#in all honesty they need to give the girls a better standing

[skijumpingf1]

Fis listen to the girls, halvor and mac

[moonsgemini]

nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

-

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

[luveline]

also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 

“Yeah, babe.” 

“No thanks.” 

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 

“I’ll have socks.” 

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 

“Why?” 

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 

“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 

“No shoes,” Amy says. 

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sick III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda gets sick

"Momma," You say, hopping down the last step," Morsa's throwing up in the bathroom again."

Pernille looks up from the stove and sighs. "I thought I told you that you weren't meant to go looking for Morsa?"

You shrug. "I didn't go looking for her."

Pernille doesn't believe you in the slightest.

Magda had come down with some sickness, likely the flu, a few days ago. It had started off as just an inconvenience, a stuffy nose and a few headaches. Then came the throwing up and Magda being forced to lean over the toilet bowl for a few hours in the night when she was meant to be sleeping.

Pernille knew it was wishful thinking to hope that the sickness remained with Magda only but you were a bit of a nightmare when it came to getting sick so she wanted to limit the chance of you catching it as much as possible.

If only you understood that because since Magda's sudden illness, you seem to have gotten incredibly clingy towards her like you don't want to stray out of her sight for whatever reason.

Pernille purses her lips as she looks at you, stirring the soup in the pot as she ponders what to do next.

"Why don't you have tv time?" She asks, finally settling on something to keep you occupied.

You don't get a lot of tv time, at least not where you're in control of the tv. You've never really craved it when you could play with girl-swan and girl-moose or kick a football around the garden.

But still, you're a little kid and kids love tv.

"I think Scooby Doo is on."

You think for a moment before your face twists into something akin to annoyance. "I don't like German Scooby Doo," You say," Can I watch Ben 10 instead?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

Pernille sets you up with an episode of Ben 10 in German and you settle on the sofa to watch it. With you now occupied, she sneaks up with a bowl of chicken soup just as Magda makes her way back to bed.

"You look...better."

"Don't lie." It's nice to see that Magda's humour is still there. "Is this for me?"

"Chicken soup." Pernille hands the bowl over. "You should probably wait for it to start cooling down."

"I'll be fine," Magda says," It's not like I can taste it so the heat might be the only enjoyable thing about it."

"How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"

"Can't take any yet. Hasn't been four hours but I'll be fine. I spoke to Linda. She said the throwing up only lasts a day. I'll be alright by tomorrow."

"Still," Pernille says," Eat your soup and drink lots of water. We're meant to be setting a good example to Princesse."

The corners of Magda's mouth quirks up a little. "Where is she? You know, I'd feel a lot better if she's here?"

Pernille rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Oh, I see. When I'm sick, I can't see her so she doesn't get infected but when you're sick, you can see her all you want? How is that fair?"

Her tone is teasing and Magda flashes a wolfish grin.

"Swedes don't infect Swedes. It's a rule."

"Well, it's great that she's Danish too, huh? No Princesse time for you until-"

"Hey, Princesse. What have you got there?"

Pernille whips her head around to see you standing by the door, clutching the little first aid kit that's usually hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

"I thought you were watching Ben 10?" She says as you come in, clambering up onto the bed and sitting on Magda's outstretched legs.

"Got bored," You reply, forcing the zip open and rummaging through it," I'm gonna make Morsa better though."

"She's sick, Princesse," Pernille says," Are you sure? You can get sick too."

You give Pernille the biggest judgemental look you can manage. "I know, Momma. I'm not silly. But I'm still going to make Morsa better."

In all honesty, Pernille is a little intrigued about how you're going to make Magda feel better with the first aid kit so she doesn't push anymore for you to leave the room.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes."

You bring out one of the bandages, winding it around Magda's head and tucking the end into itself.

"There you go!" You say," Now your head won't hurt. Does your throat hurt too?"

Magda nods.

You whip out one of the big plasters that's meant for big cuts and grazes on the knee and place it over Magda's mouth, making sure it's completely secure.

"You need to stop talking," You tell her sternly," Because that makes your throat hurt." You turn to Pernille. "Momma, I fixed her!"

Pernille has to force down her laughter at the bewildered expression on Magda's face.

"I can see that," Pernille says," We should leave Morsa alone now so she can recover. You did a good job."

You nod. "I know." You blow Magda a kiss. "I can't kiss you because then I'll get sick," You tell her," So have air kisses!"

You blow more kisses at Magda and shuffle off the bed, taking Pernille's hand.

"Can we finish watching Ben 10, Momma? It's a really good episode!"

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

The Go-Ahead - Art Donaldson

request: hiii could you do any plot/story/scenario where tashi knows art is interested/in love/infatuated or just attracted to reader so she gives him the green light as long as it’ll have him play tennis better … sorry if this doesn’t make sense or is weirdly specific i’m just a little obsessed with this scenario

i took some liberties with the personality of Y/N since it wasn’t specified, i made her shy and a little awkward because i could definitely see art falling for an adorably shy woman after being with tashi’s confident self for so long. i wrote this as the reader being female because gender wasn’t specified, but let me know if you’d like me to change it!! i personally really hate the way i wrote this and it’s definitely not my best, i honestly might rewrite it eventually because there’s kind of a lack of romance but i really hope y’all like it:’)

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader

Warnings: thoughts of infidelity, probably swearing, suggestive words, idk if i missed anything else but yeah

Word Count: 2.2k

Description: Y/N caught Art’s eye the second she walked into the Stanford reunion Tashi had practically forced Art to attend. He couldn’t believe how breathtakingly beautiful she was or the fact that he was thinking this way about someone other than Tashi. Unbeknownst to Art, Tashi notices and forms a plan.

Art loved Tashi wholeheartedly, he always had and always would. Some part of him knew that Tashi would never love him as much as he did her, but he felt content knowing she chose him to spend her life with. Even if they fought about tennis and rarely spoke about anything else, Art never thought anybody could take his eyes off Tashi.

That is, until you walked into the venue the Stanford reunion was being held in. It’s almost as if his eyes were drawn to your presence entering the room, eyes immediately snapping towards you. His breath catches in his throat for a second, his eyes widening slightly. He lets out an awkward cough, nodding when Tashi asks if he’s okay.

He tries not to make it obvious when he glances back at you to catch another look, but Tashi notices and follows his line of sight. She has to force herself to hold back a scoff at first, but an idea quickly forms in her head. She studies you just like Art, noticing the way you give awkward smiles and how the flush in your cheeks never seems to lessen as you fidget awkwardly and stumble through small talk with former classmates.

You are beautiful, even Tashi can admit that, she doesn’t blame Art for allowing his eyes to wander (especially with the state of their relationship). As you move closer to the couple, Tashi suddenly realizes that she had a class with you all those years ago. You were kind to her after her knee injury, you weren’t the best of friends but you had taken notes for her while she missed class for physical therapy and always offered a helping hand when needed.

She glances at Art, noticing how his eyes are still trained on you. She chuckles slightly before making her mind up, looping her arm through Art’s and practically dragging him over to where you stand.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so good to see you!” She plasters on a smile, chuckling slightly when you look at her wide eyed for a second. You were still the same shy girl you were back then, it had honestly always annoyed Tashi how unconfident you were.

“Tashi! Wow, you look amazing.” You smile at her after getting over your initial awkwardness, turning to look at Art for a second before looking back at her. Tashi clocks it immediately, but doesn’t let either of you know.

“Oh hush, look at you! I’m sure you remember Art, right?” She lays a hand on her husband’s arm, turning to look at him. He’s looking at you like a lovesick puppy and, in all honesty, it doesn’t bother her one bit.

“Yeah, of course! You guys were like the prodigies of our class, I think you guys are part of the very few of us who actually went on to make a name for themselves.” You chuckle, glancing at Art again.

It takes Art a minute to even speak, but his mouth finally starts to move as he holds a hand out to you. “It’s nice to meet you. Y/N, was it?”

You shake his hand softly, nodding your head. “I helped Tashi a little after her knee injury, I’m honestly surprised she even remembered me!” Chuckling awkwardly, you take your hand back and hope he didn’t notice how sweaty it was.

Tashi pretends to notice something across the room, apologizing profusely and saying she’ll be right back. When Art tries to follow her, she shoos him away and tells him to stay talking with you. He tries not to seem too excited at the idea, but the way he turns around quickly gives him away.

Art notices the way you fidget with the rings on your fingers and the way your eyes dart around awkwardly as if you’re looking for the nearest escape. He honestly thinks it’s adorable, but tries his best to help you feel less awkward by starting a new conversation.

“What was your major?” He asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. The question seems to ease the tension, your eyes lighting up as you smile.

“Originally it was Journalism but after I realized that I’d have to interview people, I very quickly switched to just having English as my major. I wrote a few books that didn’t get as much attention as I hoped they would, so I’m an editor for a magazine now.”

“It’s actually kind of crazy, the last thing I edited was a column about you.” You smile at him, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat when he smiles in return.

“All good things, I hope?” He asks, making you nod your head quickly as you jump to reassure him.

Tashi never returned to the conversation despite swearing she would and you talked with Art for what felt like hours. Before you knew it, you were laughing like old friends and the conversation was flowing nicely. You catch yourself wondering what it would be like if you had met him all those years ago, if maybe he’d have had a crush on you before he dated Tashi.

You knew it was wrong to think that way about a married man, but you rationalized it out by saying they were just thoughts. Truly, that’s all they were. You would never try meddling in a relationship that seemed as strong as theirs. You didn’t realize how long you’d been talking until you glanced down at your phone, your mouth falling open in shock.

“We’ve been talking for so long!” Turning your phone around to show Art the time, his own mouth falls open too before splitting into a grin.

“I really hate to say this, but I really have to go. I have to go into work early tomorrow and I really need to get a good night’s sleep beforehand.” You look up at him with puppy dog eyes and Art swears he felt his heart skip a beat.

“That’s alright, I really enjoyed talking to you. Let’s go find Tashi and we’ll walk you out, we should get going too.” He looks around for a second and almost immediately spots Tashi, pointing her out to you so you two can make your way over.

You say an awkward goodbye once you’re at your car and before you step in, Tashi is calling out to you for your number. “We should keep in touch! We can all go out for drinks sometime.”

You give it to her, honestly a little startled she wanted to keep in contact. You exchange another goodbye before driving off, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you see Art again.

It took Tashi all of two seconds to turn to Art with a raised eyebrow. “You seemed to really like her.” Her voice is deadpan, her arms crossed.

“Wh- What do you mean?” He looks at her wide eyed, like a child who’s been caught. She chuckles, shaking her head.

“I saw the way you looked at her when she walked in and the whole time you guys were talking, I’m not stupid.” Art gaps at her, his mouth opening and shutting a few times.

“Art, I don’t give a fuck. Why do you think I asked for her number?” He’s still gaping at her, trying to find the right words.

“You’ve been playing like shit, you can’t deny it. She made you the most excited I’ve seen you in a while. If she’s what it takes for you to play good again, I don’t care if you fuck her. Hell, you could enter a full blown relationship with her and I wouldn’t care if it means you play better.”

Art tries to defend himself, tries to say he would never do that to Tashi, but part of him is excited at the prospect of her giving him the go-ahead. After lots of convincing and back and forth between them, Art decides to just go for it. You guys all hung out after that night a few times, but eventually Tashi was always “busy” and it turned into just you and Art going out for drinks or watching movies. It wasn’t until after a few months of these hang outs when Art decided to bring up the idea to you.

“I know this is a really strange offer, but I really just need you to hear me out before you say anything.” His words make you raise an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. You notice how nervous he seems, his thumb rubbing the ring on his finger.

“I find you attractive, I honestly really like you. I know I’m married to Tashi, but her and I have honestly been going downhill for months. All we ever talk about is tennis, she barely even wants to touch me anymore. I- I know it’s strange, but she gave me permission to pursue something with you. If you’re interested, that is.”

You stare at him for a second, your face void of any emotion. “Did she really give you the okay or is this just some manipulation tactic? Because you know how I feel about cheating.”

He nods his head quickly, “If you want, you can talk to her about it. We’ve been discussing this since the night I met you, that’s why these hang outs eventually turned into just you and I.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t want this, but you didn’t want to enter into something that would inevitably cause pain for all parties involved.

“So, what, I’m just supposed to fuck you and then let you go home to your family? I can’t do that to myself, Art.” In the months that you’d been hanging out with Art, your shyness slowly disappeared and he got to see the more confident side of you. He couldn’t deny that it made him like you all the more.

“I-I mean, if you really wanted to, we don’t have to just do that. We could be in a relationship, I could stay with you some nights and go home for Lilly other nights. I don’t want you to think I just want to use you, because I don’t want to. You’re amazing, Y/N. These past few months have been so nice, I love just getting to sit with you and not having to talk about tennis or training. You make me feel normal, like I’m not just a puppet.”

You rub your forehead again, closing your eyes to think. “We can do this, but all three of us need to sit down and discuss boundaries. We need to do this right.”

Art’s face breaks out into a bright grin, his hands reaching for your own. “That’s fine with me, thank you for giving this a chance.”

The next day, you found yourself having the awkward sit down with him and Tashi to discuss boundaries. It took nearly the whole day, but eventually things were settled. With the weight of that off your chest, you felt comfortable starting something with Art.

Months went by and your love for Art only grew deeper. He was so kind and attentive, always making sure you were still okay with the arrangement and that you felt cared for. You feared the dynamic would be weird, but you often saw Tashi and even met Lilly a few times. Things were going amazing and you couldn’t ask for anything more.

It was nearly six months into your relationship the first time Art told you he loved you. You were lying in bed, the TV casting a glow in the otherwise dark room. Art was cuddled into your side, his head resting on her chest and his arm wrapped tightly around you. As he listened to the sound of your heartbeat and felt your chest move with every breath you took, he realized just how glad he was to have met you that night. He had gotten better at playing, he felt more loved than he had honestly ever felt with Tashi, and he was truly and utterly content with his life.

“Y/N?” He whispers your name, propping his head up on your chest to look at you. You look down at him, running your fingers through his hair as you smile softly at him. You hum softly to let him know you’re listening, it was something you did often that made Art’s heart skip several beats.

“I love you, truly. I’m so glad I met you and I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.” His words make you smile, your cheeks heating up as you lean down to give him a million kisses.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.” Art grins at you, sitting up so he can kiss your face. You giggle at the feeling, grabbing his face to pull him in for a real kiss. You were truly so grateful for Art and your relationship, and you were grateful for Tashi allowing it. This was the happiest you’d been in years and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[ch4rrykisses]

when boyfriend!rafe decided to grow a mullet, there was so much going through your head. some thoughts more impure than others

rafe never considered growing his hair out to be long again after he buzzed it— in all honesty, the buzz was just more convenient; his scalp never got overheated with a head of hair, he didn’t have to slick it to the side or have curtain bangs constantly brushing over his eyes making it harder to see. but when his girl suggested he grow it out for the fall and the cooler months, who was he to deny her?

when you’d convinced rafe to grow it out, you thought that meant going back to that messy, curtain bang look you loved oh so much, but after the remainder of august, september and october spent growing it out? it almost looked like a shaggy mess. he decided to get that fixed. so the day he got a haircut to clean up, he said he was coming home with a surprise for you. you had no idea he’d essentially changed his look completely.

upon stepping through the doors of tannyhill you practically skidded over to him, eyes immediately locked on the hair, the sides shaved down while the ends at the nape of his neck curled off to the sides slightly, hair atop his head all messy in a way that had the cotton of your panties getting soaked through. god he looked like a walking wet dream.

rafe’s lips quirked up, that signature, cocky smirk gracing his features making him look even better than he already did. you took a step closer to him, fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his head, sliding the softness through your fingers.

“looks real good rafe,” you mumbled, rafe swore he saw something dance through your eyes, along the lines of mischievous, needy in a sense.

“yeah? y’like that? huh?” he rasped out, voice low. one step through the front door and he’d already felt as if he walked into a dragons den with you. a large palm splayed over the small of your back as your head nodded in response.

“like it, yeah, like it a lot.” your nails softly scraped over his scalp, eliciting a groan from his mouth, the throaty noise causing another pang of arousal to shoot down from your stomach, thighs clenching in turn. after that moment it was almost like a frenzy, before you could think your lips were crushing against one another's, his hands lifting the underside of your thighs, holding you with ease as he walked up the spiral staircase.

his fingers brushed over the crotch of the light blue cotton underwear you’d been wearing once you reached his room, hazy eyes dropping downwards once he parted from you.

“this how hot y’get from a damn haircut, baby? get you acting all crazy?” he cooed, patronizing tone covering his voice, the only sound you’d been able to give in return was a weak whine, hips beginning to gyrate in order to catch his thumb against your clit.

he swore he’d never seen a hotter sight then right now, his girl a mess all because he got a haircut? he wouldn’t complain though. if this is all that needed to happen to get you worked up he'd gladly continue. you knew rafe had always been good looking but this? this haircut? it called for a whole new plan of action. the plan of him getting you stuffed full of cock from how good he looked.

“shittttt,” his voice was a gravely whisper, lips parted while he pushed the fabric off to the side, single digit pushing past your sopping folds and into your fluttering hole. a squeak fell from your lips, head now heavy falling onto his shoulder. he hadn’t even put you on your feet yet, enjoying the way that he could simply hold you with a single arm while the other was stuffed between your legs. now he was positive you couldn't even stand on your own. “yeah, fuckin like this shit don’t you? huh? god damn, look at this little pussy. she’s leakin for me.” he drawled.

the only response you could muster was a weak moan, the second he pushed in another finger? it was like cloud nine hit. he pumped them in and out of you, thumb rubbing lazy circles at your bud, the slick noises of your juices filling the room, and part of him wondered if this is what heaven felt like, if he was catching a glimpse of it right now.

moans were akin to fountain the way they flowed from your lips, noises that were once all soft now a mess of hiccups, whimpers and gasps, especially as the orgasm you were feeling in the pit of your stomach got closer with every flick of his thumb, every curl of his fingers inside you. rafe swore he was going to lose his mind, the second you clenched around his fingers he did in fact. his lips covered yours in a hasty kiss, tongue sloppily entering your mouth and tangling up with yours.

that right there was your tipping point.

in what could have probably be considered record timing in your books, he had you creaming over his hand, shaky little whimpers falling against his lips which were entirely swallowed by his mouth, juices flowing down his fingers until you swore he’d finger fucked you dry. his lips pulled away from yours, eyes glued to your thighs as they trembled around his forearm.

“fuck, if id’a known i'd have you moaning my name like that, would’ve gotten this shit done sooner.” a lazy giggle slipped out at his words, the elated noise slipping out of your lips before you could stop it.

oh this haircut was such a good idea.

[harmonicakai]

Powerslide

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.

Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol

A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3

“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you” —Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House

The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over. 

You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.

Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.

Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation. 

You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.

“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.

“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”

You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.

“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”

His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.

“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance. 

“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”

There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.

“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”

“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.

“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”

“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”

“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him. 

“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”

“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”

“And who’s the right girl?”

“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”

Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.

When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.

“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”

“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”

“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”

“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.

“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”

“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”

“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.

By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.

As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”

He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it. 

Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”

You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”

Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking his hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.

When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.

“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”

Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in. 

“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!

[skteezcursed]

❝0258❞ — j.yh.

PAIRING. ex!jeong yunho x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS.smut. slight toxic behavior. dom!yunho. switch leaning sub!reader. possessiveness. alcohol consumption. yunho is borderline toxic (i apologize). fingering. orgasm denial. creampie. p in v. hair pulling. unprotected sex (please, do NOT). lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS. yunho doesn’t like to share, he never did, especially not you. it doesn’t matter you two broke up, you are still his, so when he sees you flirting with other guys in a frat party (that you weren’t the biggest fan of), something builds inside of him and he just needs to make it clear that you belong to him, and him alone.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 4k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. thanks to @juyofans and @yunhoszn for the costume idea, thanks @bro-atz for the plot idea, thanks coachella for the cowboy yunho with the rings, thanks for his parents for not having used protection or prevented their son from being born, because this man wrecked me completely. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

  He knew he would probably find you here. He knew you liked to party from time to time and how your friends would always lure you into one or another, even when you two were together. And in all honesty, he was okay with that, except for the fact you were at a frat party less than a month after you two broke up. Wearing a fucking chromed dress that barely covers your ass, the metallic make up just making you stand our more and he never hated a futuristic themed party more than he did now.

  As if that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you ever since they found you with your friends on the corner, dancing and smiling all the way. His eyes lingering at your outfit, wishing you at least had shorts underneath your dress. Only if he was allowed to touch you, only if he was allowed to see under that dress.

  “Well, this is becoming an embarrassment,” Jongho’s voice quickly found Yunho as he watched the youngest of his frat drown the last of his drink before indicating you on the other side of the room. “Weren’t you the one that broke up?”

  “So?” 

  Yunho tried his best to not make his eyes wander to you, or to acknowledge the amount of guys that were eyeing you, surrounding you, just waiting for an opportunity to -

“So, why do you care so much if another guy comes along? Aren’t they single afterall?”

If Yunho could punch Jongho at that moment we would, but he chose better, just turning the beer down his throat before meeting you again. A group of guys from another frat had gotten closer to your group. Yunho knew them, so maybe he -

  “He’s simping again, isn’t he?” Yunho just scoffed at Yeosang’s remark, feeling Mingi joining the others, a hand draped around Yunho’s shoulder. “If you can’t keep your eyes away from them, why did you break up in the first place?”

“Because (y/n) was saying that a lot of girls were trying to get with him and he wasn’t pushing them away, so -”

“Why would I give them the time of day when I had her? It was like she didn’t trust me, that’s why we broke up!”

“So, that has nothing to do with the fact that you started to notice how guys were always around them and accused them of cheating?” The other boys shook their heads as Yunho bit his inner cheek at Mingi’s remark. “So you didn’t trust her, and decided to break up, but now, you can’t keep your eyes off of them in that pretty little tiny dress that -”

“Mingi,” it was a warning, making the other tall one chuckle, raising his hands with a smirk. “You guys are fucking -”

“Oh, looks like she moved on from you, dude.”

  At that, his head snapped your direction, and he found Juyeon, from TBZ frat rather close with you, his hands on your back and you were fucking smiling at him, your flirty smile, the smile that made Yunho want you pin you down on the closest surface and fuck you senseless just to take that fucking smile off your lips.

  “And off he goes!”

Yunho could still hear all three guys behind him as he took the first steps in your direction. There was no way you’d go with Juyeon, no you were Yunho’s and no one else's, but as he got closer, he noticed one of your friends caught your attention, making you put some distance – which should be bigger – between you and Juyeon. As you turned to say something, your face got closer to his as Yunho noticed how the guy’s arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer. He had half moons marking his palm as the custom rings Hongjoong had made for him dig into the skin.

  As you pulled away, your eyes met with his, making you stop almost instantly, only moving because your friend pulled you in. In all truth, you didn’t want to come to this party, you didn’t want to leave the house at all, ever since you and Yunho broke up, a lot of things crossed your mind as in the actual reason for that, as he came with a ‘I just think it's best if we go our separate ways, this isn’t working anymore’ and left at that, ignoring your calls and texts, until you gave up after almost a week. 

  If it weren’t for Alexa, you probably weren't even gonna be at the NCT frat party, also, you thought that Yunho would have gone to the BTS frat last night and not show up at this one so you wouldn’t bump into him. As if that wasn’t enough, all you could think about was the face he gave you as Alexa guided you through the bodies of people. He was mad, he was fuming. Was he so annoyed you were there? Did he really hate you that much?

  “Just keep watch okay, I trust the boys, just not every guy in this forsaken party!”

She said as she closed the bathroom door making you touch your head against the wooden door sighing deeply. All you wanted in that moment was to leave that house, curl in bed and cry for everything that happened with Yunho. 

  “Why is my pretty girl sad?” You raised your head finding Haechan getting out of his room, curiously not accompanied by anyone. “Did anyone give you a hard time? Just let me know and me and the boys will -”

  “It’s fine,” you said quick but the sadness was still noticeable in your voice and eyes. “I just want some time alone, I… I just saw Yunho and -”

Haechan’s arms quickly wrapped around your figure as you held back your tears. It has been a month, you should have a grip on your emotions already. You hid your face on Haechan’s chest, apologizing for the amount of makeup that was smearing his shirt, but all he did was kiss you head, temple and cheek while rubbing your bare back, suddenly way more conscious of how open the back was.

“He’s the idiot to let go of you, maybe you should take this party to enjoy, yes?” You nodded slightly, your hand going to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair ends. “Mark sent a picture of you with Juyeon from TBZ frat, he’s a good guy, maybe you should try it out with him.”

“Thanks, I might, just need to get a grip,” you said, pulling away from Haechan cupping his face before leaving a small kiss on his cheek. “Go enjoy your party, I have to wait for Alexa to leave the bathroom anyways.”

  “Come meet me later, I can help you find some fun.”

  You chuckle and waved towards Haechan as you watched him go down the stairs, sighing loudly, cursing on your mind at how long Alexa was taking, getting a little worried at that. 

“Guess you moved on quickly, right pretty?” Your whole body became suddenly aware of how close he was, when did he arrive? Why was he here? “So, who is it gonna be? Juyeon or Haechan? Maybe both?”

  “What do you want, Yunho?” 

  “Can’t I ask about your whereabouts?”

“You lost that right when you broke up with me,” you turned to him, half of the reason why your face was flustered was for the alcohol and annoyance, but the other half was by his presence, if he knew that or not, it was still up to be discovered, “don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember well enough,” he towered over you, making you take small steps behind until your back was pressed against the bathroom door, the smile on Yunho’s lips when he noticed he got you cornered made you press your thighs together, “but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with others wanting what it’s mine.”

“I’m not yours for a while now.”

“Oh pretty, you’ll always be mine,” you can’t lie to yourself and pretend like you didn’t miss the possessiveness Yunho carried whenever you two were together. “Should I remind you?”

  “I’m not yours anymore, Yunho, you decided that.”

  “What if I decided that I don’t want you to be my ex anymore?”

  “Because you are jealous or because you actually mean it?” That was it, that was the moment you saw his eyes darken, the cover from the cowboy hat only helping with that. Your eyes lingered a little longer on his before falling to his lips, a small smirk appearing once you saw them forming a thin line. “Are you jealous that I might like Juyeon or Haechan more than you?”

  As his hands held you by the waist and hip, your breath hitched, but neither of you reacted to that, your body already telling him enough. The hand that was on your waist trailed towards your bare back and a gasp left your lips as the cool metal of his rings touched your exposed lower back, making him smile at that pulling you closer to him. Your hands quickly find the vest he was wearing, getting tangled with the necklaces. He was too close, his body fitting into yours as if it was made for it to happen. 

  You whined as you felt the sharpness of his ring against your skin, what kinda ring he was wearing you didn’t know, but you for sure didn’t want to see it or else, it was just another thing to occupy the ‘Jeong Yunho Folder’ on our mind. For a moment, you tried to react, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers held the vest tighter, making him chuckle as his face got closer to yours, the hat already touching your head as you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Way more stable than yours could ever be.

  “I think that’s something neither should be worried about, don’t you think, pretty?” Before anyone could answer, both heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, but Yunho was faster, turning both of you away and into Haechan’s room, the door closing the same second Alexa opened the bathroom door. You felt the cold metal of the rings on your lips as Yunho was paying attention to the sound on the other side. “Keep quiet pretty and I’ll reward you later, yeah?”

  You just nodded, feeling the pressing of the rings on your lips, one of the rings touching your throat making you raise your head slightly. Who had the fucked up idea to give Jeong Yunho those freaking ring sets? You cursed, closing your eyes, only to open them, becoming even more aware of your situation. Yunho pressing his body against yours, one of his hand on your waist, as his ringed finger touched your lips, one of his legs in between yours, all this while in Haechan’s fucking room.

  Alexa cursing and searching for you was barely on your mind as all of these were processed. How Yunho’s fingers tighten on your waist and he lowered his head leaving the air he was holding against your neck, making you shiver. A small whimper left your lips as his adorned fingers cupped your jaw pulling you to eye him. There was lust and anger in them, and you knew you shouldn’t crave him, but it was impossible not to when we looked like that, with his intense gaze on you as if nothing else existed, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't broken up with you.

  “Why you here Yunho?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” The cool metal of the rings made your breath hitch as the tips scratched the back of your head, his thumb going over your lips before his eyes focused back on your own. “I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

  “We broke up and now you are jealous,” although you tried to sound sure, you both noticed your voice break, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I’m not yours anymore, Yuyu.”

  “Do you think they can make you feel like I do? That they know your body? Know what makes you tickle, what makes your cunt dripping wet?” His face bore on your neck and you felt the cowboy hat fall on the floor as you whimpered feeling his wet lips on your skin. “Do you think anyone can compare to us?”

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me, no?”

  “You accused me of cheating when you were the one doing it all along.”

  Your eyes turned to him, so that's why he broke up with you? Because he thought you cheated? “Who the fuck told you that? One of the girls from your dance class?”

  “I’m not blind, (y/n), I saw it with my own eyes how you’d led some of the guys on, with your damn perfect smile and -”

  “It’s called being polite, Yunho!” You tried pushing him, but he held you close, your attempt barely moving him out of place, making you sigh annoyed. “I never cheated on you, you lunatic, I’m fucking in love with you!”

  “Yet, you were out there flirting with Juyeon and Haechan.”

  You scoff, realizing he really was jealous. “So that’s what this is about! You are fucking jealous.”

  “I told you once before, pretty, no one touches what’s mine, and you are mine,” you tried to close your legs only to find Yunho’s thigh in between them, making him chuckle as his hand on your face went to your neck, no pressure, just pure dominance. “Well well well, apparently someone is feeling horny,” his lips brushed against yours as you tried to move your hips against his thigh to alleviate the pressure, only to get his fingers to secure your waist, unabling you to move. “Maybe I should remind you how well I know your body and how no one will ever be able to please you better than me.”

  In a swift move, he pulled your face to his, lips crashing as your hands finally left his vest, only to mess with his hair as the kiss deepened. You felt his hands wander south towards the valley of your thighs, only to hear him hum against your lips once he found the short shorts that you had under your dress. 

  “What?”

  “I’m torn between calling you a good girl for wearing shorts under this fucking dress and to punish you for using it all together.”

  Your breath hitched as his fingers put slight pressure against your clothed core and clit, throwing your head back and arching, trying to give him more room to work on your lower half, receiving a light chuckle from Yunho. “I was using the shorts because I had no intentions on getting with anyone tonight.”

  “Is this you asking me to call you a good girl, pretty?” You melted at his words getting a snarky comment in response. “If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, now would you? Wouldn’t be dresses like that, wouldn’t be getting other guys attention, or –”

  “Please Yun–argh!” You bit your lip as you felt the pads of his unadorned fingers pressed a little harder against your clit. “Please, I’ll be good, please just touch me, I–I need your fingers, please.” 

  “Now, I need more than that pretty, I’m still not okay with what I saw earlier.”

  “I don’t want them,” your mind haywired for a moment before you could put your thoughts together, remembering how he had seen you with both Juyeon and Haechan earlier. “I want you, Yunho, please I only want you.”

  “That’s better.”

  Nimbly, his hands moved inside your shorts, his cool fingers meeting your heated core and the shock made you shiver a little as you felt his adorned fingers in the back of your head, holding you in place so he could see all the reactions your body had towards him. A satisfied smile danced on his lips as he pulled you in for a kiss before his middle finger entered your wet hole, making you moan against the kiss. In a slow, torturous way, he curled his finger while moving it in and out the best he could, the heel of his hand occasionally pressuring your clit as his lips never got tired of your own. 

  In a swift movement, he added his ring finger inside, curling them while putting pressure on your cit while his other hand put pressure on your neck, forcing your face up to kiss him as your legs were already way too weak to hold you in place, only making Yunho smirk as he started to pump him fingers in and out of you, watching your face twist in pleasure.

  “Who does this cunt belong to?” You couldn’t utter a coherent sound as his fingers nimbly worked their way to help you reach your high. His adorned fingers tighten around your neck making you whimper as your legs start to shake. “To whom does this fucking pussy belong to?”

  “To you,” the cry came as his fingers slowed down inside you enough to help you make a coherent phrase. Knowing Yunho was smirking at your words you manage to open your eyes just enough to find him mere centimeters away from you, the lust in his eyes helping with the build up in your stomach. “This pussy is all yours, Yunho.”

  “That’s it, pretty, now let’s make sure no one forgets it, yes?” You cried as his fingers left your wet folds, being denied the orgasm you so long waited, but as you watched him lick his wet fingers, you could’ve swore you could cum on sight. “Are you gonna be good for me pretty?” You mumble a small ‘yes’ as you watch him guide his fingers towards your mouth. “Suck it, let’s see if this helps you remind how good I make you feel, yeah?”

  As your lips parted, he pushed the two fingers inside, eyes darkening even more as he feels your tongue swirl around it, your lips firmly on the base of his fingers as your eyes never lost contact with his. At that, your hips started to move against his leg in between your thighs, making him chuckle but not stopping you for a second as he observes your wreck yourself using him. To watch you beg and ruin was one of the favorites views he had, so have you do this without him saying, was making him harder in his trousers. 

  His fingers quickly left your mouth as he pulled both yours legs up, making you wrap them around his waist as he guided you to Haechan’s bed. Your friend was totally gonna kill you if he found out, but in that moment, all you wanted was Jeong Fucking Yunho. He dropped you on the bed making you gasp before his hands grab your jaw making you eye him. His unadorned fingers quickly untied his belt and opened his tight pants as you held eye contact with him. Your fingers traveling over your thigh finding your clothed core, you could already feel the wet patch regardless of the panties and shorts that were forming a barrier. 

  “Please, Yuyu,” you begged as he watched your fingers travel to in between your legs.

  “Lose the shorts and panties,” he let go of your jaw and you did as you were told, knees finding the mattress as you finished taking you panties off, being thrown along with Yunho’s pants and vest on the side of the bed. “Now take this useless excuse of a dress,” your arms crossed in front of you, taking the dress away as you watched him unbutton his shirt, watching your naked body in front of you. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking mine.”

  “All yours,” your hands pulled him in for a kiss as the button down shirt met the rest of the pile, the only piece of fabric between you two being the fucking boxers, that you were quick to put your hand through, finding his hard heated leaking cock, making him moon against your lips. “I want your cock, Yun, please, let me have your cock.”

  “All fours, now.”

  As you turned around, he got rid of his boxers, pumping his dick using the pre cum, watching your glistening pussy welcome him. A low groan left his mouth as you wiggled your bottom to him, but instead of getting his cock, a harsh slap found your asscheek making you jolt and moan in pain, the chuckle Yunho gave being the only answer you were gonna have. Behave like a fucking brat, you get treated like a fucking slut. Not that you cared, but in that moment, you wanted his cock, and if you kept acting like that, you knew he wouldn’t dick you down until he got you crying in bed. 

  So, in response, all you did was lower your upper body into the mattress, face turned to the side as one of your hands went up your clit rubbing it eagerly, as he watched your every move. As he felt you had suffered enough, he took two steps towards the bed, his cockheading meeting your wet folds, making your fingers leave your clit as you knew what expected you. In a torturously slow, calculated movement, his cockhead entered you just enough to have you crying for more. 

  As you were about to plea to him again, he buried himself inside of you, holding your hips the same second he felt you jolt forward, holding you in place as he felt you adjust to his size, groaning as he felt you clench around his length while panting face in the bed. The only sign you gave him that it was okay to move, was your hips moving. The chuckle came the same second you felt him pull out almost completely before starting ramming inside of you in a swift motion, hitting your cervix with every single thrust, making you cry a little.

  One of your hands went to find his adorned fingers, as the unadorned ones got a hold of your hair, pulling your head back, as your hand held his adorned fingers in a tight grip. His erratic pace along with his breathing and his cock hitting all the right places, not helping you keep your sanity or a low volume. “Touch yourself for me, pretty, I want you creaming on my cock while I fill you up, can you do that, hun?” 

  Without a second to waste, your available hand reached your bundle of nerve, circle movements quickly taking over as you tried your best to keep a sane mind as you felt Yunho’s deep inside you, saying the filthiest things against your ear as he watched you coming undone with a cocky smirk. It didn’t take you long to come undone with a loud moan as you creamed around Yunho’s dick, as he kept ramming inside of you chasing his own high. 

  “Cum for me, Yuyu, make me yours for life.”

  With that he came inside of you, letting go of your hair, allowing your body to finally hit the mattress, but he kept holding your hips up as he pulled out of you, watching as part of his seed fell out of your hole before pushing it all back with his fingers, making your squirm at the overstimulated area. 

  “Keep it all inside pretty, once we get back to my frat I want to see it all still there if you have plans on going anywhere tomorrow.” You cried as he pulled his fingers away, cleaning them on your ass as he watched you clenched your used pussy, trying to keep all of his cum inside. “That’s my good girl,” he kissed your ass close to your cunt before turning to find all your clothes, quickly picking your panties and putting on your legs, before throwing you short shorts through the room, making you complain before eyeing you carefully. “You are mine, there’s no point in using that thing anymore, no one will get near what's mine and it will make it easier to see if you kept my cum inside of you or not without that piece of fabric you call shorts.”

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[jujutsukgojo]

The Baby Project

chapter two

izuku midoriya x reader

Summary:

U.A. decides that raising a fake baby is a good lesson for the future heroes and paired third year classes A and B with a general studies class. When you get stuck with a dead beat, Izuku Midoriya comes to save the day and your grade.

tw: Dead beat parents, sexual harassment (no details), idk if there's anything else?

The baby project is the worst thing to have happened at U.A. At least for you and the rest of your General Studies class that the ‘heroes’ decided to sacrifice for their favored course. 

  “Is this punishment?” 

  The teacher, Snipe, shakes his head. “No, no it’s not.” 

“You sure? Is it because of my last assignment?” Your previous assignment was honest and not popular. Snipe didn’t like what you had to say about heroes. The only thing you regret is that it was almost a hundred slides and you had to hold the class hostage in order to finish it. It was so bad that some of the other teachers had to save them. What were you supposed to do? You worked hard on your presentation and by God, somebody is going to learn from it. It was a solid assignment that you ended up passing, much to your amazement. 

   “It’s not punishment. You’re helping them. They’re about to be sent out there and need that last bit of guidance.” You scoff at your teacher. Are you even going to be graded for this since it is all for them? Then, a thought enters.

“This is because of Endeavor, right?” The room is filled with tension at your referral. What did they expect? It’s the truth. Because of the Todoroki Family’s fiasco, U.A. has decided to help prevent that from happening again in its own way: by giving robotic babies. Not to mention it is at your expense.

“ Toots!” Your friend, Ema, hisses. You just shrug and mouth ‘what?’.

“Yes.” Your eyebrows raise at Snipe’s honesty. “And why are we sacrificed? We’re younger than they are. Let the elderly go first. Just as nature intended.”

 Snipe rubs his face. “Why are you so-no, you’re not being sacrificed. It’s a new assignment that everyone’s doing. My class is just paired up with them.” 

“ Why?"  How are you the only one with questions? There is so much unfairness here!

  “Will you stop?” A girl with bright red hair and reptilian eyes frowns at you. What’s her name again? Sakura or something? “It’s happening, there’s no use fighting it.”

  You sigh and glare at her and your homeroom teacher. 

“Try to get excited. This is the first time U.A. is doing this and you get to set the standard! Think of names and schedules,” He goes from being behind his podium to sitting on the desk in front of it. 

“And time, and sleep, and food-” He interrupts you. “This is new technology, too! This little thing feels, looks, and acts like a real baby. It literally grows and responds as time goes on.”

  The boy with shiny silver hair and four eyes tilts his head. You think his name is Jule? That’s how you’ve always referred to him as and was never corrected. “How old do we have to raise it to be?” 

  Your debate is slowly turning into excitement about the project. A baby to hold and raise. That grows and you’ll be the first at U.A. to do it. You’ll have future pro heroes as the other parent. Not just any of them, the golden class. Class A and B, the ones who fought in wars and defeated the greatest evil. That year alone goes down in history. Your peers still stand in awe as they walk past them in the hallways as do a lot of the school. 

  “Depends on your achievements. The better parent you are, the bigger it gets. Hatsume is the one who made them. For all we know, you guys could raise teenagers,” He turns his head towards you. “And get a taste of your own medicine.”

  “I’d be an excellent parent. I’m just not sure about heroes.”

He points at you. “Keep playing. I dare you.” His threat earns a couple of chuckles in the class and even a smile that you try to fight. 

  Riko, a girl a few rows away from you, bounces in her seat. “Who do we get?” 

“See? Be like Riko.” He gestures to her but stares dead at you. He has always been the teacher that tries to be personal and familiar and use first names. It’s refreshing since you’re so used to using first names anyway.

“Why are you picking with me…” You whine.

  “Because you don’t listen.” You scoff when Ema hums in agreement. “Traitor.” You grumble. 

“Mr. Snipe! Who are we getting?” Riko asks again. You are not surprised to see all of these people be thrilled about it. You raise your hand. 

“ What.” Snipe taps his foot, already tired and the day just started. “Is this going to get in the way of school or is this project not during class hours?” 

  “I forgot about that…” Riko sinks into her seat. Other complaints echo off the walls. Small voices finally decide to ask the right questions. Repeating yours, about finances, hero schedules, are we allowed to go into each other's dorms (of course, that was by Riko). 

  “This is all up to you. Now, they’ll be coming here soon. We’ll draw names then.” 

“What does that mean? How is it up to us?”

   Benio turns to you and says, “He means if we raise it right, it won’t go off. Depending on how good of a parent you are, kind of thing.”

You slump in your seat with growing stress. It’s going to grow. You’re not being graded on how much it cries or something like you did in middle school. No, this is like reality. Because of the hero course, you’re going to be somebody’s baby mama. 

“I hope I get Deku…” Ema says to herself and sports a light blush. She’s always been an Izuku Midoriya fan for as long as you’ve known her, which hasn’t been for very long. After the big showdown, he only had embers of whatever the hell the quirk was. Over time, he trained those embers to make them stronger and to be his own. No ghost guidance or whatever and a bad history attached. He was no longer All Might Jr., but Deku. Considered a hero in his own right. Plus, that new suit he got made him a hit among those who liked Batman or other comics. 

   At least that’s how you took the explanation? You're probably forgetting something but if you ask Ema, she’d go on and on. There aren't enough hours in a day for that. 

“I want Todoroki!” Riko squeals and bounces up and down in her seat. You can’t help yourself. “Girl, that’s dangerous.”

  “Making fun of what he’s been through isn’t funny.” Benio, a normal high schooler who is firm in his convictions, rebukes. You turn to him and look into his gold eyes. 

  “I’m not. I’m simply saying that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Plus, it’s also the reason for this assignment, right Snipe?”

  Your teacher looks up at you. He’s trying to make it seem that it is to benefit both courses but it’s just not. Not when this whole thing is caused by Endeavor and Touya. Clearly, U.A. is doing this for them, not for General Studies. He even said so. There is nothing for you here other than to train the future pros to be better parents so there wouldn't be another League. 

“Yes. It is also a new program that we’re trying whether you like it or not. It benefits everyone.” Snipe ends short. "What about necessities? Food, money, diapers, all of that. Do we buy our own or do you provide?"

You hate how you have to ask these questions. "U.A. has its own formula, bottles, and diapers. Due to it being mechanical, there's no way normal things would work."

"Do we pay for them?" Snipe nods slowly. Before you can complain again, the door opens and the veteran hero, Eraserhead, enters the room with his students. The future pros stand in line. The majority of them have smiling faces for their juniors. Some are blank. Since the big showdown, they have all grown. Taller, wider, buffer, smarter, all of it. It’s insane to think they were little twerps before. 

  “Where’s Deku?” Ema asks as she looks at all of them. Her pure black eyes survey the future pros. “He’s away right now! He’s training with his new suit, so he’ll be gone for a bit. But you have me!” Kaminari or Calamari whatever the fuck it is, smirks at her. 

   “No thanks.” You snort at her look of disgust. Lips curled, brows furrowed and she’s leaning back like she saw vomit. 

“Ouch.”

Hatsume enters the large classroom with a wagon in tow. All of the babies are of different colors and sizes. Some are very petite and others have rolls. They look like your average baby doll.

“Now class, listen up. We’ll draw names and to fit two parents together then you’ll get an assigned baby. We’ll provide birth certificates and activate the kid.”

  There is a feeling in your gut that this will not go well. You don’t mean to put it in the atmosphere at all. Since you’re stuck with this dumb thing, you hope you are wrong.

“Benio with Yaoyorozu.” You hear a curse under someone’s breath. He gets up and walks to your teacher for his baby. Benio and Yaoyorozu receive a normal sized baby. Benio quickly supports the head. In Yaoyorozu’s hand is the certificate wanting a name for it and their parent’s signature. 

  The door opens again and a hero course student from Class B walks in. If you remember right, he’s the drill guy. Someone who can turn his body really fast or something. He scratches his head and gives a short wave to the class. “Ah, there weren't enough students from the other General Studies.”

  “Alright, you and (Y/n).” You get up and go to the front to get your project. Mei hands it to you, not the future hero, and gives you the paper as well. You support the chubby baby’s head. Like your average doll, it has plastic skin and blank open eyes. You go back to your seat and wait for him. He stands there awkwardly. “Um, come with me.” 

“Why?” There are enough chairs for him, you note as you look around. Benio’s desk is empty. Snipe sighs. “(Y/n), go with him.”

“Why? This classroom is huge. He can sit down.” 

  “( Y/n), go.” Snipe points to the door. Slowly, you get up and head for the door, glaring at your teacher. You follow the drill guy closely. He opens the Class B room. You sit down and wait for him to follow you. Now that he’s next to you, he introduces himself. 

“I’m Sen Kaibara. Your name’s (Y/n)?” He has a small smile on his face. His eyes study you closely. You nod at his question. “Let’s get down to it.” You open the baby’s diaper and see that it’s a boy. “It’s a bouncing baby boy.” There are faint red spots on his legs. They aren’t bumps or anything. Maybe the diaper is too tight. You quickly close it before he pees on you. 

“Okay, what should we name him?” You have a few in mind. However, he also has a say in them and he probably won’t like them. Everything’s fine as long as the little boy has a name you can say and spell. Sen taps his chin and his eyes dart around. He snaps his fingers and asks, “How about my name?”

“No. And nothing I can’t pronounce, either.” He scoffs. “You’re not giving me a chance.” 

 “Neither are you. Something that we can both write and pronounce.” That’s it. In the end, that’s what you want. And for him not to be a junior. 

   The two of you decided on Noa, much to his annoyance. Clearly, you don’t get along. Not when it’s like this. All you asked was a simple thing. Yes, you can say Sen. But it doesn’t fit the baby. Yes, he can have a say so in the name. You only wanted a name you can spell and pronounce that doesn’t involve ‘junior’. It’s a name that both of you agreed with and is simple. 

   To you, it wasn’t difficult or a lot to ask for. To him, he’s red in the face as he turns it in. It was a simple disagreement. Why is he frowning so much? Snipe looks it over. “Ah, Noa? Nice name.” 

  Noa begins to get fussy. You look him over to see what’s wrong. You gasp at your discovery. His face changed from a baby doll look to one of an actual baby. His face is a mixture of yours and Kaibara’s. Honestly, mainly yours. Your eyes and mouth, especially. His plastic skin becomes soft like it's real and his weight now settles in. He looks and feels real.

   “That’s normal. Everything changes in time.” 

-------------

  

Unfortunately, things do change. Right as you adjust Noa so you are able to write, he freaks. Everyone’s head turns to you. Ema, God bless her, soothes you as you try to do the same to Noa. It’s crazy, you’ve baby sat before and aren’t bad with kids or babies. Yet with Noa you’re all thumbs. 

  “Bounce him gently. Do you have a bo-bo?” You snap your head. “A what?”

You can barely hear her over Noa's shrill cry. He shakes as he continues to wail. She shifts awkwardly. “A binky. A pacifier. It’s what we’ve always called it.”

  “I’m really irritated right now so usually I’d like, stab you or something but that’s cute.”

  Ema holds in a laugh. “Thank you for your generosity.” Mr. Snipe calls your name. “I know, I know! He won’t calm down.” 

  He sighs. “The bag we gave you has some supplies in it. The school’s formula, a bottle, a set of diapers, pamphlet all of that. Try different things,” He addresses the class. “Learn from this everyone. Plus, the items in the bag are samples. You’re going to have to do what you can by yourself.”

  You set the diaper bag between your knees and unzip it. Inside are the supplies Snipe mentioned. His screams get louder. Suddenly, another baby follows suit, awoken by Noa. Jule immediately glares at you. You mutter several apologies and fumble the silver formula packet which is surprisingly in a liquid form. 

  Your fingers shake whether from stress or the bouncing you're doing with your whole body, totally dedicated to the rhythm. You pour the contents in the red and white bottle to shake it. Putting it in his mouth, he refuses to suckle. 

“W-what?” You look at Snipe confused. He taps his foot and crosses his arms. Jule’s baby is quiet now, abruptly stops by your amazement. “How?” Jule shows you the bottle. “She’s hungry. Is Noa not-” 

“Let her deal with it.” Snipe sighs. Riko frowns. “Doesn’t it take a village to raise a child?”

  “Not for this project, no.” She sits up straighter. “Don’t you think you should be more patient? This was bound to happen.”

  “You,” He points to you. “Outside so we can continue class.” 

“Fucking asshole.”

“Watch it.”

You struggle to stand up without dropping him or anything else. Ema, bless her once more Lord, comes in and helps you with your things. You make haste to exit the classroom that is growing increasingly annoyed. 

  You try to feed him once again and when that doesn’t work, you set him on the ground to check his diaper. The redness is still there but he is dry. Throwing your hands in the air, you give up and head to Kaibara’s class. You don’t even bother to knock since literally everyone can hear you coming a mile away. 

   “Kaibara?” The class looks at you with their hero uniforms on. “Can you try? Nothing I’m doing is working.”

“I’m busy. I’ll visit later, okay? Try putting on a movie or singing to him or something. I gotta go.” He leaves you standing in the middle of his classroom.

“In the middle of school? Put on a movie in the middle of class?” You scoff and move in front of him, preventing him from walking away. Some of his classmates look at the two of you. You notice that not a single one of them have their babies. Their teacher, Dracula or something, pauses his speech and eyes you. “Kaibara, handle this as a father would. Alright class, let’s go.”

 “Kaibara-” He cuts you off with a short response. “Not now.” He rushes past you to join and laugh with his friends as Noa continues to cry. Dracula pats your shoulder and apologizes. 

______________

You decide to rock him rather than bounce. Soon after, he begins to quiet down, making you want to scream in his place. The bottle in your hand beeps. You look at it and see the word ‘spoiled’ on it with Hatsume’s face on it with a peace sign. 

  Still rocking him, you set your bag down on the ground to get a better look inside it to see how much you have. “No…” That was the only formula packet. Sighing, you pick it up and carefully rise up, with your knees cracking every inch. You head to the support course and walk inside. Power Loader is about to scold you for not knocking but stops himself immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“I need more formula, please.” Hatsume pops up out of nowhere. If you had the energy, you’d punch her for everything she’s ever done to you. 

  “Let me see, let me see!” She moves your arm enough to look at him. “Ah, he hasn’t grown; tsk, tsk.” You literally just got him. Like, a couple of hours ago.

 “Give me the formula.” 

  She sighs and shows you a set of packets and tells you the price. Your jaw drops. “You can’t be serious.” 

  “Yep, yep! Hand it over.” Regular formula is half the price and she’s handing you six packets. One per bottle. “Is one packet for one bottle?”

“Preferably. If you water it down then the baby isn’t getting the nutrients. Don’t try to skimp on my baby, little baby!” 

The door behind you opens and shuts. Benio comes to your side. “She keeps throwing up, is your formula faulty?”

  Hatsume twitches. “ No! These are based on real babies and not every baby can have the same formula.”

  She, again out of nowhere, brings out a pink pouch. “Specialized!” You’re about to have a heart attack when she tells him how much his is. It’s even more than yours. “Fine. I’ll take four cases.”

Ah, that’s right. His parents make a lot of money, and his stipend is more than yours. Because you are a scholarship kid, your amount is lower. No one has told you by how much, though. 

Embarrassed, you put up two fingers. She hands them to you and is gracious enough to place them in the diaper bag. Your eyes are downcast. 

  “Everything’ll be okay.” Hatsume says. You don’t ask what the money is for even though you are curious.

While you're here, you speak up to Noa's demonic creator. Ever since you got him, his groin has been red and irritated. You want to smack yourself when you finally piece together that he has a rash.

"Is there something wrong with the diapers? He's terribly red ever since it was put on him." You hand him over to her and she places him on a clear spot on her desk. "Ah, he's allergic! Good thing I have something for tha-"

"Special diapers?"

She puts her hands on her hips. "Why didn't you let me finish?"

"Let me buy them, please." You see the box of diapers in her hand. Already your stomach is in knots. Strangely, she looks into your eyes without a smile. No expression on her face. It looks like she's focused on you. "Are you okay?"

You nod and hum. It doesn't feel right to let this bother you.

 "Here's some samples. Let me know if they work, okay?" She hands you three blue diapers. Unlike the regular ones that have the U.A. design on them, this one is pure blue with the U.A. emblem on the top. You don't realize it until you quickly change Noa and see the redness start to fade. Your eyes are watery. Not to the point of tears rolling out but close enough that Mei cared.

You clear your throat. "I'll um, let you know. If they work, I'll buy some more."

___________________________

Sitting at your usual lunch table with Ema, Benio, and Riko, you struggle to eat your lunch one handed. The other is occupied with holding Noa. Luckily, he is peacefully sleeping.

“You should really get a carrier or a wrap. It’ll be much easier.” Ema, who got Kirishima, eats her piece of chicken. New voices are loud enough to gain your table’s attention. 

“Mm! Gotta go. We promised we’d sit together for the sake of our daughter.” She gets up and leaves you in awe of her communication skills. “I wish that were me. I can’t Yaoyorozu to sit still.”

“I don’t even want to.” Riko says. You forgot who she got but her forlorn face clearly says it’s not Todoroki. 

“Not many of them even carry their kids. Like, Kirishima is the first I’ve seen.” You point to him sitting next to Ema. She didn’t get Midoriya like she wanted. Nevertheless, she got one of the better ones out of the bunch. In fact, he’s bragging about her. Showing everyone his daughter like a real proud father. 

   “Damn it…” You mutter. Searching around the cafeteria, you say, “I can’t even see Kaibara. Maybe we should exchange numbers. I have to tell him that Noa can't have the regular diapers.”

“You don't have his number?” You shake your head no. Riko frowns and rocks her carrier. “(Y/n)! That's, like, the first thing you should do.”

“I know, I know. He ignores me, though! Today I couldn’t console Noa. So, I went to him for help and he totally blew me off. He didn’t even look at him. Like Benio over here, I cannot get this guy to sit still.”

“Try again. If I can get her to cough it up, you can too.” He finishes his plate fast. Benio rhythmically taps his foot. His eyes focus on the table, clearly pissed off. You want to reach out and tell him it’ll be okay. That she’ll come around and you are in this together. Right now, he’s at the stage where he’ll snap at anyone and you prefer to live.

“You guys are so lucky. I got stuck with a creep.” That can only be one person. You gasp. “That grape dude? He’s still alive?” You didn’t even see him in class. It was probably the Lord doing that.

“Yep,” She pops her ‘p’. She pushes her broccoli around. Riko tenses up and her bottom lip sticks out slightly. “All I get are innuendos. I want to meet up? He’ll flirt and suggest another child. I don’t feel safe at all.” She mumbles. Your protective instincts start to flare up. It’s not normal for you to feel this way, either. How could he do this? Yes, she’s smart and pretty. But that doesn’t mean jack crap. Being disgusting towards her is wrong. Where are his morals? She isn't interested. She said no!

   “If you want to have supervised visits, I’ll be happy to be there. Make it into a play date sort of thing.” It isn't much to offer but at least it's out there. Her lips wobble as she smiles at you. “I would like that, please.”

“Has it gotten that bad already? The project just started.” Benio rubs her back. “Yeah, already. He keeps blowing up my phone. I got in trouble for it in class, remember?” Yeah. English class was a sight when her phone vibrated so much it shook off the desk. The teacher's vein nearly popped due to the interruptions. 

   “Let me see.” Benio grabs her phone and checks. With every scroll his eyes get wider. “The fuck? We have to tell the teachers.”

“They’ll just say, ‘it’s like real life’.” She mimics their voice. You hold out your hand to reach her. Whatever is on that phone, has made Benio even madder. Steam practically comes out of his ears. “Yeah, but this is sexual harassment. Something that is punishable.” 

  “Will you go with me?” You and Benio don’t need to be told twice. You spot Kaibara with the red headed big hand girl. You get up and go to him. “I’ll be right back. When I get back, we’ll go directly to Snipe.”

  You make your way to him. He laughs and snickers with her, neither one having their baby in hand. “Yo, Kaibara.” 

  He stops and turns to you. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy right now. I’ve worked hard, I’d like to eat.” You tap your foot and suck your lips in before you speak. “The only thing I see is you jaw jacking and not a single bit of food got in your mouth. All I’m asking for is a minute. I need to talk to you about our baby.”

"Fake baby."

The red head inhales her food. “Mm! That reminds me, I have to go find her. I promised I’d watch the baby.” 

“Watch? That’s your kid. You’re not babysitting, you're supposed to be raising.” 

   She freezes and you turn to Kaibara. “Come on.”

“After that? You broke her.” He grabs her hand and leads her to the rest of Class B. “At least take my number so we can communicate!” 

 “Later!” He meets up with his friends and Red looks back at me with a guilty look. She lets go of his hand and goes somewhere else. 

  “Come on, let’s go to Snipe.” You guide Riko up from the table. “What’re you going to him for?” Kaibara miraculously is able to hear you, apparently. He pokes his head up above his friends’ shoulders to peer at you. He goes behind one of them and asks again. 

“None of your business,” You snap. Your thumb rubs Riko's hand in an attempt to comfort her. “Come on.” Riko gets up and packs her things while Benio throws everything away. Sen calls out to you again, wondering why you’re going to Snipe. “Later!” You yell.

He really should’ve given his number.

---------------

You stand in the hallway with Benio. Both of your backs are leaning against the wall. You hear Riko’s muffled voice as well as Eraserhead and Snipe. The three of you called them together and showed them the messages. Benio didn’t see them all and you didn’t see a thing, which is probably for the best. Noa is still sleeping soundly in your arms. His chubby cheek is nestled close to your chest. You shift your weight on your feet and look at Benio from the corner of your eye.

“Do you think they’re giving him an excuse?” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t start that shit.” Benio snaps. You whip your head towards him. “I’m worried about her, you little bitch. No need to get snappy.”

“I’m worried too. Skank.” 

“Pfft!” You snort. For the first time during lunch period, he cracks a small smile. The door opens and you quickly straighten up. Riko comes out first. “Let’s go, you guys.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, we’re excused.” You nod and walk with her, Benio and the babies in tow. “What’s going to happen? Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be alright.” 

-------

  Your arms are becoming numb as you hold Noa. You still don’t have a carrier or the money to afford one. Looking around, everyone is more prepared than you or is just overall better. During lunch, a bunch of them rushed out to buy baby things. Smart bastards.

  Noa is squirming more than ever. He isn't crying (yet) but he looks uncomfortable. Maybe it’s gas? You have to document that on your project's papers. Snipe said to write down all the progress, costs, and at the end there will be a written assignment on all of the notes. It's a weird project and clearly an emotional one. 

“Sen? Sen?” You go yelling through the hallways of his dorm. Tetsutetsu gets up and goes to you with his baby in his arms. “What’s wrong? I can help.”

“Where is Kaibara?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe his room? Is everything okay?” You shake your head no. “No, nothing’s okay. He’s avoiding me and the baby. I need to talk to him.”

  Tetsutetsu clenches his fist. “Bet. Follow me.” He goes through the halls demanding to know where he is. Tetsutetsu barges into Kaibara’s room, the door swinging open so hard it now squeaks. He begins to yell, “ Take responsibility!”

 “Tetsu, what the hell?” Kaibara shoots up and closes his manga. “You? What’d you do, go to Snipe and have Tetsu on my ass?”

  “No, he did that on his own. We need to discuss the baby. Noa needs things and there are times when your schedule works better than mine. There’s so much we need to talk about.” Although a part of you wants to defend yourself for going to Snipe, it isn’t fair to Riko.

  “I got this, Tetsu.” Kaibara looks into Tetsutetsu’s eyes. “You better. You and the others are giving us a bad name.” 

  He leaves and gives you a nod. You shut the door behind him and hand the baby to Kaibara. “Kaibara, meet Noa. Noa, meet your dad.”

  “That’s not funny. And it is not right to embarrass me like that!” He holds Noa awkwardly and gives him a weird look, as if he's disgusted or freaked out.

“That’s what you’re worried about? We have a whole child right there-”

“He isn’t real!” He yells, surprisingly, not waking Noa up. Your anger begins to grow. “The costs are real! The necessities are real! The grade is definitely real!”

  “Is that what you want? Money?” How the fuck is that what he caught.

“Money? No. I want you to help. I can’t do everything on my own and worry about school. Let’s work on a schedule. Let’s get baby supplies. Communication is amazing, why not do it?”

   He brushes past you roughly, pushing you back a little. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you walk to a baby store, passing the many confused and worried expressions. He dips his head into his hoodie. “I should’ve hid my fucking face or something.”

You roll your eyes. “Did it occur to you that they’re staring at us because we’re two teens with a baby?” He scoffs, throwing the door open and doesn’t hold it for you.

 “Jerk.”

Inside, are rows of colorful clothes. Some are hero merchandise and others have cartoons. After the various clothing for all ages are bottles, diapers, binkies, and the like. In the back is the gold mine for children: lots and lots of toys. 

   “What about this?” You hold up a dinosaur shirt. He rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Can you hold him now?”

  This is the first time today you don’t have him and you're still taking care of him while your partner is right there. “No. It’s your quality time.”

  You put the dinosaur shirt in the cart. Suddenly, Noa screams bloody murder. You turn to Kaibara who’s freaking out. “What the fuck? He just started-”

“Is everything okay?” An employee comes up. Kaibara quickly gives him to you and says, “I gotta go.”

   “At least leave some cash!” He turns around and stomps to you. 

“Fucking knew it. Here.” He hands you twenty bucks. As he slams the door open and shut, he hides his face. You bounce Noa. “Is there a bathroom or something?”

“Yeah, come with me. Leave the cart.” 

In the bathroom, you lower the table. “I fed you, you took a nap, I changed you-”

She looks at his face. "Babies can sense things too, you know?"

You look up at the woman and ask what she meant. "Children can tell how a person is inside." She nudges her head to point out the door. "And that was clear as the sky today."

“Thank you for your help.” It took twenty minutes for him to calm down and thirty for you. The woman behind the counter is a God send. She’s helped you out more than Kaibara has, and you’ve only known her for a short amount of time. You called Snipe to let him know where you were, and he yelled at you for being late. Whatever. It’s his dumb assignment. 

   You put the supplies on the counter, fearing the cost. You grabbed a very cheap wrap, not yet being able to afford a proper carrier. You have his money, and the rest of yours. 

  She looks at you and looks at what’s on the counter. “This isn’t nearly enough. You got some of the essentials. Everything else is missing.”

   “I know, I know. I didn't have time to plan or anything. This was sprung on us today, remember?" You wished you had time to at least finance.

She tells you the total. What he gave you doesn’t cover anything but a few shirts and a bo-bo . You buy everything else with nothing left in your account until payday. 

-----------

As you go home, Noa decides that it's time to rest again. His soft pudgy face is peaceful and his breathing is steady. “I’m sorry about today. And that you still don’t have a bed…” You set him on your bed comfortably. Afterwards, you put everything away in the few drawers you have.

You are in awe of how little he is. Chubby but overall small. It’s ridiculous how much you spent on a fake baby though, no matter how cute. This entire thing is unorthodox even by U.A. standards. Students paying for things with their own money is just too much. How did they expect this to happen? Where is the money going to? 

It’s not a complete loss, anyway. Things can be recycled, donated, or sold at the end. You rub your face and look around at the lack of things he has. No bed, dresser, playpen, and the only toys he has are the stuffed animals that were on your bed. And he’s too young to be playing with them anyway. 

Even though he isn't real, he's not, this is still getting to you. It's way too familiar. You smack your cheeks. He's an assignment, a project, a doll. That's right, a doll. To the side is your white laundry basket. You grab it and put a spare pillow in it, just like you would with your baby dolls when you were a child. “Alright, let’s see if this works.”

   Nope, no it doesn’t. You groan and apologize to Noa, who still does not have a bed. That alone bothers you. He looks up at you for a moment then closes his eyes again. He gives a quick smile revealing two dimples on his chubby cheeks. You give him a little kiss. 

You gasp. You only had him for a day and you've become attached. Not to a serious degree but enough to warrant a kiss. Maybe it’s because of his likeness to being real. He actually looks like he’d be yours. He feels like a baby. The whole thing is confusing you and you think it’s popping your ovaries or something.

You suddenly feel heavy. Today has been nothing but draining. If you can get a few minutes in, just a few. You need to do the responsible thing and take your meds if you’re going to nap. The bottle is too far. The side of the bed your upper body is leaning on is so comfortable. Eyelids heavy, a yawn, and the day that has been so tiring. You just need a few minutes…

   There’s a knock on the door. You perk up and check on Noa, who is still asleep. You wipe your drool from your face and arm. Your knees crack in pain from sleeping on them. “I’m old, so, so old.”

  “Hello?” You say as you open the door. Ema bounces and excitedly tells you, “Deku’s on the phone!”

“Bitch, did you really wake me up for that?” It’s the audacity. The sheer amount of stupid is astounding. 

“Fucker. Anyway, come on! He’s face timing my baby daddy right now.”

  “Hold on, let me get Noa.” You grab your bag that has a pink dress uniform in it and then snatch his diaper bag off of your chair. Right as you're about to leave your room, your eyes find the long mirror. The dry erase marker is fading and needs to be redone, and you must put more reminders on it, too. 

  Your eyes stay there too long. You can feel yourself about to drift away in the color of a light purple and dark blue, swirling around each other with twinkling stars. The smell of lavender starts to push through the scent of the blown out candle in your room. A moon is peering out of the colors, soon to move and send you into another dream. 

  Suddenly, Ema yells your name. It comes into your head like an echo, something distant and not seen. You begin to come out of it when Noa starts to cry. You blink and wipe your eyes. Noa immediately stops crying. “Thanks, bud.”

Downstairs, Kirishima holds his phone out and talks. “We miss you! When are you coming back?” 

   “In a few weeks, I think? Maybe a month. I’m not sure but I'm making tons of progress! I'm starting to feel more secure in my suit."

You enter the commons and spot the spiky redhead talking animatedly to the green on the screen. "It's a cool suit! I like how it looks a lot like your usual-here she is. Her name's (Y/n). (Y/n), meet Izuku Midoriya."

  Your face then takes up the screen. Round green eyes meet yours. He doesn’t say anything at first, he just stares. Finally, he stutters as he introduces himself. Anytime he’s brought up, you’ve been shown this freckled baby face. Now, you’re looking at someone who’s gaining mature definition. His cheeks are a little slimmer and his scar adds a rugged look. His curls are no longer all over his head but are now neatly trimmed. All in all, he is not bad to look at. He’s surprisingly easy on the eyes. 

  “Okay.” Ema elbows you and tells you to be nice. “What? Why am I here?” You whisper back. You feel Midoriya’s eyes on you as you talk. 

“So you won’t be here for a while?” Kirishima sounds sad that his friend is still gone. “I’ll be there soon!”

“You just said-”

“No, no, no. I’ll be there!” He moves his phone in a way that covers the lower half of his face that is growing pink. 

Why are his eyes so round? He looks scared.

Ema chuckles under her breath and smiles at you. You look at the time and jump. “Shit! It’s been nice talking to you, but I’ve got to go.”

  “Alright, see you-”

“It was nice meeting you!” You stop and turn back to look at the green haired guy on the phone. He scratches his head and gives a close eyed smile. Kirishima tells him to calm down. Ema shakes her head slightly. The bright shine in her eyes is dimmed as they go to the floor. A small smile appears on her lips. “Oh, dear. Deku is something else.”

 You bid them goodbye and run to find him. Noa stays calm as you cradle him gently. Finally, you see him as you push past the doors of his dorm. Kaibara is in the Class B commons sitting with his phone in his hand and his bare feet propped up on the coffee table. Many of his class stand around and talk or do homework. You take a deep breath before you say anything, like ‘you’re not helping you dumbass maggot.’ or ‘eat the dust that Shigaraki himself made’. You want to be civil for now.

 “Kaibara, I need you for tonight.” And during the day too, preferably. He straightens up in his seat. Immediately, he frowns.  “What? In the morning-”

“Is your home room. Stop. I need you to watch him in the evenings after school.”

“Until when?” He harshly whispers, looking around at his friends, hoping they don’t see or hear this too much.

“Around seven or eight? I’ll call to let you know.” You take off the diaper bag. “Here you go. By the way, he wears special diapers that Hatsume makes so you'll need to go get some more. He's terribly allergic to the regular ones she makes.”

  “I-I can’t-” He stutters. Right now, he doesn’t look too much like a hero, just some punk ass teen in an Eeyore sweater whose mom just told him to watch his brother for an hour.

You hold up your hand. “You can, and you will. This is your son, right? Someone you wanted as a junior?” You hand him Noa, who is awake. “I’ll see you later, pumpkin.” You give Noa's cheek a poke.

  Kaibara is silent. Completely silent.

------------

“Benio? What’re doing?” You ask just as you’re about to head out of the U.A. gates. You didn't expect to run into him this time of day. He’s stomping with his kid in his arms. Last you saw her, she was wearing a basic outfit to go out. A purple onesie with a cheesey graphic design and some pants. Now she's in lavish clothing that you know he didn't give her. They look expensive and well put together. It's something an Instagram mom would make her kids wear; nothing like a child would be sporting if they had a normal parent. “She’s the fucking worst, I swear to God.”

“Who?”  He can’t possibly be talking about his baby. He likes the kid too much, even though he’ll deny it. The way he looks at her and can't stop cooing is too telling. He's taken gobs of pictures already and the project just started.

   “That bitch, Yaomomo. Or whatever the fuck people call her,” He growls. A pebble flies away by his kick. “You were right. I give up.” 

Your opinions can be controversial, especially in a hero loving society. So, him admitting that is pretty huge. Although you want to gloat, you can’t help but feel bad for him and his descent to anger and hate all caused by a stupid future pro.

[kazekagevi]

Bonds Beyond Words: If Eywa Wills It

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

Pairing: Aged-Up!Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: dark themes, mention of suicide attempt, eventual NSFW, aged-up! Neteyam, reader has PTSD, Neteyam dislikes humans (except for you), eventual jealous/possessive Neteyam, future Olo'eyktan! Neteyam, Jake Sully appearance, random Human!OC's, interspecies slow burn, angst, fluff, probably OOC, POV’s all over the place, forgive the inconsistencies. 

Summary: You settle into your new home at High Camp. You have a conversation with the Olo'eyktan, Jake Sully.

A/N and Disclaimer: If anyone would like to be notified/tagged in future updates, please comment on this post! Forgive any present tense inconsistencies.

This story contains explicit content and is only appropriate for audiences 18+. MDNI. Please do not repost my work. 

Your adrenaline plummets. You rest for hours without interruption. 

The room Max has put you up in is nice, but you know it’s too spacious to be permanent. You lie comfortably on a lumpy couch. Sometimes the dim lights flicker, there’s a constant mechanical hum, and the blankets are scratchy, but you nap peacefully for the first time since cryosleep. It’s homely. You need this moment of respite. 

Hours later, you wake to the smell of something fragrant cooking. You’re so hungry that you feel nauseous. 

As badly as you want to leap from the couch and venture into the kitchen, you lie still. You continue to cherish this time to yourself—you’re unsure when you’ll get such an opportunity again. 

You let the events of the past week wash over you like a tidal wave. Tears come and go, just like mental flashes of the faces of the many women and allied wardens long gone. As demoralizing and dehumanizing the experience was, you became a tight-knit family because of it. Your pain is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before—as much as you miss them, you know they’re better off dead than being torn apart and transformed into the RDA’s breeding machines. It leaves a tart feeling in your mouth: it’s upsettingly bittersweet. 

Wading through the water of your thoughts and emotions is treacherous. If you swim too long, you know you’ll drown. 

You push away the blankets, then fold them neatly. You swipe beneath your tear ducts. After standing by the door for ten minutes, you gain the courage to place your palm over the entryway censor. You make it two steps out before you’re stopped. 

You’re startled by a woman’s whistle—it’s reminiscent of a catcall. She leans against a doorframe with a toothpick between her canines. She’s human. She’s stocky and muscular. The woman wears a navy-blue jumpsuit and combat boots. You can tell her hair was once jet black, but it’s starting to grow in gray. “Welcome, new girl,” she says.

“Hi,” you reply sheepishly. You introduce yourself—first name only. 

She does the same: “I’m Mia.” 

You shake hands—you note that her palms are very calloused. Mia must be involved with hands-on labor. 

“Listen, I don’t like to beat around the bush,” says Mia. She leans in closer, like she has a secret to tell you. “You need to shower,” she confesses, this time much quieter. There isn’t a lick of malice in her tone. “Like, immediately.” 

You appreciate her honesty, but your cheeks flush. Mia pulls a chuckle from your chest. “I know,” you reply feebly. 

And so, Mia takes this moment as an opportunity to give you a proper tour of the human’s facility at High Camp. You’re going to be living there, after all. 

Admittedly, there isn’t much to see. Together, you stroll through the science shacks and a few vacant laboratories. You meet a few more scientists. You return to the two flex rooms, like the one you napped in; Mia shows you the barracks and bunk beds, the link units, and the kitchenette. Norm is cooking what he describes to be his very own fusion recipe: a soup that combines both human and Pandoran ingredients. In passing, you apologize to Norm for spitting on him, again—you’ve already apologized four times, but once more couldn’t hurt. He makes it abundantly clear that everything is well between you both. 

“I would do the same if they captured me,” Norm confesses. “Much worse, in fact.” 

Your tour ends at the showers. Mia leaves briefly, then returns with a towel, a new bar of soap, a plastic hairbrush, a few garments of clothing, and a toothbrush and paste. “This is all we have right now,” Mia explains. 

It’s more than enough, you think. 

Tears well in your eyes at the sight of these items; although necessary for most humans, to you, these things feel like a luxury. 

“There’s hot and cold water knobs. The hot water alone won’t last long. Try to maneuver the knobs to use hot and cold at the same time,” she says with a short demonstration. Warm water spits out of the shower head onto the tiled wall in front of it. You hold out your palm—it’s bliss. 

You’re solaced. You thank Mia one last time. She takes her cue to leave and gives you some privacy. 

---

Despite the lukewarm water diminishing to icy-cold after only a few minutes, you spend a long time in the shower. You wash your hair. You scrub everything, at least twice. Your pruned fingertips feel foreign angst the metal knob—you haven’t been allowed a long enough shower since your past life on Earth. 

The clothes Mia left for you don’t fit quite right. The pants drag on the floor and aren’t secure around the waist; you take a step, and your trousers pool at your knees. You have no choice but to create a makeshift belt with spare twine and an aptly-sized piece of elastic from Mia’s sewing kit. As you weave the components together, you realize her sewing kit doubles as her first-aid box. She must use the same thread to stitch seams on fabric and cuts on skin. You take this opportunity to gently reapply scar ointment and new dressing to the stitched slash beneath your collarbone. 

The tanktop she gave you, on the other hand, was made for someone with slightly smaller anatomy. In comparison to the pants, it fits skin-tight snug. Luckily, the undergarments are trouble-free. 

When you re-enter the common area, everyone is there. It’s down-to-Earth, you note—the thought makes your lips curl into a smile.

You spend a few moments observing. Most of the scientists look like regular people. They’re plain. Modest, simple. There’s nothing particularly special about any of them, barring their bright smiles. People involved with the RDA don’t smile like that. 

It isn’t long before the “plain scientist” exception enters via the airlock entrance. 

At first, you think he’s naked. You instinctively cover your eyes with your palms to give the guy some privacy. You faintly hear him yell something out the door through the glass—you can’t discern any of it, so it must be in Na’vi. You peek through your fingertips. 

Once the front airlock closes, the human male removes his oxygen mask, hangs it on a hook by the entrance, and presses his hand to the entryway scanner. He strolls in casually, like he owns the place. The young man wears nothing but a loincloth and carries an old leather satchel. Painted, blue streaks mark his body in horizontal stripes. 

It clicks for you quickly—he sees himself as one of them. He wears his loyalty to the Na’vi. It’s… admirable. 

When he speaks again, he greets Max in English and makes an inside joke with Norm that flies over your head. He chucks his bag onto a nearby stool and smoothes his hands over his ash-blonde dreads. 

Inevitably, you’re curious to know more. Your thoughts buzz with questions—instinctively, you’d like to interview him. 

“Food’s ready!” Norm calls. 

That’ll have to wait. 

The room descends to orderly chaos. A scientist you’ve already forgotten the name of is gathering silverware. Another gives everyone a bowl or mug. Metal chairs scrape across the floor as people line up in front of the kitchenette. Mia is adamant about having her mug, which is bright pink with a broken handle. Norm serves stew with a metal ladle. Someone else passes out dethawed bread rolls from the walk-in freezer. 

They make jokes in passing. They ask each other questions. Occasionally, they bicker, like when one of the scientists scolds Norm for giving him too big a portion. They’re a family. It’s lovely, you think. 

Then Mia calls your name. “Please,” she says, “join us!”

The room quiets down. You briefly make eye contact with the semi-nude young male. He’s around your age—maybe a year or two younger. 

Entering the common area takes only a sliver of bravery in comparison to the courage you had to collect in order to survive thus far; it’s still scary, nonetheless. You gulp. 

You’re provided a bowl. Norm serves you a heaping portion of soup. Max pours you a glass of water from a large pitcher at the end of the table. You’re offered two dinner rolls—just this once, Mia says. People move their chairs to make room for you. Your heart swells. 

“This is-” Mia begins. 

Your interruption is far from rude—you introduce yourself instead. First and last name. 

---

Dinner runs its course. It began with juvenile questions; the community simply wanted to know more about you as a person. They never banked on someone taking one of the empty bunks. They were all being used as precious storage. What’s your name? Where did you come from?

The spotlight is uncomfortable—blinding, even—but you squint through it. You want to interview these people, but it’s your turn instead. 

When some of the scientists begin asking about the RDA, however, the group rears towards an unsettling interrogation. What was it like? they ask. How many were there? Could you spare any details on the escape plan?

With every intrusive question, you intake another mouthful of the fusion stew. It tastes funny, like a bad pun or cringey joke; but you’re too hungry to care. 

“Did you ever see the General?” The human male whom you now know as Spider asks. “She was short. Blonde lady, resting bitch-face. General Ardmore?” 

Mia snorts. Norm clasps his hands together. “Alright, everyone. I think that’s enough,” he states. "Let's not overwhelm the newcomer."

The scientists look at each other, humbled and slightly ashamed. They give you apologetic stares and quiet redresses. 

Max offers to do the dishes. He knows he’ll regret this act of selflessness, but he does it for you. The rest of the scientists leave their empty bowls at the table and retreat to the barracks. Mia pats your shoulder before exiting with the others. 

You turn to Norm once everyone’s left. You hold out your bowl. “Can I have some more?”

---

You’re on your third helping of soup and fourth glass of water when there’s a series of raps at the door outside the airlock. For a split second, you’re back in your cell. You’re reminded of your least favorite warden’s early-morning roll calls. 

You flinch—your body instinctively jerks. But you don’t realize this until you’re swiftly saving your water glass from falling off the table. You rub your brow with the back of your head; you can’t break two things on your first day. 

“Is it him?” Max asks Norm. Max is elbows deep in soap suds and dirty dishes. He starts scrubbing faster. 

“Think so,” Norm replies. 

Who’s him? You’re left to wonder as you scrape the bottom of your soup bowl and take your final bite; there’s no more stew left. 

Norm stands from the table and strides over to the airlock. “Come in!”

You nearly twist your neck trying to turn around before the door opens. 

A tall, blue humanoid enters. He has to crouch when breaching the threshold—the door frame is just too short. It’s the first Na’vi you’ve seen since your interaction with the Na’vi in the forest; spare for Grace, the one in a glass tube full of liquid in the common area. 

For a moment, you think this Na’vi is the one who saved you. But as they grab a respirator mask and enter once the airlock is closed, your assumption is proved to be false. 

The Na’vi nods to Norm. “Good to see ya, Max,” the male Na’vi says, peering into the kitchen. Notably, his English is fluent; but above that, his accent is strangely commonplace among humans. Nothing like the Na’vi from the forest. 

Max peers at him over his shoulder. “You too, Jake,” Max calls back. 

Your eye twitches. You face forward. Your visage pales. 

“Let’s talk about all of this for a moment,” Norm tells Jake Sully. He agrees. Their footsteps get quieter as they walk away from the common room and round the corner. Max dries his hands with a dish towel and follows them. 

You hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation while you chug another glass of water. 

“You’re sure?” Jake Sully asks. “Completely positive?”

“There’s no way,” one of the humans responds. “When she thought she’d been recaptured by the RDA, she tried to slit her wrists. A spy wouldn’t do that.”

Someone adds something to that point, but it’s indiscernible. 

“You’re right,” replies Jake. 

There are footsteps again. You keep your head forward. 

Max clears his throat. “You have a visitor,” Norm says. 

You push away the empty glass and bowl, then rise from your seat at the table. Your eyes meet pale yellow—the same shade as the other forest Na’vi’s irises. 

Jake opens his mouth to speak. “I’m-”

“You’re Jake Sully,” you interrupt. He’s like a myth come to life. During your imprisonment, the girls and wardens talked about him nonstop. He’s a Pandoran celebrity. 

Your face turns crimson. It’s one thing to interrupt Mia, but it’s another to interrupt the goddamn Olo'eyktan, the leader of his people. Not just any, but Jake Sully in particular. You’re mortified. 

You’re unsure how to greet him properly. Should you kneel? Your body scrambles to do the right thing—you bow, curtsey, and offer your hand to shake all at once. 

Jake Sully breathes into the respirator around his neck, veiling a small chuckle. He takes your hand and shakes it gently; due to his size, his engulfs yours. 

“Have a seat,” he says. You do.

Jake Sully can’t possibly fit in any of the chairs, so he defaults to sitting on the floor. “I may be asking for a lot,” he says. “But in order to grant you asylum here, I need to know everything.”

He is asking for a lot. You’ve been through nothing but hell. Your face heats up just thinking about the things you’ve witnessed. You don’t want to relive it. Maybe Norm stopped the others earlier because he knew this was coming. 

As you look into Jake Sully’s eyes, you know malignity isn’t his intention. It quite literally has nothing to do with you, actually. You know that the Olo'eyktan’s job is to keep his people safe. That’s Jake Sully’s motive. He has to know you’re safe. It’s a two-way street—in order to grant you safety, he must be able to ensure his own. 

---

You relay your history on Pandora thus far. It takes over an hour to get through everything. It doesn’t help when Jake asks a dozen questions, and tangents branch off into more tangents. Half-way through the conversation, however, you already know you’re earning his trust. You pinpoint the exact moment, in which Jake admits the reason he joined the RDA and decided to come to Pandora when he lived in a human body. 

It’s just the two of you now—Max finished the dishes a while ago and Norm left because he needed rest. 

Jake avoids your eyes every time you mention something particularly harrowing about your imprisonment. You’re as precise as you are descriptive. Towards the end of your testimony, he looks at his feet for ten minutes straight, while you reiterate the prison break. He can’t say much in response. He acknowledges that the ordeal must have been horrific. 

“Sounds like something out of this old dystopian novel,” Jake mutters. “I think it was called The Handmaid’s Tale.” 

Lastly, you tell him about the Na’vi in the forest who saved you. 

“Do you know him?” you inquire. 

Jake nods. “I do. His name is Neteyam.” He chooses not to elaborate. He omits the fact that Neteyam is his first-born son, next in line for his title. 

“Neteyam,” you echo. 

Jake nods again when you mimic his pronunciation. It’s not bad, he thinks. Not as bad as Neteyam said, when his son was harping on your horrible accent after bringing you, a human, to High Camp on his ikran. Something Jake never thought he’d see. 

“I’d like to thank him,” you say. “He saved my life. How do you say thank you or show gratitude?”

Jake rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should spend a week or two or three here. Take some time to yourself before you consider leaving the science shack and interacting with my people,” he says awkwardly albeit bluntly.

Your brows furrow. His tone of voice suggests there’s no room for protest. 

“Spider, Norm, Max, and everyone else will teach you the ways of the Na’vi,” Jake says. “They all speak the language fluently. And if you want to interact with and live amongst my people, then so will you.”

You nod. You consider telling him the very reason the RDA chose you and your talents—that that was exactly what you came to Pandora to do. “So I will,” you reply simply. 

“If you see us, then we will see you,” Jake says in Na’vi. 

You catch none of it, but nod confidently anyway. He scoffs. 

“Good talk,” Jake says lastly. He takes another breath through his respirator, then leaves through the airlock, just as he came. 

---

A/N: Feel free to leave any and all comments on this chapter! The exposition is almost done, just hold on a little longer! The exposition continues in the next part, but Neteyam will make an appearance, I pinky promise!

Next part is projected to come out a week from today, Tuesday. I will try to keep a consistent posting schedule.

Thank you all so much for the kind comments and notes thus far! <3

[leeknowsnot]

kinktober — the god of love (minho)

genre: smut (minors dni), fluff

content: minho x reader, god of love minho au, reader is a hopeless romantic because i am too, greek god themes, he is eros the god of love, modernized greek gods, body worship, vanilla, just pure love, mature themes, mention of p-rn

oh my god, this is my first smut on this page. i hope i did okay though, it's been a long while since i wrote smut. anyway, i'll try starting on the others soon! read at your own risk

kinktober masterlist

Piles of paperwork laid before him. His eyes scrutinized every paper, dreading the sight of the amount of work he'd have to do. What was he doing here anyway? Right. He was called in for some extra work because the amount of stuff that the employees under him had to do was overwhelming.

Piles and piles of paperwork. "Over what?" his colleague would ask him and he would roll his eyes.

"Some dumbass woman who can't stop falling in love and getting heartbroken over every goddamn man," he would complain.

For Minho, being the God of Love wasn't all arrows and rainbows. Oh look, a girl crushing on a guy. Let's shoot an arrow to his chest so he could fall in love with her too! No. He wasn't highschool cupid. It wasn't as easy as that, unlike what most people would actually think. If he was going to be honest, there wasn't much field work to begin with. The only field work he'd do is to sit on his chair, observing people as they fall in love with each other, only to deal with multiple paperwork as soon as couples start falling out and breaking up with each other. He hated how people treated love as if it was something so dispensable. Like a one-time thing. Well, mostly because it gave him so much work to deal with.

And you, on the other hand, was one of those types that he hated the most: a hopeless romantic. He never really believed in hoping for love despite being the God of Love himself. Stop falling in love multiple times in a year. He always wanted to drill that into your brain each time he'd come down from HQ to observe you and your stupid attempts at pursuing whoever you were onto at the moment. He would lie if he said he never cringed everytime you'd blush at the smallest things. He was annoyed at how you always fell so hard over the bare minimum.

He types away angrily at his keyboard, cursing under his breath. "12th time this fucking year. I swear, if that shithead falls in love with the wrong guy again, I'm gonna shoot myself."

His fingers stop typing, eyes staring into the screen as his eyebrows rest on a permanent scowl on his face. He stared at your image through the documents, analyzing every feature on your face. He wouldn't deny the fact that you were attractive in a way, which made him wonder for a moment why you'd always fail at your attempts on finding love.

Minho sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before he stands up from his seat. "Better pay her a short visit. I need some amusement after all that headache she's been giving me," he mutters to himself.

...

Minho sat there, eyebrows raised. You weren't the type to wear revealing dresses and yet here you were, a scissor away from being practically naked. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating since you only opted to expose your shoulders but you never really showed much skin before. Each time Minho would drop by secretly to observe you during your dates to see if they'd finally succeed, you were either wearing cute floral dresses, or anything that was wholesome. But then again, he had to remind himself where he had to go just to check on you.

A nightclub.

In all honesty, some shoulderless blouse was just the tip of the iceberg compared to how the others dressed. Some were practically naked but Minho didn't pay much attention to them. His eyes were focused on eyeing you at the other side of the room, through grinding bodies.

Though, his gaze on your faltered as soon as a woman sat beside him, brushing her arm on his that was rested on top of the counter. "Hey there, pretty boy," the woman winked at him.

Minho wanted to puke then and there and his expression said it all. He eyed the woman from head to toe, immediately disgusted at her mere presence. He brought his eyes back to you but as soon as he did so, he saw you swaying by the dancefloor with some guy.

Now, Minho wasn't the type to be fazed by such a sight, but the way the man roamed his hands around your torso and attempted to grind his hips towards yours slightly annoyed Minho. Especially with how your face would contort and twitch in discomfort. You were trying your best to hide it and make light of the situation but Minho knew better than to not notice.

He stood up from his seat, tossing all reasoning aside and decided to pull you out of whatever shit you had gotten yourself into just so you could get yourself a lover. "To hell with that," he thought. You were looking for love at the wrong place. The worst place, in fact.

As soon as he arrived at your spot, he grabbed your wrist, earning a surprised yelp from you. He didn't look at you but at the man who was already 5 seconds away from zipping off his pants. Minho was glaring. "Keep your hands and your dick to yourself, yeah?" he tells off the man, earning himself a drunk response but all noise had been shut out and the fucks he could give was thrown out the window the moment he turned to you. "What were you trying to get yourself into, you idiot?"

Minho forgot that he was the only one who knew you like the back of his hand at this point. He was basically a stranger to you. But as he looked into your eyes, you lost yourself in them. His voice came out as muffled due to the trance you were in from the alcohol you just had earlier. And Minho noticed this so he snapped into your face but to no avail.

He dragged you out of the club and you could swear the door that was supposed to lead outside the streets led to somewhere else when Minho opened it but you decided that it was your mind and the alcohol playing its tricks on you. Minho brought you to his office through the club's door—an ability that always proved to be handy. He made you sit on his couch, giving you a glass of water.

"Drink that. It'll help with the hangover," he says. He never had hangover before since human liquor never really had much of an effect for him and the other Gods but he saw how bad humans had it each time they'd have hangovers. "How many glasses did you have anyway," he mumbles under his breath, not particularly expecting you to hear or respond.

His hand bring itself up to your face as he holds a towel, wiping off your sweat. "You suck at taking care of yourself. You always put those idiots first before yourself, that's why you're always getting rejected," he mumbles again, an annoyed expression now on his face. However, his expression turns into confusion as soon as he sees you squint your eyes at him.

"You... look familiar," you say, a hiccup following your sentence as you try your best to dig your memories through your drunken stupor.

Minho shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous. No one looks like me," he says but you suck air between your teeth.

"No, I swear I've seen you somewhere," you dazingly tapped on your temple before your eyes widen in realization and you point at him. "Oh, I remember now! I see you a lot of times whenever I..." you trail off your sentence. You gasp. "You're always around whenever I meet guys for dates! Are you perhaps, my stalker?"

This earned you a light slap on the forehead from Minho.

"You didn't have to hit my head!" you pouted at him.

"Stop pouting, you look ugly," he says as he removes your shoes. "I wasn't stalking you."

You squint your eyes again at him. Both at his answer and as to why he was removing your shoes. "Then what were you doing? And what are you doing?"

Minho glances up at you with a look of disbelief. "Removing your shoes, if that's not obvious enough," he turns back to removing your other shoe. "I thought you were dumb only with love. You're dumb with telling actions too."

You frown, "Why are you even removing my shoes?! Put them back on??"

"For the record, you are not Cinderella. And you'd rather I let you get blisters? Why did you even wear heels? You never wore heels," he whispers the last part. You blink.

"You are my stalker," you gasp, earning another glare from Minho.

As he finished removing your shoes, he plops himself back down beside you. "I was observing you," he says, answering your question.

"Yeah, you were stalking me," you butt in.

"Stalking is different from observing. Get your facts right," he argues back.

'This man,' you thought to yourself as you look at him in disbelief. Though despite his sarcastic remarks, you could feel as if you knew him for a long time already. Or maybe because you'd see him a lot everywhere. You always thought it was coincidence.

"Why were you observing me?" you ask him.

Minho sighs, rubbing his face with a hand as he looks at you, probably being annoyed at how much you were asking him. "Entertainment. Your idiocy amuses me," he sarcastically replies.

You were speechless.

First, this man ruins your date. Your chances of getting laid tonight. You didn't mind if it was drunk sex, as long as it was sex, that was how hopeless you were. Second, he denies being your stalker. Third, he was mocking your poor taste in men and bad luck in love. And lastly, he was telling you that you were basically a no go because you were an idiot.

"I can't believe this," you scoff under your breath. "You ruined my chances for... this."

Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Chances at what."

You roll your eyes at him. "Getting laid."

Minho stares at you for a while before sighing. You were such a piece of work. On second thought, he'd rather deal with paperwork than your attitude. He shakes his head in hopelessness, eyes still at you.

"You were going to settle with drunk sex?" he asked with a tone of as-a-matter-of-fact. When you nodded, he chuckled in disbelief.

"Well, what do you want me to do then?" you snapped your head at him. "I always fail at romance. I try to establish wholesome relationships but they... They just fail. And this..." you pause. "It may not be the best option, but it's my only chance of actually getting a guy."

Minho was amused at how emotional you were getting. He could see the tears forming in your eyes as you explain. Sure, Minho was getting frustrated over this ordeal, but you were too and he just realized that. If he was getting annoyed over paperwork, then it meant people were hurting too. You were hurting too.

For some reason, Minho disliked that idea. For the longest time, he'd see the brightest smiles on your face each time you fell in love or experienced something akin to love. He thought it was only for work that he'd come down to observe you each time you go on dates. But in truth, he liked seeing you smile. He didn't know how or when it started. He just... liked to see your face brighten up.

Maybe he wasn't annoyed at you because you always fell in love and get broken and give him more paperwork. Maybe he was annoyed at the fact that people kept on hurting you. He was annoyed at the fact that guys always took advantage of your love. He was annoyed at the fact that you always gave it your all to guys who didn't deserve any of your love. He was annoyed at himself for seeing it otherwise.

Minho chuckles, more at himself than at you. "That's such a sad excuse to find love, it's pathetic."

You turned your head towards him, about to retort but you shut yourself up as soon as he brought his face close to yours. Your eyes widened. "What—"

"You're pathetic," he mumbles. "I can't believe you're going to settle with just that." Then, he closes the gap between you two. His lips touched yours momentarily, brushing like a feather before diving deep. For a second, it was as if your world stopped. You may have had failed attempts at love but that doesn't mean you never had kisses. Though, most of them were empty. In fact, you've had too many kisses to the point that you had to think to yourself if you'll only get kisses for the rest of your life.

But this. This was... You couldn't put the right words. No, that was the perfect word for it. Right. It felt so... right.

The kiss felt too short as soon as he pulled away, eyes staring into yours. You could swear you could see the whole universe in them. You barely talked to this man for more than an hour and yet you feel like you've known him forever.

Minho's eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. He has always seen you. How you look. How you dressed. How you spoke. But he has never seen you this close. And now that he has, it was as if he was looking at Zeus' finest piece of art. Your beauty held more charm than Aphrodite herself. Hell, you'd start more wars than Helen of Troy ever did with that pretty little face of yours.

He parts his lips, his warm breath adding fuel to the warmth that had now spread on your blushing face. "In all of my decades, observing your kind and mine," he pauses. "I have never met anyone as beautiful as you."

"I wonder which God sculpted you," he mutters under his breath, eyes bearing themselves into yours. "Those eyes. They're like Narcissus. I could get lost just by staring at them."

He placed another kiss on your lips, this time much softer than the last.

"Those men are fools," he says. "They could never see true beauty. Beauty that has so willingly presented itself before them."

It was as if he had fallen right then and there. The irony of being the God of Love was that he barely fell in love himself. But when he does, he falls deep. Turns into such poet. Just as how he was letting himself become vulnerable before you.

He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect pieces of a puzzle. You were entranced. You didn't know how or why. But the way his hand would graze on your skin felt like electricity. The good kind where the hair on your back would stand each time you'd feel warm air breeze through while you are cold. Like goosebumps.

You wondered if there was something in that water that he had given you earlier. Aphrodisiac? No. There was nothing in there. And yet you felt so entranced. So pulled in. So dazed. You had never felt this feeling before from your past lovers. Then again, were those even love? Or just infatuation? Was it the true definition of love, or was this the true definition of love? Maybe it was just the effect of having the God of Love himself being so close to you. But you were none the wiser of his identity as a God. And yet he pulled you in like gravity.

His lips placed a chaste kiss on your lips once more, gradually travelling towards your cheek, your jawline, and your neck. They were slow yet passionate. His hands ran up your arms, holding your shoulder as he carefully lays you on the couch so you'd feel comfortable.

Minho looks at you once more. "Will you let me show you what love is?" he asks with a quiet tone. You stare at him for a short while, with him still placing soft kisses on your neck as he waits for your response. Eventually, you nod.

He hums quietly in satisfaction. "Just follow my lead," he says.

You don't know what happened after that. You only remember his occasional glances. His chaste kisses on your skin. His hands caressing everywhere they could land on, memorizing your every curve. You only remember laying there, naked.

His gaze on you never faltered. His eyes memorized every feature, taking in every imperfection that you had. As a God, he was but used to seeing only the perfect complexions. But with your body, the imperfections were what made you more beautiful in his eyes.

Minho leans down towards you, brushing the back of his fingers on your cheek softly. He held you as if you were porcelain. No rough movements. No raspy caresses. "Stop looking for love," he muses. "Because love himself is presenting itself to you." He takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles. "Love itself is yours to take."

You part your lips with a soft gasp. No one, not even one man has ever told you such words. No one, not even one man has ever seen you this naked. No one, not even one man has ever held you as much as this man did. And he was worshipping you with both his words, his kisses, and his touches.

His hand pulled you closer for another kiss before caressing down your body, eventually resting itself on your thigh. His thumb brushes on your skin before travelling towards your inner thigh. His finger lingers too close to your core. Not touching, but you could feel it. Minho smiles at your reaction, chuckling as he finally runs a digit through your folds.

You lightly gasp, biting your lower lip to immediately stop yourself from letting out a sound. He looks up at you, amused by your sensitivity. You couldn't blame him. After all, you were a virgin. Both by touch and by intercourse. He could immediately tell as he continued running his finger through your heat, dragging through every slick as a string of your love juice connects your nub and the tip of his finger with every slow stroke. He traces small circles around your clit, earning a shivery hum from you as you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

You hated how slow he was teasing you. Minho, however, was loving every second of it. How red your cheeks were right now. How half-lidded your eyes were. How wet you already were with just a few kisses and a few strokes.

He leans towards your chest, taking out his tongue to gently brush on one of your nipples, making you twitch. "You're quite easy to please," he mutters as he flicks his tongue and sucks lightly on your nipple. "But then again... You are a virgin."

This made your eyes widen. You tilted your head to the side, covering your face with embarrassment. You hear Minho chuckle before he takes your wrists, removing your hands from your face. "Shhh, it's okay." he whispers in your ear. He places a quiet kiss on your ear lobe. He faces you again. "At least you didn't get to experience how horrible and selfish those men are when it comes to making love."

His smile falters. "No. They don't call it making love, do they?" his eyes trail down to your stomach, bringing himself down so he could place kisses and kitten licks on your skin. "I believe most of them like calling it casual sex."

"Bastards," he curses under his breath before lowering himself again, this time being face-to-face with your heat. You embarrassingly closed your legs, momentarily making him react as your thighs envelope his head. He looks up at you with an amused smirk. "Guess you're into that, huh?" he mumbles with a husky tone before finally leaning in.

You could swear you momentarily saw stars as soon as his warm, wet tongue ran through your folds. His breath would always exhale each time he would swirl his tongue around your clit, slurping occasionally from his makeshift chalice.

You were sweeter than ambrosia and nectar, and he couldn't have enough. You were a walking cardinal sin, ready to prey on a God, to tempt him to indulge in such temptation. And that God was him. Except that you weren't tempting him, but it was him who willingly walked into your trap without any provocation.

The God of Love, enchanted by a human being. By you.

As his sucks and licks increased their pace, so did your stiffled moans. "Don't keep your moans to yourself," he says. "I'd love some good music." He stuck his tongue inside of you, exploring every crevice of your walls as much as he could while his teeth would occasionally scrape lightly through your clit. When you finally moan out loud unintentionally, he smiles. "That's it. Let me hear your pretty voice."

Every second that he spent worshipping you with his tongue brought you closer to something. You were already way past from what you used to consider as climax from your self-ministrations but this was something else. Something higher. Something more pleasurable.

You subconsciously grabbed his head, pulling his head closer. Minho's eyes widen a bit, surprised at your action but complies anyway. He smirks, tongue lapping you up faster as his mouth starts making the most sinful sounds as he sucks you in his mouth. He holds both your legs, determined to make you see a taste of heaven just as much as how he was tasting his own version of heaven through you.

As he gives you a long, dragging suck with the swirling of his tongue on your clit, it finally brings you to the edge. Your eyes shut tight, mouth hung open, and back arched as you cry out in pleasure. Your legs shake as they attempt to wiggle out from his grasps but his hold was strong, keeping you in place as he continues to suck on you, giving you overstimulation as you ride your first high.

He eventually lets you recover as you pant, now hovering above you as he licks away the remaining juices off his lips as if it was syrup. His eyes observe you, loving how helpless you looked as you tried to catch your breath from just a single climax, and just with a simple oral too. Minho brushes off a stray hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear as he places a kiss on your forehead.

"Well?" he asks. "It's good, isn't it?" You were too out of it to even answer. No one could blame you, the first orgasm—whether it was oral or not—was always the most mind-blowing. Too mind-blowing it turned you speechless in a matter of minutes. "That guy you were dancing with wouldn't even give a single fuck whether you'd cum or not," he says. "He'd only want to put his sad excuse of a dick inside that pretty little mouth and call it a day."

Minho places a soft kiss on your lips. "Human men won't care for you as much as Love himself would," he pauses. "Because they do not know love. They only know Lust."

He gently opens your legs, zipping down his own pants in the process. "Let me make love to you," Minho says, caressing your thighs as he raises them. He places kisses on your legs. When you finally recover from your trance, you glance at him. He was now as naked as you were but you could swear you were laying your eyes upon a God. And you really were.

He was perfect regardless wherever you would lay your eyes upon. Especially his arms. God, his arms were like nothing you have ever seen and yet they held you with such care. He could flail you around like a ragdoll, just like what most men would do in those porn videos you'd watch each time you felt a little lonely. But no, he held you as if you were a priceless vase. He'd trace your body as if it was some rare artwork to revel on at a museum. He'd draw you in his head like you were one of his French girls. Except that he didn't have any of those. You were the only girl that made a significance within his eyes.

You finally gave in, tossing all reason aside. If this was going to be your final chance at love, you prayed. Then you might as well let it happen.

Your tongues danced within a kiss, intertwining with each other both emotionally and physically. He clung unto you and you clung unto him, bodies pressing into each other as your sweat would momentarily stick each time Minho would close the proximity between you two. His thrusts started as slow yet passionate strokes, your velvety walls hugging around him as you moan in between gaps of your sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your waist, resting by your hips as he grips them only to pull you back towards him so you'd meet his thrusts.

He wasn't ruthless. He wasn't in a rush. He wasn't destroying you. And just like he said, he wasn't just giving you sex. He was making love with you. His slow thrust eventually increase its pace, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix at each thrust. The sinful sound of skins slapping fill the walls of his office, mixed in by both your moans. He would always place wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and latch his lips on your nipple, never having enough of you as he drives deeper and deeper into you.

If he could, he would bury himself into you. Get lost in pleasure with you. Stay inside you. If it meant showing you what love really was, he would do it. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body and his as your moans encouraged him to go even deeper. He couldn't get enough of the way you looked at him. How your lips would mouth incoherent words as he continues to savor the feeling of being inside you.

Soon enough, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around Minho's neck, pulling him closer as you yourself get closer to your own climax once more. He could feel you slowly tightening around him, a smirk finding its way on his lips.

"Cumming again?" he whispers, quiet groans lacing his question in between as he starts to thrust into you at a faster pace. You nod absentmindedly, eyes shut tight as you arch your back once more. He raises your legs, gaining more access to thrust deeper. "Deeper," he mumbles. "A little more."

With each thrust, his cock reached deeper depths that you didn't know were reachable. It sent you on edge. With his one final thrust, he finally hits that button needed for you to snap, making you moan out loud. The way you suddenly clenched around him as he was buried deep inside you made him reach his own climax as well, painting your walls with his own release. "Cumming cumming cumming!" you mutter, hands gripping on his arms as his groans muffle themselves in your neck.

You both laid there, gasping for air in each other's arms, savoring each other's warmth before Minho finally raises his head from your neck and looks at you. His face held the most loving and softest expression. He was smiling at your dazed state.

He places a kiss on your forehead. On your nose. And on your lips before looking into your half-lidded eyes. "I'll be back soon," he says. He said something else after that but you were too exhausted to even remember as your eyes finally closed, sending you into a state of rest.

...

You awoke with a jolt as you shot up from your bed, eyes open wide as you pant. You glanced around, immediately recognizing your surroundings as your bedroom. You frown to yourself, glancing down beneath the blanket.

What the hell happened? you asked yourself. You weren't exactly sure. You remembered being in a bar to meet up with that tinder date you have been crushing on since last week but after that, you passed out—probably from alcohol and now here you were, confused.

You wondered how you got home in the first place.

And that dream, you sighed to yourself, feeling your core wet from whatever dream you had. You shook your head, a palm running through your face as you groan in frustration.

"I can't believe I was so desperate to the point I'd dream of making love with someone," you roll your eyes at yourself as you throw yourself back on the bed again. This time, hugging your pillow and your curiosity piqued at your dream. "Whoever that guy was in my dream was really attractive though," you mutter to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho observed you through the window of your room from far a way, chuckling. He observes your pretty features first before finally turning around.

He'll remain in your dreams for now. After all, that was how Greek Gods would visit their human love affairs—through dreams. Though this time, he'd visit your dreams frequently.

Maybe because he wants less paperwork from you. Maybe because he wants you to pine for him more than the men you'd meet.

Eitherway, he can't wait until he visits you the next time you close your eyes again.

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

[cutielando]

Hello love, how is everything going?🫂

I'm the one from the Jay in the truck fic, which was amazing, you made someone very happy today (someone is me)😚🩷

If you have time you could write one where Jay dates the reader but he is a few years younger than him, but he's so proud to have met a girl like her, maybe someone on the team makes playful comments about it because he is tough in part but it is as if he was always so soft with her that they come to not know him. maybe they even see a couple of hickeys on him but he looks proud because he is LITERALLY so in love that he kisses the ground where she steps and he loves that they know he has a girl, a little pretentious about it🤭

Maybe also after a difficult case he looks for her because she is his safe space.🫶🏼🥹

This is a bit messy but I'm not good at putting ideas together, I apologize, also english is not my first language in case this is something difficult to understand.🥹🫶🏼

Also sorry that there are so many haha you can take them if you want or just let them pass if you don't feel comfortable, sending you love!💌

comfort person | j.h.

my masterlist

Jay couldn't believe his luck, in all honesty.

Ever since he could remember, his luck when it came to love and personal relationships was close to being non-existent. His relationship history was excellent proof of that.

But everything seemed to change for the better when he met you.

You had met in a bar, out of all places. Hit it off right away, chatted over a drink, promised to stay in touch.

And oh boy, had you stayed in touch.

You were wary of hanging out with Jay at first, mainly because of the dangers of his job (that he sometimes reminded you of) and because of the age difference.

5 years was not that much, if you were being realistic, but it was still something. You were afraid that you wouldn’t be the woman he was looking for, maybe his expectations in life didn’t align with yours.

Thankfully, you were very wrong about that.

And so, you found yourself together, 1 year later, happier and more in love than ever. Much to the joy of his team, who made it their mission to tease the fuck out of Jay every single day at the precinct.

Especially when they would notice certain marks on his neck after a wild night in bed.

Such an instance was right after the team had finished a very hard case involving a child kidnapping. When Jay got home, you could tell he was absolutely hammered and needed to unwind, so you did the thing you knew would help him out.

The next morning at the precinct, you went with him to say hi to the team, but you got teased instead.

“Woah, did an animal attack you last night?” Adam asked Jay as soon as he got a good look at his colleague.

Jay furrowed his eyebrows, while you were trying to hide your blush in his bicep.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, checking his arms for any kind of marks.

Adam smirked and pointed to his neck, which immediately made your boyfriend realize what he was talking about.

Even though you couldn’t see it because you were hiding your face into his arm, you could tell Jay was blushing furiously while being teased by his close friend.

“Don’t you dare say a word” Jay threatened Adam, who could only laugh at the situation between the two of you.

“I’m gonna go now” you murmured to Jay, quickly standing on your tiptoes to peck his cheek before basically running out of the precinct.

Jay could only blame Adam for your quick departure, much faster than what he had been hoping.

“She certainly keeps you active” Ruzek said once he came back from their break room with a cup of coffee.

“Shut up, Ruz. You’re just jealous you’re not getting any” Jay commented, making Adam act offended.

"I'm just saying, she's sure keeping you busy and fit" Adam continued, giving Jay a sly smile.

"She makes me happy" Jay confessed, smiling to himself when he thought about you and your relationship.

The conversation died with that, a new case putting a pause on Jay's thoughts about you for the time being.

Jay hadn't expected the case to be as rough as it was, and he felt awful by the time he got home to you. He was tired, his limbs were sore and his heart ached. The only thing he wanted in that moment was the sole comfort of your presence, your comforting hugs and just quality time spent away from his job.

When you heard the keys in the lock, you excitedly ran to the front door to welcome him, but your smile was instantly wiped off your face when you saw just how broken and tired he was.

"Rough day?" you asked as you cautiously watched him taking off his shoes and hanging his coat on the hanger.

"Yeah, got a tough care after you came home" he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before going into the bedroom, placing his gun and badge into his safe before coming back out and joining you on the couch.

He melted into the soft couch, his hand finding yours instantly. You felt for him, not even wanting to imagine how tough his job must get on the hard days, like this one.

You moved Jay's head off the back of the couch and maneuvered him until he was resting his head into your lap, your fingers softly running through his soft hair.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the serene atmosphere that had settled between the two of you.

His eyes opened and looked at you, dozens of emotions swimming behind his irises. The only thoughts that occupied his head were how lucky he was to have you, how cared for he was and how much he loved you. He cherished you more than you could ever know, especially in moments like this one, when he is reminded of just how grateful he should be for the life he has.

"I love you" he whispered softly, making you smile at him and lean down to peck his lips, your free hand caressing the side of his face softly.

"I love you more" you whispered back, licking your lips.

And so, the entire evening was spent exactly like that, whispering love confessions to each other like they were a secret to the entire world.

But you loved every second of it.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[luveline]

could I maybe request some more coworker james, maybe reader telling james about something she’s upset about? love you and your writing, hope you’re okay my love!! :)

thank you for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Today, James has moved your mug to the fridge. He laughs as he does it, while Sirius tuts and drinks a quick cup of tea by the sink. “You’re gonna bully her out of the job,” Sirius says. 

“This isn’t bullying. This is hazing. Light hazing. If she asks me where it is I’ll tell her, but she’ll find it.” He puts it on top of his lunch, practically begging for retaliation. 

You arrive in a fluster that morning, a few minutes late but no less pretty than usual. It’s irksome but nothing he feels the need to comment on, smiling to himself as you sit. Your desk knocks against his and sends his little Smiski figurine tumbling. 

“Sorry,” you say, reaching over to pick him up. You’re gentle putting him back on James' outgoings, your perfume floating his way. “Poor Smiski.” 

“I’m sure he’ll recover. What’s with the late start, princess?” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t be a chauvinist.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” He can’t help grinning at you. James doesn’t believe that you genuinely think he’s a chauvinist, and so he doesn’t mind continuing to poke at you. “I hardly think calling you princess demonstrates any belief that I’m better than you. I am better than you.” He bites. “What’s with the hair?” 

You’ve had your hair done. It looks gorgeous and like it took half a day, but he doesn’t mention that. 

“I have to go with Sirius today to talk to Enlighten limited.” 

“Why would you have to do that?” 

“Sirius says I’m the administrator’s type.” 

“And he’s using you as bait?” James asks incredulously. 

You turn the Smiski so he’s facing James’ monitor. “He said I shall be greatly rewarded.” You’ve had your nails done, their beds shiny with lacquer, your cuticles finely manicured. 

You put your bag under your desk. Your hands shift in your lap. 

James watches in bridled horror when you leave. To the outward observer he doesn’t care because he shouldn’t, but he can’t believe it when you go —you’re a beautiful girl and he’s awful inside, he hates that you’re pretty, he hates that you’ve had your hair done to go see somebody, he sort of hates that Sirius is using you like a poster girl to facilitate business. You’re a water safety company. What is wrong with him? What’s wrong with James?

“She looked nice, didn’t she?” Remus asks. 

James ignores him diligently. He tries to ignore the entire world for a few hours, completing three times as much work as he usually would and dedicatedly avoiding the thought of your hands while he does it. 

You didn’t even notice that he moved your mug. How embarrassing is that? James thinks he might dig a hole and throw himself in it before you get back. 

Later, you return. You’re both with weak smiles as you sit down and Sirius stands behind Remus. 

“Did it go okay?” Remus asks, tipping his head back. 

Sirius frowns but gives his boyfriend a nice kiss on the cheek anyways. “I don’t think they’re gonna choose us this time. It’s fine. Now come with me so I can make you some tea, handsome.” 

You tuck your chair in as they go. 

“Didn’t go well?” James asks you. 

You shake your head. For a moment you stare at your keyboard, and then you turn to him with a wobbly smile. “I think I really messed it up for him, James.” 

“How would you do that?” 

“I tried to be conversational, you know. Sirius is so chatty. But I kept saying the wrong things. I asked him about his daughter. He had all these photos on the wall, but she died last June. Just decimated the mood.” Your brow wrinkles. You cover your frown with two fingers. “Sirius wasn’t mad.” 

“He wouldn’t be mad at you for a shit business meeting, he’s not like that. I don’t think anyone can blame you for that.” 

You pause again. “You’re sure?” 

You’d been expecting a joke, it seems. James had meant to make fun of you, but your honesty threw him off. He struggles to say anything else, the two of you looking at one another in mutual surprise, until insecurity flashes in your eyes and you peel back. 

James turns his head to his spreadsheet, though his eyes remain on you. 

“I know he’s not mad at me, but he should be. He took me with him to help and I…” You rub your lips together, what little that’s left of your lipgloss spreading thin. “I really thought I could do it.” 

“You can. If poaching clients were hard, Sirius wouldn’t have a job.” He feels bad for diminishing Sirius’ efforts, joke or not, and he softens his tone. “What makes you think you can’t do it? Because you made a mistake? You couldn’t have known it was a sore subject.” 

“I feel silly. I felt so stupid sitting in his office, I looked like an idiot.” 

“No, you didn’t.” James bites the inside of his lip to stop from saying anything ridiculous, but his eyes stray. He looks at your eyes, your soft cheek, the curve of your neck and your hair and your lips, rubbed and bitten enough that your lipgloss is almost completely gone. You didn’t look stupid. You never…

James is in deep shit, it seems. You’re so pretty. 

For a moment, he can’t remember why he doesn’t like you. 

You falter under his gaze. “I guess I’m being childish, worrying,” you say tightly. 

“You’re not being childish.” James clears his throat, sits a bit straighter. “It’s okay to worry about stuff when it’s gone wrong, but I can go and ask Sirius right now if he thinks any of that was your fault and I know he’d say no. You tried your best,” —his hand slides across the desk, nowhere near touching you but an unconscious response— “okay?” 

“I tried my best,” you say softly. 

“And you looked scrumptious.” You snort. “But it’s back to business now, cool? You can’t mooch an entire day doing nothing, I need you to check off some of these spreadsheets for me, I’m missing a ton of laboratory numbers.” 

You rush to do as he’s said, and that’s that, the charged air between you simmers and dies. 

“James,” you say, with dawning horror, “how many of these did you do?” 

“I’m oh so productive when you’re not here to irritate me, apparently.” 

[blackhairedjjun]

honesty - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, open ending, non-idol au, best friends to (potential?) lovers | word count: 818 | warnings: profanity, arguing, reader has a toxic ex, implied infidelity (from the ex not yj)

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon - "maybe with a bf2lovers au ?")

author's notes: hi anon! tbh it took me a while to write this since i already did the heat prompt with a different member and i didn't want it to be too similar lol. the ending is more maybe-lovers than outright lovers, but i hope you still like it! <3

despite the calm of the river next to you and yeonjun, your circumstances are anything but. you tried to keep your voice low at first, but your emotions run so high that you’ve given up; you care little about the other people staring at you as they stroll past.

“for fuck’s sake, yeonjun!” you yell. “you’re my friend, not my dad!”

“and aren’t friends supposed to look out for each other?!” your best friend grips his hair in his hands as if to pull it out, then lets go. “i’m telling you to stop hoping for him to come back! he doesn’t fucking care!”

“shut up! you don’t know him like i do!”

“i know he broke your heart so bad that you locked yourself up for a week, and that’s enough!” yeonjun takes a few steps toward you, but you step back.

what was supposed to be a calm afternoon stroll with your best friend has now turned into an argument once you brought up the topic of dating your ex again. you open your mouth to speak, then press your lips together. a cool wind blows from behind you; in your silence you hear a young couple laughing by the riverside, and you envy them.

you know that yeonjun is right, but you refuse to give him the point.

“ he destroyed you, y/n. and now he’s pleading for you back when he’s been kissing others?! don’t you know any better than that?!”

“i do! so why don’t you trust me on this?! why don’t you believe me when i say he’s changed? you keep seeing him as the bad guy!”

“and why don’t you trust me?!” yeonjun’s own voice gets louder with each word, oblivious to the stares of others. “i’m not making it up when i say i’ve heard him flirting with girls, i’ve seen him make out with them at parties. i’m trying to protect you from more heartbreak!”

he sucks in a breath and his voice shifts from loud to trembling. again he steps towards you, but you don’t move away. you look down at your hands to avoid his gaze and find them shaking.

“he’ll break you all over again,” he says. “and i can’t let that happen to you again... i couldn’t stand it the first time.”

a voice in your head tells you that he’s not lying; your best friend has no reason to. you ignore it and root your feet to the ground. “and that’s none of your fucking business, yeonjun. just let me make this choice for myself! i don’t need you trying to tell me what to feel. why do you care so much, huh? why are you trying to control how i feel?!”

“because i一 y/n, you can’t be serious一”

“i am serious! why the hell do you care so much about this damn guy?!”

“because i’m in love with you!”

yeonjun’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said and he takes a few steps back. you’re frozen to your spot, but you no longer feel rooted. instead you feel brittle, as if a single touch could send you crumbling. every nerve in your body feels primed to fall apart.

“shit, i never should have said that. god, i am so sor一”

“yeonjun...”

his name is barely a whisper from your mouth. you swallow hard, unsure what to say. you can do nothing more but stare at your best friend: the one you’ve told everything to, the one you trusted more than anything else, the one who held you in his arms when you cried after your ex broke your heart. the realization that he’s loved you all this time starts to sink in.

there’s an ache in his eyes now, one so strong that you look away. you take a deep breath and hold yourself together long enough to collect your thoughts.

“i am so sorry, y/n.” his voice breaks and you know he’s on the verge of tears. “i shouldn’t have said一”

“no, jjun.” his nickname weighs down on your tongue. “i... i just...”

you can see yeonjun’s shadow growing closer to yours. with one hand he reaches out for yours, trembling still; with the other he gently lifts your chin up to look at him. his eyes shine with tears, but the ache in them has lessened a bit.

you step forward and he collapses into you. you catch him as he stumbles forward, your arms finding his waist and his head buried in your neck. you hold him gently as you can, as if carrying a fragile treasure; his body shakes ever so slightly as he starts to cry and his tears wet your skin.

when you speak, your words are quiet and carefully chosen.

“i ran away from you, jjun. that’s why i tried to date him again... because i thought you’d never love me back.”

[muniimyg]

ALONE TOGETHER // MYG

you’ll always be his first choice

+

yoongi spends too much time convincing you to not be anyone’s second choice all the while he remains yours

pairing: (protective) best friend yoongi + oc 

au/genre:

best friends to ???

crush au

fluff, slight, one-sided pining

warnings:

mentions of cheating

explicit language

feelings of being second choice

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

There’s an unfamiliar tension that invades the space between you and him. 

You’re fidgeting with your hands, trying your best to avoid eye contact. He’s here. Of course, he is. It’d be much more unlike him to not be. Yet, he stays silent, unable to pick a thought to express first. 

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed as he stands, leaning against your door frame. You can’t really make out what his facial expression is, but there is a weight of disappointment that presses your heart. It all feels too heavy—all too real. It didn’t need to be like this but the days of your avoidance fell in vain as the recently confirmed rumours exposed every bit of privacy you’ve been trying to keep.

“Yoongi—“

“Don’t.”

He exhales heavily and takes a step forward. “I.. I should’ve known better. I should’ve been here earlier.. I could have been. If you let me, you know?” Yoongi gives you a puzzled look. It was as if he was offended at your lack of needing him. “... And that’s the part where I’m confused.. Why didn’t you call me?”

He makes the move first. 

He sits next to you and places his hand on top of yours causing your fidgeting to stop. You look up and him and he feels like he was just punched in the stomach. Perhaps it was your tired expression and your dull eyes—whatever it was; it hurt to see you look the way you do now.

 You move your hand away and shrug. “Does it matter? You’re here now.” You say in an attempt to lighten the mood. He glares at you, refusing to give in to your words. A moment of silence falls upon you two again. 

“So.. How is he?” you ask Yoongi. Instantly, he groans in frustration. 

Are you serious? Were you always this annoying?

“Jimin dumps you for the girl he told you not to worry about… And you’re asking if he’s okay?” Yoongi’s words feel like salt being rubbed into your open wounds. “Not to mention that he practically cheated on you.”

You look at him with a soft smile but no words come out of your mouth. What was there to say? It already happened. Were you supposed to beg Jimin to stay with you? How could you live with yourself, fully knowing you’re the second choice? How could you continue to love him truly if his wandering eyes never glance your way?

Jimin’s mistreatment towards you almost feels like a joke. Everyone had warned him not to fuck up. Everyone warned you to keep your guard up. It was just the nature of him and the fate for you. Now, here is your best friend in the entire world; incredibly angry for you. He barged into your apartment to be some sort of damage control. 

The thing is; no part of you wants to admit how bad it really burns inside. You struggle to swallow your pride. But it is hard. It’s so fucking hard when you feel pathetic and useless. There’s no way you’d want to mix desperate in there. 

It was your pride that stopped you from calling Yoongi. He was right and it was too embarrassing to cry over someone he had told you not to give the time of day. On the contrary, you still believe Jimin was a good boyfriend—a great one even! However, he had a life and impulsive decisions that contradicted his promises to you. You didn’t expect commitment or an incredibly long relationship with him, but you did expect honesty.. 

And perhaps, honesty is what he gave when he dumped you. 

“He’s fucking amazing. He’s Jimin. Nothing really brings him down even if it’s his own bullshit,” Yoongi pauses and wonders if he should stop here. Should say the next part? He’s afraid they could possibly change your feelings. Could it? If it does.. Would it be for the better or worse?

“He asked about you, though.” Yoongi pauses, almost instantly regretting to speak up about this. maybe he should brush it off and leave it be.. This was his chance to protect you in a way.. Then, your eyes light up. Your eyes always light up this way whenever you have feelings for someone. It’s an observation Yoongi took the time to note. 

Putting his feelings aside, he dismisses his hesitation and fixates on your happiness. 

He should tell you. He has to tell you. 

“He asked about you.. First. That’s how I found out.. He told me.” Yoongi confesses.

Now he feels sick. 

He feels like he’s giving you false hope and making Jimin look humane when he’s such a villain.

Fucking shit does Yoongi really want you to hate Jimin. 

Even if it was for a split second, he wants you to take a moment and feel a fraction of the rage he feels towards Jimin. His frustration, anger, and resentment should be yours. Yet, you’re you. You aren’t the type to get angry and regretful. You love what comes along and wish for the best when it’s time to let go. Rarely do you fall apart and therefore rarely do you need Yoongi.

He hates that.  

“Did you hit him?” you ask softly, trying your best to mask your concern. You wish for a no. You wish for an answer that won’t make you feel like you’d have to choose between the two. “... You shouldn’t hit your friends.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches. 

“No,” he chuckles as you let out a relieved breath. “I didn’t hit him. Was about to… But I thought about it. Mid-swing, I realize you’d probably be madder at me than him.” 

See, Yoongi has always been the nonchalant type. No one doubts how far his anger could drive him. Fortunately for everyone, he is a patient man. Nevertheless, his patience has a bad habit of fracturing whenever it comes to you. He always been protective of you. As for you; you expect better from him. You know he’s better than hateful actions. 

“Jimin told me you said you wanted space… He thought you told me.. That’s why he brought it up. Then, when he realized I didn’t know—he went full defense mode.”

You sigh. “Keep me updated, yeah? Jimin is still a good guy. He is still your friend.”

“Not a very good one if he’s fucking my best friend over.” Yoongi snaps. “You need to stop letting yourself be treated so poorly.”

You laugh. “Noted.”

For a moment, you two are okay. For a moment, Yoongi isn’t pissed and you aren’t hurt. You sink into the cozy feeling and decide to carry the conversation into a different direction. “Anyways, how are you?”

“No,” Yoongi says sternly. “___, we’re not doing that. I’m here for you. You’ve been avoiding me. You’ve been cheated on and—“

“Yoongi, I know what happened to me. It’s clear that you do too. We’ve established it so you don’t need to repeat it,” you snap. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He groans at you. 

In response, you throw your hands in the air and roll your eyes at him. “See? this is why I didn’t call you. God, I knew you’d do this.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and almost laughs at you. “Do what? Worry about you? That’s kind of what a friend is for. This is called a friendship. Me communicating and trying to protect you—this is shit men do. Something Jimin—“

“Stop it. He did communicate. I just wasn’t his choice. End of story.”

“And that’s the dumbest bullshit he could ever pull. I mean, how could anyone not choose you?”

“To each their own.”

“Fuck that and fuck him,” Yoongi scoffs. “I choose you.”

Your eyes widen and so does his when he realizes the words that fell out of his mouth. What happens now? It’s such an odd thing to say, no? Yoongi has never said anything like this to you before. When you look at him, you see his gaze had softened and even if there was a slightly panicked look on his face… There was also an underlying sense of relief.

It’s as if he had confessed a secret. 

You brush it off. Clearing your throat, you ask him; “A-are you done? Because I’m, uh, n-not in the mood for this. I don’t need you to—“

“To what? I didn’t come here to say ‘I told you so,’ ___. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Then why are you here?” you huff, beginning to feel more and more defeated.  “Just go, Yoongi. I want to be alone.”

“We can be alone together.” 

It’s then when you look up at him, eyes watering and feelings on the edge of a cliff. You take a deep breath. Holy shit, you’re so tired of this. You stand up but he catches your hand and pulls your body into his embrace. Before you can protest, he holds you tighter. 

“It’s me, ___. It’s us.” he comforts you. “Fall apart or go numb, whatever. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Unsure of what stirs in you—perhaps it’s the days worth of holding everything in—but tears begin to fall from your eyes. Your inhale is cut short and disrupted by a hitch and the ache in your chest. It takes over. It practically consumes you the moment you let it. 

“I hate how you can j-just—how y-you can get me like this,” you cry, poking his chest passive-aggressively. Soon, your hands form a fist and you’re beginning to hit his chest as light cries escape your lips. As predicted, the louder you begin to break, the slower and lighter you hit him. When you come to a stop, he places his hands on top of yours. “I hate you,” you mumble.

He hushes you and holds you as you begin to tremble.

Yoongi moves the two of you into your bed. He wraps his arms around you as you cuddle up to him while you continue to cry. His sweet nothings calm your cries. He holds you tighter to calm you. His hands are placed patting the top of your head or rubbing your back. While he does all this, Yoongi wonders what it would be like to hold you in a totally opposite situation. 

One where you’re happy and hung up on him. One where you don’t feel like shit and he’s just trying his best not to cross any lines. 

After a while, you finally calm down. His arms and wrist felt a little numb, but it was worth it. He tucks his chin to take a peek at your state. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is a little red from the crying… But you look relieved. You look like you could rest tonight and if he’s not mistaken, you also look a little sleepy. The truth is; you just feel safe. 

He does this so well. He holds you better than Jimin.

“I wanted to face it alone and deal with it.. Pretend like it didn’t matter and that I could handle it..” you say, eyes slowly fluttering closed. Your voice gets softer and sleepier. He hushes you, promising that you don’t need to explain yourself. “No, because… It’s like whatever I do.. I just feel so alone. I figured there was no point in calling you because honestly… I still feel empty with you here, Yoon. What do we do about that?” 

He wishes he had an answer. Yoongi wishes he could find the perfect words for you and form some sort of metaphor that could change your perspective on everything. He should’ve majored in English Lit or something. 

Although, he can’t say he’s not surprised or offended by how blunt you are. He knows you’re all about transparency. It’s probably why you’re still a little hung up on Jimin: he came clean. He had an honest conversation with you, which only complicated your feelings for him even more. Now, the issue wouldn’t just be on how you’d have to learn to unlove Jimin, rather it would have to do with your new perspective on honesty and trust. 

Is honesty really worth it? Is it really that good? From the looks of it; maybe some things are better left in the dark.

Yoongi knows it’ll take time for you to adjust to the pain, but a big part of him wishes you could let him in more. After all, you can’t heal what you won’t touch, right?

So he lies there, wondering to himself when could he ever be enough for you. It confused him how you still felt alone when he was giving his all to be here with you. How much closer did he have to be to get to your heart? 

Your face is buried into the crook of his neck. Your makeup was smudging over his shirt and his arms had already given out from holding you for so long still, he stays. He doesn’t dare move or feel the need to complain. This is what he gets—pieces of you that others leave behind.

No part of him gets it.

Yoongi will forever wonder why he’s the one who’s left to help you clean up when you could be with him and never need to feel like this. Don’t you know that you don’t need to be in a position of loving someone who gives you up like you’re a choice? Like you’re an option?

To Yoongi, there’s no choice when it comes to you. 

That’s what he has learned from being friends with you all these years. The irony is that he'll spend hours unending trying to convince you that being a second choice isn't worth it.

Yet, that's what he is to you.

The worst part is that even if he had a choice, he’d still choose to be in love with you. 

What do we do about that?

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ TRAINING MISHAPS

ryōmen sukuna & itadori yuuji x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , sparring , noncon biting

Notes — none

With a quick swing of her leg, a startled yelp tears from Itadori's throat, stumbling backward as he makes a futile attempt to catch his balance before ultimately falling onto his back.

"Got you!" Y/N calls playfully, extending a hand out to the boy as she stands over him. "You really need to work on your reaction time, Itadori."

"Senpai..." Itadori pouts, but still accepts her hand without hesitation as he hoists himself up.

"Don't look at me like that, you'll make me feel bad." Y/N jokingly complains, looking away from the boy as she spares a look upwards at the sky— noting how the sun was starting to sink beneath the horizon.

"Hmm~" Y/N hums to herself in consideration, not noticing how Itadori watches her in confusion.

Honey eyes glance to the side to find whatever she's looking at only to find nothing other than the warm canvas of colors peering over the rustling trees.

"All right! One more round— if you can beat me this time, I'll owe you a favor, 'kay?" Y/N declares excitedly, moving her gaze back to Itadori with a competitive glint in her eyes.

Itadori blinks in surprise, mildly taken aback before he matches her grin with one of his own, "You're on!"

Unfortunately for Itadori, he ended up in the same position as every other time, thrown onto the floor with Y/N standing over him, a smug yet not quite mocking look on her face.

"You did really well for a beginner, y'know?" Y/N offers as an attempt at comfort, helping Itadori back to his feet once again. "You've only been here for like, what, a month?"

"Thanks, Y/N-senpai..." Itadori sighs, offering a weak smile to her.

"Ah, well now I feel bad!" Y/N complains, the boy's expression looking no better than a kicked puppy's would.

"Just get some rest, okay? I'll help you train again tomorrow, promise!" Y/N raises her hand to pet the boy's head affectionately.

Itadori looks away in embarrassment, face burning as he quickly nods. "Alri—"

She startles as Itadori's eyes droop shut, knees buckling as his body falls forward— knocking against Y/N's as the two tumble down to the ground.

E/C eyes blink open and shut in surprise, staring up at the sky above her in confusion as she feels light puffs of breath against her neck, lips only inches above the skin.

"Itadori?" Even as the words left her mouth, Y/N couldn't help but feel they were wrong.

What's the deal with this kid again...? Y/N wonders, eyebrows furrowing in thought as she tries to remember what Gojo told her.

He's... ah, right, a vessel... or something like that. Y/N recalls, although the reminder doesn't prove to be of much use as she doesn't know how to get Itadori to switch back.

What even prompted the change? Y/N wonders, vaguely noting how the curse on top of her still doesn't do anything other than hover.

"...If you're not gonna do anything, at least give control back to Ita—" Y/N cuts herself off, mouth snapping shut with a 'click' as she feels sharp teeth— fangs, would be more accurate, in all honesty —dig into her neck.

Y/N blinks in stunned silence, unsure how to react as a tongue laps over the wound, soothing the mild pain that came from it.

She isn't sure how long she stayed stunned into silence— it felt like hours as she attempted to process what just happened, although it was likely only a couple of seconds —before the curse finally raised his head.

Blood stains his teeth as he runs his tongue over them, four red eyes narrowed as he stares down at her, searching for something within her confused expression. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, because only a moment later a satisfied grin curls across his face.

Y/N doesn't get the chance to even open her mouth and ask why before his eyes widen— the top set flashing back to yellow as the bottom set unwillingly closes once again.

"Senpai! I, uh, sorry!" Itadori quickly backs away, scurrying off the girl as he bows his head till it touches the ground.

"...Well," Y/N starts with an ever-confused look, sitting up as one hand rubs at the bite mark on her neck absentmindedly, relieved to feel that it was no longer bleeding.

"Maybe focus on getting better control over... whoever your curse is before any more training." Y/N suggests, Itadori nodding along hurriedly as he raises his head.

Itadori's face turns red at the sight of the bite mark as he ducks his head down again, both as an apology and to hide his fluster. "I'm sorry!"

"Ah, don't... uh, don't worry about it." Y/N offers, although her words aren't convincing to even herself as she shakes her head.

"Just go get some rest, okay? I won't tell anyone about the switch today, just try not to let it happen again." Y/N sighs, not wanting to bother with reporting this— it's not like it's his fault, after all.

Besides, the curse didn't actually harm anyone, so she supposes it's fine to let it slide this once.

"A-Alright! Thank you!" Itadori agrees, quickly rising to his feet, bowing once more as an apology before quickly running past her.

Hearing a faint whisper as Itadori passes her, Y/N glances back at Itadori over her shoulder, confused to find the quickly hitting the side of his face before whispering insults to the back of his hand.

Huh... Y/N stares at the boy owlishly as he walks back into the school, standing in silence for a moment.

She should probably tell Gojo about this...

Y/N pauses at the thought, considering it for a passing moment before shrugging to herself. Oh well, no harm no foul.

Although she should probably find Ieiri and get her to heal the bite on her neck...

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