for a little while now. He was so kind and caring but he seemed a little off today. When you asked him about it he broke down “I’ve been hiding something from you.” He’d say not being able to look at you.

“I’m actually not from this planet.” He said but you thought was joking. Until he taped his watch making his disguise go away. He stood tall, palish skin with lengthy arms. He was telling the truth, he was.. an alien.

When you stared at him in disbelief he continued to talk. “Our planets females have almost all died off. The ones that are alive are being protected. You humans are the easiest way we can continue to breed.” He said with a sigh.

“Is that the only reason you were with me then..? To breed?” You should be scared or even remotely worried. But you weren’t, you’ve spent so much time with him and he was still him? Still this man you had been falling for. It wasn’t all an act right?

“I mean I did come here to find a mate, however on our planet. We mate for life. I wasn’t planning on just- you know and leaving.” He said looking at you with truthful eyes.

You let out a sigh of almost relief before moving towards him. Reaching up to cup his face, his skin felt smooth and a bit cold to the touch. You pull him closer to you kissing him softly. “You’re taking this very well” he said with a chuckle.

“Alien or human, it’s still you. And.. I like you.. so” you say a small blush creeping on your face.

“So you’ll be my mate! Really!” He said excitedly.

“Yes, silly.” You teased back.

After that day he felt comfortable being his true self around you. Not using his disguise whenever he could, and knowing you loved his true self made him love you even more.

The first time having sex was different, he asked if you’d rather have him as a human however you protested. Letting him know you wanted him, him truly.

He had you up against the wall, one of his long arms being enough to hold you up. His cock was a shade of soft blue, almost tentacle like with bumps up the shaft. When he pushed into your core the feeling was almost enough to have you cumming. His cock filled you up so fully.

His long arms came around you holding you tightly as he fucked up into you. His mouth crashing against yours as his long tongue lapped at the inside of your mouth. He was whimpering into the kiss. When he pulled away you realized his face was a softer shade of blue almost like blush.

“My mate, my beautiful mate. You’re mine forever. I’ll love you forever- ah forever mine” he panted out. “I’m gonna lay a clutch in you- gonna be even more beautiful with our chil-children”

When he finally came you could feel the small eggs moving past him into you. The feeling bringing you to another climax. Your belly swelled at the eggs being laid inside you. It felt warm and heavy.

He pulled you close to him, bringing you to your shared bed and curling up with you. He couldn’t wait for you to give birth. Couldn’t wait to see you with his young but more importantly couldn’t wait to do it all over again. With his beautiful mate.

[agents-are-dicks]

God what I’d give to be piled up in my aunts bed, in my strawberry shortcake nightgown, staying up way too late watching reruns of The Nanny again

Unplanned rant in tags but I’m leaving it. I’ll probably delete this tomorrow.