#it’s not the first time she’s grabbed it
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danwhobrowses · 1 day ago
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Sometimes love is planning on having a cosy cottage when the dust has settled, sometimes love is kissing the person you want to be with before a big battle and seeing where things go from there, and sometimes love is swiping a bag of shrooms from a cow man and letting the other know that you'd do any and every crazy thing they want with them
and all of them are valid
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rafeysbunny · 3 days ago
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‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron
stepbro!rafe x fem!reader
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synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.
warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.
word count. 4k.
author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!
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it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.
it's the perfect moment.
rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.
you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.
rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.
well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...
you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.
the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.
how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.
before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.
how are you supposed to know which one to pick?
you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.
"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"i��� this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.
"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"
your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."
"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.
rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.
rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "I'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
"rafe," you whimper.
rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
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classyrbf · 1 day ago
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IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time
INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.
“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.
“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.
“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.
“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.
“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”
“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.
“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”
You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.
Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”
“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. ��Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.
“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.
“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.
“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”
“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”
“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.
“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.
“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.
“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.
“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”
“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.
“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.
“Let me go, Satoru.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.
You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.
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kngrose · 2 days ago
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sevika general headcanons 𝜗𝜚
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WARNINGS: 18+, sexual content, mommy kink, biting, squirting, slapping, spit play, degradation, dacryphilia, ignoring safe words, implied age gap, sevika is mean
AN: i got carried away… ;] not proof read!
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SFW
Initially, she wanted nothing to do with you.
Like at all.
Once she realized that her feelings for you were anything more than platonic, she wanted to throw you off the piltover bridge.
She was so incredibly frustrated with herself because, how did she let this happen?!
You’ll definitely notice she starts smoking a hell of lot more frequently and spends most—if not all—of her free time in the brothel— anywhere you’re not around.
But of course, she can only run from her feelings for so long, and she eventually caves; letting you in.
Because of her upbringing, she has quite a hard time adjusting to having a girlfriend.
If its not anger, she has a hard time expressing herself. And if she’s not angry and it’s something trivial? More often than not she’ll end up accidentally hurting your feelings with her harsh tone.
One time, when the two of you had started dating, she’d asked you, "Have you ever done this before?” and it shocked you because you didn’t know if she was implying something or—
When you’d sputtered back a flushed, “Done, what?” she rolled her eyes and retorted, "Had a girlfriend, dumbass." Her tone stern but not necessarily angry. Later, she would have to console you after you admitted she’d hurt your feelings.
She swears she doesn’t mean to— that’s just how she talks!
Not to mention her heavy handedness??? Like omg.
She’s so heavy handed.
You’ll end up with tiny bruises scattered everywhere because of how hard she’ll grab your hand or your arm.
When she places a hand on your lower back to guide you it’ll feel more like a shove.
She has this cute little habit of kicking your legs under the table—for fun or to get your attention— and she swears it’s a soft little nudge.
But when you show her the red and purple blotches afterwards, she’ll relent.
It’ll take her a while, but she learns.
She learns to be more gentle and handle you with care.
She’ll also learns how to recieve love and affection!
It was quite foreign for her, like it would be for most people in the undercity. At first it made her uncomfortable— the constant little touches, the chaste kisses to the cheek, the hugs.
You’ll notice that she’s super standoffish when you do these things. Just staring at you with this unreadable expression.
It’s not that she didn’t like it, she just wasn’t used to it, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it.
Don’t be misconstrued though, because once she solidifies the idea that this is normal behavior, she’ll be all over you.
I headcannon that her biggest display of affection is physical touch. She just loves to touch you in any way possible.
If you’re sitting on a couch or a bench, personal space is not an option. She’s presses herself right up against you, thighs touching and all.
If you’re going for a walk, she’s holding your hand or your wrist. Sometimes she’ll even wrap her hand around the back of your neck.
If you’re sitting at a table she’s got a hand on your thigh, or wrapped around your ankle when you cross your legs.
Loves to just play with your fingers or lay her head in your lap. Please play with her hair!! She’ll grab your hands and place them on her head if you don’t, grumbling at you for not already doing your “job”.
I also think she would just love quality time, because she’s clingy! The two of you don’t even have to talk, as long as you’re there she’ll be content with just sitting in silence and enjoying your company. And if she’s not busy, you always have hers.
She wants to do everything with you, laundry, shopping, studying, napping— all of it. She would sit in the bathroom while you poop, if you’d let her.
She hates leaving you alone, and despises when you leave her side. “It’s too dangerous out here, Darlin’…” is what she says everytime, “Who’s gonna protect you?”
She’s got a long list of petnames for you. More often than not you’ll hear:
“Darlin’..” “Baby..” “Pretty girl…”
Flying from her mouth with whatever little things she says. Sometimes when she’s feeling playful, she’ll name you after whatever you have on at the moment.
For instance if you’re wearing glasses, she’ll call you glasses. If you’ve got on a button up, she’ll call you button.
She won’t ever admit it but she’ll appreciate it greatly if you have your own pet names for her aswell. They’ll make her look away in the efforts that you don’t see the giddy smirk that she swallows.
She can’t have you knowing you make her all soft.
Speaking of which.
She’s the definition of “grumpy”. Like everything she does, she has to grumble about it. Want her to grab the remote? Fine, she’ll do it, but she’s going to grumble the whole time. Grab your jacket? Ok, cool, but you’re gonna hear this grumbling monologue, something about how you, “Couldve grabbed it yourself..”
She’s definitely the type to say “No.” when you ask her to do something, and then do it anyway.
She loves to pretend that she’s stone cold but she’s actually a huge softie when it comes to her little gf! (wife)
She loves to just look at you. Would definitely make others say, “Wow, look how she’s looks at her—”
Multiple times day you’ll catch her just idly staring at you, and it makes you self conscious— starting to touch at your hair and clothes. When you question her about it she’ll just say, “What? I can’t look at my pretty girl?” and kiss the corner of your lips.
She listens to you so intently, like she’s hanging onto every word, and blinks slowly at you like a cat. If you’re venting and just want her to listen? You got it. Come take a seat on her lap and she’ll hear everything you have to say; rubbing circles on your back with one hand, and holding yours with the other, just looking up at you with the occasional, “Mhm..”
And if you wanna talk about something silly? Go right ahead! She’ll listen all the same, offering her two cents every now and then or a soft chuckle. She’ll never turn down an opportunity to hear your voice.
She loves when you ask to arm wrestle
Likes to watch you try to pull her arm down with two of yours, smiling softly at your efforts before kissing your forehead and saying, “Better luck next time, princess.”
Don’t even try with an actual wrestling match— she tosses you around so easily, it makes you embarrassed. It slips your mind sometimes, her brute strength, because you’ve gotten so used to her being soft with and around you.
But when she pounces, pinning you in all of five second— without an ounce of a struggle— let’s just say it’s always a humbling experience. “My baby’s gotta get stronger,” She’ll always say, beforing tossing you over her shoulder with a chuckle.
She loves to give you random little kisses. Some on your cheeks, a few where your neck meets your shoulder. Behind your ears, on the palm of your hands. Every last one of your knuckles. Of course your precious lips.
She loves your lips. Loves when you get all done up and pretty so she can watch you put lip gloss on; before she messes it up by kissing you so she can watch you do it again. “Oh, don’t fuss at me,” She’ll smirk from behind you, watching you redo your lipstick in the mirror. “Just wanna kiss my pretty girl…” She’s kisses your cheek. You’re better off doing your makeup when she’s not around… if she’s ever not around.
And when you tell her you love her for the first time, she smiles softly, "I love you too." Sevika says gently, "I just don't quite understand what you see in me." The crimeboss chuckles, "A big, rough, hardened criminal.. doesn't exactly seem like a popular relationship choice, darlin'." She teases, looking down at you with a crooked grin.
Her grin softens into a look of admiration as you explain that the love you have for her is beyond those things, because you knows she’s more than that. "You see into me like no one else." She admits quietly, "You see past the walls, and the mask, and even the facade." She continues, "You see all the pieces I work so hard to keep covered up." Sevika adds on, chuckling softly as she looks down at you. "You're the only one who does that, y'know?" She admits, "You're the only one I allow to see me for who I really am."
NSFW
Come, come. Let’s discuss.
There’s so many things that really get Sevika going, and with you as her pretty little girlfriend, it doesn’t take much. She won’t admit it, but in those moments where she’s just staring at you, she picturing the most ungodly scenes. It gets worse once you realize how often it is you catch her staring.
She can’t help it. She’s always riddled with flash backs of you getting slutted out. While she’s working at the brothel, playing poker, having meetings with Silco— it doesn’t matter. It’ll just randomly cross her mind and she’ll realize: she can’t wait to come home.
Sevika loves it when you call her Mommy. It makes her feel powerful. It strokes her ego. It gives her a warm fluttering feeling in her chest everytime you let it slip from your lips. Often times, she’ll like to make you repeat yourself, just so she can hear you say it over and over and over again.
She loves to bite and she loves to be bitten. It’s something so primal about it that warms up her core and makes her soak. She’ll let out deep rumbles when you bite into her arm or shoulder, never applying too much pressure. She’s told you before that you don’t have to hold back, but you always do. She doesn’t.
You see, Sevika likes to fluctuate. Not between top and bottom, but hard and soft.
Sometimes she wants to be so gentle with you. Kissing you passionately, hugging you tight, caressing you all over, giving you slow deep thrusts so she can show you how much she really loves you.
Other times she wants to be rough. She wants to toss you around, and pull your hair. Leave marks and choke you until you can’t breathe. Impose on you with her harrowing size and strength.
It’s even better when she finds the middle ground.
She’ll always ease you into everything, just to make sure you’re on the same page.
When she’s feeling particularly soft, she’s loves to service you. She’ll lay you on your back and kiss you everywhere, she likes to see how worked up it’s gets you. Pressing soft wet kisses down your neck and chest, undressing you as she does so.
And she’ll smirk as you’re left in your underwear, leaning down to press a soft kisses against your stomach. She’ll move lower, kissing your hips and your thighs before kissing your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. "I'm gonna take these off, that okay, Baby?" She’ll ask, already knowing your answer, her fingers toying with the waistband.
And she will laugh, seeing how you eagerly nod your head, a breathless, “Yes, Mommy.” falling from your pretty lips. She’ll hum to herself lowly. God, She loves it when you call her that. And she’ll free you of your panties because, how could she resist such a sweet plea?
And once she sees how wet your pussy is, she’ll whistle, “Phew, what’s got my baby so worked up?” And run her fingers over your slit, gathering up the mess on her fingers to taste. Sevika will eat your pussy for hours. And please don’t test this theory— because you’ll regret it.
It doesn’t matter if you buck your hips away, she’ll just wrap her arms around your hips effectively locking them down, and continue to have her way. “Let Mommy eat, pretty..” She’ll chastise, and you’ll have no choice but to oblige.
And when she’s done eating your pussy, she’ll position you to sit in front of her and lean on her bare chest so she can fuck you with her fingers until you squirt all over them. She loves the access she has here. She gets to kiss all over your neck and shoulders and rub at your nipples, all the while pressing her palm against your clit while her fingers press against that spongey spot inside you.
And don’t even think about telling her you can’t take anymore, because it’ll fall on deaf ears. She’ll swallow up your pleas in a sweet kiss, telling you, “Nonsense, Baby. Mommy knows you can handle s’more..” Trust me, when she’s feeling soft, she’ll never take you beyond your means. She knows her princess.
She’ll kiss you so passionately you both never want to stop, rutting her pussy against yours precisely. You just know she’s had some practice. She likes to look deep into your eyes, holding you there by your cheeks the whole time. Pressing her forehead against yours while she whispers to you.
“My pretty baby… you feel s’good..” She’ll murmur against yours while she lips, before sucking on them sweetly. She’s so sweet when she’s soft.
But when she’s hard: She’s nasty.
Filthy and vulgar, and driven by nothing but the urge to ruin. In these times, it’s hard to get through to her. Nothing you say will get through her head unless it’s, “Yes, Mommy” or a direct response to what she’s just ordered you to do.
Keyword ordered.
She’ll have you stripped in record timing, gripping both of your wrists harshly, pinning them above your head, “These stay here, Understand?” She’ll say, her tone authoritive with no room for argument. And you’ll nod your head like a good girl for her.
When she spreads your legs, that’s where they better stay, otherwise she’ll slap your pussy, hard, and that’ll just be your first warning. She’ll grill you down with a hard stare, and you’ll know not to make that mistake again.
She’ll bring two fingers to your lips, and tap against them. "Open up for Mommy, baby." She’ll order, tone stern. And when you do, she’ll fuck your throat with those fingers, feeling you gag and watching the spit slide down your throat. And she’ll lick it all up just to spit it back in your mouth. “Good girl…” She’ll purr.
When she’s like this, she has a dark look in her eyes. It’s a primal look, and if you glance away too quickly you’ll miss it. She’s likes to fuck you hard during these times, hardly any qualms for your limits.
She’ll always have her handy strap prepared and waiting. Thick and long and heavy. She likes it that way. She likes to feel like the man.
She’ll grin, somewhat cruelly, and her eyes will meet yours in a flirtatious wink. "You like the view, pretty girl?" Sevika asks softly, her hand gently stroking the toy in her hand, like it’s a real dick, getting it all wet with lube. And how could you not? Her cut physic on full display, muscled and scared… so manly.
Sevika will take you through so many positions, you won’t have the energy to roll over in your sleep at night. She’ll take you in missionary first, “Mommy’s gonna break you in now, Baby.” She’ll growl, and she’ll keep her promise, bottoming out in one single thrust. Hard. She loves that look of pain that washes over you. She’ll wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze as she ruts into you.
She’ll fuck you like she hates you, but you know it’s all love when she’s slapping your face, and filling your mouth with her fingers.
And when she thinks that’s not enough? She’ll grip the back of your legs and push them up to your chest, effectively folding you up before drilling into you. She’s got you in a mating press.
And she’ll chuckle away at the tears that form in your eyes, your moans flying out in a mantra. She’ll grin down at you, her lips pulling back into a cocky smirk. "Yeah, good girl.." There’s a lewd slapping that fills the room. "How does that feel, sweet girl?" She’ll ask, sticking her fingers down your throat again, "Is Mommy hitting all the right spots, baby?"
And this’ll go on until she’s made you cum a few times. She likes to watch the expression on your face when you come undone, tears falling from your eyes.
But don’t think your done, no, she’s just getting started.
She’ll pull out and physically toss you over, shoving your head down with brute force and pulling your ass up. She’ll push her dick back in, slowly so you feel it. “S’good right?” She’ll ask, “Mommy filling you up?” and she’s back to drilling you like she never stopped.
She’ll lean over you, wrapping a muscular arm around your throat and putting you in a headlock. She’ll snicker evily in your ear as you cry out at the new angle, “Ohhh, Mommy’s fucking you good, huh? Right there?” She’ll tease, beating that spot in relentlessly.
If you get too loud she’ll have no choice but to squeeze that arm around your throat, snickering at the way you tap at her arm, “So pretty…” She’ll say in your ear, driving her hips into yours, “Tell Mommy how much you love her..”she’ll say, knowing you can’t respond. The drool will run down your chin and she’ll just lick it up, muttering, “Such a messy girl, huh?”
When shes feels her primal needs are satisfied, she’ll return back to that soft, loving “Sevi” that you know. Cleaning you up and giving you kissies. Rubbing all of your sore spots and telling you how much of a good girl you were.
And as you both cuddle in your shared bed, she’ll watch as you fall asleep on her chest, a small smile forming on her lips as she lets herself doze off as well. <3
please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list to be notified every time i post, xx
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covenofagatha · 1 day ago
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Sugar, spice, and everything nice (Part 1)
Hot, rich, lawyer Agatha comes into the bakery where you work and she takes quite an interest in you (or Sugar mommy Agatha)
Word count: 2000
Warnings: none yet
A/N: hope you guys like this one!
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The bakery is always dead on Sunday afternoons. 
You’re not really sure why, maybe people are getting ready for the week or something, but it seems that in the town of Westview, no one craves sweets on Sundays. 
You’re not complaining, though. That just means you get to sit in an empty store and scroll on your phone and still get paid. 
Working at the bakery part time was a nice way to make some money while you finish up college, and to be honest, you did really like it. Your coworkers were all super nice and it wasn’t a very demanding job either. 
And then the bell on the door rings. You look up from your phone, startled. 
It’s a woman that you’ve never seen before. 
She’s wearing a tight white blouse under a brown blazer and smart gray pants. Her long, dark hair flows freely over one shoulder and her pale skin and blue eyes are striking. She is attractive. 
It doesn’t help that you’ve always had a thing for older women. 
“Hi,” she says, coming to a stop in front of the counter. 
“Hi, what can I get for you today?” You ask the rehearsed question. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said it in your sleep at this point. 
“What do you recommend?” 
You’re not even sure she’s looked at the menu that’s posted above the counter. “Depends on what you like. We have cupcakes, cake, pastries. It’s all good. What are you in the mood for?” 
You might be imagining it, but it really seems like her eyes rake up and down your body. She shrugs noncommittally. “Something fresh, something…sweet.” You swallow hard at the glint of heat in her eyes. 
“I just took a batch of cupcakes out of the oven,” you say. “Do you like red velvet?” 
“Sure, hon. I’ll take three,” she says. You smile wearily and get to work packaging them up. She watches you the whole time. 
You ring up the purchase on the register and clear your throat. “That’ll be $7.50.” She smirks and pulls out her wallet, flipping through bills. She pulls one out and hands it to you and your mouth falls open. 
It's $50.
“Keep the change,” she says with a wink. She grabs the box and walks swiftly out of the bakery. 
You assume it’s a one-time thing and pocket the extra money. You secretly hope she comes back though. 
And sure enough, she struts back in three days later, dressed just as nicely as she was the first time. You’re working the morning shift before your afternoon class and you are sipping on a desperately needed cup of coffee. She must be really rich, you think as she walks up, a smile playing on her lips. 
“Morning, hon,” she says. 
“Good morning, how are you doing today?” 
“Better now,” she replies and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter. “Can I get an espresso and a piece of cinnamon crumb cake?” 
“Of course. Anything else?” 
She raises an eyebrow teasingly like she wants to make a joke but says, “That’s all, dear. Thank you.” 
“Your total comes to $8.75,” you tell her. “For here or to-go?”
“For here, please.”
“I’ll get you the cake and then the coffee will be ready soon.” 
When you turn back with the piece of cake on a plate, she’s holding another $50 bill between her fingers. 
“Oh, I can’t–” She cuts you off by putting it into your uniform shirt pocket and pats it. You freeze with her hand basically touching your boob. She smirks and takes the plate from your hand and goes to sit in a corner booth. You don’t allow yourself to look at her as you make her espresso. 
She’s on her phone when you walk over to her, but she looks up earnestly when you put the cup down in front of her. 
“Here’s your coffee,” you say and you’re turning around to go back behind the counter when she touches your wrist. 
“Why don’t you sit down?” She asks, and it’s clear she’s not asking. And even if she was, she’s tipped you almost more than you make in a day on two separate occasions. You plop down on the other side of the table. “How do you like working here?” 
“Oh, um, it’s nice. I enjoy it. Plus we get dessert for free so can’t complain,” you say, a little surprised by the question. 
“Are you still in college?” 
“Yeah, I’m graduating in the spring.” She nods like she’s deep in thought. “What do you do?” 
“I’m a lawyer,” she answers, confidence oozing from her voice. Her tipping so much makes a lot more sense now. You launch into a series of questions, absolutely fascinated by her words, and she gives you everything you want. 
You’re so engrossed in her stories that you almost miss the bell to the bakery ringing. You suddenly jolt and remember that you’re supposed to be working. 
“Sorry, excuse me,” you say hastily and dart back behind the counter. A man orders a croissant and a coffee and you get his order out quickly. You want to back over to the woman, but you feel like you shouldn’t, especially with the other customer in here now. You can feel her looking at you the whole time though. 
A few minutes later she walks back up to the counter and places her empty coffee cup and plate down. 
“Oh, thank you,” you say, surprised. You usually clean off the tables yourself. 
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes sweep over your face. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.” 
“I’ll be here,” you joke lamely but she smirks regardless. “I’m y/n.” 
“I know,” she responds, reaching over again to tap on the tag that clearly says your name. You blush furiously and fight the urge to hide your face in your hands. “I’m Agatha.” 
“Nice to meet you, Agatha,” you say, trying out her name on your tongue. You like how it sounds, how it feels. 
“Have a good day, hon.” Before you can tell her to have one too, she’s on her way out of the bakery, the bell announcing her departure. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. How is it that she can have this much effect on you after meeting her twice? 
You take the bill from your shirt pocket and put it in the register, collecting the change. Sure she’s rich, but she doesn’t have to be giving you this much money. 
So why is she? 
You spend the rest of the day thinking about Agatha. 
The next day, she comes strolling in at the exact same time. You’re doing some school work on your laptop and you hope you don’t visibly perk up as much as you feel. You wonder if those three days you didn’t see her between the first meeting and yesterday she had come by when you weren't on shift. 
But that’s a crazy thought, because surely she isn’t coming by just to see you. She orders the same thing: an espresso with a piece of cinnamon crumb cake. 
She gives you another crisp $50 bill.
“I know you have money to burn, being a fancy lawyer and all,” you tease. “But please don’t go broke buying coffee and cake.”  
She laughs melodically. “Doll, I’m not just buying coffee and cake, I’m thanking the excellent service.” And once again, she’s made you flush. You inwardly tell yourself that you need to stop letting her have such an effect on you. 
You get her the cake and she goes to sit down at the booth from yesterday and you begin making her coffee. You’re lost in thought, wondering if Agatha will invite you to sit with her again, when your hand shakes as you're pouring coffee from the pot to the cup and splashes onto your hand. 
You gasp loudly and drop the pot. It shatters all over the counter and soaks your laptop. 
“Oh, god, no!” You groan and rush to grab paper towels. You quickly sop up the mess from your laptop and carefully collect the pieces of glass. 
“Everything okay?” Agatha asks and you turn to find her standing at the counter again, a look of worry on her face. 
“Yeah, god, I’m sorry, I accidentally dropped the coffee,” you sputter. You throw the towels away and open up your computer, frantically pressing the power button.
It doesn’t turn on. 
With a defeated sigh, you close it and pinch the bridge of your nose. Of fucking course. You aren’t sure how you’re going to pay for a new laptop. 
“You okay?” Concern laces Agatha’s voice. 
You scoff and shrug. “There could not be a worse time for my computer to break. I have school work that needs to be done – I have an exam to take! And now I have to go find time to go to the store and buy a new one and ugh. It’s just so frustrating.” It feels good to vent and then you realize that you’re talking to basically a complete stranger. You straighten up. “Sorry, let me get a new pot and I’ll have that espresso right up.” 
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll get it next time.” She winks at you. 
“Next time it’s on the house,” you say. She laughs like it’s some sort of inside joke. Granted, if she keeps tipping like she does, you could buy yourself a new computer in no time. 
You still don’t know why she’s doing it. You open your mouth to say something, maybe ask her what she’s doing here, but she cuts you off. 
“I have to go. I’ll see you later?” She asks, sounding slightly hopeful. 
“You know where I’ll be,” you answer, feeling a longing pang in your chest as her face lights up at your cheesy comment. 
“Sorry about your laptop,” she adds before she sticks another $20 in the tip jar. You gape at her as she smirks and walks out. She is quite literally just throwing cash at you. 
And it doesn’t stop there either. 
You’re just about to finish up your shift when a man walks in, carrying a white plastic bag and a clipboard. 
“Y/n?” He asks, looking at a piece of paper. You affirm and he puts the bag on the counter in front of you. “Sign here, please?” You’re not quite sure what’s happening at all but you do as you’re told. 
Once he walks out of the bakery, you practically tear open the bag to see what’s in it. The first thing you find is a note. 
Hope this will suffice. Let me know if you like it. X, Agatha. And then a number at the bottom. Your mouth drops open and you go back into the bag and pull out a box. You take the top off and inside is a sleek, dark, new MacBook Air. Probably close to a thousand dollars.  
“Holy shit,” you mutter under your breath. You run your hands over the smooth cover and open it up. It blinks to life and you actually laugh out loud. 
Fucking Agatha. You’ve met her three times and she just bought you a brand new computer because you accidentally spilled coffee on yours just that morning. 
Speaking of the older woman. You pull out your phone and type the number into it. 
It’s y/n. Thank you so much for the laptop! You are literally a lifesaver. Is there anything I can do to repay you? I’d give you free coffee and cake for the rest of your life, but I might get fired. Thanks again!  You decide it’s a good mix of gratitude and humor and send it. 
Bubbles immediately appear and you wait with bated breath. 
Finally a response appears and heat courses through your veins. 
Of course, doll, it’s my pleasure. And don’t worry about paying me back just yet. I’m sure we’ll figure something out ;)
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Anyone want to be my sugar mommy lol
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cherrybr4t · 2 days ago
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ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)
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cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3
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if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.
not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.
you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.
that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.
he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.
“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.
seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.
“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.
“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.
seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.
the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.
without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.
“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.
cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.
“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.
you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.
“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.
you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?
he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.
“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.
“always have been, cheol.”
his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.
“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.
he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.
“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.
you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.
“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”
you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.
“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”
“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.
he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.
“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”
you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.
he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.
he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.
“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.
seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.
he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.
“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.
“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.
“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.
“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.
“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.
the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.
“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.
“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.
you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.
“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.
he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.
“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.
“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.
“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”
with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.
“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.
“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.
you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.
“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.
“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.
“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”
the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.
“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.
he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.
“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.
“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.
“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.
“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.
“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”
“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”
“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.
“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.
his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.
“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.
“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.
“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.
“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.
“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.
“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.
thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.
he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.
“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.
“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.
“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.
“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”
giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.
perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh
a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒
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chleem · 2 days ago
Text
Rest of my life
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One shot: bf drew x gf yn
Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  
Genre: established relationship, fluff
Warnings: so sweet u get cavities
⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me
⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Which girl did you knock up?” 
Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 
Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."
There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 
Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 
“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 
Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 
Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 
He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”
Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”
“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 
Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”
A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”
“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 
Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 
Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 
“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 
“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.
Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”
“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 
“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 
You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 
——
Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 
Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.
He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 
He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 
And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.
He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 
Instead, he freezes. 
There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 
Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 
His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.
The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 
The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.
What is this feeling? He thinks.
He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.
Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.
“Drew?” 
Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 
Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 
“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”
He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.
“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 
“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 
Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 
You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 
“Y/n?”
You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 
“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 
Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 
You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 
For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 
Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 
Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.
You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”
“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”
“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 
“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 
You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.
This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 
You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 
Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 
The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 
-------------------------------
word count: 1.5k
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T
and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry
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dissapointu · 3 days ago
Text
Arcane characters walking in on you changing
Jinx
You’re in the middle of pulling on your shirt when you hear the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open.
“Oops, didn’t knock!” Jinx’s voice rings out in a tone that’s almost too casual, a wicked grin on her face as she steps into the room, eyes flicking to your figure before immediately turning away.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh, invade your privacy…” She’s clearly trying to be respectful, but the mischief in her tone is hard to ignore.
You raise an eyebrow, and before you can say anything, Jinx is already giggling. “Though, not gonna lie, you look awesome. Totally wasn’t expecting that,” she says, turning her face to avoid looking back, though you can see her trying to sneak a peek from the corner of her eye.
Vi
Vi knocks twice, but the sound of your muttered frustration must’ve made her think it was an invitation.
She enters and freezes mid-step as her eyes land on you, mid-change. You both lock eyes, and for a second, she stands there awkwardly, her usual confidence faltering.
“Oh, uh, my bad!” She clears her throat, stepping back, but her eyes stay on you for just a moment longer than necessary. “Next time, I’ll knock twice. Promise.”
You can’t help but chuckle at how flustered she looks. Vi rubs the back of her neck, muttering, “You know, I’m definitely not complaining,” before she’s quickly out the door, cheeks flushed.
Sevika
The door swings open, and you don’t have time to react before Sevika is standing there, taking in the sight of you mid-change. Her expression doesn’t shift much—she’s too composed for that—but her eyes flicker briefly over your form.
“Well, you’re quick to get out of that, huh?” she comments dryly, arms crossed over her chest. There’s a small glimmer of approval in her gaze, though she hides it well.
You can’t help but laugh, and she smirks in response. “I’ll let you finish,” she says, her tone nonchalant, though you can tell she’s respecting your space, already stepping back out of the room.
“Next time, lock the door,” she adds with a wink.
Silco
You’re reaching for a shirt when the sound of footsteps reaches your ears, followed by a slow, deliberate knock. But before you can even call out a warning, the door creaks open.
“I thought you’d be dressed by now,” Silco murmurs with a raise of his brow, his eyes cool as always, though his expression softens just a little as he catches sight of you. He doesn’t flinch or show embarrassment—his calm demeanor is unwavering.
For a moment, you just stand there, both of you caught in a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I can leave, if you’d like,” he offers, voice smooth as silk, though there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.
You quickly grab something to throw on, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “You should knock next time,” you mutter.
He smirks, his lips curling at the corners. “I will, but you know I’m not bothered by it.”
Vander
The door gently opens, and you’re halfway through changing when you hear his voice.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Vander stands in the doorway, his warm, concerned eyes scanning you before looking away. He’s clearly embarrassed, stepping back a few paces.
You feel the heat rise to your face as you hurriedly finish putting on your shirt, and he clears his throat, clearly giving you space.
“I’ll just be out here… waiting. Take your time.” His voice is a comforting rumble, and you can hear the hint of concern in his tone, but he respects your privacy.
“I’ll lock the door next time,” you mutter, embarrassed but comforted by his calm demeanor.
Ekko
Ekko’s voice calls through the door, “You decent?” But before you can respond, he opens it just a crack, and then his eyes widen as he sees you mid-change.
“Oh! Uh… my bad!” He quickly shuts the door again, but not without a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “I wasn’t expecting that! You good?”
You hear him shuffling nervously on the other side, and you can’t help but chuckle. “You really should knock first, you know.”
“I know, I know,” he says, his voice muffled through the door, “I swear I’m trying to be a gentleman!”
Jayce
Jayce knocks twice before entering, but the sound of your shirt rustling catches his attention. He steps in and freezes, his eyes wide as they land on you.
“Oh, sorry! I—” His voice cracks a little, and he quickly turns to face the door, though his ears are red. “I should’ve waited for a response.”
You smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s fine, Jayce. You didn’t know.”
He takes a deep breath, still facing away. “Next time, I’ll wait. Promise.”
“Okay,” you respond, and there’s an awkward pause before you hear him mumble, “But you look really… nice.”
Victor
Victor knocks lightly, his usual calmness in place, but when he enters and finds you mid-change, his eyes widen and his face flushes, but he doesn’t avert his gaze immediately.
“Apologies,” he mutters, stepping back quickly. His hands go to his face in embarrassment. “I wasn’t aware you were—”
You pull your shirt down and quickly try to cover up, your cheeks flushed. “It’s fine, Victor. Just, maybe knock louder next time?”
“Of course, yes,” he stammers, clearly flustered, though you can hear him fighting a smile. “I’ll… I’ll take care to be more considerate.”
Caitlyn
Caitlyn knocks, but when she hears no response, she opens the door just slightly to see if you’re okay. The sight of you changing immediately has her halting in her tracks, and she looks up, clearly embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, her hands raised in a half-apologetic gesture, but she doesn’t back away immediately. “I should’ve waited for you to answer.”
You laugh softly, trying to ease her nerves. “It’s okay, Caitlyn. I wasn’t expecting you to just walk in.”
“I’ll be more careful next time,” she says, her face a deep shade of red, before she adds with a grin, “Though you do look incredible, I’ll admit that.”
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scorpiosbite · 22 hours ago
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when actress!reader and drew met for the first time
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── it's your first time in LA, so when your new friend madelyn cline invites you to a club in downtown LA with the rest of her obx castmates, who are you to decline.
𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey
author’s note: this takes place in mid-2024 after the filming of obx 4 wrapped.
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you stared at your reflection in the luxurious bathroom mirror, your makeup was light and your hair was straightened and open. yet you felt a bit like that saying 'a pig in makeup.' dressed in a sheer, white, long-sleeve top, a black lace bra underneath, clearly showing through, and black shorts paired with itno biker boots. your fingers, filled with chrome heart rings, sliver earrings of various jewellery brands covering your ears, yet your neck is still bare.
you sigh heavily, being racked with anxiety like this before going out was common for you. there was a reason you barely left your london home except for work. and now, here in LA for the first time and without mimi, your best friend who is the polar opposite of you and the only person who is capable of making you feel calm in these situations, you feel as though you are going to make a fool out of yourself. it's not like you don't want to meet madelyn and the rest of the obx cast, you really do, and you want to make a good impression which is why your anxiety feels worse than normal. the world sees you as this confident enigma, but only you experience this feeling of dread weighing down on your chest that tells you that you aren’t capable of more difficult roles, that you don’t deserve the fame and love given to you, that you aren’t hardworking or beautiful enough, that if people saw the real you, they would hate what they see. this feeling, this voice is the reason you’re so recluse.
but before you can spiral any further your phone rings. madelyn's name lights up the screen. you pick up, clearing your throat, trying to settle the shake in your voice to hide your nervousness. "hi, maddie" you can hear the smile on her face through her response. "hi, y/n!! are you ready? i'm on the way to your hotel, i'll be there in like 10 minutes." the excitement in her voice eases your anxiety. maddie had dmed you on instagram a few months ago after seeing an interview of yours where you named outer banks as the show you watch during your free time while filming and since that moment the two of you became fast friends. so when you told her you were going to be in LA for the first time for work, she enthusiastically invited you to come hang out with her and her castmates. "yea, i'm ready, i'll come down to the lobby." you end the call and then rush around the room grabbing your bag and filling it with everything you may need, before giving your face and outfit a final check in the mirror before making your way to the lobby.
madelyn texted you that her car was parked outside the entrance when you reached the lobby and the hotel staff let you know that there was no paparazzi outside so you walked outside where madelyn’s driver had the backseat door open for you, you thanked him and hoped into the car and he walked back to the drivers seat and and started driving. madelyn’s smiling face greeted you. “hi, wow you look fucking stunning. it’s so good to finally meet you!” you gave her a bright smile in return. “thank you, you look unreal, and yes it’s so good to finally meet you too!” you gave her a tight hug. “fuck, y/n what perfume do you use, you smell amazing.” “aw, thank you! it’s the kayali vanilla one, babes.” madelyn laughed “what?” you gave her a confused laugh “ the ‘babes’ you’re so british!” you laughed and nodded “i forget that there’s terms we use that aren’t common here.”
madelyn pulled out her phone and started checking something, so you took the time to look out the window and take in LA during the night. “ok so chase is there, so is laci, madison, jd, austin and drew.” you felt your breath hitch at the mention of his name. “drew’s there?” madelyn gave you a knowing smirk. “yea, he’s coming.” you raised a brow. “what was that smirk for?” she shrugged and gave you a downward smile “you’ll see.” before you could question her further, the car came to a stop in front of the club. “we’re here miss cline.” madelyn’s driver spoke up from his seat and then stepped out of the car coming around and opening the door for the both of you, you hopped out first and thanked him and waited while madelyn got out. she thanked him and then he drove off.
madelyn interlocked your hands together “excited?” you laughed at her excitement. “yea, let’s get a shot in me.” the atmosphere of the club was electric, the people around you were dancing and having the time of their lives. seeing everyone around you, you felt the anxiousness start to melt from your body. madelyn was looking around to find her friends her hand still holding yours. “oh! i see them! let’s go!” she dragged you behind her, coming to a stop at the end of the table. everyone greeted you with bright smiles “guys! this is y/n. but you all already know that” she said in a singsong voice. “we’re all big fans of you.” you smiled shyly with everyone’s attention on you. “hi.” you gave a little wave. your eyes immediately locked with drew’s, even sitting down he towered over everyone. you felt your breathe hitch and your limbs numb. you were suddenly pulled into hugs one by one by everyone else, you muttered greetings but it felt like an out of body experience as your eyes refused to stray from drew’s.
drew felt like he couldn’t breathe, he had spent so many months dreaming of this moment when he would finally see you in person. and all he could think was that the screen could never do justice to you. your energy, your beauty in real life was unmeasurable. “hi, i’m drew.” you smiled at him, a saccharine smile that made his heart stutter. “i know.” you took a seat next to him on the table while austin and jd went to get shots for the table “so y/n, what do you think of LA?” madison asked “it’s quite different to london.” you laughed. you were having trouble focusing as drew’s thigh kept bumping into yours the size of his one leg, bigger than both of yours. you thought about how badly you wanted him to use his size and strength against you. if he would throw you and bend you to his will, you clenched your thighs together at the thought.
jd and austin returned with the shots and everyone’s energy immediately skyrocketed. you all grabbed a shot. “let’s have a good fucking night! whoo!!” chase yelled and you all clinked your glasses and downed your drinks. everyone winced but you weren’t phased “what!! how did you not feel that!” austin yelled over the music that had somehow gotten louder. “that was straight tequila!” you shrugged with a smug smile on your face “i’m british, darling, you americans can’t keep up!” you laughed. drew beside you, had a look on his face that was somehow both impressed and turned on. “oh my god! i fucking love this song.” you exclaimed beginning to feel the alcohol travel through your system taking with it the inhibitions that often consumed you. “dance with me?” madelyn asked and you nodded your head. she grabbed your hand but before she could drag you behind her you turned your head and mouthed to drew “watch me.”
drew’s throat felt constricted, his pants were becoming impossibly tight. you were grinding on madelyn and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you’re mesmerising and he had to have you. it felt as though time had slowed down and the two of you were the only people in the crowded club. “come on man, let’s go dance.” jd clapped drew on the shoulder. he got up and began making his way to the centre of the dance floor, his eyes still locked on you.
your eyes were closed and you were completely lost in the music when you felt madelyn whisper in your ear from behind. “drew’s walking over, don’t tell him i told you this, but he’s into you.” your eyes snapped open but before you could question her, drew was standing in front of you, towering over everyone in the club. everyone else present faded away as you took in his presence. he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “wanna dance on me like that?” you giggled. “you wish.” he smirked down at you. the alcohol you had consumed throughout the night made you bold and carefree and you used it’s effects on you to the fullest. you wrapped your arms around his neck and he brought his hands to your waist. one of his hands covered the entirety of the small of your back.
drew’s head felt dizzy, you smelt so good he wanted to drag his tongue across every inch of the surface of your body. he leaned down to your neck inhaling the scent of your perfume and pheromones. “fuck, you smell amazing.” you smirked “yeah? want a taste?” drew threw his head back his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “fuck, y/n, don’t say shit like that.” you leaned up on your tippy toes so that you could whisper in his ear. “why not?” you came back down so that you could gaze back up at him, your eyes big and wide, innocent, like you weren’t thinking all the disgusting things you wanted him to do to you. “you don’t wanna fuck me, drew?”
you giggled as you unlocked the door to your hotel room, drew, hot on your heels. as soon as the door was open drew picked you up and you giggled drunkenly wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. drew’s hands came to grip on your thighs squeezing at the flesh as he devoured your lips with his, teeth and tongue clashing. you moaned into the kiss, your hands scratching at his buzzed head. drew reached out behind you and pushed the door shut. the sound of it echoing through the room but the both of you couldn’t care less. your lace panties were soaked all the way through and you could feel his cock straining through his pants, drew broke the kiss. “you feel what you do to me, baby?” you hummed in agreement already feeling fucked out even though he hadn’t even properly touched you yet “been hard from the moment i saw you walk through the door.”
“need you so bad, drew” you whined, not even caring if you sounded desperate, he was more desperate than you anyway. “yeah? need me that bad, baby? need me in that pretty little pussy?” you nodded, biting your lip “wanna be full of you.” drew groaned “fuck, you trying make cum in my pants y/n?” you giggled. drew began to make his way to the bed, with you still in his arms. he dropped you onto the plush bed and you bounced on the mattress. “are you sober enough to do this? cause i don’t want you to regret this in the morning.” you shook you head frantically. “no, i want you, i’m just tipsy, i told you i have a high tolerance.” he laughed, a low rumble that caused your core to flutter. “that you did, baby.” you spread your legs open to make room for him and he began to unzip your boots and pull off your socks before kicking off his own shoes.
drew kneeled on the edge of the bed, leaning down to attach himself to your neck, biting, licking, and sucking at the skin. your moans were breathy, almost sigh like at the feeling of his lips. his hands brushed at your waist, tugging at the hem of your sheer top. “let me see you.” he pulled the top off, messing up your hair as it went over your head. he then moved to your shorts tugging them down your legs, leaving you in your matching black, lace bra and black, lace thong. “fuck, you’re unreal, i can’t believe you’re here right now.” you giggled at his words. “you’re sweet.” he chuckled and he leaned back down to kiss you. “yeah? i’m sweet, baby?” “mhmm.” you nodded as he connected your lips together again. you kissed him back with ferocity. tugging his bottom lip with your teeth, your hands stroked his covered chest, and you broke the kiss, your lips still so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “take off your clothes.”
drew groaned and his face dropped into your neck, before he stood up off the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, moving to his pants unbuttoning them and then pushing them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. your mouth hung open when you saw the size of his bulge through his boxers and the wet patch forming on the material. you sat up on the bed and tugged him closer to you by the waistband of his boxers, licking his clothed bulge. “poor baby, so hard, do you need me to help you?” drew whimpered, nodding his head. “need you so bad, pretty girl.” you chuckled, “want me so bad don’t you, drew?” drew’s hips bucked in response a look of pure desperation on his pretty face, oh, you were gonna ruin him. leave him a mess so that the only person he would ever want was you.
you pushed down his boxers freeing his length. his massive cock snapped up, slapping his stomach, the red tip leaking pre cum. your mouth watered at the sight of him, he’s gorgeous. “you’re so pretty and big, drew.” drew whimpered “fuck, you gonna suck me off, gorgeous?” you hummed your hand coming up to the base of his cock, stroking languidly. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” drew groaned, his hand curling into a fist by his side, like he was trying desperately not to force your mouth onto him. he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, you parted your lips and began leaving open mouth kisses on his tip. alternating between sucking and kissing, drew groaned from above you, his hand finally coming up to tangle in your hair, never pushing or pulling just resting. such a gentleman you thought, but you wanted him to snap, to use you.
you breathed through your nose and then took his entire length into your mouth, your nose pushing into the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock. drew let out a loud groan that reverberated through the room. “fuck! y/n!” you hummed and then swallowed around his length, your tongue still rubbing the underside of his cock, before you pulled off of him to catch your breath. but before you could resume your ministrations, drew placed a hand under your chin, tilting your head up. you looked up at him with a fucked out expression and he look even more fucked out than you. “i’m gonna need to prep you, so get on your back for me, baby.” you giggled excitedly, drew reached behind you and unclipped your bra with ease and practised skill before you laid down onto the soft mattress.
your hair splayed around you like a halo, you cheeks flushed and a daze in your eyes as you gazed up at drew. he leaned over you on the bed, one hand placed by your head and the other stroking your thigh. “i’m gonna take you out after this.” you raised a brow, “oh yeah? what makes you think i’m gonna say yes?” drew smirked at you, he did love a challenge. “alright, if i make you cum three times, you have to go out with me. deal?” you hummed, mulling over the proposition. “you’re on, starkey.” drew leaned down and began kissing and biting your neck, then your shoulders then finally your tits, sucking at your nipple and squeezing the other one with his large palm. “been thinking about feeling these since the moment i saw them on my tv.” he mumbled against the flesh. you could only respond in moans. “fuck, drew!”
drew continued his way down till he was face to face with your lace covered soaked core, he nuzzled his face into your clothed pussy, inhaling deeply. “fuck, you smell amazing.” you whined impatiently, bucking your hips. drew chuckled and hooked his fingers into the band of your thong, dragging it down slowly, the material clung to your centre a sticky film connecting your cunt and the fabric as he pulled it down and off your legs, dropping the fabric onto his pile of clothes on the floor. “god, you’re so wet, baby.” drew said breathlessly. “who’s got you so wet, huh? tell me.” your cheeks flushed in embarrassment “you, drew, i’m so wet just for you.” drew hummed appreciatively “such a pretty pussy, I knew your cunt would be gorgeous, just like the rest of you.”
before you could say anything in response, drew dove into your cunt, eating you like a man starved. his tongue flicked at your clit, as he spread your lips open with his fingers baring you for him to consume. you gasped and whined, your moans coming out broken. then he sucked your clit into his mouth and his long finger prodded at your entrance. your hips bucked and your thighs squeezed at his head. but drew just held your legs open with one hand as he doubled down on his efforts, he slipped in another finger, thrusting with fervour and you thought you were seeing stars, you had never had a man eat you out like this before. it was like drew was born to live between your legs, like he was made just for you. as he sped up his movements you felt the tightening band in your stomach about to snap. “fuck! drew! shit! i’m gonna cum!” your orgasm tore through you with a rage, as you came with a shout of his name. your back arched off the bed and your legs shook around drew’s head, thighs squeezing him. your puffy clit throbbed and your slick walls pulsating around his fingers.
drew detached himself from your abused cunt, slotting himself between your spread legs, your body was still trembling. “that’s one, baby” you could only muster a whine in response as drew grabbed the base of his cock stroking a few quick times, before slapping the head of his cock against your swollen cunt. “fuck, wait, i don’t have a condom.” you shook your head. “don’t care ‘m on birth control, wanna feel you, drew.” you said, your voice full of your need for him. drew groaned his head bowing forward, as if his was in prayer. his voice conveying his all consuming desire for you. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”
drew smeared his pre cum all over your cunt, like he was trying to mark you as his. then he pushed the tip him, your mouth hung open as a gasp escaped your plush, swollen lips. it felt as though his was spitting you open. drew stopped as your brows furrowed and your perfect face scrunched up, mouth still open. he was right, you look exactly as how you did in your sex scene. but seeing you now, in real life, in front of him as the cause of your pleasure, the feeling was indescribable. he knew in that moment that he lived for you. to be the source of all your joy. you shook your head “no, don’t stop, i want it to hurt, i want to be able to feel you tomorrow.” he couldn’t speak, drew swore that no woman could every make him feel like you did. he pushed all the way in bottoming out, he didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size, pounding into your tight cunt with ardour. your moans and whines came out strangled, your face flushing.
drew’s hand trailed your thigh, grabbing the plump flesh, so tight that you knew that he would leave hand prints, his cock slammed into your walls and he looks so pretty above you, bottom lip bit under his pearly teeth, in effort to keep his groans at bay. sweat gathering at his forehead, that you wanted to lick off, pretty brows furrowed together. you were gripping him like a vice and he knew that he wasn’t going to last long. he brought his thumb to your throbbing clit. rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves, you threw you head back exposing your neck as you felt your second orgasm of the night creep onto you. “shit, baby, prettiest girl in the world, fucked out on my cock. you don’t know how long i’ve been dreaming of this.” your tits bounced with each slap of his hips against yours, his heavy balls banging against your ass, the sting adding to your pleasure.
“holy fuck, drew!” your body convulses from your second climax, tight walls clenching hard around drew’s thick cock, he pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your knees as your face buried into the mattress. you panted heavily as he pushed back into you from behind. large palms gripping onto your hips. he picked up his pace right where he left it giving you no time to gather yourself. strong hips pounding against your perfect ass, one hand left your hips that he trailed down your back to your head gripping your hair, turning your head to the side so you could watch him over your shoulder. but you struggled to keep your eyes open.
drew was struggling not to cum, he was nothing if not a man of his word, so no matter how hard your velvet walls clenched around him, no matter how perfect the sight before him was, he had to see you again. so he wasn’t going to lose his chance by fucking cumming too quickly like a teenage boy. “best fucking pussy i’ve ever had.” he praised and your squealed in response, you could form coherent thoughts anymore, let alone words. the only thing you could think of was drew, and how he was splitting you apart on his big cock. the angle of his thrusts hitting that sweet spot inside of you. “fuck! ‘m gonna cum, baby!” you cried out and drew whimpered in relief, he was teetering on the edge and the thought of having to hold on for any longer made him feel like he was going to collapse. “yeah? gonna give me number three, baby?” you pushed you ass back into him matching his thrusts as you whined loudly. drew was hypnotised as your red cheeks bounced on his cock, his hand leaving its place on your hip to smack down on the plump flesh, once, twice, then three times, watching it jiggle. “fuck, please rub my clit!” drew obeyed immediately bending at hip and reaching around you so that his long fingers could rub at your pulsing clit with vehemence.
“i’m cumming!” your body shook and your eyes squeezed shut as tears rolled down your eyes, you felt this wetness exploding out of you but you couldn’t focus on it, drew groaned from behind you his hips stuttering as he came with a loud moan of your name his cum pushing into your cervix. he pulled out of you and you felt the mixture of your mixed fluids seeping out of your pussy. drew took two of his fingers and gathered the mixture and pushed it back into your sensitive cunt, you whined in response, collapsing onto your back it’s only then did you see the mess you had caused on the expensive sheets of the hotel bed. “you squirted. that’s so fucking hot.” you felt boneless, completely spent. “ever done that before?” you shook your head no “mm mm.” drew’s face was completely fucked out and you were sure you didn’t look much different. “hold on, baby, i’m gonna clean you up, ok?” you simply nodded, too tired to speak. drew walked to the bathroom and came back with a wet towel, which he used to wipe between your legs and over your sensitive cunt, before chucking the cloth somewhere on the floor, then collapsing next to you on the bed.
drew gathered you into his arms tugging you close to him, his arm under your head and the other around your waist and you snuggled you face into the crevice of his neck and shoulder. your hand coming up to rest on his chest and your legs tangling with his. you have never felt so content in your life. drew spoke in a hushed tone. “so, that was three, can i take you out now?” you giggled in response “yeah, can i tell you a secret?” drew was tracing patterns on your shoulder. “what’s that, baby?” you smiled against his skin “i was gonna say yes anyway, but i wanted to make you work for it.” drew chuckled. “you cheeky minx.” “can i tell you a secret?” you nodded “i would’ve done anything you told me too.”
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TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chloeisbunny
god that took me so fucking long to write but i hope it’s not disappointing. thank you for all the love on the previous parts my lovelies!!
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ktownshizzle · 2 days ago
Text
Love & Lullabies | Part 3
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Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)
Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie
Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.
Chapter warnings: GRAB YOUR TISSUES!, this bitch is a whole ass kdrama episode and it’s gonna hurt before it gets better, happy ending tho!, themes of self-loathing, anxiety, and depression (MC), severe postpartum depression (not MC), it’s monsoon season and namgi don’t like umbrellas, (____) in the rain cliche scene, NAMTIDDIES because I can’t help myself, lastly… watch me morph this into another workplace romance/co-workers to lovers story lmao (real)
Word count: ~7k
Posting date: November 21, 2024
Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. 
I am a clown 🤡 and a liar 🤥 From pretending this is a two-shot, then a three-shot. It has become a chaptered series, atp. There is a part 4 in the works and I fully intend to end it there, but again, I may have just jinxed myself. Anyway! Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist
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“She’s Haneul’s mom.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut.
“What?”
“Sung Kyung and Yoongi… they’ve been good friends for years,” Namjoon explains quickly, his tone almost apologetic. “I didn’t think they were dating. But yeah, she’s his mom. She left for months and when she came back, she'd already given birth.”
You feel like the ground has been ripped out from under you. What Namjoon said made no sense. You clutch the edge of the counter, your mind racing. “What do you mean she left…?” You have never been more confused in your entire life.
Namjoon sighs. “I don’t know all the details. You know hyung, he tells you what he thinks you need to know. The rest, he keeps to himself. But I do know they did the paternity tests and everything, and Haneul’s his, theirs.”
Theirs. It’s easier if Namjoon just slices your heart open at this rate. 
He places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “It’s better to hear it straight from Yoongi-hyung, since you guys are, you know.”
“I– I don’t know. I don’t know what we are,” you say, leaning your weight sideways against the wall to steady yourself. 
Get a grip. It’s Haneul’s day. 
Namjoon stands to shield you from the rest, in case anybody chances to look your way. You probably look like you’re about to puke. You definitely feel like it.
“Joonie…” Your voice is small when you ask, “Do you think she wants to come back now?”
Namjoon lifts his shoulder, lets it sag, “I don’t know. Maybe. She wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Your chest tightens, a wave of insecurity crashing over you. Of course, she would want to come back now. She’s beautiful, successful, everything you’re not. And most importantly, she’s Haneul’s mother. That’s the kicker. How can you compete with that?
Spoiler alert: you can’t.
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When you step back into the living room, the first thing you notice is Yoongi’s mom. She’s standing off to the side, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glares at Sung Kyung from across the room with a mixture of disapproval and barely-contained irritation.
“She shouldn’t be here,” she says quietly, her voice cold and clipped.
“Eomma,” Yoongi grits.
“She abandoned Haneul, Yoongi,” his mom hisses, her tone sharper now. “And she thinks she can just come here like nothing happened?”
Yoongi sighs, his hand briefly brushing his mother’s arm in a silent plea for calm. “Not here, eomma. Please. It’s Haneul’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.”
Of course he is siding with her.
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You’re unable to tear your eyes away from Sung Kyung. How can she look so beautiful even if she looks miserable? She exchanges a few more quiet words with Yoongi near the door, her expression alternating between frustration and what looks like regret. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but you catch the way Yoongi’s shoulders stiffen, the way his jaw tightens as she reaches out to brush his arm. You see Yoongi nod, and you’re so curious, what is he agreeing to?
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she leaves. The door is closed, but for sure this chapter isn’t. Not even close.
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You entertain yourself by watching some of the BTS members play some video games. Their antics, as funny as they are, don’t really register. Your laughs are hollow, mind totally elsewhere. It’s a while before Yoongi finally finds you, after he disappeared to his studio after Sung Kyung left and went MIA for half an hour or so.
He corners you near the snack table as you pretend to be engrossed in arranging leftover cupcakes.
“Hey,” he says softly, touching your arm lightly.
You turn to face him, your smile brittle. “Hey. How’s everything going?”
“Can we talk?”
You nod, following him toward the hallway, away from the laughter and chatter. The noise completely fades as you enter his soundproof studio and he turns to face you.
He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he says carefully, like he’s choosing every word with precision.
“About Sung Kyung.” you offer. He nods, shoulders visibly tense. “Yeah. And Haneul.”
The mention of Haneul makes your chest tighten, but you steady yourself, waiting for him to continue.
“She and I… we were close for a long time,” he begins, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And yeah, there was a point where I thought it was going somewhere. But then she just… disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“She left Korea. No warning, no explanation. Just… ghosted.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know where she went or why. She didn’t contact me for months.”
“And then one day,” he continues, “she called. Told me she just gave birth to a son. That it was mine.”
The words hang between you, heavy and jarring. You don’t say anything, letting him get it all out.
“She didn’t tell me she was pregnant,” he says, shaking his head as if he still can’t believe it. “I literally only found out after he was born.”
You feel a pang of sympathy, but then you’re also feeling angry at Sung Kyung. “Why did she wait so long to tell you?”
“She said she didn’t want to burden me. I was already doing my military service and I had that thing… that case. She thought she could handle it on her own.” He looks up at you then, his eyes dark and conflicted. “But after she had him… she couldn’t. She fell into really severe postpartum depression and some other health issues, basically telling me she was diagnosed unfit to take care of him.”
Your throat tightens, and you clasp your hands together to keep them from shaking. “So you stepped in.”
He nods, “I didn’t have a choice. Haneul needed someone, and I couldn’t—I wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s my son. It was confirmed by a paternity test.”
“And now she’s back,” you say, more a statement than a question.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, dragging a hand down his face. “She says she’s better. That she wants to be in his life now. That she can be. And honestly… I don’t know what to do.”
You study him for a moment, your emotions warring between compassion and your own sense of inadequacy. “What do you want, Yoongi? Not for her, not for Haneul. What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, gnawing his lip before he says, “I just… I want to do what’s right for Haneul.”
The words cut deeper than you expected, but you force a small smile, nodding as if they don’t sting. “That makes sense.”
Yoongi takes a step closer as he studies your face. “But what about you?” he asks, his voice almost too gentle. “How are you feeling about all this?”
The sincerity in his question takes you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to tell him everything. The ache in your chest, the jealousy you hate admitting to, the fear of losing whatever connection the two of you have built. But instead, you plaster on a smile, shoving all those emotions into a corner of your mind.
“I’m fine,” you say lightly. “It’s Haneul’s birthday. That’s what matters.”
Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he’s trying to read the truth in your expression. But after a moment, he nods, letting it drop. “Okay.”
Finally, you glance at the door, forcing yourself to straighten up. “We should probably get back to the party.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, stepping aside to let you pass. But as you reach for the door, his voice stops you.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
You turn back, your brows furrowing. “For what?”
“For everything,” he says, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite name.
You don’t know how to respond, so you just nod. Because his words—why did it feel like a goodbye?
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The rest of the party passes in a blur. You keep smiling, keep laughing, keep pretending everything is fine. You stand by as Yoongi helps Haneul blow out his single candle, snapping pictures of his chubby hands smashing into the frosting. 
You’re wiping stray frosting from Haneul’s cheek when you glance at him and for a split second, you see her. Sung Kyung’s face is right there, faint but unmistakable, in the shape of his eyes and the curve of his brows.
The realization hits you like a freight train. You freeze, the cloth clutched in your hand, staring at this beautiful baby boy who isn’t yours. Who will never be yours.
It’s too much. You set the muslin down, excusing yourself to the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll grab more drinks.”
You don’t even make it to the fridge. You stand there by the counter, gripping its edge as you force yourself to breathe, to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never felt more out of place in your life.
Namjoon finds you a few moments later, leaning against the doorway with a quiet, watchful look. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He just stays there, close but not too close, his presence steady and silent. You appreciate him for that—for knowing exactly what you need when you’re unraveling. He’s your best friend after all.
But even his quiet support isn’t enough to keep the emotions at bay.
Across the room, Yoongi’s eomma catches your eye. There’s something pitying in the glances she throws your way, a faint furrow of her brow that makes you want to sink into the floor. You had the feeling she knows there’s something between you and Yoongi, but now… now it feels like she’s seeing through you, like she knows exactly how small you’re starting to feel.
Because the truth is, you’re nothing.
You’re not Haneul’s mom. You’re not Yoongi’s girlfriend. You’re just someone who helps out when it’s convenient, and now that they have a nanny, you’re not even that. And it hurts. God, it hurts because you thought—maybe foolishly, maybe selfishly—that you were becoming something more. That you were becoming someone to them. That, maybe, you were becoming a family.
But now, as you stand there watching Yoongi carry Haneul to his room, barely sparing you a glance, the truth sinks in like a stone in your chest. You’re not someone. You’re a placeholder. A stand-in.
And pretty soon, just like Jiyong, they’re going to discard you. Because that’s what always happens. You’re always easy to leave behind. Always replaceable. Always useless.
The thought claws at you, and you suddenly can’t breathe. You grab your things and run. The cool night air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ache in your chest.
The tears come before you can stop them, hot and angry and full of every ounce of self-loathing you’ve tried to bury.
You glance back at the building. Maybe for the last time. You’re on the outside now—of course you are. You’ve been on the outside this entire time.
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Namjoon must have noticed you were gone because he texted shortly after:
Joonie: You okay? Joonie: Don’t worry, I told them you weren’t feeling well. Go home and rest. Text me when you’re there.
That night, you ignored Yoongi’s call. You stared at the screen as his name lit up, your finger hovering over the answer button before you let it ring out. He left a voicemail. You deleted it without listening.
The next morning, you wake up to another call from him. This time, he doesn’t leave a voicemail. Instead, he sends a message.
Yoongi: Can I come over?
You stare at the text for a long time, your stomach twisting with guilt and anger and sadness. Finally, you type out a single word:
You: No
You throw your phone face-down on the couch, ignoring the way it buzzes again and again and again.
For the next few days, you ghost him.
It wasn’t easy. Every time your phone buzzes, you feel a pang of guilt, a deep ache that gnaws at your resolve. But you can’t bring yourself to answer. You need time. You need to figure out where you stood in all of this.
His messages come sporadically at first:
Yoongi: Hey, can we talk? Yoongi: I don’t know what I did wrong, but I want to fix it. Yoongi: Please. Just let me know you’re okay.
You delete most of them without reading too much into them. But then he starts sending pictures.
The first was of Haneul, grinning in his chair, wearing the capybara slippers you’d gifted him for his birthday.
Yoongi: Haneul misses you
The next day, another photo. This time, Haneul was lying on his playmat, still wearing the slippers, holding onto Bora.
Yoongi: Still missing you
Each message chips away at your resolve, but the one that breaks you comes Thursday evening:
A short video clip. In it, Haneul is sitting on the floor, babbling as he clutches Bora. And then, clear as day, he says it:
“Sa-ra.”
Your heart twists painfully. It’s clipped, but it’s unmistakably sarang. Your term of endearment for him, the nickname you’d called him since he started smiling every time he heard it. He’d never been able to say it back—not until now.
And Yoongi knows exactly what he is doing, sending this to you.
You stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity, leaving the video on loop, before finally opening your call log. His name was right at the top, of course. You hit the call button, your hands trembling as you bring the phone to your ear.
“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice comes through almost immediately.
You exhale shakily. “Hi.”
There was a pause. Then he speaks again, and you can hear his vulnerability. “I didn’t think you’d call back.”
You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself. “How could I ignore that video? Haneul… he said sarang.”
“Yeah, he’s been saying it non-stop since yesterday.”
You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Yoongi… about… us.”
“Mmh?” He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just waited.
“I’ve been thinking,” you began. “Haneul deserves to have a complete family. He deserves to know his mom, to have her in his life. If—if that’s what you both want.”
Yoongi was quiet for a long moment before he finally responded. “But… he needs you, too.”
Before you can back out, “Yoongi, I need space,” you say finally, your voice trembling.
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Okay.”
It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t an argument. Just… okay. It’s the most ‘Yoongi’ reaction to things, and you hate it. You hate it so much.
You hang up, staring at the screen until it goes dark. Your chest felt heavy, your heart splintering in ways you didn’t know it could.
You’d told him you needed space and he said okay. The truth is, when you said space, you just wanted him to make room for you. To assure you that you belong with them. That there is a seat, warm and yours. But he didn’t.
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You miss Yoongi so much it feels like a physical ache. But it’s not just him. You miss Haneul’s face, his giggles, his sleepy weight in your arms. 
Namjoon has been doing his best to check in. He sends you UberEats nearly every other day, a steady stream of meals you barely touch. The one time he came over, unannounced, he walked into what could only be described as a disaster.
“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon muttered, kicking a stray box out of his way as he entered your apartment. The laundry basket was overflowing, your trash can piled up. You were in a 2-day old shirt, hair a rat’s nest, and you’re slouched on the couch with an empty brain.
Namjoon stared at you, his disappointment radiating off him. “Y/N, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“I’m fine,” you lied, barely looking at him.
He scoffed. “Fine? You look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Twice.”
“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes, but the truth of his words stung.
Namjoon crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. “Move in with me for now. You know I have the space. You can’t stay here like this. It’s not healthy.”
“I’m not moving in with you, Joon,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not your charity case.”
He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my best friend. And I’m not gonna sit back and watch you drown in your own misery.”
“I’m not gonna live in your and Soyeon’s sex den,” you snapped unnecessarily.
Namjoon just looked at you, shook his head, before he flopped beside you on the couch. He fed you, forced you to go take a shower, and watched some shitty reality show with you. He eventually left, though you could feel the weight of his disappointment long after the door shut behind him. If he only knew how thankful you were of those visits.
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A week later, you find yourself standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment. You didn’t plan this. You don’t even know what you’re hoping to achieve by being here. All you know is that the ache of missing them—missing him—has become unbearable.
You knock on the door before you can second-guess yourself.
Mrs. Kwon opens it, her expression immediately uneasy. “Y/N,” she says, her tone cautious. “You should come back another time.”
“Why?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.
She hesitates, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s just… not a good time.”
“I need to see them,” you insist, stepping forward.
“My dear girl, please listen—”
But you’re already past her, your determination overriding her warnings.
When you step into the living room–
Fuck.
There she is. Sung Kyung, sitting on the floor with Haneul in her lap, holding a plush toy you don’t recognize. She’s smiling at him, her voice soft as she tries to coax him into playing with it. Adding salt to the wound–Bora, the capybara plush you gave Haneul, is discarded carelessly in the corner near the diaper pail.
Your heart stops, and before you can control yourself, you take a step back, your movement catching Sung Kyung’s attention. She looks up, confused. She doesn’t know you, why would she? 
Yoongi’s voice comes from behind you, and you turn to see him emerging from his studio, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Who rang the—”
His eyes widen when he sees you, but you’re already moving, your feet carrying you toward the door in a blind rush.
“Wait—Y/N!”
You barely hear him as you bend down and snatch Bora from the floor. Haneul’s voice suddenly cuts through the air, his tiny, excited voice calling out, “Sa-ra! Sa-ra!”
Tears blur your vision as you wrench the door open and run, Yoongi’s voice calling after you, but you don’t stop.
It’s raining when you step outside. Great, because this day couldn’t get any worse. The cold droplets soak through your clothes almost instantly. You don’t have an umbrella, but you don’t give a shit. Tears stream down your face mixing with the rain.
You don’t know how far you get before you feel it—a warmth against your back, arms wrapping around you tightly.
Yoongi’s voice cracks as he says your name, his rain-soaked body like a furnace against your shivering frame. “Please.”
He sounds like he is begging, but why? What is he asking? What does he want from you?
You shake your head, your voice breaking. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Then why did you?” he asks, his tone desperate, his chest heaving as he pulls you tighter.
“Because I thought… I thought I had a place here. But I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice barely audible over the rain as he turns you to face him. His hands come up to cradle your face. He was starting to shake too, the pads of his fingers damp against your skin. His eyes search yours, desperate, and before you can stop him—or yourself—he closes the space between you and kisses you.
Against the pouring rain, your lips press against each other, clumsy, shaky, unexpectedly urgent. His lips move like he’s trying to say all the things he can’t find the words for, like this is his only way to make you understand. And for a second, maybe a minute, maybe more, you let him.
You feel his ragged breaths as he licks into your mouth, his hair brushing your temple, droplets trailing down your skin. His hand slides from your cheek to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently through your wet hair. It’s tender and fierce all at once, like he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.
But there is a tinge of bitterness cutting through the taste of his kiss. This isn’t enough—not to fix everything, not to erase the doubt clawing at the edges of your mind. Not to prevent the new thoughts from worming its way inside.
Sung Kyung is in his apartment right now. So maybe it’s not just about Haneul anymore. Maybe they’re reconciling. Trying to sort out their own feelings that they put on ice. Yoongi did say he thought their relationship was going somewhere. 
God, you do not want to be some homewrecker. You cannot do that to Haneul. Weakly you try to pull back. 
But Yoongi doesn’t let you. His lips chase yours, teeth gently sinking into your plush and you’re unable to stifle the moan from your mouth at the delicious sting. You open up to him, lips sliding against his as his other hand grips your waist now, pulling you closer until you can really feel the heat of his body through the drenched fabric of his clothes. The world feels like it’s spinning, everything is blending into a dizzying blur, and you don’t know how to stop it.
Your hand hovers at his chest, not pushing him away but not pulling him closer either. Your heart is screaming to hold on just a little longer. But your head is telling you—
“No,” you whisper, breaking away as quickly as you can without slipping on the slick ground. Your chest heaves as you clutch Bora tighter against you.
Yoongi stands frozen, his lips parted as if he’s about to speak, his dark eyes locked on yours. The rain clings to his lashes, his hair plastered to his forehead, and for a moment, he looks completely lost.
“I can’t do this, Yoongi,” you choke out, your voice shaking. “I just… I can’t.”
And before he can stop you, you turn and run again, your feet splashing through puddles as you make your way to the nearest bus stop. By some miracle, you make your way home in one piece. Barring one vital organ that’s discarded somewhere in Hannam.
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My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning rain clouds up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be gray But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad - Stan, Eminem
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Your apartment is cold and quiet, the soft patter of rain against the windows the only sound. The mug of tea on your table has long since gone cold, untouched, as you sit curled up on the couch, staring at that grainy selca Yoongi sent you weeks ago. 
You’re startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Namjoon steps in, shaking off the rain and holding a grocery bag in one hand, his hoodie slung over his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, but he flashes you his dimples anyway.
“You know,” he starts, setting the bag on the counter, “for someone who always claims they’re fine, you sure as hell don’t look it.”
“Don’t start, Joon,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.
Namjoon ignores you, glancing around the apartment with a disapproving look. “Seriously? It still looks like you just moved in. No decorations, no warmth. This part could be a photo wall or something…”
You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Art influencer.”
“I need a dry shirt,” he says, gripping the edge of his tee and pulling it up and over his head without fanfare.
You’ve never felt attracted to your best friend in any physical or sexual way ever (seriously, ew), but you can appreciate a good physique when you see one.
“Wow, Joonie, are your tiddies getting bigger?” you say as you stand to find a shirt for him from your makeshift closet.
“You’re an idiot.”
Before you can respond, the doorbell rings. Namjoon straightens, wiping his hands on his pants. “You expecting someone?”
You shake your head.
Namjoon strides to the door, glancing through the peephole with a tsk before pulling it open. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s shirtless, which would be awkward enough if it were anyone else standing there. 
But it’s Yoongi.
Yoongi stands in the hallway, his expression strained, his eyes immediately scanning the room behind Namjoon until they land on you, curled on the couch. You clutch the t-shirt you were about to lend Namjoon tighter against your chest, unsure whether to feel relief, anger, or the painful longing that’s been gnawing at you for days.
“I need to talk to her,” Yoongi says, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.
Namjoon steps into the doorway, crossing his arms as he blocks the entrance. “Maybe not today, hyung.”
Yoongi’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. “I have to. I need to explain.”
Namjoon doesn’t budge, his voice soft but firm. “Sorry, hyung. Not after everything.”
Yoongi’s eyes flick to you again, desperate. “I just… fuck,” He swallows hard, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t let her think she doesn’t matter to me. She does. More than anyone.”
Namjoon hesitates for the first time, glancing back at you. His expression softens briefly, but when he turns to Yoongi again, it’s your voice that responds.
“Yoongi.” Your voice is quiet, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. Both men turn to you, and the hope that flashes across Yoongi’s face makes your lungs shrivel.
You grip the fabric in your hands tighter, willing yourself to stay firm. “You should go.”
Yoongi’s lips part as if to argue, but the look in your eyes silences him. He nods once, slowly, his expression crumbling for just a moment before he turns away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice so soft you almost don’t hear it.
Namjoon watches him for a moment longer before stepping back into the apartment and shutting the door.
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The first step is always the hardest.
Namjoon didn’t sugarcoat anything when he told you to get your shit together. “I love you,” he said bluntly after Yoongi left that rainy night, “but you’re the only one who can pull yourself out of this. No one else is coming to save you. Not me. Not Jiyong. Not Yoongi. Just you.”
You hated hearing it, but he was right.
So you took the first step: you called a therapist. Twice a week, you sat in that tiny, clinical room and talked about everything you’d buried for years. The abandonment issues you’d carried since childhood. The shame you felt after your relationship with Jiyong fell apart. The way you constantly give pieces of yourself to others, just like you did with Haneul and Yoongi, leaving nothing for yourself. Thinking that’s okay.
Session by session, the fog began to lift. Slowly, you started to understand that happiness couldn’t come from someone else, no matter how deeply you loved them. It had to come from you—built piece by piece, nurtured, protected.
You realized that loving yourself wasn’t selfish. It was necessary. And for the first time in months, you began to believe you were worthy of it.
At home, you started small. One night, you finally tackled the pile of laundry that had been haunting you for weeks. Another night, you scrubbed down the kitchen until the counters gleamed. And then one weekend, you went to IKEA and bought a bed frame—not just a functional one, but a beautiful one that made you feel excited to wake up in the mornings.
You even hung up paintings on the walls, little pops of color that made the apartment feel like it was actually yours. Namjoon gave you some from his collection, too.
Running sucks, but it became your nightly ritual. At first, it was hard. Your legs ached, and your lungs burned. But the more you pushed yourself, the better it felt—the rush of endorphins, the rhythm of your feet hitting the pavement, the way your thoughts quieted for just a little while.
Bit by bit, you started to feel lighter. Like you were shedding layers of weight you didn’t even realize you were carrying.
And then there was Yoongi.
He was still a constant name on your phone, though the tone of his messages had shifted over time. At first, his texts were full of apologies and pleas for a second chance:
Yoongi: I know I messed up. Please let me make it right.
Yoongi: I’m sorry for everything. I hate that I hurt you.
Yoongi: I need you, Y/N. I should have told you sooner.
Yoongi: Can I come over? I really want to explain everything.
Yoongi: I’m an idiot.
Yoongi: I’ll wait for you. Just tell me when you’re ready to talk.
Then came the texts about Haneul:
Yoongi: Haneul misses you. Not to one-up my own kid, but I miss you more.
Yoongi: Han said your name today. He kept pointing at the door like he was waiting for you to walk in.
Yoongi: I bought him a new Bora. This giraffe is lame. [image attached]
Yoongi: Han’s been carrying Bora 2.0 everywhere. He even tried to feed it rice last night.
And now, weeks later, his messages had settled into something different.
Yoongi: I was in the studio all day, and Hobi made me take a break. We ended up eating too much fried chicken and now I have a zit.
Yoongi: How was your run today? Namjoonah says you’re joining a mini marathon. Good luck!
Yoongi: Still have boxes of Silver Moon tea. It’s too bougie for my ghetto taste buds. Lmk if you want it. Yoongi: Actually, no need. I'll send it thru Namjoonah.
Yoongi: I fucked up the choreography to our new track at Mubank today like an amateur. I hope you didn’t get to watch it.
They were simple, almost mundane. But Yoongi’s texts had a way of hitting you square in the chest. You think back to that conversation in his home, the one where he admitted how lonely he sometimes felt—how he wished for someone to talk to about the little things, the big milestones, everything in between. Someone to share life with. And now, with every message he sends, it feels like he’s choosing you.
Even though weeks have passed without seeing him, he’s still there. Reaching out. Trying to stay connected. Even when you never reply.
But his messages have become tiny bursts of dopamine in your otherwise quiet days. You’re both surprised and relieved he hasn’t stopped trying, that he hasn’t grown tired of pouring himself into the void of your Kakao.
Namjoon told you recently that Yoongi and Sung Kyung have started co-parenting Haneul. She gets supervised visits twice a month. At first, the green-eyed monster threatened to come out. But your best friend tells you that Yoongi never wanted to rekindle anything with Sung Kyung, which gave you some peace. Maybe if you’d been braver back then, you could’ve asked Yoongi yourself. Maybe if Yoongi had been better at communicating, he would have told you then it wouldn’t have felt like such an uphill climb.
But, he was also having such a difficult time, sorting through his own circumstances. And your insecurities at the time were too heavy, too overwhelming to sift through. You probably wouldn’t have believed him then. The progress you’ve made now—to love yourself first—feels hard-won and necessary. And maybe Yoongi also needed to go on a journey to really know what he wants for him and Haneul.
You’ve come to realize through all this that you don’t really hate Sung Kyung. Maybe you were angry on behalf of Yoongi and Haneul for all the secrets she kept, for the ways her choices hurt them both. There was even a night when you found yourself doing a Naver search on postpartum depression. You hadn’t understood how debilitating it could be, how it could turn even the strongest person into a shell of themselves. It didn’t excuse everything, but it gave you perspective, especially as you battle your own demons.
Still, as you journey forward, there are moments when you imagine the “what ifs” with Yoongi, if Sung Kyung hadn't showed up that day. Sometimes, late at night, your mind drifts back to him. You replay his kiss, remembering the way it felt, the way he tasted. You can still conjure the image of his face under the rain, the way he looked at you in that fleeting, heart-wrenching moment.
You wonder if he thinks about it, too. You know he’s waiting. You just hope that when you’re finally ready to let him back in, he’ll still be there—on the other side, willing to try again.
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One evening, Namjoon called, his tone unusually excited. “Hey, I’ve got something for you.”
“No, I don’t need more lube, I’m stocked,” you joked, just to be a piece of shit.
“Shut up and listen,” he said, laughing. “Hybe’s opening a daycare for employees’ kids. They need someone to run it. You’re perfect for this.”
Your stomach flipped. “What? Joonie, I don’t even—”
“Don’t even try to argue,” he interrupted. “You have a degree in early childhood education. You love kids. This was your literal job in the states. C’mon, this is made for you.”
“What if I’m not ready?”
Namjoon sighed. “You are. I’ve seen how much work you’ve been putting in. You’re stronger than you think. Just… apply. The worst they can do is say no.”
You’re quiet, so he added. “...and they won’t. I’ll have each member of Bangtan sign a recommendation letter for you.”
“You’re too much, Joonie,” you laugh. But you surely won’t put it past him to do that. “But ok, I’ll apply.”
So you did. And a week later, you got the call.
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Your first day at Hybe’s daycare center feels like a dream you didn’t know you had. The space is beautiful—sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the colorful toys, tiny tables, and pastel murals. There are only three kids who pre-registered, but you were expecting more to walk in.
Namjoon is there, truly your ride or die, sitting casually on your desk with his ever-supportive grin. “You nervous?” 
“Nope,” you say, trying to sound confident. But the way your voice wavers gives you away.
Namjoon chuckles. “Relax. You’re going to crush this.”
Before you can respond, the door swings open, and in walks Hobi with Yunjin and their toddler, Jeongyeon. The little girl looks adorable in her sunflower-patterned overalls, her tiny pigtails bobbing as she walks toward the play area.
“Jeongyeon, say hi to teacher Y/N,” Yunjin says, gently guiding her forward.
“Hi!” Jeongyeon squeaks.
You crouch down to her level. “Hi, Jeongyeon! You’re gonna have so much fun today.”
“First kid of the day, ayeeee!" Hobi says, high-fiving Yunjin, before she runs to Jeongyeon who is mounting the toy pony. Then he turns to you, “Congratulations, Y/N.”
Just as they’re leaving, Namjoon nudges you. “By the way, did you know there’s a capybara mascot today?”
“What?” you blink, confused.
Before Namjoon can explain, something soft and warm suddenly envelops you in a hug. You turn to see a capybara mascot wrapping its plush arms around you, its giant head tilted adorably to the side.
“What the…” You laugh, surprised, grasping its arm. “Hybe really went all out, huh?”
Namjoon smirks. “Of course. First-day activations are a big deal here. And look at that, your favorite animal. What a coincidence.”
You grin, stepping back to look at the mascot. “Guess I’m a little biased, but this might be the cutest thing ever.”
The mascot gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up. 
Shortly, Haneul arrives. The moment you see him toddling through the door, all your nerves, all the weight you’d carried for weeks—gone. There’s no ache, no tension. Just pure, uncomplicated happiness.
His nanny, a kind older woman, walks him in, holding his hand as he peers curiously around the room.
Haneul bounds toward you giggling, his gummy smile stretching wide as he lets go of the nanny’s hand and waddles toward you.
“Hi, sarang,” you say, crouching down to scoop him into your arms. He smells like baby lotion and sunshine, and your chest feels full as he buries his face in your shoulder. “I missed you.”
You glance toward the door, your eyes darting around instinctively, but there’s no sign of Yoongi. A small pang of disappointment settles in your stomach before you shake it off. He’s probably holed up in his studio, working on something brilliant. It would have been nice to see him though.
The capybara mascot wanders over, drawing Haneul’s attention instantly. His eyes light up as he points at it, giggling.
“Appa!” Haneul says excitedly, punching the knee of the mascot with his tiny fists.
You laugh, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “That’s not your appa, Haneul. He’s probably in one of the big studios upstairs working very hard right now.”
The mascot gives you a pat on the head, and something about its movements feels oddly familiar. But you don’t dwell on it, too caught up in Haneul’s delighted squeals as the mascot does a little dance for him. It sure loves to shake its ass.
For the rest of the morning, you’re in your element, guiding the kids through activities, wiping tears, and singing songs during circle time. Every so often, Haneul points at the mascot and calls out “Appa!” again, and you can’t help but laugh.
And if the capybara mascot seems to hover a little longer around Haneul, or if it lingers near you whenever there’s a chance, well… you just chalk it up to coincidence.
(One day, much later, you’ll find out the truth. But for now, you’re content not knowing.)
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That night, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out to find another message from Yoongi.
Yoongi: Congratulations on your first day!
You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For the first time in weeks, as you look at your thread of messages from him, you let yourself smile—a small, cautious smile, but a smile nonetheless. And for the first time in months of radio silence, you type up your first reply to him.
You: Thanks, Yoongi. I’m really happy. :)
His reply came almost immediately.
Yoongi: You deserve it
And it may have taken a while, but you finally believe that. So you decide you are also finally ready to do this.
You: Can we talk? Yoongi: giv me 10 mins im cming overr
:)
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A/N: 
Alright!! Wheeeew! You good? How are you feeling?!?!? As usual, please sound off in the comments. 💕
I just want to say that am so proud of this chapter. I think I wrote my best, angst work here. Plus - Kissing in the rain? Namtiddies? A taste of smau? Hee hee. 🤗 
If you make it to here, thank you so so much for reading this story, you lovely, beautiful, human! xo
Part 4 is coming uppp and it’s gonna be a doozy~ 🤭
P.S. As some of y’all know I am a mom and I have experienced post-partum depression before. It was nowhere near the severity of how it is depicted here (a condition that is grave and rare because the character also has other mental struggles), but I empathize. I cannot imagine being truly unfit to care for my own baby. So I request that we do not vilify L&L! LSK. She fucked up real baddd, she could’ve involved Yoongi earlier, etc etc but again she is trying to do better. Plusss, it needs to be said, she does not want Yoongi. Gasp. Y’all can rest easy. He’s yours! 💕
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& If you want to read more of my work, please check out my masterlist. & If you enjoy my work and want to buy me a ko-fi, I'd appreciate it.
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@ryryvna @tea4sykes @mar-lo-pap @lilkittenjenjen
@captainchrisstan @thelittlecatonthecake
@flaneuseonthestreets @sexytholland @diamonddia-mond
@yronathaniel @as-hs-blog @amarssfanfic @mafersame @amarawayne
@eurydiceofterabithia @diame93 @welcometomyworld13 @wonh0oe @lilkittenjenjen @jalexad
@jkkkkkay @chimmisbae @angellekookie @jovanaprime @txtsoobean @joonlovely
@kookiewithluv @soop-sprite @hyukaluve
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covenofagatha · 2 days ago
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Two professors and a student (Part 5)
Word count: 3200
Warnings: 3k works of pure smut, fingering, oral, strap on, blow job, squirting, overstimulation, vibrators, probably missing something lol
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You can barely breathe by the time you reach their bedroom. Even though you just had an orgasm, you are still desperate for more. 
Seems like they are, too. 
The door is thrown open by Agatha, who clearly doesn't care what it hits and she points you to the chair in the corner of their spacious room. 
Wordlessly, you obey and go sit. You vaguely feel like a child who just got put in time-out. Rio enters shortly after and Agatha grabs her waist and pulls her into a kiss, just as hot as the one from downstairs. You whimper and rest your hands on your thighs, resisting the urge to touch yourself. You can be good. 
Agatha pushes Rio down onto the bed and they work together to get her pants off. 
“Now I’m going to show you what Rio likes,” Agatha says, looking over at you for the first time since Rio came into the room. “And if you can be our good little student and pay attention and make her cum, we’ll reward you. Sounds good?” 
You gulp and shift your weight in the chair, nodding eagerly. Your fingers fidget against your legs. Agatha doesn’t miss the movement, because of course she doesn’t, and grins.
“And one more thing. No touching yourself,” she adds and your jaw drops. “Don’t pout, baby, it’s not a good look on you.” 
She angles Rio on the bed so you can see her fully and pushes her legs open. Even from where you are sitting, you can tell that she has soaked through her underwear. 
“Fuck,” you whisper under your breath, so desperate to feel her, to taste her. 
Agatha has to peel them off her and then she tosses them over her shoulder without even looking. They land squarely in your lap and you have to take a deep breath to collect yourself before you can reach down and touch them. 
There’s enough wetness that you’re able to collect some on your fingertips and without thinking, you raise your hand to your mouth to taste. You instantly moan and want nothing more than to taste from the source. 
But Agatha has got that covered for now. You watch transfixed as she bends down and licks up Rio’s slit, swirling her tongue when she reaches her clit. Rio gasps and you’re afraid you might be dripping onto the chair. 
“Agatha,” she moans and entangles her fingers into the older woman’s dark hair. 
Agatha slides a finger into Rio while flicking her tongue against her clit and you clench around nothing. You are positively aching at this point and want nothing more than to touch yourself. 
But you want to be their good girl, so you dig your fingertips into the upholstery so hard you think you might be tearing into it a little and fight the urge to grind against the seat. 
Rio’s legs are starting to clamp around Agatha’s head so Agatha practically wrenches them apart so you can see even more. She turns back to look at you for a second, face glistening with Rio’s wetness. 
“She likes when you’re rough with it,” Agatha says, smirking as your jaw slackens. “Scrape your teeth against her clit and fuck her hard with two fingers.” 
She does just that when she focuses back on Rio and Rio’s back arches off the bed, a loud sound escaping from her mouth. Your head lolls back against the chair but your eyes never stray from the two of them. You think a single touch to your clit could make you cum right now. 
“Agatha,” Rio chants, hips bucking against her face, trying to draw her fingers in deeper if possible. You can tell Agatha is hitting her spot just right based on Rio’s gasp with every thrust. You’re squirming now, the ache inside you becoming painful now.”Fuck, I’m going to cum.” 
It’s those words that remind you of listening to them have sex over the phone. The memory of hearing her say it then, and now watching her say it, overpowers your brain and you lightly skim your fingertip against your clit without thinking. The featherlight touch is enough to make you moan involuntarily because of how sensitive you’ve become and the instant you do, you know you’ve fucked up. 
It’s like time slows down. Agatha stops what she’s doing to Rio and they both turn their eyes toward you, nasty smirks on their faces. You yank your hand away from your cunt, heartbeat racing. 
“What did I tell you, baby girl?” Agatha purrs. 
“I’m sorry,” you say lamely. “I couldn’t help it.” 
“Come here,” she orders. You obviously obey. Agatha roughly grips the back of your neck and bends you over the bed so your face is only a few inches away from Rio’s pussy. She takes off your dress and your underwear, throwing them somewhere across the room. “You’re going to show us if you were even paying attention or if you were just thinking about yourself.” 
You’re almost vibrating with need and you nod eagerly. Agatha leans over your body and you get goosebumps by how it feels. 
“I’m going to spank you ten times for breaking the one rule I gave you and you better make her cum before then,” she whispers dangerously into your ear. “Understand?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, already dripping with anticipation. She pulls away and you miss her body heat against yours. She rubs your ass in preparation and you grab Rio’s thighs and haul her to you. You don’t spare any time before licking up her slit hard. Her hand flies down to grip your hair just as the first slap comes. 
You groan, the impact pushing you further into Rio’s pussy and you hear her whimper at the resounding vibration from your sound. You’ve never felt more turned on in your life. 
“One,” you hear Agatha say behind you and you reach your hand up so you can fuck a finger into Rio. Her walls instantly bear down around you and she is so wet and hot. You could die right here, right now. 
You begin to thrust and curl your finger, tongue swirling around her clit, when the second spank hits. This time, your reaction is more controlled and you keep focusing on giving the other woman pleasure. Rio clenches around your finger and her hips are grinding on your face, trying to get more from you. 
Three and four follow soon after. 
“Better hurry up, sweetheart,” Agatha taunts, cupping your pussy to collect your wetness and you almost stop because it feels so good. This time, when she hits you, the sound is a wet smack. You can feel the stickiness when she removes her hand. “Five.” 
You pick up the pace with Rio. Your jaw and wrist are starting to ache and your ass is burning, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping. 
She spanks you again and this time, it’s rougher than the ones before. You gasp into Rio’s pussy and her fingers tighten in your hair. You can tell she’s close. 
“Six.” 
You slide a second finger into Rio, curl them hard, and scrape your teeth roughly against her clit, like Agatha said she likes. 
Rio cums around her fingers with a loud moan, riding them and your tongue through her orgasm. Agatha is chuckling behind you, soothing your ass with her hands. 
“Good girl,” she says, impressed. Rio has gone limp and you can hear her breathing hard. Agatha pulls you back up by your hair and turns you around to kiss you filthily. She sucks on your tongue, moaning at the taste of Rio. Her hand comes up to wipe your cheeks, but instead of cleaning you, she just smears Rio’s juices even more all over your face. “Open.” 
You made an O with your mouth and she shoves two fingers inside, fucking your mouth. She presses hard on your tongue. 
“Such a slut for us,” Rio says and you nod your head around Agatha’s fingers in agreement. 
“Here’s the deal,” Agatha says, pulling her fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “I told you that you had ten spanks and you made her cum in six. So as a reward, those extra four will be orgasms.” 
Your eyes widen. You’ve never cum that many times before consecutively. And you already came once downstairs. You know better than to ask if that counts toward the four, though. 
“Rio, do you want a turn with her?” Agatha asks the woman now perched up on her elbows on the bed. 
“Yeah,” Rio says hoarsely. She climbs over to you and pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss. When she pulls away, Agatha is laying against the headboard, legs open, eyes beckoning. 
You know what she wants you to do. Just like her dream. 
You get on the bed and crawl on your hands and knees until you’re in front of her and then turn around so your back is against her front. Rio situates herself and pries open your thighs. She laughs at how wet you’ve become and bends down to lightly blow on your pussy lips. The air makes your hips jump. You know it won’t take long for you to cum at all. 
And then her tongue is on you and you keen embarrassingly loud. Agatha’s lips find the expanse of your neck and suck, fingers coming up to roll your nipples. Your head falls back and hits the headboard, hands clasping onto Agatha’s thighs and nails digging into the skin. 
“Fuck,” you swear, the stimulation overloading you. “Rio.”  
It doesn’t take much more for you to cum with both of them touching you, especially considering how wet you had been. Rio doesn’t even give you time to come down before she thrusts two fingers in you and your back arches off Agatha’s chest. 
“Fuck, oh my god,” you babble as she mercilessly fucks you, Agatha laughing and biting the juncture of your shoulder and neck. 
You cum again in less than two minutes. 
This time, she slowly pulls out of you and you sag against Agatha, who presses a kiss to the side of your forehead. 
“That’s two,” Rio says, gleefully grinning up at you. “Halfway, doll.” You huff out a breath and close your eyes for a second. Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity. Agatha reaches down to press against it and you jerk in her arms. 
“Can’t,” you whine pathetically. “Too much.” 
“Oh, baby,” Agatha coos in your ear. “You should’ve thought about that before breaking the rules.” 
Rio rolls over on the bed to open the nightstand. She pulls out a vibrator and a dildo attached to a harness. Despite how spent you are, you clench around nothing at the sight. 
“Which one do you want first, doll?” She asks, motioning between the two toys. 
“The strap, please,” you whimper, shakily pointing. Rio’s face lights up in obvious delight and you feel Agatha shift behind you, gently pushing you forward so she can move. You watch, rapt with attention, as she undresses and steps into the harness. Rio helps her and kisses her hotly. 
“Get it ready for me?” Agatha whispers and Rio sinks down to her knees automatically. Your jaw falls open as Rio engulfs the strap-on in her mouth, head moving up and down the length. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. Agatha moans like she can feel it and guides Rio with a hand on the back of her head. When she deems it sufficiently wet, she pulls Rio off and climbs back on the bed. 
She resumes her position against the headboard and pats her thighs. You wearily sit on her lap and she holds your hips and helps you grind against the strap-on. 
“You’re going to be a good girl and ride me, okay sweetheart?” 
You nod and position the tip at your opening. Her hands rest on your hips as you slowly drop down her length, pausing when you finally bottom out. Your breath comes out in stutters because of how full you are. Rio straddles Agatha’s legs behind you and reaches around to rub at your still-tender clit. It makes you more comfortable and you begin to slowly move up and down, getting comfortable with the fullness. 
The two women do barely little to help, Agatha choosing to recline with her hands behind her head and watch you appreciatively, and Rio thumbing at your clit with one hand and toying with your nipple with the other. 
It doesn’t take long for you to get tired though. The toy is perfectly hitting every spot in your pussy but your bounces become shorter and shallower as you try but fail to pick up the pace. 
“Can’t, Aggie, please,” you beg, slowing down and opting to simply roll your hips against her. 
“Poor baby, you need us to do everything for you, don’t you?” She asks, hands coming back to stroke your thighs. Even that small touch adds stimulation. It feels like your whole body is a tight livewire about to explode. 
“Please,” you whine and she and Rio lift you off the strap-on. It falls out of you with a wet plop and you can see it glisten. You feel empty. 
Agatha moves her hands to your hips and helps you turn over so you’re on your hands and knees. She rubs your sore ass and then slides the strap-on up and down your slit, getting it even wetter. 
“Beg,” Rio says, coming to sit in front of you so your eyes are on her. Agatha dips the tip inside you and then pulls it out almost immediately. You feel tears prick your eyes. 
“Please, Agatha, please fuck me,” you whimper. Rio grabs hold of your hair and pulls it tightly. 
“I know you can do better than that.” She looks behind you and you imagine Agatha smirking at her. 
“Need to be fucked so bad, please, please, I want your cock in me, need you to fuck me so well,” you ramble, more words spewing out of your mouth but you’re so far blissed out you don’t even know what you’re saying. Rio nods and Agatha pushes in. 
You fall forward onto your elbows and let out a loud moan as she stretches you out again. Your head falls down and your walls clamp down on the toy. “Fuck,” you cry. She sets a relentless pace from the beginning, her hips making a sound every time they bump against your ass. Rio grabs your throat and squeezes, taking all the breath out of your lungs. She drags you into a kiss like that, never removing her hand. Agatha’s finger swipes at your clit and combined with her fast strokes and Rio’s tongue in your mouth, you cum all over her cock in no time. You’re practically sobbing with pleasure at this point. 
And you still have one more. 
Agatha stays inside you until you finally come down and then she slowly pulls out. Her soothing touches to your lower back make your stomach warm despite your worn-out state. Rio gives you one last kiss and pulls away. 
“You okay, baby girl?” She asks gently. 
“Yeah, just a lot,” you answer weakly. 
“Do you think you can give us one more?” 
You know that you can say no and they’ll stop. But this has been the best sex of your life and you would happily spend the rest of your days in bed with them. You think this is what you’ve always wanted. 
“I can do it,” you affirm, voice sounding more confident than you’d expected. 
“You know,” Rio starts. “Agatha hasn’t cum yet. And doll, since you did such a nice job eating me out earlier, I think it’s only fair that Agatha sits on your face while I make you cum one last time.” You moan at the thought and nod eagerly. 
Agatha smirks and turns you over so you’re laying down, back on the bed. You know you must look like a fucking mess. She moves over your body and before she puts her pussy into your waiting mouth, she pushes strands of sweaty hair out of your face and says, “Just be a good girl for me and let me use you, okay?” 
She doesn’t have to ask twice. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue and with a genuine smile, she drops down onto your waiting mouth. She is so fucking wet that the entire bottom half of your face is practically coated with her already. 
You hear the buzzing from the vibrator and you tense in anticipation, but nothing could prepare you for when Rio holds it against you. 
You buck up so much Agatha is almost thrown forward and you don’t think you’ve ever moaned so loudly. Rio began with one of the higher settings and it’s so intense. Tears fall from your eyes as Agatha grinds even harder on your face and Rio is unwavering in pressing the vibrator to your clit. Noises and gasps fall out of your mouth without you even realizing and you think it must be making the woman on top of you feel amazing because her rhythm starts to stutter and she’s getting louder. 
You think you might be cursing but it’s hard to tell with the toe-curling vibrations and Agatha’s pussy in your mouth. You don’t think you are capable of forming a single coherent thought right now. Your legs are thrashing, your hips are jumping, and you think you might pass out from this. 
“Please,” you hear, rather than feel, yourself say. Your orgasm is approaching, but this time, something feels different. There’s a tension building up in your stomach and it vaguely feels like you have to pee. 
Rio leans over to suck your nipple into her mouth and presses the vibrator even harder against you and you cum explosively with a cry, which triggers Agatha’s orgasm. Rio keeps the toy against you and you have to physically close your legs and pull away because the stimulation hurts. 
Agatha climbs off your face and you look down at Rio, who is literally covered in wetness, wearing a smug grin. 
“What–?” You ask, not really sure of the words. 
“Have you ever squirted before, doll?” She asks and your mouth falls slightly open. You shake your head. You didn’t even know you could do that. “I bet you’ve also never cum that many times either?” Another head shake. 
“You did so good for us, baby,” Agatha says, hand cupping your face and leaning down to chastely kiss your lips. “How are you feeling?” 
“Tired,” you say. “Wanna sleep now.” 
“Let’s get you cleaned up and into some clothes and then we can go to bed, okay?” Agatha being soft warms your heart and you lean into her touch. 
“Okay,” you agree happily. Rio brings over a washcloth and gingerly cleans your pussy off, smirking the tiniest bit at your wince. Agatha helps you into an oversized purple T-shirt and a soft pair of underwear. 
“Do you need anything else?” Agatha asks softly. You shake your head in a state of complete blissfulness. She presses a kiss to your forehead and Rio pulls the sheets over the three of you. 
With you in the middle and both of them draping a comforting arm over you, you fall asleep faster than you ever have. 
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flwrstqr · 6 hours ago
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[⠀谷. ) ✶ ㅤ ENHYPEN WHEN THEY PIN YOU AGAINST THE WALL
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` . . ── 𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝓲𝗖𝗛, they cage you against the wall
( 𝓢. ) bf!enhypen hyung line ⠀⦂ ⠀ f!reader / 1OOOwc. && skinship, est relationship, petnames, fluff ── ARCHiVE ⠀ 。。 ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
heeseung steps into the room, his tie already hanging loose around his neck. "baby, i'm home," he calls softly, a tired smile tugging at his lips as his eyes find yours. you barely manage a response before he starts closing the distance, his long fingers tugging at the knot of his tie, letting it dangle completely undone as he walks closer. "missed you so much today," he murmurs, his voice warm and low. the soft sound of his jacket hitting the couch accompanies the way his gaze locks onto yours, and suddenly your back meets the wall. his arms frame you as he leans in, the familiar scent of his cologne filling the space between you. "baby, i missed you," he whispers, his nose brushing yours. unable to resist, you grab his collar and pull him into a sweet kiss.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘
you were just reaching for something on the counter when jay swooped in, grabbing it before you could, his usual teasing smile in place. "always so impatient, huh, sweetheart?" he says, setting the item down and turning to you, his hand brushing against your waist as he steps closer, backing you gently against the wall. his eyes flicker to your lips, and the playful smirk softens, his voice dropping to a murmur. "you’re not gonna thank me?" you can barely breathe, your heart racing as he leans in, his forehead resting lightly against yours. just as you’re tilting your head up, ready to close the tiny gap, the door bursts open. "yn did you see my—" sunghoon’s voice breaks the moment, and you both freeze. you nearly fumble, pushing lightly at jay’s chest, but he just laughs, stepping back slowly. "relax, sunghoon," jay says casually, shooting him a grin. "she was just thanking me... right, baby?"
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄
you’re reaching for the top shelf, fingertips barely grazing the edge when jake’s voice sounds from behind you, low and teasing. "need some help, baby?" before you can answer, he steps in, his arm easily grabbing the item and handing it over, but instead of moving back, he stays close—too close. when you turn to thank him, you find yourself lightly pinned, his hand resting on the cabinet behind you, his face mere inches from yours. "you know," he starts, a playful grin spreading across his face as his eyes flicker to yours, "you could’ve just asked me instead of struggling. but maybe you like me saving the day, huh?" you roll your eyes, your cheeks heating at how his teasing tone matches the way his other hand brushes your waist. "jake, move," you say, trying to sound annoyed, but he just chuckles. "not until you admit it," he whispers, leaning in ever so slightly.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
you barely have time to process it when sunghoon’s warm hand slides gently to your waist, pinning you against the wall with a playful grin lighting up his face. "you know," he murmurs, his voice low but teasing. "we’re supposed to be studying,” you manage to whisper, but your voice falters as his lips ghost over yours. “maybe this is my way of learning,” he quips back his lips brush yours—light at first, like he’s testing the waters. when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he whispers with a smirk, "maybe we should make this a break... for educational purposes, of course." his laugh is soft, and you can’t help but smile, your cheeks burning.
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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Drabbles: Arcane Characters Accidentally Hurting Their Partner
————————————————————————-
Jinx
Jinx’s grin disappears the second she sees the small cut on your arm, courtesy of one of her misfired gadgets. Her pupils shrink as she stumbles over her words.
“I-I didn’t mean to! I wasn’t aiming for you!” she blurts, her hands hovering as if she’s afraid to touch you.
When you assure her you’re okay, she frowns, grabbing a rag to stop the bleeding. “It’s not okay! I’m supposed to protect you, not…this!”
She doesn’t stop apologizing, even as she wraps your arm. Later, she silently hugs you, her face buried in your shoulder.
Vi
Vi freezes when you flinch, realizing her sparring move had hit you harder than she intended.
“Shit—are you okay?” she asks, dropping into a crouch beside you. Her hands hover nervously as she tries to assess the damage.
When you say you’re fine, she shakes her head. “Fine doesn’t cut it. I shouldn’t have gone that hard.”
She insists on patching you up herself, her brows furrowed with guilt. Later, she pulls you close. “I’ll be more careful next time. Promise.”
Sevika
Sevika’s jaw tightens when she notices the bruise forming on your wrist—an unintended consequence of her grip during an argument.
She doesn’t say anything at first, but when you notice her uncharacteristic silence, she finally mutters, “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”
You try to brush it off, but her eyes flash. “No, don’t. That was my fault.”
She’s gentle with you for the rest of the day, her guilt evident in every soft touch and murmured apology.
Silco
Silco’s expression doesn’t change when you point out the small burn from his lit cigar. However, the way he immediately sets the cigar aside speaks volumes.
“That was careless of me,” he says, his tone measured, but there’s a flicker of concern in his gaze.
When you tell him it’s not a big deal, he shakes his head. “It is to me.”
He carefully applies a salve to the burn, his touch surprisingly tender. Later, he keeps a noticeable distance whenever his cigar is lit.
Vander
Vander’s heart sinks when you wince, your hand flying to your shoulder after an accidental bump during his bar cleanup.
“Damn it, I didn’t see you there,” he says, his voice heavy with guilt.
You try to laugh it off, but he gently guides you to a chair. “Let me take a look.”
He checks on you with the same care he shows his kids, his eyes soft with concern. “I’ll be more careful next time,” he promises, squeezing your hand.
Ekko
Ekko’s stomach drops when he realizes the gadget he tossed over his shoulder hit you instead.
“Crap, are you okay?!” he asks, rushing to your side. His hands flutter around you, unsure where to start.
When you assure him you’re fine, he shakes his head. “No way. That was stupid of me.”
He insists on helping you sit, muttering apologies under his breath. “I owe you, big time,” he says, giving you a sheepish smile.
Jayce
Jayce pales when he notices the grease smudge on your face from a stray spark during one of his experiments.
“I didn’t think it would reach you!” he exclaims, dropping his tools.
You tell him it’s nothing, but he’s already grabbing a cloth and checking for burns. “Nothing? You’re hurt because of me.”
He’s extra cautious after that, keeping you far from his experiments. Later, he kisses your forehead and whispers, “I’ll make it up to you.”
Viktor
Viktor’s heart races when he sees the small cut on your hand from a jagged edge of his prototype.
“Let me see,” he says quickly, his voice tinged with worry.
You try to wave it off, but he frowns. “Please. I should’ve warned you.”
He cleans the cut with delicate care, his movements precise. “I’ll fix the design,” he promises. “It won’t happen again.”
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s eyes widen when she sees the scrape on your arm from her training session.
“I didn’t realize you were that close,” she says, her voice tinged with regret.
When you brush it off, she insists on tending to it herself. “Humor me,” she says with a small smile, though her hands are steady and careful.
Later, she apologizes again, her touch lingering on your arm. “I’ll make sure to keep you safe next time.”
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grapejuicenharry · 2 days ago
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Hello, how is your day going? I don't know if you are actually receiving requests, if not feel free to ignore this. What about you and Harry fighting in the car, maybe you're coming from a date and Harry was really late, the walk home is difficult with him and you start a fight, so she decides to get out of the car and walk home alone.
(English is not my first language so I apologize for any spelling errors that may have been made)
a/n: hello! My day is going well, thank u for asking. And yes, I do receive requests. No need to apologize—your english is great!
warnings: angst with a happy ending (sorry I couldn’t leave them like this!)
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶
It was 9 p.m., and you had been sitting at this restaurant for the past hour, waiting for Harry. Tonight was supposed to be your date night—something planned since last week. You'd even reminded him this morning, but here you were, alone.
It had been Harry's idea to take you out, to spend time together, to simply enjoy each other's company after weeks of him being swamped with studio work.
When he'd suggested it, you were over the moon, practically giddy at the thought of a night just for the two of you. Just boyfriend and girlfriend. 
You'd dressed up for him in the sheer black dress he loves so much, paired with your black stilettos that accentuated your legs. Minimal make up, save for the bold red lips that added a sensual edge to your look. You’d spent over two hours getting ready, perfecting every detail for tonight. But once again, you sat... disappointed. 
He was late. not just ten or fifteen minutes, but a whole one hour. 
Tears started to gather up in your waterline as the waiter approached your table for the third time, politely asking if you were ready to order. You forced a tight smile, declining him once again, murmuring that you were waiting for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but feel like the staff was probably laughing behind your back—this poor woman, sitting alone, waiting like a fool. 
Deep down, you knew it wasn’t an emergency or unavoidable crisis keeping Harry away. He’d used the same excuse too many times: Got busy at the studio, forgot to check my phone. Honestly, you were tired at this point of always coming second, but you know your pathetic heart will forgive him the second he starts blubbering out apologizes because you loved him—and you know he loved you, too. 
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
You discretely wiped a stray tear that has rolled down your cheeks as the sound of commotion at the door caught your attention. Your eyes glanced to the entrance, and there he was—Harry, rushing inside, his eyes searching for her. 
The second he spotted you, he knew he’d fucked up. 
Harry strode over to your table, looking down at you with guilt written all over his face. His shoulders sagged as he spoke. 
“Y/N—fuck, I’m sorr—“ 
You stood up immediately, not wanting to hear a word from him. Grabbing your purse from the table, you turned around and walked away. Ignoring him.
Outside, the cold air hit you like a slap, your hair whipping against your face as tears spilled freely down your cold cheeks. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, desperate to hold it together. 
“Y/N, please—listen to me.” Harry pleads from behind her, his voice begging. He reached out to touch your arm, but you instinctively stepped back, putting more space between you. 
"Don't,” you muttered, wiping your tears. 
Harry froze, his hand hanging in the air for a second before dropping back. 
His heart breaks looking at your state, your mascara slightly smudged, your nose red because of crying, and your cheeks red with biting cold. You looked so vulnerable, and yet you wouldn’t let him near you. The realization crumbles him from inside. 
“I don’t want to hear anything; I want to go home. Just take me home or I’ll book a cab.” 
You whisper, sniffling, your voice hoarse and shaky. 
Harry’s throat tightened, but he nodded, silently stepping forward to open the car door for you. Without a word, you slid into the passenger seat. You fumbled with your seatbelt and stared outside the window. not glancing a look over him as he starts driving. 
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
The drive home is suffocatingly silent. The air inside felt heavy with tension and unspoken words. The only sounds were the low murmur of the radio and the faint hum of the engine in the background. 
Harry's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The tension was evident as his other hand rested idling on his thigh, occasionally rubbing at his jaw in frustration. He wanted so badly to reach for your hand, to rest his palm on your thigh as he'd done countless times before. But he didn't. He couldn't.
It must have been forty minutes or an hour of driving in silence when you spoke, not able to sit in the tension atmosphere anymore. “Are we not going to talk about this?” You snaps.
Harry exhales sharply through his nose, trying to gauge a response: “What do you want me to say, love?" I said I was sorry.” 
Y/N scoffs at his words, her frustration bubbling over. “That’s the problem, Harry. You think an apology fixes everything. It’s not about saying sorry—it’s about not doing it in the first place. You knew how important tonight was for me.” 
Harry’s knuckles turn white on the wheel. “I didn’t get time to check my phone. I was so caught up in the studio—“
“Right, the studio.” Y/N interrupts bitterly, “Always the studio. Always something important than me.” 
The words hang heavy in the air; Harry’s shoulders stiffen. His lips press into a thin line as he pulls the car over the side of the door, and tires crunching against the gravel.
“What are you doing?” You ask, heart pounding.
Harry throws his car into the park and turns to you, his green eyes stormy and dark. “I don’t know what you want from me; I’m doing the best I can.” His voice was low but sharp. 
Your throat tightening at his words, shaking head, “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough.” You whispers, trying to keep your tears at bay.
His eyes flicker, a flash of vulnerability breaking through his frustration, but you can’t take it back now. The tension feels unbearable. Before you could think, You unbuckles your seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. 
“Where are you going?” Harry asks.
“Home.” Y/N bites out, stepping out of the car. The crisp air waves through your hair, goosebumps rising in your body. “I’ll walk.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mutters back before opening the side of his door and stepping outside. 
“Ridiculous?” You whirl around, glaring at him. “What’s ridiculous is me sitting there, pretending that I’m not hurt. Whats ridiculous is you acting like this doesn’t matter” 
Harry’s chest heaves as he looks at you, searching for the right thing to say, but it doesn’t come fast enough; you turn around and start walking, your heels clicking against the pavement. 
You hear Harry calling your name, but you don’t turn around, knowing there is nothing for him to say that would make you feel better—nothing. The chill of air whooshes past you as you hug yourself tighter, wrapping your arms around you, and quicken your steps. 
The sound of his boots crunching against the ground, crisp leaves crushing beneath him as he follows you, the sound growing closer and closer, then you hear him say softly. 
“Y/N, please..stop."
Against your better judgement, you stop. You stop in your tracks at his words and turn around. Harry jogs and comes closer to you; this time you let him... wanting to feel him close. His face morphs into something more painful than that clenched jaw like earlier. The lines of frustration are replaced by something softer, something that aches your chest. 
“I get it,” his voice low, laced with hurt. “You’re hurt. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been late, and I shouldn’t have brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It did; you matter to me.” 
The sincerity in his words cracks your heart walls, the river of tears that you’ve been holding threatening to spill over.
"Harry, it's not just about tonight," you say, your voice trembling. "It's about feeling like I'm always coming second to everything else in your life."
His shoulders drop, and he steps closer, his green eyes fixed on yours. "You're not second, love," he says; the words sound like a plea. "You're the only thing that keeps me going half the time. And I know I've been worse at showing that, but I'll do better. I promise you, I will."
You blink at him, trying to brush away the tears. "You say that, but—"
Before you can finish, his hand gently takes yours. "Look at me," he says softly, and when you do, there's nothing but sincerity written all over his face.
"I'll prove it," he says. "Not just tonight, not just tomorrow—every day. I'll make time. For you. For us. You're the most important thing to me, Y/N. I swear it."
His words sink in, warming the cold that's settled deep in your chest. For a moment, neither of you speaks. 
Then, his thumb brushes over your knuckles, and you realize how much you missed the warmth of his touch; he gently touches them and kisses each of your fingers softly.
"Can I take you home now?" he asks tentatively, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding, the fight in you ebbing away.
"Okay," you whispered.
He lets out a relieved sigh and takes a step closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs into your hair. "I'll make it up to you, love. I promise."
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subversivecynic · 12 hours ago
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It's really really the way of it.
As an adult, not having access to ADHD meds is not great.
But let me offer a motherhood experience: I gave my daughter (prescribed by a psychologist who looked a bit overwhelmed by her energy output) ADHD meds for the first time when she was five. And I absolutely sobbed while watching her visibly engage in play for the very first time.
It was autistic play. It involved putting Legos in colored then size order. She plopped herself down on the floor in the living room and played for a whole hour instead of picking up toys and then throwing it and grabbing the next while bouncing from place to place like an arcade machine ball. It was so beautiful to see I'm tearing up writing about it.
I'm sure she will one day lose her straight edge mindset and try some drugs when she gets older, and it will doubtlessly be a fun time for her. But it's not meth, it's a mediating force
It is genuinely so funny (also infuriating but still funny) to me when people respond to ADHD people taking meds for the first time and going “wow is this how people are supposed to feel???” by acting like those people are taking meth for the first time and getting high and thinking that’s how humans are supposed to feel all the time. And then they get condescending about that.
Like. The reason I am so sure I have ADHD is because I would absolutely not seek this drug out to get high. It has zero recreational use for me, although it clearly does for neurotypical people.
You know what I did the first time I got access to ADHD meds? I sat quietly in a chemistry class, waiting for a boring chemical reaction to take place, basically with Wii music playing in my head, and the waiting didn’t feel physically painful to me the way it did prior to taking meds. I’m told normal people can endure 5-20 minute stretches of doing nothing without boredom becoming painful. I never had before. It was a revelation.
But it absolutely was not like getting high. I could just behave in the exact way I’d been expected to behave for 30+ years without hurting myself doing so. It’s so fucking crazy the hoops I have to jump through to get a vital medication just because some dipshits think I’m getting high off it. Literal meth out of someone’s trailer would be simpler and probably cheaper to acquire if that was what I was after.
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xoxxbilliexoxx · 2 days ago
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Friends? Just Friends?
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After years of being friends with Billie, the sexual tension comes to an all time high and can’t be ignored any longer. You finally let her teach you exactly what it feels like to be with a woman
This is super long but I promise it’s worth it ;)
Y/N Pov
I walk over to the speaker, turn it on, and ask Billie what playlist she wants to hear. It’s a chill Sunday afternoon, and after Billie and I woke up around noon, we’ve been lying in bed watching TikTok and yapping. Billie slept over last night after a late night at a friend's party. It seems like these days I don’t spend many nights without Billie in my bed, or me in hers. We’ve been friends for years but a while ago we both expressed how bored and lonely we each had been, and started hanging out almost all the time. Now a few months later, she's definitely my best friend, always attached to each other's hips. I finally pulled myself out of bed a little while ago, and now it is unfortunately time for my Sunday routine. Billie knows it well by now since she’s been forced to be a part of it week after week.
“Let's do some bossa nova this week, I’m in the mood to move my hips” Billie laughs back at my question. We’ve bonded over our love for international music and it has been slowly added into the Sunday routine, choosing a different type each week once I finally force myself out of bed, cleaning up my room while Billie's lazy ass stays under the comfy sheets goofing off on her phone and telling me all her crazy thoughts. She starts seductively moving her hips beneath the blankets as she laughs and hums to the Brazilian guitar purring through the speaker. I look over at her as I lean down to pick up the dirty clothes that have accumulated in the corner of my room, laughing back at her.
As I stand up and try to turn around, I feel my foot slide out from under me, seemingly having been planted on a dirty pair of underwear I missed. I hit the floor with a loud thunk and Billie darts to the corner of the bed, not even trying to hide her laughter as she tries to calm down long enough to ask if I’m okay. I turn my head to follow her voice, and all I can see is her head extending off the bed, hovering over me, leaving me laughing just as loud as she is. “Oh my god, I will never not make fun of your clutsy ass ending up on the floor” she yells out between her giggles, trying hard to catch her breath as she points down at me laughing more as she mocks my fake hurt face.
I grab the first thing I can find next to me and throw it at her face before pretending I’m mad, yelling for her to quit being a bitch and help me get up. She dramatically dodges whatever it is coming for her face then leans her hand up catching it. As she opens her hand and realizes it's my black thong I wore last night, she acts as if shes absolutely disgusted before she laughs and throws it back at me. “Bitch don’t you ever throw ur crusty ass panties at my face again,” she says with a tight smile, letting me know she doesn’t actually care. I open my mouth gasping at her words, “crusty? Whose panties you calling crusty cuz they sure as hell aren’t mine” I say, before standing up from the floor and grabbing them to add them to the laundry bin. “My kitty is nice and clean, and so are my underwear,” I add, as I turn to her, knowing she hates when I call it my kitty.
“Yea yea,” she laughs, before jumping off the bed, “I bet it is,” she whispers, leaning her head close to mine before winking and walking to the bathroom. I take a second to look for something next to say, not coming up with anything. Billie and I have always walked a fine line of flirting and just joking around as friends. It's clear we both do it, but we’ve never acknowledged it. Instead, it just stays in our presence, like a thick tension we pretend we don’t feel. I feel it all too well though, always holding an intense attraction to her, since the day I met her. Quite honestly it was even before that, when I was still just a fan of hers and never thought I’d end up her best friend. That is another whole story though.
Ever since I told Billie I thought I might be gay, the tension has only grown, yet we continue not to recognize it, like we are both terrified of what might happen if we do. I decide in a split second to be bold, regretting the words as soon as they come out of my mouth, “Nice and clean and with no one to show it to,” Billie whips her head back at me with a smile, toothpaste spilling out the sides as she laughs and wipes it away, rubbing it shamelessly on the big t-shirt she slept in. I giggle a bit before finding my confidence again. Maybe this damn bossa nova is getting to my head but I feel the tension as thick as its ever been. I catch a look in her eyes that I haven’t seen before, like shes thinking about what I look like under these boxers. “No *girl* to show it to”, adding emphasis to my words as I correct my previous statement.
I turn around and walk towards my desk as silence falls between us. I begin picking up all the makeup on my vanity, continuing on with my cleaning, letting the bossa nova fill my head again. I can hear Billie finishing in the bathroom, clinking her toothbrush on the side of the sink before setting it back in the cup and walking into my room again. She settles on the edge of the bed in criss-cross, watching me clean and hum along with the guitar.
“So you’ve thought more about it then, huh?” she asks me delicately, knowing we haven’t talked about it in a while. I look into the mirror and find her eyes on the bed behind me, eyes that have already found me. I turn around to face her before I shrug my shoulder. “I mean I think about it constantly, I just feel so nervous about it all. I really think I’m into women but I don't know where to go from here” I answer her, but continue on after a brief pause. “Actually, I know I’m into women, regardless it's scary as fuck…. Women are scary as fuck” I laugh out. “You’re cute,” Billie says with a little giggle. It comes out in a friendly way, but the way she continues to stare at me after she says it doesn’t match the solely friendly tone of voice. I pick up a shirt lying on the bench of my vanity and throw it at her head, harder than the panties this morning. It hits her right on the forehead and she sprawls out on the bed dramatically, acting far more hurt than she was. “Oh stop being dramatic and get ur lazy ass up, it's time to go downstairs and clean the kitchen,” I say as I walk over and pull her up by her arms. As I let go and walk out of the room with Billie following behind me, I turn to look at her, “at least it wasn’t another pair of my nasty crusty disgusting thongs” I saw with a big mocking smile, puckering my lips sending her fake kisses like we always do when we are making fun of each other. Yet again we have managed to completely ignore the tension we are both choking on.
TIME JUMP TO THAT NIGHT
Billie and I are sitting on the couch waiting for our postmates to arrive and watching some shitty rom com on that we both picked from the image alone. We already had cold vegan pizza for dinner and are on our second bottle of wine. This is just another classic sunday evening, junk food, wine, and a postmated dessert to finish off the normal routine. When I first met Billie I watched as she drank her sodas and water while everyone else around her drank mixed drinks and beer. She made it clear publicly that she didnt drink, and when I finally asked her why she told me she had no problem with alcohol or the idea of drinking she just hated every drink she ever tried.
One night when we very first started these constant sleepovers she tried a taste of my favorite wine and loved it. A few weeks later she and I shared a bottle and I had the privilege of watching her experience the drunk world for the first time. Nowadays, we usually each have a glass every Sunday night, and occasionally we will have a girl's night and drink more than a few glasses while we watch shitty movies. Tonight was turning into one of those nights, having just stocked up on our favorite when I went to Target earlier. I walk into the kitchen to pop open the second bottle and ask if Billie wants more. She excitedly grabs her glass and runs into the kitchen after me, purposely sliding with her socks on the kitchen tile as she laughs.
The couple of times Billie has ever been drunk have all been with me, and it’s very clear she is a goofy drunk. This girl is already the funniest person I know when she is sober, but being around her while she's drunk has my abs hurting from laughing. She is quite a lightweight, with her infrequent drinking and her tiny body, so usually we just finish a bottle and a half, before we get messy drunk. We both enjoy being just past tipsy, still in control, still with a filter to our thoughts, but just a little more light-hearted and silly.
When we finish the movie and go in for a refill before starting a new one, we look at each other shocked when we pour out the last drops of the second bottle. “Did we drink all of that?” Billie laughs, her cheeks rosy and her eyes big. “Ruh roh” she yells out before laughing and lifting her glass to take the last sip. “I think we just broke our pathetic previous record,” I giggle back at her. “Should we open another??” she asks me, her words making it clear she is leaving it up for me to decide. I can tell she’s never been this drunk, yet I know she’s nowhere near dangerous drunk, or even messy drunk. “Fuck it let's do it” I shout a little too loudly before I grab another bottle out of the fridge.
TIME JUMP (Smutty time)
Our empty wine glasses are sitting on the coffee table in front of us as we lay under the blankets and watch the movie the TV put on automatically after our first movie finished. We are about 20 minutes in and it's becoming incredibly clear this is not at all similar to the cheesy straight rom-com that came before it. I feel my breath catch in my throat and all the wine-filled blood run to my center when the TV fills with the images of two women making out, one being thrown on the bed while the other climbs on top of her. As the sex scene keeps going, I remember that this is Netflix, and they are putting straight-up soft porn in their movies now.
I feel the pool forming in my underwear as I watch this graphic, incredibly hot lesbian sex scene play out in front of me. My drunk face must not be hiding what I'm feeling well because as Billie turns to look at me, she lets out a loud laugh. “Baby you look like a deer in headlights,” she says, still quietly giggling, her drunkenness showing through in the sound of her laughter. I swallow loudly before looking at her and then back at the TV. The moans get louder as we watch one of the girls reach her peak, the other continuing to go down on her. I shift awkwardly on the couch, trying not to make it too obvious how much that affected me, how turned on it got me. The combination of the wine, the hot lesbian sex in front of us, and the sexually charged tension Billie and I shared earlier is making it impossible for me to look Billie in the eyes, too scared of what I might say or do. Billie is still staring at me as my eyes stay glued on the screen, the scene still playing out. I feel her torso lifting up from the couch and getting closer to me before smiling and whispering, “You wish that was you, huh? Sitting here wondering what it must be like to get fucked by a girl… or fuck a girl yourself” she stays close to me, swallowing and giggling before continuing. “It's fucking incredible, better than you could even imagine,” she says matter of factly. The tension is as thick as it could possibly get, almost like I could see it taking over my entire body, and just by looking at Billie it's clear she feels it too.
Before I can stop myself, I spring towards Billie. My momentum picking up as I get closer. Realizing what I’m doing, I pause, scared to move at all. Billie grabs my face, pulling me the rest of the way to her and our lips crash together. Months of building tension all explode at once as our tongues slide against each other, eagerly slipping between one another's lips, no longer hiding how badly we want each other. “Show me, Billie,” I say, pulling back enough to get my words out and swallow. “Show me what it feels like to be with a girl,” I finish. “you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words” she confesses as she stands up, pulling my hand to follow her to my room. We both lightly stumble down the hallway, giggling from the wine and the anticipation of what is to come.
As we make our way into my room I turn on my favorite lamp- it has a dark pink light bulb that glows so nicely in my room at night. I throw myself onto the bed and land right next to Billie, both of us taking a second to laugh at my ridiculous jump before getting quiet again. She turns on her side to face me and I do the same. My hair falls in front of my face as I turn. Billie’s hand comes up, brushing it out of the way before kissing me again, pulling me in tight against her as our legs dance together. Her leg finds its way between mine and as our kiss gets heated again she pushes up against my core. I let out a slight whine as Billie’s hands hit my waist, pushing me harder against her thigh and pushing her tongue into my mouth.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so horny, been so wet, or wanted someone more in my life. Billie’s head finds its way to my neck as she begins placing light kisses against my skin. When she bites down and pushes her thigh against my clit harder, I let out a deep moan that I swear has been growing in me for months. “Mmmmhhhmm, Billie…” I huff as I begin grinding my hips shamelessly against her thigh, begging for any pleasure at this point. Billie's shorts have slid all the way up her leg, leaving her thigh bare and able to feel my soaked shorts gliding against her as I move my hips faster.
I feel her wet lips hit my ear, biting it gently as she breathes out. It is as if my body is on fire, every single nerve ending I have lighting up at once, every touch suddenly feeling sexual. I am melting at her every move and she hasn’t even touched me yet. If this is what it feels like to be with a girl, I want it forever. “Billie please” I whine out, desperation filling my voice as I grind my core harder against her. My wet shorts rub tightly against my clit with every move I make and I feel like I could cum from this alone. A slight embarrassment creeps up, slowing my hips as I realize how close I am to cumming, just from her thigh against my pussy. I grab the back of her head as she continues sucking and biting on my neck. Quiet moans continue spilling from my lips as my head begins to race. Is this a thing in lesbian sex? Am I crazy for doing this? Should I stop?
As my mind continues to take control and ruin my pleasure Billie interrupted the thoughts, almost as if she could hear them out loud. “Don’t stop grinding on my thigh until I feel your cum drench my skin, keep going for me Y/N I know it feels good” Her words are exactly what I needed, making my pussy clench tightly. I grab her chin and pull her into a deep kiss as her hands snake under my shirt and reach my bare chest. She squeezes my big boobs hard before pinching my nipple, giggling as I yelp into her mouth. She continues toying with my hard nipples as I pull away from her lips, too caught up in the pleasure to keep kissing. Each time she pinches and pulls at my bud I groan louder and move my hips faster. Billie catches on quickly, continuing her fun on my boobs, dragging me closer and closer to the edge, flooding every part of my body with overwhelming pleasure. I find my way to her neck, needing to feel closer to her, placing open-mouth kisses all over. I earn a quiet gasp from her when I hit a sweet spot, and latch on tighter.
As I kiss her harder, biting on her skin, continuing to pull moans from her, she suddenly pushes her thigh in a new angle right as I speed up my movements, throwing me over the edge. I grab her tight, pulling her as close to me as she can possibly be. My head is still nuzzled into her neck, my mouth hanging open as loud moans pour from my lips, lips that continuing lightly connect with her skin. My legs shake as she grabs both my hips and continues to move them for me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm for as long as possible. I hold my breath, shocked at the pleasure I am experiencing just from her thigh on my body. A light hum sings from her lips as I finally come down from such a powerful orgasm. I hold her tight as I catch my breath, needing to feel her close to me, trying to process the feelings I am beginning to understand, feelings I felt for her for a long time. Billie giggles as she rubs my back, helping ground me and letting me take my time with my descent back to earth. I finally pull my head from out of her neck and grab her face, needing to kiss her hard before anything is said, trying to gather my thoughts. I let my back fall onto the mattress as I laugh and breath out, still shocked at what was happening, shocked that Billie, my best friend, the girl I’ve secretly been attracted to for years, just pushed me to the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.
“there ya go baby,” Billie says as she climbs on top of me, grabbing my chin, pulling me in for an intensely hot kiss before placing her lips on my forehead. “now let me clean you up” she whispers in between kisses, kisses that started as pecks and are now becoming more and more sloppy. She lifts my shirt up and I grab it, pulling it over my head needing to be free. “Can I see you too Billie?” I ask, a slight innocence and vulnerability peaking out of my words as I hold my fingers at the base of her shirt, slightly sliding it up. She smiles and sits up, tugging the shirt over her head and reaching behind her, immediately taking off her sexy black lace bra. My heart skips a beat when I watch her perfect big boobs drop to their natural, beautiful position. I lay myself up on my elbows pulling her closer, needing them in my mouth. I kiss lightly before wrapping my lips all the way around her nipple, circling my tongue around her bud as one of my hands plays with her free boob. “Ooo baby fuck… y/n mmmm” she sings, her hands pushing my head towards her as I continue on exploring her breasts.
She pushes me away and lays her own lips on my chest, eagerly moving down my body. “I need to taste you, mama, take these slutty little shorts off for me” She pulls at the waistband as I lift my hips up, helping her slide them off of me before laying back down. Her words make my pussy clench, pushing out more of my juices. She grabs both my thighs gripping them hard as she spreads them, groaning loudly as she sees my wet core for the first time ever. I swallow hard, the vulnerability of my exposed pussy hitting me all at once, wanting to hide from her, covering my face with my arm. Billie clearly senses my emotions, knowing me all too well. She places a light kiss on my upper thigh, then another on the other side. “Oh y/n you’re so perfect… sexier than I could have ever imagined,” she kisses my upper thigh again before continuing, “and I’ve thought about it a lot” I whine at her words, the hunger pushing away the vulnerability, and right as I’m about to beg for her tongue, she latches on. Still so sensitive from my last orgasm, I’m unable to hold in any of my moans, immediately drunk from the pleasure yet again. I grab her hair hard and push her against me as my hips buck. “Fuck Billie your tongue feels so good” my moans interrupt my own words, throwing my head back as her tongue circles my swollen clit. “oh baby, fuck Billie please don’t stop, fuck” my words fuel her on as she gets even more intense. It feels like she’s devouring me, eating me alive like she's been starved forever. She comes up for air and we make eye contact. I swallow back my drool as I stare at her, unable to process just how sexy she looks. Her eyes look black from her massive lust-filled pupils and her chin is covered in my cum, dripping down as she licks her lips. “Your pussy tastes so fucking good, mmm I can’t get enough of you” and with that her tongue is back on me, flicking and slurping, swallowing and circling, tasting every inch of my core.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get better, two fingers pump into me, filling me perfectly. I gasp and shake underneath her, beginning to feel overstimulated by the pleasure she gives me. I feel as if im floating, like this is all just a fever dream, it cant be possible for sex to feel this good. “God, fuck, baby. Fuck Billie yesssss” I struggle to get my words out as my hands dart around the bed, trying to find anything to grab hold of, something to anchor me to this bed as I feel my stomach contracting. “I feel you pulsing on my fingers mama, let go for me, cum on my fingers like the good girl I know you are” Her voice is raspy and low, sexier than I’ve ever heard it before. Her nasty words flood my mind and I scream as I feel her lips wrapped around my clit again, sucking and licking as she curves her fingers upward and hits my g-spot. She keeps devouring me and moaning into my pussy as she speeds her fingers up and I feel like I’m about to black out. Thank god I live alone because I don’t think I’ve ever been louder in my life. “Billie Im about to cum, fuck it feels so good please don’t stop” She smiles into my cunt as she flicks her fingers inside of me, doing a come here motion as she pumps them in and out, stimulating me in a way I have never been stimulated before. It feels like she knows my body better than I even do, like shes been fucking me like this for years. She keeps up the motions of her fingers as she flattens out her tongue and pushes it hard against my clit, moving her head side to side. “Oh my goddddd” I scream out as I begin shaking underneath her, being hit with my second orgasm, one that is somehow twice as strong as the first. “Fuck Billie yes fuck” I can’t get all my words out before needing to scream and moan again. “Im cumming baby fuck, f-fuckkkkkkk”
the last of my sentence turns into a deep moan as she keeps going. Keeps plowing her fingers into me, keeps moving her tongue side to side on my clit, keeps lighting me up with intense pleasure. I feel a new sensation as she continues to overstimulate me. It’s something I’ve never felt before and it's stronger than any orgasm I’ve ever had. “Wait billie, fuck, please oh god” She lifts her head up from my clit but speeds up her fingers. My eyes are squeezed shut and my lungs are frozen, unable to breath. I feel like my body is full of stars, like im no longer all the way here. My knuckles ache from how tightly im grabbing the sheets but somehow the pain fuels my orgasm more as it continues to take control of my body. “Billie stop I think i’m about to—” I can’t get my words out fast enough before the gates open and I pour out all over her chest and fingers, squirting hard. I try to move my hips but she grabs me, holding me where I am as I continue spilling out onto her. Screams meet with the wet sounds of my pleasure and I can’t take it any longer. “Okay okay billie fuck im done, im done” I say as my back returns down on the bed and I feel air fill my lungs again. My legs continue to shake and my pussy clenches around her fingers in a rhythm, like it has a heartbeat of its own.
She lays her head down on my thigh as she slowly pulls her fingers out of me. The movement causes me to groan and shake again, a clear indication of just how overstimulated I am. She looks at me, making sure I’m watching as she licks her fingers clean, moaning at the taste of them. As I sit up on my elbows and watch her lick her lips I look down to see her boobs covered in all my juices, wet and dripping, as sexy as they could possibly be. She catches me looking and smirks. “If I wasn’t so fucked out I would be licking my juices off those sexy boobs” I say with a new found confidence. She crawls up me and kisses me softly, letting my tongue slip between her lips and around hers. “You taste good don’t you baby” she moans, before pulling me tight against her naked wet chest. Our boobs rub together and our connection feels electric. “You know I’ve never squirted before, you’re the first” I say, glowing from all the pleasure I just experienced. “I didn’t even know sex
could feel that good” i laugh admitting it then feeling embarrassed. “Welcome to sex with women” she giggles as the words come out, “I feel lucky to be the first of many for you baby, I’ve been wanting you for so damn long, I gotta admit it” she kisses me on my cheek and grabs my nipple playfully making me yelp. “I been dreaming about this for a long time too, Billie” I confess with a smile, looking back at her. “Good things there’s a whole lot more firsts for me to have” I say playfully as I grab her boob again.
I pull her closer to me, both of us back on our sides facing eachother. I crave a type of intimacy with her that I have avoided with every one of my partners for years. Maybe I really am gay and it’s just because shes a woman. Or, maybe, if I let myself really think about it, its because its Billie. My hand falls over her body onto her bare back and my fingers begin lightly dancing over her skin. She snuggles into me tighter and humms. Being in Billie’s arms feels like home. My cheeks flush as I realize that the love I feel for her is not the love you feel for a friend, it is so so much more than that. Its the type of love that terrifies me, or at least it has in the past. For some reason I don't feel scared at all right now, I feel quite the opposite actually.
I continue rubbing her back as our breathing slows, both melting into one another. She breaks the silence with a silky voice, “I think I could stay like this forever” my heart skips a beat at her confession, bringing a calm warmth throughout my body. “I’d like that a lot Billie” she lifts her head from the crook of my neck just long enough to place a kiss on my forehead, before snuggling back into me tighter. We lay like this for a minute before I interrupt. I giggle quietly to myself and she looks up with a curious expression, her eyebrows knit together but a smirk on her lips, “what the hell are you so giggly about?” she says, laughing with me now. “Does this mean,” I giggle again slightly more bashfully this time, before I continue. “Does this mean I get to learn all about lessssbbiiann sexxxxx with you?” I can’t help but say it in a goofy, slightly mocking tone, emphasising my purposefully ridiculous word choice. “Sure does baby girl, sure doesssssssss” She laughs out, matching the playful energy. “Ooo la la” I sing, pulling a laugh from both of us as we lay back down. I can’t help but feel overwhelming excitement for whats to come.
Should I continue on with the story??
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