#so instead of writing my own fics i decided to make things for my friends

[incognitoleeknow]

The College Blonde

Synopsis:

After getting stuck trying make your assignment deadline, you find your life taking a quick turn for the pleasurable when you meet a stunning blonde who seems to be just the thing you needed to reignite your creativity.

Pairing: Dom!Femreader x Sub!Felix

Genre: Porn w/o plot, smut

Word count: 3.2k

College AU. Porn without plot. Lust at first sight. Strangers to lovers. Jeongin makes a cameo in the beginning as MC's best friend. Pleasure-dom reader. Submissive Felix. Mommy kink (Felix calls reader "mommy" once). Slight dacryphilia. Light orgasm denial. Reader uses nicknames like "good boy, kitten". Body worship. Blowjob (Male receiving). Corruption kink. Y/N POV.

A/n: This is my first time writing a fic so be as brutal as you wish. Also, I'm not a native english speaker and I spell like a rake so grammatical errors and spelling errors are bound to be found. You have been warned. Enjoy!

Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ only.

This is an original work. Do not repost, re-upload or otherwise redistribute.

© Novemer 2024 by IncognitoLeeKnow.

"Thank you for cheering me up today. I honestly don't know what I would do without you." 

You took an elongated sip from your americano, sighing in delight as you felt the icy liquid pass your tongue, temporarily relieving you from the blistering summer heat. 

"You didn't leave me much of a choice now, did you?" Jeongin said as a playfull smirk creeped up the corners of his mouth.   

"Oh, Yeah?" You looked up with a raised eyebrow, taking a small break from the date with your iced americano. 

"We both know you could never say 'no' to me." You flickered your eyebrows in a playfull display of challange, a satisfactory smile taking form on your plump lips. 

Sighing in defeat, Jeongin leaned back into the soft leather cushions of the Cafe chair. Followed by a soft chuckle as he said,

"Yeah well, you got me there I guess. So how's the paper coming along?" Concern in his voice apparent, albeit unessesary. 

You knew he was referring to this semesters paper. And even though it started off as a fun and easy assignment, you had now hit the dreaded fictional wall. Apparently any topic could get you feeling bored and filled with anxiety, given lack of creativity. 

A small bump in the road, you were sure. The typical cycle of the creative progress. For inspiration surely is lucrative albeit a fleeting thing, and you suppose you would have to simply wait, until creativity decided to grace your mind with its presence once again. 

Insert Jeongin and your eager request to meet him for coffee. You were best friends and had been since the second week of college. You had been late, as you usually were, running across campus with hurried steps in futile hopes of getting to the lecture hall before your professor. 

That same morning, however, your sleep ridden brain failed to remember how to tie your shoelaces. Instead opting for the much faster approach of simply tucking said laces into the sides, between your shoe and your feet. Resulting in the typical sitcom fall-over-your-own-feet plot, successfully yeeting your body towards the ground at a horrifying speed. 

Standing just a few feet away observing the borderline comical fall, Jeongin hurried over to you and asked if you were okay. 

A quick visit to the nurses office, thanks to repeatedly insisting on Jeongin's part, you found yourself earning a sprained wrist along with your first college friend. 

"Y/N?" Jeongin asked with slite concern. 

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I must've spaced out for a second. What was the question again?" You asked as you shook your head, slowly blinking your eyes, trying to snap back to reality. 

"You seem stressed, are you okay?" He said as he leaned forward, taking your hands in his own. 

"Nah, it's not as bad as it might appear. I think I just need to blow off some steam, you know?" You gave his hands a reassuring squeeze, thankful for his genuine concern. 

"Some steam, ey?" Mischievous smile returning to his lips along with a playful eyebrow raise. 

"Oh come on, you know what I mean. I just need to have a night out with friends or something." You said, shaking off Jeongin's suggestive sarcasm.

 Although you would have lied if you would had said that the thought of a steamy night with a stranger did not intrigue you. 

To be completely honest with yourself, the thought alone made you clench around nothing. But where would you even find someone? On campus? Not a fucking chance. 

***

With a huge smile on your lips, you waved goodbye to your friend, feeling somewhat relieved for the first time in a hot minute. 

You took a deep breath, letting the sent of greenery and sunshine envelope your senses. You could feel your muscles slowly relaxing as you stretched your body, arms high above your head. 

With a newly given optimism and drive, courtesy of your bff, you decided to take the opportunity to go to the campus library, in hopes of finding some additional inspiration for your paper. 

Walking with slow, unhurried steps you went through the campus park, taking in the scenery around you, coming to a stop before the fountain placed in the center of the grounds. 

You had always liked this fountain and the majestic water display it provided. 

Taking a few minutes to admire the way the water elegantly sprayed from the unpolished steel structure. Your mood brightened by the way the droplets formed an array of colors in the sunlight, gleefully watching as they bounced playfully against the wet surface and reconnected with the marbled pool at the base. 

Indeed, the soothing sound of water hitting the wet surface, was you favorite. Surely nothing could be more relaxing than this. 

Closing your eyes, you let the world disappear into the background as time seemingly came to a halt around you. 

Ah, peace of mind...

You exhaled a deep breath with feeling of an oncoming gentle, warm summer breeze. 

The presence of another soul beside you, made you quickly snap back to reality however, effectively bursting the ethereal bubble you created with a loud 'pop'. 

A hint of annoyance crossed your features, as you slowly cracked an eye open to see the person responsible. 

Your annoyance, was quickly replaced by sheer astonishment followed by a hushed gasp as your eyes took in the being standing beside you. If you did not know any better, you would have sworn you were looking at an angel. He was long, muscular in built with broad shoulders and long, blond traces elegantly falling along his sharp jawline. Beautiful, wooden eyes and a galaxy of freckles displayed across rose tinted cheeks. He was starring ahead, at the fountain no doubt, seemingly oblivious to your less than stellar reaction to his visuals. 

You forced yourself out of your trance. Feeling somewhat embarrassed by your blatant display of lack of self-control. You absent-mindedly looked at your watch trying to, unsuccessfully, appear unaffected by the stunning stranger. 

"Shit!" 

Your sudden exclamation startles the poor boy beside you, making his eyes follow you in confused horror as you took off sprinting towards the library, remembering your upcoming assignment deadline.

***

Time sure flies fast when you are looking at a whole God damn meal. Unfortunately time moves slower than a fucking snail when you are doing an assignment you do not have even the 10th of as much of an interest doing.

With the deadline for your paper being only a couple of weeks away, you felt the pressure of adulthood on you. With a sigh, you closed yet another book you found failed to provide you with the information you needed. Pushing back your chair, you got up to start umpteenth round of ramaging the many sections of the library. 

You walked torwards the deepest end of the library, the part reserved for professors who once or twice a year came to refresh their memory of some long forgotten trivia or, the occasional horny campus couple looking to spice up their sexual endeavors. You suppose it was the perfect place for privacy, given the lack of sunlight as well as the lack of efficient lighting of space. Leaving visitors with less than pleasant experience, at least if you were actually looking for something. 

You went from hardback to hardback, squinting your eyes trying decipher the titles, looking for that one book Jeongin said "will definitely help you". 

Trolleys with books crammed the isle, no doubt to the fault of the newly appointed campus librarian who always seemed to be more interested in hitting on whatever cute girl walked past, instead of actually doing his job. You made a mental note to remind him of his duties at a later time. 

Without much attention spared to the snug space that surrounded you, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt as your face connected with something halfway through the giant bookshelf. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you" You said reflexively as you lifted your gaze to meet the person in front of you. 

"No worries, mate" the deep voiced, blonde stranger replied, flashing an innocent smile that might as well have blinded you. 

You instantly recognized him, and of course anyone would. The beauty of this man was unforgettable, to say the least. You were a bit taken aback by his deep voice, the depth of it unexpected, given his angelic face. 

You gave a polite nodd his way and he smiled as he returend to reading the book in his hands. 

Not wanting to disturb his reading session, you quietly moved to get past him, to continue your search. The small passageway and seemingly endlessly littered books and trolleys making your efforts damn near impossible. 

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but I really need to get to the other side" you flashed an apologetic smile while pointing past the blonde with your finger as if the reason for you needing to get past him was not blithely clear already. 

He followed the gesture of your hand, and quickly answered.

"Oh, Yeah. Of course, go ahead. Miss...?" 

"Y/N." You quickly finished his sentence. "And you are..?" 

"I'm Felix, nice to meet you Y/N." he smiled as he turned, pressing his body as tightly as he could against one of the bookshelves, signaling with his hands for you to go past him. 

"Thank you." You said gratefully, adding a small head-bow. As you took a step closer, you angled your body face-to-face with his, thinking it to be the lesser of two evils. 

Your bodies painfully flushed together as you tried to wiggle your way past him and the unfortunately placed trolly, that for whatever reason seemed to be welded to the floor. His hands moved to hold the sides of your t-shirt in an attempt to help stabilize your steps. 

His cologne engulfed your senses with the close proximity, making you clench around nothing as you could feel wetness starting to form between your legs as your body unconsciously moved an inch closer to the man infront of you. 

You dared a glace at him, pleasantly surprised at the sight you were met with. 

Felix's cheeks had flushed a pink hue, eyes closed in an apparent attempt at self-restraint, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

Cute... 

Your body moved as if on que, your mind not even registering your movements before your hands made contact with the flushed blonde before you, tracing feather light, experimental touches across the sides of his torso, gliding up to settle on the pecks of his chest. His grip on your shirt tightend as a barely audible whimper escaped his lips. 

The delighted smirk on your face met by his surprised one. Seemingly unable to register the sound that had previously escaped him. 

"I- I'm Sorry..." he cleared his throat, embarrassed eyes turning away as his small voice trailed off mid-sentence. 

Perfect... 

A wicked smile on your lips, you leaned into his ear and whispered,

"That's one hell of a delicious sound you got there, Kitten" you leaned back to look at him as his eyes snapped back to meet yours, unsure if he had heard you right. 

Your lustful eyes made him swallow thickly. You felt his cock twitch against your core and the color of his cheeks turned from pink to a deep crimson, spreading all the way to his ears. You licked your lips. His breath hitching in anticipation as you moved to close the distance between you.  

You raised your hands to cup his burning cheeks, trapping him in a passionate kiss, taking away whatever little resolve he had as he melted into your touch. 

One hand taking a firm grip of the roots of his hair, gently pulling him back, deepening the kiss, the other tracing down his chest, past his chiseled abs, stopping at the apparent bulge to stroke some much needed relief over his strained core. The sound of wet kisses and whimpers filling the tight space between bookshelves. 

You broke the kiss to give room for a much needed oxygen boost. Your lungs desperately deprived of air, and by the looks of it, you were not the only one. Felix was panting helplessly, pleading eyes begging you not to stop. 

"Tell me what you want" voice hushed and sultry, devilish eyes meeting his hooded ones. Felix broke eye contact, seemingly embarrassed of the thought of voicing his desires. You pressed you chest to his, warm breath making him shutter as it fanned over the shell of his ear.

"Use you words Kitten, and I'll make you feel real good, yeah?"

Moving slowly downward, you let your tongue taste his neck before leaving a trail of wet kisses along his collarbone. 

You unbuttoned his pants, letting your hand slip inside the leathery material. Teasingly stroking his length as you coaxed the boy to speak. 

"I want to... ah... t-touch you." he finally mustered between staggered breaths. His husky, submissive tone sent a shot of electricity straight to your core, making your cunt throb.

"If you want to touch me, you'll have to earn it, Kitten." Crouching down to your knees, you placed your hands on the back of his thighs. Stroking reassuring circles with your thumbs before teasing digits followed the outline of his clothed muscles, stopping by the hem of his pants. 

You swiftly removed the piece of clothing, freeing his cock with a slight bounce and left the fabric to pool around his ankles. 

His breath clung to his lugns, turning into a relieved moan of as he felt you wrap your hand around his base, gently gripping him. His muscles tensed beneath your hand as you applied a bit more pressure. You kept eye contact with him as you reached out to taste his twitching cock. Going base to tip in one painfully slow drag with your hot, wet tongue, you eventually shut your eyes. A satisfied hum escaped your throat as the salty precum connected with your taste buds.

As you opened your eyes to reap the fruits of your labor, you felt his member twitch expectantly in your hands as your eyes met. Hooded eyes filled with lustful anticipation, his body trembled with your every touch in the most delicious display of sinful submission. 

Oh, what a delectable scene to behold. 

You moved to grip the hem of his shirt pulling it upwards, exposing his sculpture abs with it. You took your time admiring the way his honey glossed skin prickled as you applied feather light kisses to them. He really must have been hand crafted by Venus herself. His waist was slim, shoulder wide. He was not just pretty, he was gorgeous. You had to mentally slap yourself to keep yourself focused. 

"Here Kitten, be a good boy and hold this in your mouth for me." Felix wasted no time following your command, his hand trembled as he reached to take the fabric out of your way. 

"Words Kitten..." you commanded, voice low and hushed. 

"Y-yes, Mommy" he breathlessly stiffled out as he placed the fabric between his teeth. 

The sudden impromptu nickname surprised you.

It was an unexpected answer to say the least, albeit not entirely unwelcomed. You would not have guessed he had it in him based your first impression of him, but then again, you would not have guessed him to be this submissive either, so you supposed you should not been so taken aback by it. You should never judge a book by its cover after all. 

You scuffed. A subtle pleased smirk gracing your features before responding to his enthusiasm with a faint,

"Good boy." 

You wrapped your plump lips around his length, slowly lowering yourself over him, swirling your tongue around the tip as you went down.

You moved your hand to cup his balls, gently playing with them before you started to apply gentle pressure, stroking the underside of his length. 

"I-I can't... ah... so.. so good!" Subtle beeds of pleasure starting to form at the corners of his eyes. 

Felix leaned his head back against the heavy bookshelf as his hands gently fell to the top of your head, his fingers intertwining with the strands of your hair. He offered no pressure, no aim to guide your movements. His shaky hands only set out to find a place of rest in a desperate attempt to ground himself. His hips squirmed helplessly with the building pleasure of the tortuous assault of your mouth to his core. 

You let his cock fall out of your mouth with a noticeable 'pop' and Felix looked like he was ready to do the same. His hands were trembling as he desperately tried to hold on to what little sanity he had left. 

"No cumming now, Kitten. You're going to be a good boy for me, aren't you?" Your hands continued to teasingly stroke his cock as you spoke, making it difficult for the poor boy to form a coherent answer. 

"I-... ah.. I can't..." gentle tears blurred his vision. He could feel the unsought of his release creeping menacingly close, as he struggled to get away from your touch, not wanting the pleasure to end. 

You quickly released your grip of him and watched him whimper as the sudden inaction chased his high away. His chest heaved with want, its color matching the flush of his pretty star sprinkled cheeks as he tried break through the fog of unadulterated bliss. 

"P-please.." Felix managed to let out between sobs, voice small and pleading. Bringing your tongue back to the tip of his cock, you teased him with small, wet Kitten licks before taking the length of him into your mouth. You bobbed your head in a hurried fashion, feeling his soft head bouncing off the back of your throat. 

Felix moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion, making the shirt fall from his mouth. He quickly replaced it with his fist in a desperate, albeit futile, attempt to hold back screams while the other griped his shirt anew, unable to handle the pleasure your mouth conditioned him with. 

His beautiful moans and hitched breaths spurring you on as you quickened your ministries. You could feel the wetness dripping from your neglected sex, unable to deny the effects his pleas had on you. 

"Cum for me Kitten" you said breathlessly, before returning to suck on his length with newly found determination. 

That was seemingly all the permission Felix needed, making his walls of fragile attempt to restrain come crashing down before your very eyes. Cumming with the most deliciously sinful broken moans you had ever heard. 

His orgasm sent electricity flowing through every nerve, muscles flexing and relaxing by their own accord as pearls of sweat dripped from his temples, down to his chiseled pecks. White flashes of hot bliss washing over him in waves. Cock twitching violently, coating your mouth with stripes of warm, delectable release.

You sucked him through his high, making sure to milk every last drop of his essence before swallowing, unwilling to let any of his delicious nectar go to waste.

You stood from your kneeling position, legs a tad shaky from the tiring position and carpeted concrete. You used your thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth, before licking it clean. 

Felix looked at your suggestive move, lingering chock and exhaustion from his intensive release, apparent on his stunning features. 

He looked like he was going to cum again, cock unrelentingly hard, twitching as a result of your blatant display of insatiable lust. 

"Thanks for the meal, Kitten." You winked before leaving to get your things. 

What the fuck did I just do?

***

Thank you so much for reading my fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it by reblogging and liking my post. Be sure to let me know if you'd like a part two.

Stay dark my friends.

[cosmicalily]

"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

2. semantic memory | yang jeongin x fem!reader

semantic memory: a type of explicit memory that is categorised as general knowledge and information accumulated throughout an individual’s life.

author's note: oh, i missed writing for jeongin!! i was going to revert to my typical best friends to lovers but i decided to change it up (barely) and do roommates instead last minute! thank you for all the love on my seungmin fic, i hope you enjoy this one too!

Yang Jeongin was a good roommate. 

He was reasonably quiet, but not uncomfortably so. He didn’t talk all the time, but he still joked around with you. He was clean and organised, but not meticulous or irritating about it. He did things without you asking; washed the dishes when you were staying up late to work on assignment, ordered you a Caesar salad and fries whenever he got takeout from his favourite Italian place, and always took whatever laundry you had with him when he went to wash his clothes. 

When you went grocery shopping, you knew his favourite beer and ramyeon, and would always buy them for him. When you watered your plants, you’d always water his too, the ones he kept along the windowsill of his bedroom and on the balcony. 

And apparently, when the air conditioning in his bedroom broke in the middle of summer, you’d let him temporarily move into your room. Or at least, that’s what you’d just told him.

“Really? Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to. I’m sure I can find a fan or something.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind. Honestly. I don’t do a lot of sleeping during the night anyway.”

“You’re always studying,�� Jeongin rolled his eyes playfully.

“And you’re never studying, yet you somehow do so well in your classes. It pisses me off,” you groaned, giving him a light shove. “Anyway, you get the floor. Do you want some help migrating?”

The two of you dragged his mattress into your bedroom, out of breath and panting by the time it had been very unprettily dumped on your floor. He made the bed up with clean sheets, and offered to change yours as well. You thanked him, and told him you’d start making dinner.

When you’d finished, you called him, and he came out of your bedroom, shirt off, hair a little tousled. Your cheeks flushed pink and he raised an eyebrow at you in confusion.

“You look…nice,” you said awkwardly, handing him a beer.

“Thanks?” he chuckled, mouth full of rice.

You sighed dramatically. “Most boys would return the compliment,” you shook your head as you opened your bottle of peach soju. 

“You always look nice. I tell you that all the time,” Jeongin replied, fumbling with the remote. “What show?”

“Brooklyn 99. And I always think you’re being sarcastic.”

“We always watch fucking Brooklyn 99. And no, I’m not. I thought that was obvious.”

“Because it’s the best show! And it’s not that obvious, not to me!” You protested.

Jeongin put his beer down and turned to you. “I’m so confused, why are we having two conversations at once?”

“You were the one who asked me two things.”

Jeongin pressed play on the episode. “One of them was a statement, the other was a question. You do always look nice. I’m not being sarcastic, I’m not a dickhead.”

“Some would argue that,” you giggled, and he gave you a gentle shove.

“Some would argue you’re a bitch,” Jeongin sighed. “But I put up with you.”

“Because you think I’m pretty?” you teased. 

“Because of the rent,” he corrected. “How am I supposed to afford my own place in this economy? Although you’re a bonus, I suppose. Even if I have to watch Brooklyn 99 all the time and change your sheets.”

You kicked his shin. “You offered!” 

He grabbed your leg with his hand and shifted it back into place, leaving his hand resting on your thigh. “Shut up. I’m trying to watch.”

“I thought you hated-” you laughed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jeongin groaned, and he pinned you to the floor, tickling you until the two of you collapsed in a laughing heap, the show still running, dinner half eaten, drinks long forgotten.

The one thing you’d failed to mention to Jeongin was your habit of falling off the bed during the night. You were a professional tosser and turner, and that often ended up with you snapping out of your dreams face-down on the wooden floor, bruises littering your hips, knees and any other joint that was lucky enough to be the first to break your fall.

When you woke up, you were mortified to find yourself not on exposed hardwood, but on a mattress. With someone else, who was staring at you curiously.

“Fuck!” you groaned, shoving your face into the sheets. “I’m sorry. When did I end up here?”

Jeongin checked his phone. “Maybe 4 am? I don’t know, I didn’t notice until I rolled over and somebody’s face was in front of mine.”

“What’s the time now?”

“Just past 7.”

You rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “I should get up then.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jeongin agreed, but neither of you made any attempt to move.

You looked around your room, interested in your lower perspective. It still looked empty, too similar to when you’d first moved in. You’d been so caught up in studying and seeing your friends that you had forgotten to properly decorate your room.

“Your room’s boring,” Jeongin commented, as if reading your mind.

“Rude. But you’re right,” you agreed. “Maybe during the summer I’ll decorate it. Buy some posters, maybe find some new furniture on Facebook Marketplace.”

Jeongin nodded in approval. “I can help, if you want.”

“How can I trust that you’ll pick good home decor?” you rolled to face him, squinting.

“I know your taste, I’ve been living with you a year now,” Jeongin replied, scrolling through his phone. “Trust me, I don’t think I’ve forgotten a single thing about you.”

You chuckled. “Aw, do you have one of those lists with all my favourite things or something?”

“Nope. It’s all in here,” he tapped the side of his head, smiling playfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to prove it?” he asked, turning to face you, eyes serious.

“Okay, then I’ll do the same,” you agreed.

Jeongin ran a hand through his hair and set his phone down. “Your favourite fruits are peaches, but nectarines come a close second. If stone fruits aren’t in season, you’ll settle for citrus. You’re prescribed an iron supplement, but you never take it, because you say it tastes like metal. Your favourite colour is pale blue, but it didn’t match the personal colour analysis that app gave you and you’ve been angry about it ever since. You drink with your friends, but don’t like getting drunk while you’re out since you have a fear of being kidnapped. You haven’t had a boyfriend since 12th grade, and you’re secretly in love with me,” he finished, eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes at his final statement. “Alright, Yang Jeongin. You’re the youngest in your friendship group but hate being babied, and you wanted to be a primary school teacher growing up. Your favourite colour is green, and you can fit a whole slice of pizza in your mouth. You can actually sing decently well, but never do, and you actually love Brooklyn 99 more than I do. You love buying clothes, and your favourite place to do so is the vintage shop down the road, where you spend all of your time and all of your money. And, above all, you get no bitches.”

“Don’t you classify as a bitch?” He laughed. “You did well, though. Everything you said was right.”

“You were right too,” you sighed. “I really thought you were going to say something insanely stupid that I could tease you for.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that last statement?”

You ignored him. “I genuinely can’t believe you know that much about me. Fuck, I have to hide more about myself. I hate being perceived.”

Jeongin chuckled in amusement. “I pay attention. It’s weird hearing everything someone knows about you all at once. What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“I think we have to make out now,” you said casually.

He nodded, unsurprised. “I think we do.”

You shuffled closer, and he moved to lie above you, weight on his elbows. His eyes glittered, and his cheeks were tinged with peach. You smiled up at him, face warm and tingling. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours softly, and you sighed into his mouth at the feeling. You moved your hands to cup his cheeks, deepening the kiss, pulling apart when you both lost your breath.

“You were right,” you panted, lips swollen. 

“About?”

“Me being secretly in love with you.”

He smiled. “Well, you were wrong. About me getting no bitches. It wouldn’t be presumptuous to assume you’re my bitch, considering the fact that we just kissed?”

“I won’t be for long if you keep calling me that. It’s girlfriend to you now,” you giggled, and he wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you tight onto his chest.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

show me the place where he inserted the blade; a fanmix.

inspired by this fic by my wonderfully talented friend @cheatghost <3

Listen Here // Read Here

| playlist guide below the cut |

I. Before

II. After

III. Searching

IV. Hope

V. Home

[omgeto]

oh you wanna play psycho killer? can i be the helpless victim...

｡･:*˚:✧｡ authors note — my first kinktober!! ahh go crazy. i will try my best to write good smut for you people. here's my master list so you can see what im cooking up for you guys. i might add some more but for now here it is... MDNI!!

OCTOBER 1ST...

THRILL(h)ER — satosugu x reader

when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

cw: threesome (duh), double penetration, blowjobs, spanking, praise & degredation

OCTOBER 7TH...

your 'ONLY FAN' — dilf neighbour!toji x cam girl!reader

when you're a top cam girl, your used to having thousands of people watching you every night. yet among the masses, theres one fan that stands out. he not only is a high tipper but is someone you happen to know all too well. and he's about to go to long lengths to prove to you that he's the only fan of yours that matters.

cw: toji breaks into your house and blows your back out. facefucking, slight choking, use of toys, consensual sex tape making, sight breeding.

OCTOBER 14TH...

when you fuck your older neighbour — nanami, toji, geto, gojo

on the way to a halloween party, you just couldn't help but put a little pep in your step as your strut past your older neighbours house. and he can't help notice how tight and tiny your outfit is — it can barely fit. not that it matters anyway... it'll be off of you before the clock strikes 11...

cw: age gap (duh), spanking, nipple play, face riding, dick riding, all types of riding

OCTOBER 21st...

a quiet place — nanami x babysitter!reader

after returning from trick or treating with his kids, your 'boss' can't help but beg you stay the night with him. hoping to give you a 'treat' of his own. but shhh... you can't get too loud, his kids are sleeping.

cw: breeding, raw sex, talks of pregnancy, a whole lotta cum

OCTOBER 31st...

"CULT?... i thought this was a bathroom." — geto x reader

on a drunken halloween night you thought you were stumbling your way into the bathroom of a club, but you end up stumbling into the lap of a cult leader. and he doesn't like people like you. instead of doing what he usual does to your 'kind' he decides to punish you a different way — in front of all of his followers.

cw: public sex, major degradation, dark content... (slay)

so what do you think. what do you think of the banner? I tried really hard to make this whole thing so hopefully you guys love the layout AND THE FIC IDEAS. which one are you most exited for lmk :) also don’t use my header pls and thanks THERE IS NO TAGLIST &lt;;33

[sooniebby]

I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock

Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it

Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.

And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.

But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.

He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..

But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes

This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.

And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.

He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.

He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.

His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.

“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.

Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?

You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..

why was he into you?

He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?

By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.

‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’

You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.

Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.

‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’

You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.

‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’

You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..

But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now

Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.

‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’

This was going to be a long day…

My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3

Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!

Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)

[xomakara]

Movie Night Mischief

SUMMARY | You go on tour with your best friends, Mark and Jaemin. You're watching a movie with them one night, when things take an unexpected turn.

PAIRINGS |  Mark x Reader x Jaemin

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  idol!Mark, idol!Jaemin, non-idol!Reader, smut, threesome

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, threesome, female masturbation, fingering, blowjobs, double penetrative sex (vaginal/anal), unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names, creampies

LENGTH |  5,194 words

TAGLIST |  @shuadotcom

NETWORKS |   @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I was inspired to write this because of this video. I would have happily sat my ass down lol. MarkMin has been gracing my feed and I'm going absolutely feral over them. Thank you @shadowkoo for the beautiful banner! I'm absolutely in love with it. I hope you all love this fic~ 💚

"Where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, staring down at your two best friends.

Mark and Jaemin looked up at you standing in front of them with a bowl of popcorn. The boys, seemingly forgetting you, exchanged a look. When you were asked to join NCT Dream on tour for TDS3, you jumped at the chance to be a part of the staff, though they were asking a lot more of you than you had originally agreed. All the members had grown close to you throughout your time working as a stylist throughout the years and you became close friends with Mark and Jaemin especially.

And though you knew that relationships could cause problems, not everyone could say the same and your crush on both of them had not gone unnoticed, unfortunately. If Jeno had picked up on it then, the rest had as well, seeing that Haechan teased you the most about your secret crushes. The boys were playing it like they didn't know, but it was very apparent they knew and used any and every moment to torment you. But you weren't sure if Mark and Jaemin knew about your crush on either of them.

"What do you think? Just sit here," Jaemin gestured for you to go ahead and take the place between the two as he patted a little. "Go on, don't make us stop our movie marathon."

With a small scoff, you decided to squeeze into the tiny spot between them. You rolled your eyes, while popping the pieces of popcorn into your mouth. Mark snickered before stretching his arm along the back of the couch so that it could be comfortably placed around your shoulders. Your friend nuzzled himself a bit closer into you until you could feel the heat from his body.

"Ah... this is much better," Jaemin mumbled to no one in particular. You ignored him, as he stretched his arm in the other direction, draping his body even closer. Now you were smothered by both boys and, in turn, the musky, familiar scent of them.

Mark hummed as well as he started eating his own popcorn, and watched the film in front of the television. "Right?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your lips. "What are we watching anyway?"

Mark shrugged. "Honestly, no clue."

"Jaem?" you turned to Jaemin on your left.

The male sighed, "No idea."

"Great," You deadpanned, "I should just leave."

Jaemin shook his head, "Oh no, no... if we're watching, so are you. Now sit your ass down." 

He yanked you back down on the couch and you crossed your arms across your chest. "I should have gone to hang out with Jeno and Haechan instead of spending my time with y'all."

"Excuse you," Jaemin laughed. "You know you'd rather be here with us. Right, Mark?"

"And here we thought you were our best friend!" Mark faked shock, widening his eyes, and opening his mouth with fake hurt.

You shoved the bucket of popcorn in front of his face. "Shut up, and just eat the popcorn."

Mark continued to chomp down the popped kernels and you tried your best not to roll your eyes again, the soft movie sounds humming from the TV. You peeked to see what Jaemin was up to. His eyes were glued on the movie, his fingers picking up a single kernel from the bowl that sat on your thighs and popping it into his mouth. You weren't aware of the soft thumps inside your chest at the simple, innocent, action he had done. Your eyes flickered to his lips that parted with each bite of the snack, the movement almost teasing. He didn't even spare a glance in your direction and you felt that was a good thing.

Mark reached over to pick up a single piece of popcorn too. His hand briefly rested on top of your thigh when he brought it back over. It was a completely accidental and friendly gesture but somehow, you wished that it meant a little more than a harmless, kind movement. His hand had been soft on top of your knee and then slowly crawled up a bit higher than his initial resting place. Your breathing quickened slightly and you bit on your lower lip, glancing at him from your periphery. 

Mark's eyes were on the television but his fingers drummed against the spot on your bare leg where your shorts had ridden up a bit from the position you were in. His thumb tickled the area around the skin and he casually placed a single kernel onto his waiting tongue. Your lips were dry, so you ran your tongue across them to add some moisture. He sucked his thumb into his mouth briefly, making sure the digit was cleaned of any salt he hadn't eaten.

With your eyes trained on the TV, you brought a popcorn piece into your mouth and chewed it thoroughly. There was no need to overthink your feelings for Mark and Jaemin. These feelings would die off in no time.

Little did you know they were gonna be harder to hide.

The movie you were watching started to become a bit risqué. There was a sex scene involved and suddenly you were the one shifting uncomfortably. What was even the name of the movie they had chosen again? You couldn't recall. But apparently, Mark couldn't either, his face scrunching a bit at the scene playing out in front of him.

Jaemin reached over to the bowl and grabbed another piece. You peeked at his side profile and sighed when you knew he was fully engulfed into the movie. Then your attention shifted over to Mark. His brows knitted and he was still chewing the popcorn, eyes watching the TV intently. If you stared hard enough, you could see the subtle flush along his face.

The sound of moaning soon reached your ears and your skin started prickling with nervousness. The sex scenes should not affect you this way—even though it had been a long time since you had experienced an orgasm or someone had fucked you. In fact, you wanted one of those right now. Your stomach was coiling, hot and heavy, as you got hot and bothered from the scene. The actor's heavy panting rang clearly in your ears, causing your mind to think lewd thoughts. You shuffled and you were already uncomfortable under their gaze, your breathing coming out a little heavier than normal.

"You good there, Y/N?" The low, raspy voice of Mark entered your hearing. You cleared your throat and slowly nodded, unable to look into his eyes.

"I'm fine," you squeaked. There was a subtle nod of your head. Mark simply let it go as he kept his eyes in front and you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. With another attempt to look forward, the erotic visuals filled your eyes. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip when the loud groans vibrated throughout the room.

Oh how badly you wished one of them was kissing along the length of your neck, grazing the delicate skin with their teeth and leaving possessive marks on it. Your pulse picked up at the thought, heart pounding hard and fast against your chest as you could feel something pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

Jaemin and Mark were surely doing no better.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mark subtly adjusting the semi-hard-on forming in his pants. He cursed softly under his breath, the neediness in his voice loud and clear and fuck, if that didn't get you dripping wetter. Jaemin was seemingly worse because you could actually see the tent in his sweats—it wasn't huge but it was just enough to know he was somewhat aroused by this scene. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth, dark eyes intensely focused on the film.

The moaning just increased from the actors. That sound plus the slick sounds of cock and pussy hitting each other was too much. God, you wanted them. They were so fucking handsome, perfect in every way and their ethereal voices made you quiver with want. The sensation between your legs was making the rational thoughts in your head start to dissipate and was clouded with the need to touch Mark, to kiss Mark, to touch Jaemin, to kiss Jaemin.

So, when one of the characters ended the sex scene by moaning the name of their partner loudly, you couldn't hold it anymore. You grabbed onto one of their sleeves and pulled. Mark and Jaemin broke from their lustrous state and they met your flushed and flustered state.

"Fuck me, please. Right now," your words were breathy, rushed and impatient as your chest rapidly heaved from the pent up frustration and arousal coursing through your body. Your knuckles tightened their grip on their shirt, pulling them closer to you as their brows twitched upwards with lust. "I need one of you, right now."

Without hesitation, Jaemin leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss while Mark maneuvered his face and mouth next to your ear to let his hot breath hit the delicate skin and whisper sinfully lewd and naughty thoughts into your ears. He began by nibbling your earlobe before planting soft kisses. Then he grazed along the shell with his tongue and the side of his mouth.

The kiss Jaemin and you were sharing was wild with just pure unadulterated lust. You slid your fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, lightly gripping it to bring him closer. Both of your heads shifted and tilted with each lick and bite. Occasionally your lips would detach for a few seconds so you could both catch your breaths. Mark turned your head towards him and captured your lips in his to break yours and Jaemin's connection. It was a warm embrace at first before Jaemin attached his wet and swollen lips onto your neck, licking and sucking with the utmost intent to mark.

Mark's and your kisses were sloppy, wet and rough. The nipping of your bottom lips, the suckling on your tongue and the slurring moans and groans echoed into the shared space of the hotel room. After what seemed to last an eternity, the three of you pulled apart and caught your breath.

"Y/N…" Mark spoke into your ear. Your name sent goosebumps all over your skin as his husky voice reverberated in your hearing. "Baby girl, you know this will change things between the three of us, right? It won't just stop at today."

The palm of his hand slid along your bare skin and it caused the hairs on your skin to stand. He had gotten underneath your t-shirt, thumbing the edge of your shorts, ready to dip it in. He needed some form of consent—as did Jaemin who stared deeply into your eyes, and sucked a red mark on the exposed skin above your t-shirt collar, rubbing soothing circles to calm your nerves.

This was what you wanted—to be touched, kissed, worshipped, by these two. Mark and Jaemin wouldn't do this unless you asked for it. And the thing is, you really did want this. To be touched by the both of them, their hands roaming all over, and giving you so much pleasure it was just enough for a whole week's worth of work.

You leaned back on Mark, head thrown over his shoulder to reach his waiting lips with yours. A hand tugged at Jaemin's neck so you could look straight at him when you agreed.

"I do... now do whatever the hell you want to me," you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.

"Wanna get your sweet and pretty little ass up on the bed and put on a show for us? We wanna see you play with that pretty pussy for us. Put those beautiful fingers inside that soaking and leaking cunt of yours," Jaemin whispered.

Fuck. That was hot.

You shuddered as you stood up and removed the clothes you were wearing. Then you slowly moved up onto the bed until you were propped on your elbows in the center, looking at Mark and Jaemin with a needy yet playful gaze. 

"We want to watch you finger that sweet, juicy cunt. Please, baby," Jaemin requested in his usual honey tone. But it was different, lower, darker and raspier and holy shit if that didn't light the fire of horniness all over in you. You would say Mark and Jaemin could make the dirtiest things sound like pure heaven. 

Hands tugging on the waistband of your panties, you slipped the small piece of clothing off in a painstakingly slow fashion. When that was done, your fingers ghosted on the outline of your mound, following your hand down, as the two men watched intensely. This continued until your digits swirled over your entrance and when it came across a pool of wetness that was spreading steadily and causing your thighs to clench.

Mark groaned loudly, a low, strangled sound, his eyes staring at you in such a way that made you feel utterly devoured. Your pussy tightened as your gaze found Jaemin as he drew his eyes away from the apex of your thighs to stare directly at you and God did you want them, so, so badly.

Mark and Jaemin crawled onto the bed until their presence loomed over your smaller figure.

"Sweetheart, please stick those pretty fingers inside your delicious and soaked pussy. The sooner the better," Mark muttered.

You listened to Mark and shoved your finger into you, your walls tightening immediately around the new feeling. There was a little groan escaping you, too—pure ecstasy. There was nothing more than being fingered and eaten out.

The moan encouraged the males and both started to divest themselves, losing their shirts, sweatpants and boxers, revealing their erect and proud cocks. Precum glistened on the red tip of their cocks, your eyes fixating on the two members and fuck you couldn't believe how lucky you were right now. You took in every last detail of them and damn, it only caused your arousal to become ten times better. 

Jaemin smirked before speaking. "Put another finger inside that little tight cunt."

You complied with his words by adding in a second finger. A sinful mewl resounded in the quiet room. 

Jaemin tutted. "What a naughty little girl, I bet I know what she's thinking of right now."

Mark paused, seeming to ponder before speaking. "Something like getting her mouth on our dicks. Don't you agree, Jaem? To have those plump lips stretched to their limit and moaning as she tastes us on her tongue. Having both of us choke her with our cocks."

There was a purr of approval and an adorable hum. "Mmh, she'd look so cute too." 

Fuck.

This time Jaemin was the one groaning, as both watched you moving your fingers in and out of your hole, your wet and glistening juices practically coating every part of your lower lips. The slide of your fingers in and out was delicious, but it would feel even better when Mark's and Jaemin's dicks would enter you instead. Your nipples tingled as they grew taut and stiff while a needy ache pulsated with growing heat and force.

It was arousing.

It was hot.

And so damn alluring.

"Such a needy little girl," Mark commented and both Jaemin and him now gripped their cocks.

The sight of their leaking and dripping dicks triggered something in you, you could feel yourself dripping as your insides clenched around the two fingers inserted inside and out. But God, were they still not enough. Your thumb moved over to your swollen clit. That bundle of nerves finally got the attention it deserved and you were crying and releasing a low and loud mewl as waves of pleasure vibrated from inside. It was good, very good.

But it still wasn't enough.

No. You wanted more.

"Fuck. That's not—fuck—enough," your voice strained at the end of your sentence as you were heavily panting.

"Tell us what you want," Jaemin stated low and huskily, "Baby, we'll give it to you if you just tell us."

"Your mouths and fingers—" you rasped, gasping between every word, "in…in me."

Mark cooed softly and reached over to cup your cheek with a rough palm. The contact alone made you melt in bliss.

"We can do that baby," Mark pressed his lips briefly to your lips before moving back. "How about Jaemin eats you out while I fill this pretty little mouth of yours with my cock and give you what you desire?"

Your cunt throbbed hard at the mention. That's exactly what you wanted. You removed your fingers and whined softly as that gaping and emptiness could be felt. Mark crawled up to your face with a knowing smile, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. He positioned himself over your mouth until his hardened cock was directly over your lips, dripping down precum.

Without delay, you licked it up. The salty flavor and the heavy weight in your mouth made you suckle hard and you gained an animalistic groan from above you. While you tended to Mark, you felt a tongue against your slit as your taste filled his mouth. Jaemin wasted no time in deep-thrusting his tongue past the folds to plunge into your core and groaning at the slick mess already drenching you. His eagerness, and hot tongue massaging against your entrance and folds made you shake, sucking on Mark's cock faster.

Jaemin's hands spread your legs a little wider, your thighs flexing hard and you tried to keep them that way. Your body jerked and jolted every time his lips would lap against your sensitive bud, rolling your hard clit against your teeth. Mark continued to thrust his hips shallowly, unable to keep from fully fucking into the soft and wet depths of your hot mouth.

"You're so good for us, aren't you Y/N?" Mark praised, running a gentle hand through your hair and grinning when he felt your eyes open to look up at him through your eyelashes. "Take every inch, you pretty thing. Stay like that. Take all of me."

Your mouth continued to service him until your gaze rose up and looked at Mark above your frame.

Oh fuck! He looked ethereal—that beautiful, handsome and well-built body covered with a sheen layer of sweat. His throat bobbing from the moans. Those lean yet muscular arms stretched over you, firm and lean. Oh how badly you want to feel that skin. Your whole body is ignited by every touch of those muscular palms. It drove you mad, the scent of his arousal strong.

His lips slightly parted and his jaw muscles straining with restraint, "Fuck. Fuck, Y/N. Y-your mouth."

Without warning, Mark snapped his hips and pushed his full length in, the abrupt action having you gag and wince. His apology fell on deaf ears as you enjoyed the cock stuffed inside your mouth, throbbing on your tongue. Jaemin followed suit as you bucked your hips a little harshly into his mouth, grinding your pussy into him as fast as you could. Your desperation increased as your eyes caught the vision of Jaemin's perfect form between your thighs, his dark head of hair bouncing up and down. Jaemin removed his mouth momentarily, his saliva mixed with your wetness being lapped up. He hummed. "Holy fuck, sweetness. Your pussy tastes so divine. I can't get enough."

Jaemin placed his thick and hot tongue back onto your clit, swirling the muscle against that nerve ending and sucking simultaneously while two fingers roughly slid into you and pumped into a rhythm.

You were reaching a point of oversensitivity, body wrecked under the actions of both Mark and Jaemin, leaving you trembling with carnality.

"So fucking wet. Baby is squeezing my fingers so tight. Will she squeeze around my dick next time?" Jaemin commented while smirking and taking another look at your pussy. He placed a final kiss on your clit before pulling out and planting another onto the fluttering folds and sat back on his heels, as his attention turned towards Mark who was in the same state. Both nodded and removed themselves.

Mark moved over to take Jaemin's spot, his face gliding over the exposed skin of your sides with kisses, until he arrived at your heat. Mark took some seconds to admire the delicious mess which is between your thighs, your swollen lips all dripping in juices. You let out a piteous and faint noise, your neglected cunt flexing over thin air and gifting him with a burst of wetness. 

"Mark, please," your voice was barely recognizable even to your own ears, having lost count of how many times you pleaded. Mark just quirked a dark brow at you.

"Let me taste you a bit first and then you can have my dick," And then his tongue sunk inside, licking up any moisture accumulated. You clawed the bed sheets under the sheer sensation of the heat pooling, curling and breaking your body apart like a bomb. Fingers returned to your pussy, turning every single movement and motion agonizingly intense. 

Fucking intense.

"Please," you wail as your hands dart through his hair, "fuck. Stop teasing. Want your cock. In my pussy. Now, please, now, please, Mark. Please."

"And me, sweet pea?" Jaemin husked at the last syllables before fluttering his long lashes up and down.

"Please. Wanna cum. With both of you." Your voice hitches an octave higher and breathier by the end of the request.

"Anything for our girl," Mark says calmly as he moved away from you.

Jaemin was lying on the mattress, as you crawled your way up him before sinking down, the both of you relishing the feeling. His cock pulsed into your needy and drenched core, the way the plump head spread through your walls.

He then bottomed out, the smooth motion filling you full, full, full. It was a stretch and you loved it. Jaemin, a handsome angel and the epitome of the dream guy everyone could and should ever dream of was buried deep within you.

"Shit, baby. Can you feel my cock, stuffing you up and getting you all wet inside? Fuck. This pretty pussy can't handle this big cock, can you?" Jaemin growled lustfully. "Do you want Mark to fuck your tight ass, baby? Bet that little asshole of yours would stretch so wide. So fucking perfectly."

"Yes," you practically sobbed, the vision only spurring on the all consuming urgency surging through your nerves. "Yes, I need you and Mark to stuff me full…so damn full. Please."

Mark smirked and produced a bottle of lube he picked up from somewhere, before pouring a generous amount over his fingers and dick. After slicking it up, his fingers travelled to your hole, tracing the sensitive entrance before stretching it with his fingers and loosening it until it relaxed. When he noticed your squirming and pleading for his cock to go in, that was when Mark began sinking his hard member in until there was nothing left but his hip and your ass.

The feel of his dick spreading open your inner walls and burying deeply sent shudders through your whole being. The sensation of your holes stretching at both ends made your chest heave.

"Shit," both Mark and Jaemin ground out, coming down from the immediate wave of pure bliss enveloping the three of you.

For a moment they let you adjust, until the buildup of desire in all three of you started to become too much to bear. When they noticed the whimpering noises, they immediately picked up the pace, Mark and Jaemin rolling their hips and snapping in an irregular rhythm.

The both of them were talking now, filthy, lude praises, lewd moans, dirty whispers and naughty nothings in between grunts and sighs and praise. You heard snippets like how gorgeous and perfect you are. How well you are doing. How much of a fucking beautiful kitten and how perfect you look being taken by them. Both dicks deep and pumping hard, the gliding motion pulling frictionless strokes.

"What a perfect pussy and what a sexy little ass. Gonna ruin both and make sure you can't ever think or walk normally. Gonna make you ours," Jaemin grinded hard.

"Feels so good...you both feel so fucking good," was the response he got from you, accompanied by mewls. "Fu-ck. Shit. Please. Harder."

"How does Mark feel, baby?" Jaemin coos softly, petting your hair slightly as if rewarding a good kitty.

"Good," you sighed, "good, he's really filling me and stretching me."

Mark's groans grew more heated at the confirmation, snapping his hips and pelvis. He leaned in and grunted more erotic words. "You're taking us so well, baby. You're gonna be walking crooked and sore after we're done with you."

"We need her to know we're never letting her go," Jaemin mused.

Your high-pitched screams reverberated off the walls, bouncing into Mark and Jaemin's ear, causing them to chuckle. Your eyes closed to concentrate on the way Mark and Jaemin could command a good and nice pace.

It was intense and erotic.

It was messy and hot.

It was unravelling.

It was sheer pleasure.

You were being consumed whole.

"Baby, your moans," Mark stated breathily. "Such sweet, heavenly and pleasing noises. And that's coming from us. From two cocks filling both of those delicious holes."

"Be louder," Jaemin suggests. "Scream for us louder. Let the rest of the members know who's making you feel this good. That you're only ours."

You squeaked as Mark brushed your hair gently to the side so that he could kiss the nape of your neck and collarbone. His touches were electric as his palm rubbed and squeezed the swell of your breasts and caressed your body sensually. He switched it up occasionally, applying light kitty licks and bites and harsh sucks, taking note of your sweet noises and what parts of you brought forth that sort of reaction. You squirmed against the sheets, one hand gripping the cotton of your pillow tightly, the other draped on Jaemin's bicep.

"Fuck," you whimper as they kept pumping mercilessly, pleasure unfurling and rolling inside you, unfocused with nowhere to go. "Shit. Fuck."

"Tell us what you want Y/N," It was a low rumble coming from Jaemin. "Just say it."

"I—I wanna cum," you whimpered.

"We want that too, baby," Mark mumbles right into your ear. His breathing sounds jagged. You're pretty sure you weren't the only one going out of your mind with anticipation. "Cum for us, baby."

"Y-yes. A-ah…ha…" You whine, choking up a throaty scream as the loud squelch echoed along the room in the rhythm of the pounding, joined by a deep grunt here and there from Jaemin and Mark. "M-Mark, please...Jaem...J-just."

"That's a good girl," Mark states as his palms massage the curves and dips of your body as Jaemin takes turns running his teeth and lips against the side of your neck and over your delicate shoulder, rough and passionate. 

"Take every inch, beautiful. We'll leave you satiated and stuffed full. Mark is gonna fill your tight ass full of cum, whilst I cum deep inside your lovely pussy," Jaemin huskily added, voice dark and coarse.

You groaned, keenly aware of how full and hard they are inside of you. Oh how badly you wanted the boys to reach their peaks. How you wished Mark and Jaemin's powerful bodies would shudder and convulse as euphoric pleasure ripped through. How badly you wanted Mark and Jaemin's expressions twisted into sweet bliss and then dissolved in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby. We're right here," Mark soothed, voice dripping with affection and fondness, "Take all the pleasure you can get."

"Oh, shit. So good. Yes. Shit!" you finally reach your limit and tip over the edge, gushing and convulsing with a loud drawn-out whimper.

Both Mark and Jaemin fuck you right through it, milking both orgasms. They only lasted a few minutes longer, finally spilling and letting ropes of cum paint and coat your insides. Mark groaned from above you, a sound so sexual and captivating and Jaemin stifled a moan in the crook of your neck. They kept their cocks for a minute and came down from their respective highs before withdrawing from both stretched holes. Cum dribbled down your lower lips, pooling the bed sheets.

There was a silence before Jaemin and Mark cuddled closer to you from each side, the both of them panting heavily until the room was filled with deep inhales and exhales.

"Can…we do that again?" You manage to voice, surprising Jaemin and Mark with the bold statement.

They responded by bursting into soft chuckles. Jaemin made a noise. "That's asking a bit too soon, isn't it princess?"

"No…like, during your tours, when we go back home. In your free time.  I-If it's not inconvenient with schedules, of course," you rush out. 

Mark raised his brows. "Are you sure, Y/N?"

"Uh, y-yeah," you gulp a breath. "I really enjoyed this. But only if you want to as well."

"Believe me princess," Jaemin purred softly. "We love being with you as much as you love being with us."

"Of course we would like to. Our place is with you no matter what," Mark interjects, his soft hands smoothing down your messy and sweaty hair before slipping an arm around you and pulling you against his warmth. The affection made you blush even more. Mark nudges his nose and kisses the top of your head. “Besides, I did say this was going to change between the three of us right? That this won't stop at today.”

"Who would have thought that I'd fuck my best friends," you breathe out, staring at the ceiling in complete bliss.

"We should have done this a long time ago. Next time we do this again, let's bring Jeno with us," Jaemin admits cheekily, the utter statement catching you by surprise.

You slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir. How bold."

Mark laughed. "I don't think I want to share Y/N with the others, Jaemin. Only us two are enough for this lovely lady."

"Ah, I'm kidding," Jaemin winks before tilting his head. "Mostly." He wags his brows playfully, making you groan and hit him lightly. Jaemin grinned before dragging your palm and placing a kiss on the inside of it. "Relax baby, you have our hearts wrapped around your finger."

Mark hummed in agreement and buried his face into the crook of your neck and placed a tender, heartfelt kiss and patted your thighs. He mumbles sleepily into your ear and you hear Jaemin repeating the gesture, the two voices simultaneously filling your eardrums. "We're yours, and you are ours. I'm sure this is going to be the start of something new and good. Don't worry." 

You relaxed, letting their breathing and the warmth of their skin lull you to a peaceful sleep, right alongside them and in their arms.

[happy74827]

Love Me Like A Sailor

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: It’s rare that dreams can turn into reality, but it isn’t impossible.

WC: 5537 (trust the process friends 🙏)

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends + Lovers, Wade POV, Mentions of the Past {TW: Self-Deprecation, Wade having insecurities, Not Proof Read}

Where are all the fics of this man? I can barely find some for him and it’s making me go crazy. Like, your honor, I love him. Gimme more.

Anyway, I figured I would write a Wade fic that’s around the same premise as my Wolverine one (since SO MANY OF YOU ate it up), so if anyone actually finds this… you’re welcome 🫶✨

『••✎••』

He was always in love with you. Always.

Wade Wilson had never been the smartest tool in the shed, the prettiest girl in the room, or even the tallest guy. In fact, he was a little bit of the opposite. He had a face only a mother could love, he was always cracking jokes at the wrong time, and his voice was too loud and too obnoxious for his own good. And while all of these traits might be endearing when it came from a handsome man with a voice as smooth as silk, the same qualities were irritating at best when it came to Wade.

He knew that. He wasn't blind. He knew he was annoying and ugly and too loud. However, there was one thing he was certain of: Wade Wilson was in love with his best friend.

Wade Wilson was not in love with just any best friend. He was in love with the only person who had been there since the beginning, the only one who had stuck with him through everything he had been through.

He was in love with you.

And you were in love with him, or so he hoped. He couldn’t tell because you were the most gorgeous, sweet, caring, thoughtful, and wonderful person on this planet, and he was none of those things.

He could barely bring himself to think of the words that could be on the tip of your tongue whenever he was around. He didn't deserve you. He was damaged.

But sometimes, he couldn’t help but hope—hope that you would return his feelings, hope that maybe you felt the same way, hope that you could be more than just best friends.

Every time the thought crossed his mind, his heart would pound in his chest. He was always so close to telling you, to confessing, but then he would stop himself. It was a constant back-and-forth.

One night, after a particularly long night of kicking names and taking asses, Wade decided to visit his gal pal, and by visit, he meant to break into your house and steal your food.

So, like Krampus, if Krampus had a thing for chimichangas instead of children, Wade climbed through your bedroom window as it had been left unlocked. You had told him a thousand times to use the front door, but Wade couldn’t do that. If he did that, he would feel too normal. And as much as Wade enjoyed breaking and entering, he would be damned if he made it boring for himself.

He only wished he could stick the landing.

In his defense, he had only fallen off the window ledge by an inch or two. However, the thud that his body made when he landed on the hardwood floor of your bedroom was louder than he had anticipated, and it sounded like an explosion.

A big one, too, like someone who had a little too much Taco Bell and took a nice walk through Barnes & Noble. Oh, yes, he knows exactly what you book nerds do when you’re approaching that infamous bathroom sign.

But, regardless of his loud entrance, he jumped back up to his feet and brushed the dust off his suit before making his way to the kitchen.

The smell of vanilla wafted through the air as Wade entered the kitchen and saw nothing but cleanliness and order. He opened the cupboards and frowned at the lack of food.

This was a problem.

A major problem.

There was nothing he could eat. No tacos. No chimichangas. No candy. Not even a damn Dorito.

What kind of animal would do this?

Wade had never been so offended. He was going to have to talk to you about this. You couldn’t have a guest over and not have snacks.

He decided to call you. Maybe you could talk some sense into yourself.

You answered after the second ring.

You didn't seem surprised at all to hear his voice on the other end of the line. Wade was used to your nonchalance when it came to him and his shenanigans. He loved it.

You always kept him on his toes, and the fact that you had become desensitized to his crazy was both amusing and infuriating.

And it really worked out to his benefit tonight.

Because when he started complaining about the lack of food in your apartment, instead of telling him to get his ass back to his place and stop breaking into yours, you told him to sit tight.

That you would be right over.

And that's how Wade found himself waiting for you on your couch, his leg bouncing with anticipation as he waited for you to get here.

His heart was pounding against his rib cage as his fingers drummed a nervous beat against his thighs. He so wanted to marry you the moment you walked through the door.

He would make sure that was the first thing out of his mouth.

And when you handed him his bag of Checkers, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Wanna get married?"

He fully meant it, too—the whole shi-bang.

Till death do us part.

Till the cows come home.

Till the last dance.

And every single second after.

You played it off as one of his usual antics. One of the jokes that Wade always cracked whenever he was hungry or when you surprised him.

Of course, why would you think he was being serious? His life was a full-blown comedy, a slapstick routine that would have even the biggest comedian crying with laughter.

Wade knew that. But, for once, he wished his life became less of a joke and more of a fairy tale.

A happily ever after. If they even exist.

It seemed life always had an extra curveball for him. A twist. Something unexpected. Something that made him feel even less human.

He could never catch a break even if the closest thing he could imagine to heaven was standing in front of him.

So, with a heavy sigh, Wade took the bag of Checkers and plopped himself onto the couch, hoping to enjoy the sweet taste of victory in the form of sugar and carbs.

And then you did something that made him fall in love with you even more.

You sat next to him.

Wade didn't even try to hide the wide grin that spread across his lips as he watched you sit beside him, a smile of your own on your pretty face.

You were beautiful. So, so beautiful.

Wade had always known that. He could tell the moment he first met you. He could also see the panic, the fear, and the terror in your eyes when you saw him.

And he was hot then, too—supermodel level.

Fun fact: the reason why you two met was that Wade might have gotten the names mixed up on his gold card and had ended up at a very fancy restaurant, and, well, his idea of the target was the one serving him.

You.

It was a bit awkward.

But, after you realized he wasn’t going to murder you and that he had no idea how much a glass of water cost or how his steak was literally the size of the entire restaurant, you started talking.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

It was love at first sight. In his mind, at least. He couldn’t imagine life without you.

Wade was in deep.

And the way you were looking at him right now, a glimmer of happiness in your eyes, a soft smile of contentment on your face, and your body turned towards him, well, it made him melt.

Wade had always been a sucker for romantic movies and romance novels, and the way you looked right now was straight out of a Nicholas Sparks movie.

He wanted to kiss you.

No.

He needed to kiss you. To feel your lips against his. Your hands in his. The warmth of your body. Your heartbeat.Everything.

He needed it all.

Call him a horny bastard, but you looked absolutely beautiful sitting there, eating one of his favorite fries from the bag.

Wade had always loved the little things. He loved watching you eat. He loved seeing you play with your hair. He loved it when you babbled to yourself. And, right now, you were doing the cutest thing ever.

You were holding the bag out to him, a fry halfway to your mouth, your eyes wide, and a bright smile on your face. You looked so happy.

Wade was happy, too.

"Want some?"

Nuggets. He didn’t even know Checkers had nuggets.

He hadn’t seen these bad boys since high school. And even then, they were the cheap knockoff, frozen food nuggets.

These were the good shit.

"Oh, baby, I'd take you and all your chicken nuggets to prom," Wade said as he reached forward and plucked a chicken nugget out of the bag.

He popped it into his mouth and let out a satisfied hum.

You giggled and shook your head as you pulled the bag back towards yourself and set it on your lap.

"You're a dork, Wade."

"The dorkiest."

"That's true."

You took a sip from your soda and leaned back, letting out a content sigh as you did so.

"Thanks for coming over," Wade said as he grabbed his burger and began eating.

"Well, I do live here," you replied, your eyes darting toward the bag of nuggets. "I can't really go anywhere else."

Maybe you can’t, but he can go inside your—

"I was actually thinking we could spend the night together," you continued, oblivious to the naughty thoughts running through his mind. "We haven't done that in a while."

Wade nearly choked on his burger.

He swallowed quickly and let out a small cough before grabbing his soda and downing the entire thing. For once, the liquid soothed his parched throat.

"I mean, uh, yeah, sure, totally. It'll be just like the old days. You, me, Netflix, and chilling."

He couldn't help it, okay? Flirting was just one of the many things that Wade Wilson did naturally.

Just like his regular occurrence of having 207 bones in his body.

It wasn't his fault that his words came out suggestive. He fully meant it—every word.

Every single flirtatious word that tumbled out of his mouth. Every joke that came out as a compliment. Every compliment was more of a sexual innuendo than anything.

It was who he was.

It was the only way he knew how to talk to people. Especially the person with whom he was in love.

He couldn't just go up to you and tell you that you were the most amazing person he had ever met, or that your smile was so beautiful that it made his heart skip a beat, or that he loved the way you looked at him when you were happy, or the way your voice would turn into a squeal when you laughed, or the way you would blush when he flirted with you.

He couldn't say all those things because they were cheesy and cliche, and you would think he was lying.

So, he made jokes. He made innuendos. He made you blush and giggle and roll your eyes.

Because that was the best way to get through to you.

That was the only way.

Or, at least, that's what he had thought.

Now, the truth was a bit different. The truth was that Wade was scared. Scared that you wouldn't feel the same way. Scared that he would ruin everything. Scared that you would leave.

So, he flirted. And joked. And tried to act like everything was normal. Like he was still in his younger, good-looking, more handsome days. Like if he made himself delusional enough to believe he was still attractive, he could convince himself that he would always have a chance.

Because he wasn't, he was old, ugly, and damaged. And no one, not even someone as beautiful and kind and wonderful as you, would want someone who had gone through the things he had.

Who had done the things he had.

You didn’t show any signs of disgust or resentment when he showed up on your doorstep for the first time after his incident or even the next time. Or the times after that.

But Wade couldn’t help but feel like it would eventually happen, and you would eventually get tired of him that you would realize how damaged he was. How broken he was.

That he wasn’t worthy.

"Remember that party?" Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. You had a fond smile on your face as you looked up at the ceiling. "When you snuck into my room and convinced me to sneak out and have fun with you?"

Yes, yes, he did. He remembered it far better than you. And he knew that, even though you hadn’t said it, he knew that this was a memory he treasured more because… ironically, it was the only time you had ever done something rebellious.

You had been so shy and timid and afraid to stand up for yourself. You had always been afraid of going against the grain, of doing what other people told you to do.

Wade had always wondered why. He had always wondered what was holding you back. So, when he was able to drag you out of your shell and make you experience a night, you would never forget, well, he was a happy man.

It was also the night he realized things that he had never been aware of before. Physically things.

There was a moment he remembered vividly. The two of you were about seconds away from getting a picture taken by some drunk dude with a Polaroid camera. Wade, being the good friend he was, had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close.

In that moment, he happened to glance at you when the flash went off and, well, it was a picture perfect moment.

We’re talking slow-mo, people becoming blurred background characters, a spotlight shining down on you two, his heart pounding in his chest, and butterflies flying around in his stomach.

The only thing missing was a sappy love song playing in the background.

He had always assumed that the sudden fluttering feeling in his stomach and the way his heart was pounding was due to the fact that he hated his picture being taken.

Or that he had accidentally eaten the wrong thing at the buffet.

But, as he stared at you, he started noticing every single detail. How pretty your eyes became with the extra glint of the flash. How your smile was as bright as a baby’s bare ass. How you were so oblivious to everything else except for him.

How the world suddenly became a blur, and all he could focus on was you.

How the music faded away. How he forgot how to breathe. How his heart felt like it was about to explode.

It was at that moment Wade realized, for the first time, what love was.

Wade had never been the one for grand gestures. He didn't know how to express his emotions in ways other than jokes or sarcasm. So, when it came to romance, he always preferred to keep things simple.

Like now, break-ins and food were his version of a romantic dinner.

However, when it came to the actual feelings part, the emotional part, and the vulnerable part, Wade had a hard time with that.

This was why, when you turned your attention towards him, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

"Why haven’t we ever dated?"

You blinked.

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, you responded, "You’re really affected by getting Checkers, aren't you?"

Wade could see the amusement in your eyes and he could hear the faint traces of humor in your tone, but, somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that you were avoiding the question.

He couldn’t tell if it was because you didn't want to answer him or if it was because you didn't know what to say.

And, for a brief moment, Wade hesitated to push you. He didn't want to make things uncomfortable. He didn't want to put you on the spot. He didn't want to scare you away.

But, then again, if there was anything Wade Wilson was good at, it was pushing people to their absolute limit.

So, he pushed.

"Skip the foreplay," he said, his voice firm and steady but not unkind. "Seriously, why have we never dated?"

Wade kept his eyes on yours, his expression serious, his body tense. He waited for you to speak, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach churning.

You were silent for a long moment, staring at him with wide, confused eyes.

"Because we're best friends," you answered finally, your tone matter-of-fact, almost as if you were stating a fact. "And, I… I just never thought about it.

Wade felt his heart sink. He knew that you weren’t lying. He could see it in the way your lips curled downwards, the way your eyebrows furrowed, and the way your shoulders slumped forward.

You were telling the truth.

It was a truth Wade didn’t want to hear.

He opened his mouth, prepared to apologize, to change the subject, to say something to make you laugh.

But, before he could utter a single word, you spoke again.

"Besides, it's not like you've ever been interested."

There was a hint of bitterness in your voice, a tinge of hurt in your tone.

It was a subtle reminder that Wade had a track record of being a player. A serial flirt who was never serious. A guy who flirted with every girl, who was constantly on the lookout for the next big thing.

He was the type of guy who would rather have fun than get attached. Or, at least, that's what everyone assumed.

At the tone of your voice, Wade immediately perked up, his eyes widening in surprise and his heart pounding.

The guttural laugh that escaped his lips caught you by surprise.

You flinched slightly and stared at him, your mouth agape, your eyes wide, and your expression bewildered.

"Sorry," Wade apologized quickly, his voice quiet and strained. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "But, goddamn, that’s… oh, man. You do not know how wrong you are."

"Oh, don’t even, Winston Wilson, this is not the time for your jokes," you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oh, middle names, huh? Are we there already? Because I have to say, I didn't think you were the type of girl who'd use a guy's full name to show her disappointment, but I have to admit, it's kind of hot."

Wade smirked at the annoyed look that crossed your face, but it soon faded as he realized that you didn't find the comment amusing.

Instead, you seemed to grow even more frustrated.

"Wade," you started, your voice soft and low, your tone filled with frustration and sadness, "I don’t want to get into it right now, okay? Can we please just eat our food and watch a movie or something?"

You turned away from him, focusing your attention on the bag of Checkers.

He couldn’t let you avoid this.

"Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk," he began, his voice soft and gentle, "I'm just… did you seriously never think I would want to be with you?"

You paused and turned to look at him, a confused expression on your face.

"Of course not; why would I?"

The genuine shock in your voice and the innocent look on your face nearly broke his heart.

He thought he was being the most obvious motherfucker on the planet, but apparently, you had been as blind as a bat.

"I've been flirting with you for years," he reminded you. "I've been complimenting you, and asking you to hang out, and giving you gifts, and—"

"That's just what you do, Wade," you interrupted, shaking your head. "That's what you do to all girls. You flirt with them. You ask them out. You do the whole charming and funny routine. I’m sure if you knew their addresses, you would break in too."

Okay, ouch.

You weren't exactly wrong, but still, that kind of stung.

"That's not what I'm talking about," he insisted, his voice growing louder, his tone firm.

"What are you talking about, then?"

"I'm talking about you, okay? You’re like the Goldie Hawn to my Kurt Russell. Or, if I'm being completely honest, you're like chimichangas and tacos, and not just because they're both delicious, but because, let's face it, I'm addicted to you."

Your expression remained neutral, your eyes still boring into his.

"You're my best friend," he continued, his voice growing softer, his tone gentler, "and, yeah, maybe I used to flirt with other girls a lot, but I don't care about them. I don't even really know them. And, besides, none of them would be able to look me in the eyes right now, the way you are."

"Don’t start with that," you mumbled, averting your gaze and looking down at the floor.

"Start with what?"

"Being self-deprecating."

"It's not self-deprecating," he said, his tone growing defensive. His whole confession was momentarily forgotten. "It's true. I am a walking nightmare, and not just because I look like Freddy Krueger and Leatherface had a baby, but also because I've killed more people than I've seen naked."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven't seen you naked," you retorted, a playful smirk forming on your lips.

"Hey, don't tease me. I'm already emotionally vulnerable enough."

You snorted, but your grin was soft and warm.

"Okay, sorry," you said, your tone apologetic, your expression serious, "but, seriously, though, you’re not a nightmare. Not to me. I mean, sure, you look like a melted wax figurine, and your personality is like a mix between a hyperactive 10-year-old and a 70-year-old alcoholic, but, you know, I don't mind."

"Oh, you're too kind."

"My point is, it doesn't bother me, Wade," you assured him. "And it never will."

"Even if it does," he said, his voice quiet, his tone low, "it won't change the way I feel about you."

Your expression softened, the playfulness fading from your eyes. You looked about ready to let out some tears, but Wade had a feeling that they weren’t because you were sad.

"Did you really think that all this time?" you asked, the softness in your tone making his chest tighten. "You wanted to date me?"

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Yeah," he answered, his tone casual, "you’re hot, toots. Even hotter than me in my prime."

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile on your face. "I don’t know, Wade. The suit does you justice."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Is that your way of telling me that my ass looks good in this thing?"

"Oh, Wade, I don't need to tell you that," you replied, smirking. "You know how amazing your ass is."

You’re right. Captain America had nothing on him.

He let out a deep breath, his eyes fixed on yours. He was silent for a long moment, just taking in your appearance.

You didn’t change much from that day at the party. Maybe your facial features matured a little, and maybe your body grew a little more, but besides that, you looked the same.

The only difference was the look you gave him. The softness of your eyes. The affection in your expression. The gentleness of your smile.

It was the same look he constantly gave you when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was the look of someone who cared deeply for you. Someone who cherished you. Who wanted to make you happy. Who wanted to be by your side forever.

Someone who loved you.

"Do you ever wonder what would've happened if we kissed that night?"

He didn’t expect you to know exactly what he was talking about. Random question and all that. But, you surprised him once again.

"Why didn’t you?"

The question caught him off guard.

He was used to the playful banter, the light teasing, the random flirting. He wasn’t used to you being so forward. So blunt.

He was the blunt one. You were stealing his thunder.

"I was a cowardly bitch."

His honesty surprised both of you. He didn’t even plan on saying that. It was just the first thing that popped into his head.

It was true, though.

"Are you still a cowardly bitch?"

"I think so," he said slowly, "I think the main difference is, now I'm a cowardly bitch that knows what he wants."

He saw the way your cheeks reddened, the way you avoided his gaze, and the way you shifted your weight from side to side.

Wade Wilson may not be good at emotions, but he knew what those signs meant.

He was making you nervous.

He couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face. He liked that. He liked that he made you nervous. That he made you blush. That he could make you flustered.

And, most of all, he liked that he was able to make you feel that way.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman was that shy and timid around him. Most of the girls he met were bold, confident, and loud… just like him.

He preferred your type, though. Sometimes, he even needs a break from his own obnoxiousness.

"So," he started, his tone casual, his posture relaxed, "you chill with the idea of ruining a perfectly good friendship and getting in a relationship with me? A crazy, scarred, murderous man who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut?"

He watched you take a deep breath, your eyes focused on his, a faint smile on your face.

"I'll consider it," you responded, your tone playful, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "but you have to answer one question first."

"Oh, a quiz? Can we have a prize for the winner?"

You chuckled.

"What's the question?"

You smiled.

"When you said that you've killed more people than you've seen naked, was that true?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. Something told him that lying was not an option here.

"And, when you said that the suit does me justice," he started, his tone casual, his eyes bright, and his smile mischievous, "was that your way of telling me that you want to see me naked?"

"You wish, Wilson."

"You're right. I do."

He didn't mean to sound so sincere, but, damn, the words just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Wade watched as you smiled and turned your attention toward the bag of Checkers momentarily, and, for a split second, Wade worried that he had taken things too far. That he had scared you away.

He shouldn't have been worried.

Because, when you moved the bag to the table and stood up, his eyes immediately focused on the way your lips were twisted into a smirk and the way your eyes were locked on his.

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t need to. He was already nodding along for whatever plan was formulating in that pretty little head of yours.

And, when you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close and leaning in close, it was like he was back at that party.

It was the same feeling.

The nervousness. The anticipation. The excitement. The anxiety. The giddiness. The rush.

Everything was the same, except this time, it was actually happening. And, he was sober.

As you pulled him in, he leaned forward and closed the distance between you, kissing you slowly, his eyes closed, his hands on your hips, and his lips pressed against yours. The mask that had been halfway covering his face was now tossed aside by him to indulge in the kiss fully.

It was better than he could have ever imagined.

You were better than he could have ever imagined.

But then, his insecurities kicked in, and the reality of the situation hit him. In his mind, he had imagined this moment with his younger, healthier self. The buffed-out arms, the clear skin, the perfect jawline. He still had that scruff of a beard in his mind, and the outlines of his eyebrows did not melt completely.

But, when he felt your lips against his, and the softness of your touch, the warmth of your body, the taste of your tongue, he was reminded that you didn’t picture him as he once was.

You were seeing him as he was now. Hairless, deformed, scarred, a hot mess, and a complete disaster. And you were still kissing him. You were still touching him. You were still here.

It was better than anything his imagination could conjure up.

Because, for once, reality was better than fantasy. For once, he realized that maybe his face wasn’t a face only a mother could love and that maybe his looks weren't a dealbreaker for a certain somebody.

You broke the kiss and pulled away, staring at him, your face inches away from his. He stared at you, his eyes meeting yours.

He was searching, trying to read you, trying to figure out what was going through your mind. See if you had those second thoughts. If you regret this.

All he found, though, was that pretty little smile of yours. The one that made his heart skip a beat. The one that made him smile back.

"Well," you started, your eyes sparkling with mischief, "if it's any consolation, Wade, I think our friendship was pretty fucked the minute I decided to give you my number."

He raised an eyebrow, a grin forming on his lips.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded, biting your lip and leaning in close. Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking the skin softly. He shuddered. "I should've known the minute I decided to become friends with a guy who would willingly call himself Deadpool that it was a done deal."

He smirked, his fingers dancing across the small of your back.

"I'll try not to feel too offended by that."

"Trust me, you shouldn't," you murmured, your hand sliding down from his face to his shoulder, resting there. "It's not a bad thing, really. I mean, it's pretty awesome to have a friend who can take a bullet for you."

He smiled.

"Damn right, baby girl."

Your hand slid down from his shoulder, slowly moving down his arm, until you were grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"But, Wade," you continued, squeezing his hand lightly, your eyes focused on his, a frown on your face, "you have to promise me something."

"Anything," he replied instantly.

You hesitated.

"Promise me," you started, your voice firm, your expression serious, "you’ll start to see yourself as I do."

Wade blinked, surprised.

That was not what he was expecting.

"You have a crush on my scars?"

He couldn't resist. He had to crack a joke. He was nervous. When wasn’t he cracking a joke?

He was also confused, but, hey, the joke was funnier.

"No," you replied, rolling your eyes, a faint smile on your face, "but I see past the scars."

"And, the crazy?"

"That too."

"And, the murderous tendencies?"

"Yes, Wade, everything," you answered, grinning, your eyes bright. "I see all of it, and it’s about damn time you do too."

"Yeah," he breathed out, "well, it's not as easy as you make it seem."

"Nothing is, Wilson."

You stared at him, the softness in your eyes, the gentleness in your smile, the affection in your voice.

He couldn't believe it.

But he couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face, the warmth that filled his chest, or the butterflies in his stomach.

"I'll try."

For one of the rarest times in his life, Wade’s tone was completely sincere. Not a hint of humor or sarcasm. Just pure honesty.

And, judging by the way your face lit up and the way you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close, hugging him tightly, you appreciated his sincerity.

You rested your chin on his shoulder, your eyes closing.

"Good," you whispered. "That's all I ask."

His arms wrapped around you and held you close, his fingers running through your hair, his nose buried in your neck. He took in your scent, letting it fill his nostrils, his senses.

And, for once, everything was quiet. Everything was calm. Everything was perfect.

He didn't feel the need to crack a joke. To make a comment. To ruin the moment. He didn't want to. He just wanted to sit there and hold you, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

He was content.

And he was happy.

Happy that you were with him.

And, most of all, he was grateful that he broke into your apartment and made himself comfortable on your couch.

[moody-alcoholic]

Coffee

I've had this story saved for a while now trying to muster the confidence to post it today is the day! I'm finally jumping straight out of my comfort zone and into new territory wish me luck... Can you tell I'm bad a naming things, title coming soontm... when I think of one.

DISCLAMER: This is my first time writing a reader fic so please be gentle. It is also my first time writing a fic that is pretty much going to be centered around smut. I am also really bad at writing Soap's accent my dyslexic brain freaks out too much, I will strive to improve though XD

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 3.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. Am I doing this right?? CW: This chapter is SFW, but in future it will get spicy so for my own sanity +18 MDNI mentions of sex, descriptions of injuries.

Part 2 Masterlist

Phew, Enjoy <3

“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway there are some soldiers waiting, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name. 

“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.

“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.

He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer. 

“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him. 

“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy.

“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a few paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional. 

“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him. 

“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”

“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulled the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen. 

“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask. 

“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.

“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minutes before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out. 

“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now had his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray. 

“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment. 

“Do you want any pain relief?” You ask. 

“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out. 

“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.

“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man. You smile handing the paper to him.

“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door. 

“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest. 

————————

Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him ether. 

“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face. 

“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station. 

“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something…” He trails off. “Now what was it?” 

“Painkillers?” You ask. 

“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room like he is trying to think hard about it.

“A tubigrip?” You ask.

“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. 

“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots. 

“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.

“What did the doctor say?” You ask. 

“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off. 

“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last. 

“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.

“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.

“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask. 

“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can't tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.

“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces. 

“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed. 

“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.

“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out, leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station. 

“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles. 

“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors. 

“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.

“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you. 

“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors. 

“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.

————————

One week later you get a text out of the blue.

Hey, this Ashe? 

It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it. 

Yeah, who’s this?

It’s only seconds later a response comes.

It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle. 

Holy shit, you choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get my number? 

How did you get my number?

From a friend of a friend..

You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask, you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him. 

Anyway…Want to get coffee? 

Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest. 

When? 

You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With me? Why?

How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?

Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date? 

Sure :)

Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look 

See ya there :)

You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. It doesn't matter if it is or not but he’s on your mind for the rest of the day until you go to bed. 

————————

You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm. 

“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. He’s smiling of course he is he sits down in the chair opposite you. His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.

“Hey,” You reply. He chuckles almost like he can feel the nervousness radiating off you. 

“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup. 

“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it. 

“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully as he gets up. 

“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He gets up walking over to the counter. You take out a deep breath, your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you. 

“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug. 

“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.  

“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.

“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact. 

“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. “You could have just caught me on the base.”

“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink. 

“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.

“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.

“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop. 

“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”

“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming yourself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.

“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.

“Work, nothing really.” You smile.

“When’s your next leave?” He asks. 

“Two weeks.” He nods like he's thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.

“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.

“I really wanted to see you again.” He said, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.

Wait what?    

“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head. 

“It’s complicated,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.

“No.” He replies flatly.

“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down. 

“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He said leaning forward. You blush at his words. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate. 

“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible. 

“I get it,” You say trying not to hide your disappointment. 

“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at Johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug. 

“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay. 

“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay Johnny, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.

————————

You make it two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him. 

“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as we were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up. The nurses giggling as they spread rumours about him. It was enough to piss you off, making you snap at them about spreading rumours like that.

“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Show some respect.” You snapped leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you. 

When you made it home you welcomed the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?

Your mind somehow turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up. 

Make it home safe? 

It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word. 

Yeah.

You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole. 

What the fuck? 

You open the door. 

“Johnny?” You ask shocked.

“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.” 

“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someone's flat.” You say.

“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in. 

“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen so there is at least a foot distance between you two. 

“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.

“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“So you’re gay?” You say, but it feels like a question. 

“Yeah, well Bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.” 

“Both?” You ask, your mouth still hanging open. 

“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.  

“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking me for sex? A threesome? 

“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He says.

“That’s it coffee?” You ask. 

“Yeah.” He says nodding. 

“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs. You close your eyes for a second thinking about it. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up. 

“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.

“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.

“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?” 

“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened?   

Next part AO3 link soontm

[captainsophiestark]

Picture Perfect

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict's childhood best friend, who he's recently started courting, notices he's been a bit off lately and decides to see if there's anything she can do to help.

Word Count: 3,045

Category: Fluff, a little bit of Angst

A/N: It's been a minute since I rewatched season 2, so I may have the timing wrong a bit. For the purposes of this fic, though, Benedict finds out that Anthony paid to make sure he got into art school at the same time that they're all at the Bridgerton's country estate.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Something was wrong with my best friend.

I could tell from the minute I saw him, as his mind was clearly somewhere else. He also gave his brother Anthony a colder shoulder than usual, which I knew Anthony likely deserved, but that Benedict rarely gave him. It must've been something pretty bad.

A few years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag Benedict somewhere and get some answers out of him, followed by doing whatever I could to cheer him up. But unfortunately for the both of us, despite having grown up together, now that we were both adults in society and he had recently started courting me, we were no longer technically allowed to be alone together. Things were usually a bit looser when it was just the Bridgertons and I, but while I'd joined them for a trip to their country estate, another family had joined us as well, tying my hands more than usual.

Still, I managed to corner him slightly away from the rest of the group after dinner that night, when I'd first noticed something off. He'd been on his way upstairs, rather than joining the rest of us in the parlor after dinner, and I managed to get in front of him quickly enough to make him stop in the hallway.

"Benedict," I said, trying to keep my voice low. He let out a long, deep sigh, but didn't move to step past me, instead fixing me with a tired stare. I frowned. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's... nothing."

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Benedict Bridgerton, I have known you since the age of five. There is no chance of that terrible lie convincing me of anything, besides perhaps that I made the right decision about checking on you."

He sighed again, this time even heavier, and when he met my gaze again it was with an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You remeber I shared my excitement with you about being accepted into art school?"

"Of course! Don't tell me something went wrong..."

He shook his head. "The opposite. Apparently my dear brother took it upon himself to make sure I got in, offering a bribe to secure my acceptance. Yet again, I fail to step out of my family's shadow and generate an accomplishment of my own, without their name and money securing it for me."

I frowned and reached out to touch his arm, but Eloise's voice from the other room promising to find where I'd wandered off to broke the moment. Benedict mustered that hollow smile again, then finally stepped around me.

"I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry about me. Just go enjoy the rest of your evening."

I frowned after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor. I briefly debated following him, but Eloise's hand on my elbow broke me from that thought.

"Y/N, what on earth are you doing out here? You're missing Kate and Anthony sparring over something trivial again."

I forced a smile onto my face that was hopefully more convincing than Benedict's and turned to face Eloise.

"Well, that's certainly something I don't want to miss. Let's go."

Eloise still looked like she had questions, but I didn't give her room to ask them as I joined the rest of our group in the parlor. Benedict stayed on my mind for the rest of the night, although I tried to hide my worry. Hopefully he'd been right about himself, and would be feeling better in the morning.

*****************

Benedict clearly wasn't feeling better in the morning. I was witnessing the man I loved having an existential crisis, and by the afternoon, I decided I couldn't sit by an watch anymore, society and the Ton and the gossips be damned.

I spent the next hour gathering and setting up the things I'd need, then went to find Benedict. He wasn't anywhere to be seen in the house, so I asked Eloise, who directed me to his bedroom.

I'd been in his bedroom before, of course, since we'd practically grown up together. But now that we'd started on the path to being something else to each other, with my heart registsering significantly more romantic feelings for the man Benedict had become, I found myself slightly nerovous as I stood outside his door. Still, I forced myself to ignore the nerves as best I could. Benedict was hurting, so everything else had to be put on hold while I helped him.

I knocked on his door, pretending my faster-than-normal heartbeat didn't exist as I waited for a response. That became much harder to accomplish when Benedict opened the door, his shirt far more open than normal and without anything over it, hair looking a rumpled mess. My heart did backflips, despite me mentally telling it to calm down.

"Y/N! I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. I must look a mess-"

"No, not at all!" I said much too quickly. "You look, uh... very nice."

The familiar lopsided smile I loved so much appeared on Benedict's face as he leaned on the doorframe before me. He raised an eyebrow, the familiar spark of mischief that I loved so dearly igniting in his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, he looked to be slightly back to himself.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear you think so. What brings you to my door, then?"

"You haven't seemed to be doing very well since you got the news about Anthony. And don't try to deny it, I know you too well. So, I thought I'd come find you and try to help cheer you up."

Benedict's eyebrow rose again as he crossed his arms.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you. But we're going to have to be a bit sneaky about leaving."

Benedict's mood lifted the moment he found out we were going to sneak out of the house together. We'd been regular trouble makers as children, sneaking out for adventures at least once a week, but since we'd both grown up that had basically come to a stop. Now, as I took his hand and dragged him along behind me and we ran through the countryside and left Bridgerton House in our wake, I couldn't stop a wild laugh from bubbling out of my chest. I'd missed this much more than I'd wanted to admit.

"Where are we going?" Benedict called, his own voice breathy and laced with laughter as we ran. I just shot him a grin back over my shoulder.

"You'll see!"

He huffed, but didn't protest as he followed after me. Finally, after winding through the woods and climbing a rather steep hill, we reached the spot I'd spent so long making nice this morning.

This hilltop looked out over the countryside stretching beautifully below us, even better now as the sun had started to get a bit lower in the sky. Waiting for us was a picnic blanket spread out in the grass with all of our favorite foods, wine, and an easel with art supplies set up right next to it. I dropped Benedict's hand as we came to a stop, instead turning to face him with a grin.

"Well? What do you think?"

He stared at everything I'd laid out, mouth open slightly in shock. His brow furrowed when he saw the canvas, and he turned back to me.

"What is all this?"

"It's a picnic, for the two of us," I said. "To watch the scenery and the sunset together without the pressures of society or being a Bridgerton to bring us down. The easel is optional–we can pack it away right now if you want to. But you told me you think Anthony's the reason you got into art school, and I don't agree. I've seen your work, and I know just how good it is. You got in on merit, Benedict. But I know I can't just say that and have you believe it, so I brought some supplies here so you can prove it, if you want to. Paint this moment for the two of us, and I'll swear on our relationship and everything I hold dear to be honest about what I think. Completely, totally, brutally honest."

Benedict's eyebrow quirked again.

"Well, I don't know if brutal is completely necessary..."

"I mean it, Ben. I hate to see you like this, doubting yourself. So if there's something I can do to counter Anthony's idiotic meddling, I'd like to."

"And what if..." He cleared his throat, emotion swirling in his gorgeous brown eyes as he met my gaze. "What if the truth would only serve to enforce what I know? That Anthony's meddling and money is the only reason I've gotten where I am."

I shook my head. "That won't happen-"

"Y/N." I stopped, biting my lip and forcing myself to meet Ben's stare again. He took a few steps forward until we were right in front of each other, then took my hands gently in his own. "What if it does?"

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. "Then I will keep my word and tell you so. One way or another, I will tell you the truth, even if it may not be what I want to tell you. I swear it, Ben."

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning my face. We stayed like that for a few long moments, and briefly, I thought Benedict might make a move to do something I never though he'd do with the Ton hovering over both our shoulders whenever we were together. But then he sighed, a smile returning to his face as he stepped away.

"Alright then. I believe you, and I value your opinion. And since you went to all the trouble to drag these supplies up here in the first place... I may as well get started."

I beamed at him. "I'll pour us some wine."

"Please."

When Benedict first sat down at his canvas, he kept fidgeting nervously, his hands hovering and twitching over various paints and brushes as he second-guessed his decisions. But slowly, as I kept up a stream of conversataion, supplying him with food and drink for fuel as he needed it, I noticed him beginning to relax.

"This is nice," I mused, leaning back on the picnic blanket and looking out at the scenery as Benedict worked. The sun had gotten much lower in the sky than when we'd left, which Benedict had grumbled about as it impacted his painting. Still, the golden light, soft breeze, and warm, fresh air felt like heaven to me.

"I agree," he said, not taking his eyes away from his easel. "I missed running off on adventures with you at the drop of a hat."

"So did I. But, hopefully... we may be able to get back to that again sometime soon."

Benedict looked over at me from his easel, a rougish grin on his face.

"If I didn't know better, Lady Y/L/N, I would think you were boardering on making me a marriage proposal."

I faced forward and closed my eyes under the guise of feeling the sun, trying to ignore my heart pumping frantically in my chest.

"Well. Fortunately for us both, you do know better. And it's not as if you're some strange man I met at court. You're... Ben. My best friend."

"I never said I wouldn't like it, did I? It would be an honor to be proposed to by you."

I cracked one eye open, turning my head to face Benedict with a grin. He wasn't looking at me, his stare focused on his canvas, his face completely serious. My heart stopped threatening to explode out of my chest, and instead settled into the unique, glowing warmth of love I felt whenever Benedict and I were together.

"I love you, Ben," I said, my voice soft and quiet. He stopped his work completely to turn and look at me, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you too. Very, very much." We held each others' stares for a moment, soaking in the comfort and joy of being together, and then Benedict's smile turned into a more edged grin. "It's a good thing we feel so strongly, since we may just be forced into an earlier marriage than planned to avoid a scandal after disappearing for an entire afternoon and evening together."

I huffed and waved him off. "Fortunately, I predict your brother will be accidentally helping us and making up for causing this crisis of confidence in the first place. He and Miss Kate Sharma are so ridiculous and dramatic together, I highly doubt anyone will notice we're gone."

Benedict chuckled, turning back to his work to scan it one last time before finally setting down his paintbrush. He took a deep breath, then stood and offered a hand to me.

"I've finished," he announced as I took his hand. He pulled my to my feet, but instead of looking at the painting, my eyes stayed fixed on him. We were almost chest to chest, and I could tell from his furrowed brows and darting eyes just how nervous he was about my verdict. "Remember, you promised me honesty."

"And honesty you will get."

Finally, I turned from Benedict to the canvas he'd been working on all afternoon. I'd resisted peeking before now at his request, so I wouldn't have any bias from watching his process. Fortunately, just as I'd predicted, his work was magnificent.

"Benedict..." I breathed as I took in the soft lines and vibrant colors before me. It perfectly captured how I felt looking out at the valley before us; it captured the gorgeous scenery, yes, but it also infused everything with a bit of magic that I only felt in this space with him. "This is absolutely incredible."

Benedict came around to stand next to me, arms crossed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shaking his head.

"Now please don't forget, you promised me honesty."

"I am being honest! Benedict, this is fantastic. The way you capture the myriad of different shades of the light shining across the valley, the seamless lines giving the world a slightly hazy, dreamlike look, and the way you've left the paint a bit messier with the clouds, to make it look like they're moving? It's all perfect, Ben. And masterful. It's a picture of the valley, yes, but it looks like it's alive. And you somehow managed to capture what it feels like to be here in the moment together, the sun on our faces, with each other even when we're not supposed to be, in a truly special way. You're an incredibly talented artist, and I'd be saying that even if you were a complete stranger that I didn't particularly like."

He snorted, then after a second, wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest. I leaned into him immediately, sighing a bit as he leaned his head against mine.

"I have a hard time believing you'd say all that to a stranger you didn't like."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, and he laughed without letting me go. A smile spread on my own face despite myself.

"Alright, maybe I wouldn't say all that to a stranger I didn't like. But I'd say it about their work when they couldn't hear me, probably to you. My point stands, Ben. You are a very skilled and talented artist. Anthony isn't the reason you got into that school. You are."

His chest rose and fell with a long, deep breath, and then finally, I felt him nod.

"Thank you. I can't promise it will always be easy for me to always believe it, but... I'll try to remember your words, and not my brother's, from now on."

"Good. And if you feel down again, you can always come to me. I'll always be there for you, Benedict, whenever you need me."

"And I you, my love," he said, moving down to whisper the words in my ear as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, too. He kissed my cheek, and I leaned back into his chest for a moment before turning around in his arms to face him.

The beautiful, kind smile I'd fallen in love with stared back at me, along with his warm brown eyes. I smiled too, then finally stopped ignoring my racing heart and decided to continue the theme of ignoring the Ton and what they might say.

I leaned into Benedict, closing the distance between us with a glance at his lips before meeting his eyes again. Both of his eyebrows shot up, but he didn't pull away.

"Y/N... if anyone found out..."

I smiled. "They won't. Besides, they'd just make us follow through on something we're already planning, anyway."

Benedict huffed a laugh, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he looked at me like he couldn't believe I was real. Then, his arms tightened around my waist, and he leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling Benedict stop just a hair's breadth away from my lips.

"Are you sure-"

I closed the distance myself before he could continue. Benedict smiled into the kiss a moment later, pulling me closer to him, the two of us locked in each others' embrace as the sun set in the hills behind us. Truly, I didn't think anyone would be able to find out about how we'd spent our afternoon, but I also truly didn't care. I loved Benedict, and even though it was technically early in our courtship, I'd known him for most of my life. I knew we were meant to spend our lives together, and I knew he felt the same way as I did. Sooner or later, we'd make it official with an engagement and marriage, and be able to disappear together whenever we wanted without the Ton batting an eyelash. But, in the meantime, I didn't mind sneaking away for private moments like this one bit. No matter what had led to it in the first place.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

**

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

**

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

**

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling for you too.” Cassian says with a fond smile.

Your lips lift into a smile of your own as you look back at him. But it's short lived. There's a flash of red and then Cassian is forcing your sword back into your hands.

"I thought we were done for today," you groan, knowing that you in fact were not done. You just hoped your confession would've distracted him enough.

The soft smile on Cassian's face is replaced with a smug smirk. "Not until you get this move right, sweetheart. In position. Go."

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️ idk how siphon powers work 100% but let's just roll with Cas's siphons being able to pick up a sword.

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

[yeokii]

⌗ ADORE YOU ﹕이희승 (TEASER)

꒰ synopsis ꒱ all hopes were crushed when you realized there was no way to get close to your crush, choi beomgyu. your advances to get close to him never seemed to work. so, you decided to get closer to his best friend, heeseung, by joining the broadcasting club. but as scripts change, so do crushes, and you end up falling for his best friend instead.

▸ auditions are open . . . !

ㅤ❕MATCHMAKER ── crush bsf ! heeseung x reader

fast forward  ⃕ [ genre ] : written, fluff, angst, 90s au, unrequited love

meet the members ! beomgyu, gaeul, jungwon, taehyun, juyeon [more tba.]

warnings 𖧷 [only in this scene] unrequited love, yn kinda uses hee, thats all I think

ㅤhe's a real catch ▹ est. 2OK ❨ 이희승 ❩ ⌗ catch adore you here!

⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . . hi (still on hiatus kinda) js came here to post the fic teaser :D (im prolly gna post this after mocks or after my igcses) also ty @yenqa sewlmate for writing the synopsis (ly dookie) send an ask or comment to be added in the taglist !

THE FALL OF NINETEEN-NINETY SIX MARKED A PIVOTAL MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE. Ever since you came into the world, you never really could grasp the concept of love.

You wrapped your head around the myths and tales your mother would read to you every night. You thought that every princess would have her own shining knight in armor. So, after thirteen years of living, where was yours?

Your knight in shining armor, or knights in shining armor, existed within the pages of the comic books you read. You often wondered if they would magically pop out of your books and transport you into their world. Similarly, you wondered whether any of the characters from your adored TV shows would step out and bring you into their lives.

So, it wasn't a surprise when your jaw dropped to the ground as you saw the most beautiful man in your life (well, technically, boy). If the epitome of beauty was a fourteen-year-old boy, it would be Beomgyu.

But it wasn’t just his face that made your thirteen-year-old self swoon over him, it was also the way he acted. You loved the way he conversed, his smooth way of talking at a young age and the way he smiled at you every time he made jokes with his friends. You loved how his eyes lightened every time he’d pull a silly prank.

But the problem was, he never talked to you. You admired him from afar. You never actually had the guts to talk to him, as if. You were content with watching his funny actions from a distance.

There were some moments when you pushed aside your nervousness and talked to him. You remember having butterflies in your stomach the moment you first talked to him. There were times when you both were paired up as project partners for a biology assessment and at that moment, you swore you could’ve worshiped the floor that your biology teacher walked on due to her giving you an opportunity like this.

You knew this was an opportunity to make your move. And you did. You brought him small snacks with little notes on them. Gave him gifts regularly. Maybe even took lessons from your best friend on how to subtly flirt with him. You really thought you had him. Because whenever you used to play out these little acts, you saw the subtle smile on his face. You were so close. It’s like the universe laid it out for you. Gosh, how lucky you were!

Luck. The luck that you thought you had. If luck was a person, you would’ve tackled it to the ground already. Because the day you were about to confess to him was the day he announced his new girlfriend. 

His first girlfriend. You doubt you called it ‘love’ since the only thing she cared about was that he was popular and pretty. That’s it! All that girl could get from Beomgyu was his looks and his reputation. You could’ve scoffed at the sight.

Beomgyu was so much more than that. He was loyal, kind, and trustworthy. And she went for his looks. Even though she had him, you felt as if she was missing out on so much. You were partly sad due to them getting together and also due to Beomgyu getting used to his looks.

So, you were practically prancing when you heard the news of their breakup a month later. Did you care that Beomgyu was absolutely heartbroken? Well, yes, but you felt relieved that Beomgyu was finally unleashed from that mean troll's wrath.

And as he got older, he grew more handsome. And God did you love it. When you entered high school he was a completely different person. He had gotten more flirty and way more pretty. He was way out of your league. 

Out of the years you were in this crappy high school, you made absolutely no improvement in your and Beomgyu’s relationship. Beomgyu, who kept getting new flings every summer and tons of situationships seemed to discard your existence. One could only say ‘What the fuck?’

Your thoughts swirled, and you had a collection of emotions roaming around your head until your best friend jolted you back into reality with a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

“Are you even listening?” Seori’s voice cut through your thoughts, annoyed, since she had to explain what she was talking about in the first place.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You blinked, focusing your attention on your best friend.

She sighs, “I was saying that I think Doyoung is going to ask me out.” Seori pouts “Why does he not get that I don’t like him that way, jeez.”

Her ramble about her current boy toy washed out in the background. You were once back in your thoughts until you saw him heading into the cafeteria. Beomgyu entered the cafeteria, his smile widening at something his best friend said. 

Lee Heeseung, Beomgyu’s best friend. His ride or die. As long as you can remember, they were attached to the hip. They were basically the package deal. If Beomgyu was the life of the party, Heeseung would hold up his hair while he threw up in the host’s toilet. While Beomgyu was the exact depiction of a social butterfly, Heeseung remained aloof, keeping people at arm’s length. You could only wonder how he dealt with Beomgyu’s outbursting personality.

“Earth to Yn!” Seori snapped her fingers in front of your face which once again, brought you back to reality.

“Sorry.” You sheepishly smiled looking at your best friend's annoyed face. Your friend followed the gaze you had fixed before looking over to her. And her eyes followed the trail of your alleged ‘man’–– Beomgyu.

“Him again.”A sigh erupted from Soeri, having enough of your rambling over your four-year-old crush.

“I’m sorry, alright!” You pouted, your back hunching over the disappointing development between you two which was nowhere to be found. “He’s just so cute, God!”

Your sigh was followed by your best friend. Not long after, your best friend’s fed-up expression converted into a rather eager one.

“I got it!” She exclaimed, her hand hitting your back while she practically screamed. You winced in pain as a few fellow students gave you judgemental stares.

“All you have to do is be close with his best friend, Lee Heeseung.” She slowly said, almost like a mastermind coming up with a villainous plan–well, you would consider your best friend to be some sort of evil criminal.

But this, this opened new angles in your head. It felt like the universe–or more like your best friend–laid it out for you again. Your once unsolvable puzzle showed a new direction, and the missing piece was all in front of you. 

Okay, maybe you felt bad that you were going to use Heeseung like that, even looking forward to it. But, you were really desperate. To the point where you would actually be eager to attend Sunday mass just to ask God for Beomgyu to like you back or even spare one glance at you. Well, what could you do? 

Out of excitement, you pulled Seori in for a hug with a squeal while giving her a kiss on the cheek which she in return, yelped. “Seori, you’re a genius!”

“Yes, I know.” She laughed a bit, escaping your tight grip on her before wiping the spot you kissed her hastily with her hands.

“I mean, how hard could it be?” 

You smiled and your gaze wet up to the boy you loved for most of your life, then slowly to the equally handsome boy.

Jackpot.

adore you tags . @wonsbaer @isoobie @armydrcamers @heegyuwrld @nxzz-skz @txtlyn @enhastolemyheart @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @sumzysworld @eleanorheartschishiya @petalsofink @bluujeans @jvjsssnaa @iamliacamila @m3chigo @oldjws @kyrjnie @heartswonn @aeminju @en-dream @yeahsspider @imstupidcheesecat [closed]

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

[dee-writes-anime]

I'm Here, I'm Always Here

FEATURING Shoto Todoroki x Reader

SUMMARY Shoto can't take it anymore, good thing you are always willing to take good care of your icyhot sweetheart.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, Shoto being taken care of like he deserves, an excuse for me to wash my boys hair T-T, hurt/comfort, Shoto needs a hug PLEASE HUG HIM OML

AUTHORS NOTE this is not the BakuDeku slow burn that I've been working on the past week, unfortunately. I promise I am still working on it, it's just a BEAST of a fic and I am still not done writing it. So, instead of continuing in my silence, I decided to share this Shoto fic I've been sitting on for a FAT minute. <3

“You’ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.” 

Shoto Todoroki is sitting on the floor of your shower, curled into himself, trembling violently. His knees are drawn tight against his chest, and his head is buried deep between his crossed arms, tucked into the wet skin of his legs. The water pounds mercilessly on his back, scalding hot, the sound of it a steady hiss against the tile as steam swirls like smoke in the air. It clings to the room in suffocating waves, thick enough to feel like it’s pressing down on him, drowning him with every strained breath. The water pelts his cold skin, too hot and too harsh, but he doesn’t move. He just rocks slowly, back and forth, shaking with each shallow inhale. 

You hadn't been home, hadn’t heard the news. You were a world away, caught in the aftermath of a grueling mission in Indonesia, helping local heroes dismantle a quirk-empowered sex trafficking ring. You hadn’t known what had gone down between Shoto and the villain he fought today. You hadn’t known he’d be fighting for his life while you were halfway across the world, in a place that had felt so beautiful, so serene in comparison to what he must have gone through. 

While you’d been basking in the warm Indonesian sun, calling him every night to talk, laugh, share silly stories, Shoto had been here, battling something far darker than either of you could have anticipated. You would stay on the phone with him for hours, sometimes dozing off mid-conversation, your voices filling the quiet voids of each other’s days. But today, today you hadn’t been able to answer. 

You’d been on a plane, finally heading home after days of tension and exhaustion. The mission was done; you had succeeded in catching the ring leaders, and the police were making their arrests. But it wasn’t over for Shoto. 

He had stayed at your apartment while you were gone, taking care of Mr. Wellbottom, your moody, gray tabby. Shoto had taken the task without hesitation, even though you’d thanked him a thousand times, feeling guilty for asking him to go out of his way. But Shoto had only smiled, brushing off your offers of repayment, telling you it was no trouble at all. The truth, however, was that Shoto preferred it here. Your apartment, small and cluttered as it was, was warm—unlike the empty coldness of his own space. Here, everything smelled like you—soft, comforting, familiar. He’d found himself sinking into the warmth of it, into the messy piles of books, your worn-out blankets, and even the prickly affection of Mr. Wellbottom. 

Because here, in your space, Shoto could pretend, just for a little while, that he was more than just your close friend. More than just the boy who kept you company and helped take care of your cat. Here, he could pretend he belonged. 

But today, the weight of everything had become too much, and all the warmth of your apartment, of your affection, couldn’t hold back the storm brewing inside him. He loved you more than anything in the world, more than he could ever say, which was why he had resigned himself to being just this—just your closest friend. Because losing you, risking what you had by asking for more, was something he couldn’t bear. So, he stayed quiet, enduring, grateful for whatever piece of you he could keep. 

The villain Shoto had fought today was unlike any other—someone who could take the deepest, darkest corners of a person's mind and twist them until reality blurred into something grotesque. He wasn’t a stranger to this villain, not after the many run-ins he’d had in his relentless hunt to stop him. Shoto had endured before, forced to relive the bitter memories of his father, the abuse, the cruelty that had shaped so much of his childhood. And then, as if that weren’t enough, the villain had dredged up the image of his brother—his death, and later, the painful fight against him. But even those memories, awful as they were, Shoto had withstood. 

Today, however, had been different. 

This time, the villain had reached deeper, pulling on a thread of Shoto’s mind that was too precious to tamper with. He had taken you. The memory of your warmth, your laughter, your soft presence that had become Shoto’s solace—and twisted it into something horrific. 

In the vision the villain conjured, Shoto found himself standing in your small, familiar kitchen. The tiled floor beneath him, a dull, faded yellowish hue, felt so real. Too real. And there, lying crumpled on the ground, was you. Blood—thick and horrifyingly red—leaked from a deep gash in your abdomen, pooling on the floor and staining the tiles beneath you. Shoto's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he dropped to his knees beside you. His hands, shaking uncontrollably, grabbed the first thing he could find—the knit blanket you always draped across the back of the couch. The same one he had used just days before to coax Mr. Wellbottom into curling up with him for a late-night picture. 

But now, that blanket was being pressed against your wound, its soft cream fabric soaking through with the vivid, sickening color of your blood. The warmth that had once been your safety net, the thing that reminded him of you every time he wrapped it around himself, was now drenched in the memory of your loss. 

The image wouldn’t leave him. 

No matter how much he blinked, no matter how hard he tried to force himself back into reality, the memory the villain had warped stuck in his mind like a jagged shard of glass. He could still see your lifeless form, still feel the weight of the blood-soaked blanket in his trembling hands. It was too vivid. Too visceral. 

The villain knew exactly what he was doing, attacking Shoto’s weakest point. He had toyed with Shoto's mind, playing his memories like a puppet on strings, twisting them until every bit of hope, every ounce of warmth, turned to something grotesque. You were Shoto’s anchor, the light in the darkness of his life, and to turn that into something filled with blood and pain—that had broken him in ways nothing else ever had. 

When Shoto had finally snapped out of it, it had been too late. The villain was gone, disappeared into the chaos, and Shoto was left kneeling on the ground in the middle of the battlefield, still shaking from the aftershocks of the warped vision. His teammates had tried to help him, tried to call out to him, but he couldn’t hear anything but the sound of your blood dripping onto the cold kitchen floor. He could feel his own heart hammering against his ribs, threatening to tear itself apart from the inside. 

And now here he was, in your shower, trying and failing to wash the memory away. He had come back to your apartment because it was the only place that felt remotely safe, remotely real. But even here, surrounded by the things that usually comforted him, he couldn’t escape it. The scalding water beat down on his back, punishing him, as if he could burn the image out of his mind. But nothing helped. Nothing could erase the sight of your body, limp in his arms, as the life drained out of you in that twisted vision. 

When he heard your soft voice, it was as though the world tilted back into focus for the first time since the nightmare began. It started with a gentle gasp, a sound so quiet he might’ve missed it if he weren’t so desperate to hear something real. Then came the hurried footsteps, the soft padding of your feet against the floor growing louder as you rushed toward the bathroom. The water stopped abruptly, the harsh, scalding heat suddenly replaced by the cool air around him, and then—your hands. Your hands, warm and steady, were threading through his soaked hair, each stroke slow and deliberate, as though grounding him back into the present. 

But Shoto flinched at the contact, his breath catching in his throat. Was this real? Could this be another cruel trick, another illusion the villain had planted to break him further? He wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure—not after what he had seen. 

And then he smelled it. 

Vanilla and cashmere, the scent you always wore, the one Mina endlessly teased you about. That familiar, comforting fragrance filled his senses, and something deep inside him cracked open. It was you. The scar on your palm, the one from that quirk accident back in high school, scraped lightly against his skin as your fingers combed through his hair, the faintest of rough edges that confirmed it. No illusion could replicate the way your presence felt—how solid, how real it was. 

It was you. 

The dam inside him broke, and before he could stop himself, a sob tore from his throat, raw and desperate. His body moved before his mind could catch up, clinging to you, burying his face against your chest as the sobs came faster, his body wracked with tremors he could no longer suppress. Water soaked through your sweater, dampening your leggings, but you didn’t care. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer as you whispered soft, soothing words into his ear. 

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady, grounding him. “You’re safe, Shoto. Everything’s going to be okay.” 

He could feel your heartbeat against his cheek, strong and steady, each thud an anchor that pulled him out of the nightmare and into the present. You were real. You were here, holding him close, and for the first time since the mission, the suffocating weight in his chest loosened, just a fraction, as your warmth began to chase the cold from his bones. 

After what felt like minutes—or maybe hours; he couldn’t tell—of you simply holding him, your warmth wrapped around him like a lifeline, you shifted. Slowly, you stood, your movements careful and deliberate, as if afraid to pull away too fast. You reached for the shower knob, turning the water back on, this time to a much gentler temperature. The scalding heat from before was replaced by a soothing warmth that cascaded down his back, easing the tension in his muscles. 

Without saying a word, you grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the cubby—a fancy brand you always scolded him for trying to use when he stayed over. He could almost hear your playful voice in his head, telling him he wasn’t allowed to touch the ‘good stuff.’ But now, you weren’t teasing. You were quiet, focused, as you squeezed a generous amount into your palm and began to gently massage it into his scalp. 

Your fingers moved with care, threading through his hair in slow, circular motions. Each touch was gentle, deliberate, as if you were trying to wash away more than just the dirt and grime of the day. Shoto closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the sensation, the rhythmic motion of your hands calming the storm inside him. The scent of the shampoo—familiar and soft, just like everything else about you—filled the air, wrapping him in its comforting embrace. 

You worked the shampoo into every strand, massaging his scalp until his hair was thoroughly coated in suds. Each pass of your fingers through his mismatched hair felt like a promise—unspoken, but deeply felt. You weren’t going anywhere. You were still here, taking care of him in the only way you knew how. 

And for the first time that night, as you stood there with him, washing away the pain of the day, Shoto felt like he might be able to breathe again. 

After finishing with the shampoo, your hands moved with the same careful tenderness, reaching for the conditioner. You uncapped the bottle, the familiar scent wafting into the air, and squeezed a dollop into your palm. The water flowed in a soft cascade over Shoto’s back, creating a calm, steady rhythm in the background as you worked the conditioner through his hair. 

Your fingers glided through the wet strands, smoothing them gently. As you massaged the conditioner into his scalp, your voice broke the quiet. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time,” you began, your voice low and soft. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Shoto.” 

The words hung in the air, blending with the sound of water pattering against the tile. Shoto didn’t react at first, still processing everything. But you didn’t stop, your fingers working through his hair with care as you continued. 

“I don’t know when it started, really. I think it was sometime in high school, maybe even before that. You were always so strong, so quiet, but… you carried so much. I remember that day during our first year, when you told us about your father. About your family. You tried so hard to stay strong, to push everything down like it didn’t matter. But I saw how much it hurt you.” 

You paused for a moment, lost in the memory. You could still see it so clearly—the way Shoto had stood there, stoic and composed, while the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. But behind those mismatched eyes, you had seen something else: the vulnerability he never let anyone else see. It had been in that moment you realized just how much you cared about him. 

“And then… we got closer. We became friends,” you said, working the conditioner into his hair with slow, careful motions. “I would stay up late thinking about how brave you were. How strong. You didn’t let the things that had happened to you define who you were, and that’s what made me fall in love with you even more.” 

Shoto remained quiet, but you could feel the way his breathing had changed—slower now, steadier. You didn’t know if he was processing your words or just lost in the comfort of the moment, but it didn’t matter. You needed to say this, even if he didn’t respond. 

“And when we graduated and became pro heroes, I thought I’d let those feelings go. I thought maybe they’d fade with time. But they didn’t. Every time I saw you fight, saw you push yourself to your limits, I’d fall a little harder. You’re so strong, Shoto. You’re so brave. Even when the world tries to break you down, you keep going.” 

You paused, your fingers stilling for a moment in his hair as you thought back to all the times you’d watched him from a distance, your heart swelling with pride and admiration. 

“Like today,” you continued, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what happened out there, and you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. But I know how strong you are. I know how hard you fight, even when things get bad. You’re the bravest person I know, Shoto.” 

Your hands moved again, gently untangling the strands of his hair as you rinsed out the conditioner. The water ran over his head, carrying the suds away, and you stood there in silence for a few moments longer, letting the weight of your words settle between you. 

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you leaned in close to him, your lips brushing against his damp hair. 

“You’ve worked so hard, love,” you breathed, pressing a soft kiss to his wet forehead. “So, so hard.” 

The word slipped out—love—and it felt so natural, so right, that you didn’t even hesitate. You weren’t sure if he heard it, but you didn’t care. You meant every word. Shoto had been fighting for so long, and all you wanted was for him to know how much he meant to you. How proud you were of him. 

You stood there for a while, the water continuing to run as you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing the tension that had gripped him for so long. 

As you rinsed the conditioner from his hair, the soft hiss of water filling the room, Shoto shifted slightly beneath your hands. His head tilted back just a fraction, and for the first time since you had come home, he spoke. 

His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile and hesitant, as if he were afraid the words might break the delicate moment between you. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “For so long, I’ve felt… something. I didn’t understand it at first. But every time I was with you, it was there—this warmth I couldn’t explain.” 

You kept your hands gentle, running your fingers through his hair as the water rinsed away the last traces of conditioner. The soothing rhythm of the water was a backdrop to his quiet confession. 

“I never thought I deserved you,” Shoto admitted, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “You’re always so bright, so warm. You make everything around you feel… alive. And me—I’ve always felt like I’m stuck in this cold, this distance from everyone, like I don’t belong in your world.” 

His eyes closed, the weight of his words seeming to spill out of him now that he had started. “But every time I was with you, it felt like I could finally breathe. Like maybe… maybe I wasn’t so broken after all.” 

Your fingers continued to move through his hair, slow and deliberate, each touch a silent reassurance that you were listening, that you were there. 

Shoto’s breath hitched as he leaned into your touch, letting the water stream down his face as he spoke again, more vulnerable than you had ever heard him. “I didn’t know how to tell you how much I love you. I didn’t want to risk losing you, so I stayed quiet. I thought if I could just be close to you, that would be enough. But… it never was. I wanted more. I wanted you, and it scared me.” 

His voice faltered for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you like the mist in the air. “I love you,” he finally whispered, barely audible over the sound of the water. “I’ve loved you for so long. I just… I didn’t know how to say it.” 

The last of the conditioner was gone now, his hair clean and smooth beneath your fingers, but you didn’t pull away. You stayed there, the water running over both of you as you cradled his head in your hands, your heart swelling with every word he spoke. 

Shoto was vulnerable in a way you had never seen before—laid bare, fragile, but so open, so raw. And it was in that moment that you realized just how much this meant to him, how much he had been holding back for all these years. 

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You don’t have to be scared anymore, Shoto. I’m here. I’ve always been here.” 

You gently tilted Shoto’s head up, brushing your thumb along his jaw as the water cascaded between you, soft and warm. His eyes fluttered open, the weight of his emotions still lingering in those mismatched irises—one like molten lava, the other like glacial ice. But now, there was something different. Something softer. Something vulnerable. 

Your heart swelled as you leaned in, closing the small gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss so soft, so tender, it felt like you were sealing all the unspoken words and emotions between you. The kiss was slow, delicate—a moment where everything else faded away. It was just you and Shoto, standing there under the warmth of the water, sharing something you had both waited so long for. 

He kissed you back with a gentle urgency, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, the water from his fingers dripping down your cheek as he deepened the kiss ever so slightly, but still kept it tender, as though he were afraid of breaking the fragile moment between you. 

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Your foreheads rested together, the water still trickling over you, but the world had gone quiet, a peaceful silence wrapping around you both. 

You smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of wet hair away from his forehead. “We should get out of here before we both turn into prunes,” you murmured, a teasing lilt to your voice, though your eyes remained full of warmth. 

Shoto blinked, as if snapping out of a dream, and then nodded, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Yeah… that might be a good idea,” he said, his voice still hushed, the weight of everything that had passed between you lingering in the air. 

You stood up first, offering him your hand to help him rise from the floor of the shower. He took it, the touch of his fingers against yours sending a soft warmth through your chest. Together, you stepped out of the shower, the cool air of the bathroom a sharp contrast to the warmth you shared inside. 

Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around Shoto’s shoulders first, gently rubbing his hair dry before handing him another one. He looked at you with an expression so tender, so grateful, that it made your heart ache in the best way. You both changed into dry clothes, the atmosphere between you calm, comfortable—like the two of you had reached a new kind of understanding. 

When you finished, you sat on the edge of your bed, Shoto quietly sitting next to you. The room was dim, the soft hum of the apartment’s heater the only sound between you. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes still held traces of exhaustion, but also something lighter—a quiet relief. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh. “You’ve worked so hard, Shoto,” you whispered, echoing the words you had said before, but now they felt even more meaningful. “You don’t always have to carry everything on your own. I’m here.” 

He turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I know,” he murmured, his voice steady and soft. “I know now.” 

And for the first time in a long time, Shoto felt a sense of peace settle over him. The weight of the day, the nightmares, the fear—all of it faded into the background as the two of you sat there, sharing the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. 

It wasn’t perfect. But it was simple, and that was more than enough for both of you.  

BONUS:  

As the two of you sat in the peaceful quiet, your head still resting on Shoto’s shoulder, you felt the softest brush of fur against your leg. Before you could react, a familiar weight jumped onto the bed between you. Mr. Wellbottom, your grumpy but loyal cat, had decided to make his presence known. 

The fluffy feline nudged his head against your arm, purring loudly as if to scold you for being away for so long. He then climbed into your lap, curling up into a cozy ball as he pressed himself into your warmth, his tail flicking slightly before settling down. 

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand instinctively going to stroke his soft fur. “I missed you too, Wellbottom,” you said softly, scratching behind his ear the way you knew he liked. 

Shoto looked down at the cat, a fond look in his eyes as he watched the little scene unfold. He reached out cautiously, his hand brushing against Mr. Wellbottom’s back, and to both of your surprise, the cat didn’t protest. Instead, he let out a soft purr, accepting the gentle touch. 

“Looks like someone’s been waiting for you,” Shoto murmured, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

You laughed quietly, the sound soft and warm as it filled the room. “He missed his cuddle buddy. But you took good care of him while I was gone, didn’t you?” 

Shoto gave a small nod, his eyes still on Mr. Wellbottom as the cat shifted to press even closer to you, as if making up for lost time. “Yeah, but… I think he was waiting for you. We both were.” 

Your heart melted at those words, and you leaned into Shoto a little more, your fingers absentmindedly petting the content cat in your lap. The three of you sat there, surrounded by a calm that was as comforting as it was rare. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was still. There were no battles to fight, no villains to defeat, no painful memories clawing their way to the surface—just the soft purring of Mr. Wellbottom and the quiet warmth of Shoto at your side. 

“I’m here now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nestled into Shoto’s side. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

[lo1k-diamonds]

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart. 

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

[kp-alice]

The Fall of the Undefeated One

Summary: Your boss is the epitome of a workplace bully, pressuring everyone to work overtime even through sick days and family emergencies. Most infuriatingly, though, no one has ever dared to go against him - until now, that is.

AKA blackmailed boss!sub!Yunho x sadistic!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 505

Warnings: While I made it obvious multiple times that this is all roleplay, I still want to give a huge warning for !!!!!CNC!!!!!, blackmailing, forced feminization, pegging, taking photos during sex, crying, begging and just resisting in general (though Yunho is just pretending obv), blowjobs (f rec), Yunho gets slapped once, checking in on each other mid-scene, some pretty dark dialogue (esp at the end)

A/N: This fic is the fifth part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

"So you're absolutely, totally, one hundred percent sure you want to do this?"

"I've only told you like fifty times but yes, I am definitely, completely, one thousand percent sure."

"And you'll tell me if you want to stop?"

"Just like you'll tell me if you want to stop."

"Alright, then. See you next Friday, 'boss'."

You were sitting in your office, checking various reports and scheduling meetings for next week as usual. As Mr. Jeong's secretary, you had your own office instead of sharing a cubicle with other employees. It didn't stop you from chatting with them during lunch break, however, which led you to some very interesting information.

Contrary to your initial belief, it wasn't just you who your boss decided to be extra stern towards. As you quickly realized, the entire department was permanently overworked and underpaid, all thanks to the one man at the top. And the most infuriating thing about it all? No one dared to stand up against him. Even if they were living off 3 hours of sleep every day, even if they were denied holiday to visit their families in a dire situation, everyone just hung their heads low and obliged. The company had an incredible reputation, after all, and nobody wanted to lose a chance to write it down in their resume during their next hunt for a job. And even if someone did decide to stand up for themselves, all it took was the smallest, vaguest threat from Mr. Jeong about how other hiring companies would hear about this behavior and all protests would immediately cease.

There was nothing you could do about it, either. All you could do was just watch on as the bullying went on, shaking your head in quiet disappointment.

Until you'd also been wronged by your boss.

"What do you mean, 'paid overtime'?" Mr. Jeong mocked you right to your face. "What you call overtime, I call the bare minimum, sweetheart. I don't care if your mother is sick or your rent is past due, you only get paid for the work you've done, no charity. If you think this is too much for you, feel free to leave anytime. Don't expect to be hired anywhere else, though, every reputable company around here would love to hear my opinion on your performance before hiring you."

You were stunned, rage quietly boiling within at the audacity of the asshole in front of you. Every day for the past month and a half, because of his impossible demands, you'd been working two to four hours extra just to meet each deadline. You barely had time to sleep, let alone actually live your own life and talk to friends and family, and this is how he decided to treat you?

"Glad we settled that, then. Now go make yourself useful and bring me those copies from yesterday's meeting, will you?"

That day, you decided that your boss, Mr. Jeong Yunho himself, would pay dearly; both for what he'd done to you and to the other workers.

For the next three weeks, you dug through every file and article you could find in the office and online, desperately searching for anything big you could use against him. And, by some miracle, you found one. A real big one, in fact.

This was it. You had him in the palm of your hand, even if he didn't know it yet.

A knock came at your door, making you look up from the report you were currently working on.

"I expect to hear a very good reason for coming here right this instant, Miss L/N," was the first thing he said as he walked into the room, visibly angered. God forbid he had to approach someone for once instead of everyone crawling to him.

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Jeong, I'm sure you'll find what I'm about to tell you very interesting," you smirked as you spoke, gesturing for him to sit down on the small couch near your desk.

"Get to it then, darling, I really don't have time for this," Mr. Jeong commanded, yet again slipping a condescending pet name in to try and throw you off. Typical.

It wasn't you who was surprised, however, when you suddenly stood up, walked over to the door, and locked it. "Be patient, Jeong. If you don't want to fuck up any more than you already have, I suggest you behave yourself."

His mouth hung open, fully taken aback by this new attitude of yours. Perhaps you had a death wish, speaking to him like that, or maybe, you had just gone completely insane. Either way, he was excited to show you why you should never, ever, do that again.

But before he could say anything, you were already back at your desk, turning your laptop to face him.

"As your hard-working and thorough secretary, I've gone back on some reports and files from this year, and you'll never believe what I found!" You said with fake excitement, eyes shining. "If you look really closely, you can see each worker's salary, and then here is the amount of money they should have actually been given each month according to the government-mandated minimum wage. Care to explain why those numbers are vastly different and why none of us were notified about a raise in salary, Mr. Jeong?"

Yunho's eyes widened as he scanned the document, recognizing the spreadsheet he'd secretly made for himself to keep track of all the cuts he'd been taking from everyone's salaries. He could have sworn he'd kept the file fully private, likely even password-protected, yet, somehow, you'd managed to get your hands on it.

"Why are you- how did you get that?!" He finally said, trying to suppress the sudden anxiety churning his stomach. "Those are private files and you have no right to be looking through them! Go pack your things immediately, because you are fired - and I'm being very merciful with that decision."

"Oh, if only it was that simple, Jeong," you replied cunningly. "You can fire me all you want, but once these files go public, your reputation, company, and maybe even life will be over, I'm afraid. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, looking down as he considered his options.

"...Alright. What do you want me to do?"

Despite your best efforts, you barked out a laugh at his question, too amused by the cold facade he was still fighting so hard to keep. "There we go, finally on the right path! You're not the one making demands here, Jeong, I am. If you want to preserve everything you've managed to build so far, you better start listening to me and me only."

Yunho let out a deep, frustrated sigh, refusing to admit you were right. If any of this information were to get out into the public, his entire professional life would be over in an instant. Just as you'd said, he was completely at your mercy right now.

"Well, what do you want then? Money? A promotion? A transfer to a different company? What?"

"Strip."

...

Yunho's entire world paused the second you'd said it, freezing him in place. He had to have heard you wrong, right? There was simply no way you could have said something like that to someone like him.

"W-what?"

You let out a sigh yourself, frustrated with how uncooperative your superior was being. This was the guy demanding Herculean tasks from his subordinates on a daily basis?

"I said strip, Jeong."

His breath hitched at your angry tone, chest tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Y-you can't be serious, there's no way that-"

"What part of 'I can ruin your entire career in seconds' did you not understand?" You spat, sending a shiver down Yunho's spine. "The company or your pride, your choice."

A heavy silence hung in the air for an uncomfortably long time, turning Yunho's cheeks a deep red. He didn't know what was worse - the fact he was actually considering doing it or the fact that you knew he was considering it, judging by his lack of a response.

"...How much?"

You looked at him in confusion, swinging one leg over the other before leaning closer to his nervous form. He was clearly nervous, playing with his fingers, one leg bouncing up and down.

"'How much' what?" You finally asked back.

"How much do I have to take off?"

You snorted at the question, making him look up into your eyes. "What do you think, Jeong? Just stand up and start undressing; I'll tell you when to stop."

Yunho gulped at your words, eyes shaking. Never in your years of dating had he seen such a cold, sadistic expression on your face. Somehow, it was both incredibly intimidating and extremely arousing.

Trying his best to ignore his trembling hands, he stood up on two weak legs and reached for his suit jacket. A whimper threatened to spill past his lips as he finally undid the first button, feeling like he could just break down and cry right now from the overwhelming humiliation.

"Oh my god," you marveled, leaning back to enjoy the show, "you're actually doing it! And here I was worried I'd have to threaten you with something even bigger, yet all it took was a few words and you're already doing whatever I say."

"You know very well it's not just a 'few words'!" Yunho hissed indignantly. "If my entire future didn't depend on this, I would never-"

"Shut the fuck up and do as you're told before I get angry, Jeong," you growled back, making him immediately back down again. His hands were visibly shaking now, eliciting a few quiet curses from him as he struggled with the remaining button.

At last, he was able to get the garment off, looking at you to see if he could stop now. But your expression remained stoic, leaving him with no other choice.

Tears of humiliation stung in his eyes as he began working on his shirt but he bit them back, absolutely refusing to cry in front of you. Soon, the shirt joined his discarded suit jacket on the floor.

"Wow," you said appreciatively, unabashedly ogling his chest. "Who would have thought the office asshole had such nice tits. This is even more fun than I had imagined."

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to react to your comment, desperately wanting to but knowing it would just make everything so much worse.

"What are you waiting for?" You asked impatiently. "I didn't say you could stop yet, did I?"

"Miss L/N, you can't possibly be serious-"

"What would your family think if they found out how you treat your employees? Your father is a reputable business owner himself, isn't he?"

"I- well, yes, but- fuck," Yunho muttered to himself, trying not to let the growing despair take over. His pristinely ironed pants pooled around his feet before he stepped out of them and gave you one more hopeful look. When he was met with nothing, he sighed, taking off his socks as well before looking up again. Surely, this had to be enough, right? Right?

Silence.

Yunho's hands shook at the realization of what the silence implied, unable to bring himself to remove the last piece of clothing he still had on. Your gaze on him was unwavering, watching his every move and expression like a hawk ready to swoop in.

Which is why you also noticed the signs of genuine anxiety in him very quickly.

"What's your color, Jeong?" You asked as neutrally as you could, not wanting to fully break the scene but still wanting to check in on him.

"Green, it's green, I just-" Yunho took a deep, shaky breath, balling his fists by his sides, "I just can't get my hands to listen to me, I'm sorry."

"Listen, Jeong," you began, standing up to approach your shaking lover. "I'm going to be very generous right now and take it off for you, okay? But you can't expect me to help you with everything you're the one in trouble. Understood?"

Yunho gave you a quick, thankful nod, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched your fingers slip under the waistband of his underwear. Then, in one swift motion, you tugged the garment down, leaving him completely bare in front of you.

"There you go," you whispered softly, stepping back to admire the view. Yunho's hands did their best to cover himself but it was not exactly effective, considering your amused face. "What? Feeling shy? Don't worry, sweetheart, I have just the clothes for you."

Yunho was confused by the sudden, surprisingly nice gesture until he saw the clothes in question.

"Go on," you encouraged, shoving the clothes into his arms, "make yourself pretty."

A tear rolled down his eye as he looked at the mix of pink and white, but he quickly turned away and wiped it off, still trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"Now, Jeong," you began, back in your office chair, one leg crossed over the other, "I'm going to give you a choice. I'm afraid you have no say in what's going to happen next, but you can decide how it will go. Do you want it the easy way, or the hard way, hm?"

Yunho meekly sat on the couch, keeping his hands in his lap to prevent the pink skirt from riding up even higher than it already had. The white thigh highs on his legs didn't do much to keep him warm, sending small shivers up his spine.

"The easy way, please."

"Good boy," you praised him, though there was no actual warmth to your words. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I say so."

Yunho complied, feeling like this was one of the simpler tasks you could have given him, yet it also gave him no clue as to what to expect. He didn't dare think about what might happen, fearing you were going to subvert his expectations anyway.

And subvert them you did.

"Open, Jeong."

Yunho's mouth hung agape as he looked at your hips, fully bare save for the leather harness secured around them. What stood out even more to him, though, and quite literally at that, was the silicone cock fastened to said harness.

"Come over here and get on your knees, if you'd be so kind."

Yunho was yet again frozen solid, unable to process what he was seeing. "I-I'm sorry, but have you gone absolutely insane?"

You chuckled at his incredulous tone, taking a step toward him. "Oh? I thought you just said you wanted to do this the easy way, what's with the attitude?"

"I don't know if you forgot who the fuck I am, L/N," Yunho gritted through his teeth, leaning forward to try and match your tone, "but you better snap out of this power trip right now or-"

"Or what?!" You finally snapped, startling the man back into his seat. "What are you going to do, Jeong? Lose your entire career because you were too proud to be under someone for once? Is that what matters to you the most?"

Yunho panted as he looked at you with nothing but disdain.

Letting out a sigh, you gestured back to your laptop, clicking over to the next tab in your browser. "Since you couldn't play nice, let me up the ante a bit. If you look over here, you can see a few emails that are ready to be sent at any minute. A lot of them, in fact. Wanna know who they're addressed to?"

He stayed silent, refusing to play your disgusting games.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you anyway," you grinned, scrolling down the list. "Here we have each of your family members, every single employee in your company, your 20 biggest competitors, journalists, workplace inspectors, and a few dozen more big contacts. With a single click, they'll all learn the truth within minutes, evidence included."

Yunho's face fell at the sight. "Y-Y/N, Miss Y/N, please..."

"Begging won't change my mind, Jeong," you spat, leaving the tab open as you walked back in front of him, "but actions just might."

Tears once again threatened to spill past his eyes, throat squeezing uncomfortably tight as he suppressed them. He couldn't cry. Not like this, not in front of you.

Swallowing back a whimper, Yunho slowly shuffled forward, all the way to the edge of the couch, before sinking down to the floor. You watched on with a satisfied smirk, lips curling even further up as his eyes met the fake cock in front of him again.

Oh god, he was really going to do this.

Trying to keep his hands as steady as possible, he reached for the strap-on, feeling it under his fingertips before wrapping a hand around the base. Angling the tip to his mouth, Yunho closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh before finally diving forward.

You stared at him in awe as his lips wrapped around the sizable tip, brows furrowing while he tried to push deeper. "There you go, good boy," you praised in a sickly sweet tone, resting one of your hands in his hair. His other hand that wasn't gripping the base of your cock fisted his skirt instead, likely trying to keep his gag reflex at bay while he sunk further down.

When his lips met his own fist, he let his throat rest for a bit, trying to breathe as best as he could despite the big piece of silicone in his mouth. After a few long, uncomfortable seconds, he decided to start moving again, giving a few experimental bobs with his head. On the fourth one, though, he audibly gagged, throat spasming while he quickly dove back up for air. You silently watched as he coughed and gasped for air, leaning to the side with his palms against the floor.

Once he got his breathing under control again, he looked up at you, meeting your gaze for the first time in a while. You smiled back down at him, a genuine smile this time, and used the opportunity to mouth a quick "All good?" to him. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he happily nodded back, calming any potential worries.

A quick tug at his hair was all it took for him to snap back into the scene.

"Did I say you could stop, Jeong? We haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

Just as Yunho began asking what you meant by that, he was shoved back onto the dildo, giving him no more than a second to prepare. You slid back into his mouth with ease, not too deep to make him choke, but deep enough to get his attention again. "Or do I have to show you another incentive to keep going?"

With a small grunt, Yunho shook his head as best as he could given his position and got back to work. He made sure you saw as he diligently sucked on the tip, swirling his tongue around it before pushing further down. If he had no choice but to do this, he might as well get it over with. Soon enough, he could almost take the whole thing in his mouth. You caressed his hair gently, a small show of praise that wouldn't break the scene too much.

The hand in his hair quickly turned more domineering, however, as you suddenly tightly clutched the strands, warning him of what was likely to come.

His prediction turned out to be spot-on as you began to pull him back up by his hair, only to push him back down again and start all over. Yunho could do nothing but let you move him as you wanted, desperately willing his lungs and throat to calm down so that he wouldn't choke again. Or too badly, at least.

Small, wet sounds filled the room as you moved him up and down on the strap-on, using both hands now to steady his head while you picked up the pace. A tear or two rolled down his cheeks this time, but you knew it was no reason to celebrate just yet. These were just a natural response to you fucking his throat, not a sign of you actually breaking him.

That would have to come later, it seemed.

"On the couch," you ordered curtly, pulling him off you at once. He was left hunched over, face bright red and lungs heaving for air.

Once your words finally registered for him, he willed his limbs to move again, crawling up on the couch. You wasted no time with him anymore, manhandling him into the desired position.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yunho's fight was faltering. His tightly clenched jaw had relaxed, giving way to the tired pants leaving his body. All snarky remarks and threats were long gone, his head too much of a muddy mess to come up with anything smart to say. You could feel it too, how much more pliant he'd grown under your touch, letting you press his upper half into the couch cushions.

When he heard the click of a bottle cap opening, some of that fight rushed back, only to leave just as quickly with a single reminder from you about what was at stake for him.

Yunho let out a quiet grunt as a finger breached him from behind, still hell-bent on hiding his reactions from you. He knew you'd revel in it, in every moan and beg and whimper, which is exactly why he could never give any of it to you. Until that dam broke, he could pretend he still had some dignity left.

"I advise you to relax as much as you can, Jeong," you spoke softly, burying your finger inside of him to the last knuckle before pulling back again, "otherwise this is going to hurt quite a bit."

"You're sick," Yunho spat back but quickly shut up again as you pressed in a second finger, causing a whine to almost push past his lips.

"So? What are you gonna do about it?" You asked back. The satisfaction within you only grew when he had nothing to say to that, too scared to admit the truth.

So far, Yunho was faring quite well. The biggest sign of this having even the slightest effect on him was how hard he was gripping the couch cushions, but that was about it. And it was exactly because of that that you began to grow bored.

Time to make him speak up.

Curling your fingers, you began angling your hand this way and that way, until-

"Fuck!" Yunho cried out, involuntarily clenching around your hand. You watched as his thighs quivered and his back arched, trying to simultaneously push back against you and fight the urge to do so at all costs.

"What was that?" You taunted, focusing on that specific spot you'd found while your other hand roamed along his hip. "Is someone starting to enjoy themselves? And here I thought I was the sick one?"

"Shut- ah! Shut the fuck up!" Yunho moaned out, eyes tightly shut as he tried to fight the onslaught of pleasure. He knew he couldn't help it, that it was just his body's natural reaction to being stimulated, and yet, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by it as well. He fought so hard to keep any and all noises at bay, only to then completely crumble without any say in the matter.

Then, without warning, your fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get up, to run far away from whatever the fuck this was, yet his mind knew very well it would be of no use. Not when your hand was back on his hip again, bringing his ass closer as you poured more lube over his hole.

"Hmm, no, this won't do," you thought out loud, looking at the way Yunho was presenting for you.

In the blink of an eye, he was flipped on his back, legs forced apart to accommodate you between them. Your strap was now peeking at him from behind his own half-hard cock, making his cheeks heat up. How was that thing bigger than he was? Moreover, what the hell were you planning to do with it?

"Say cheese!"

A bright light flashed into Yunho's eyes, making them squint in discomfort. When they managed to refocus, however, he was met with a sight somehow even more horrifying than all the evidence on your laptop.

A camera.

You were holding a camera and taking photos of him with it. Photos of him in a state like this.

"W-what are you- what?" Yunho stumbled out, voice laced with genuine horror.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Jeong?" You asked back, flipping his skirt up to show his prepped and needy hole. Another click and a flash of light.

The third snap finally managed to break him out of his trance, and his hand immediately shot up to grab your wrist.

"Ow! What the-" You hissed out in pain, almost dropping the camera to the ground. "That shit's expensive, you idiot!"

Yunho either didn't hear your words or simply ignored them, too busy trying to wrestle the camera from your hand. Doing sexual favors for you to save his business was one thing, he was already too deep in to stop that, but this? Oh, no, no no no, he was not going to just let you get even more dirt on him. Sure, he might have sold his body today to try and save his career, but he was NOT letting you trap him into a vicious cycle of blackmailing. He knew exactly how these things went, he knew you wouldn't be satisfied with just today, he knew you'd just keep demanding more and more from him and that-

A sharp sting dug into his cheek, the force of the slap turning his head to the side.

"I fucking told you to let go!"

The tight grip on your wrist eased up as you broke Yunho out of his spiral, preventing him from getting too deep into whatever inner chaos he tried to enter. His confused eyes met yours, studying your stern expression for a moment before he settled back into the scene, giving you a small nod as a sign to keep going.

"Before you try any of that shit again, I'll have you know that all of the photos I take on this are automatically backed up on my laptop. Breaking it does nothing except piss me off even further, and I don't think you want that, sweetheart."

Your hand slid up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks together.

"Now just accept your fate and let me take my pictures, hm? I don't think you want these to end up on the news tomorrow."

Yunho had no words left. No matter how his mind tried to twist this, there was no lie left that would convince him he had any sort of upper hand in this scenario. From the moment he walked into your office, his fate was sealed. Unlike everywhere else in his life, he didn't hold any power here. No amount of threats or intimidation could ever get him out of your grasp unless you yourself decided to let him go. He was yours to do with as you pleased.

All of those thoughts swirled around in his head as he lay under you, dressed like a girl, his entire body on display while you took as many photos as you wanted. He almost started to leave his body for a second, feeling too helpless to stay present in the moment any longer, but the feeling of cold, wet silicone pressing against him stopped him from doing so.

"Please..." Yunho said so quietly you almost didn't hear it, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"Please what, Jeong?"

Yunho took a deep breath but choked on it midway through as, finally, the first real tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Please don't do this, please."

Your pupils blew wide open at the sight before you, feeling a sudden high you'd never felt before. He - your boyfriend, the man everyone knew as a strong, independent, reliable guy, was now crying under you, lips trembling as he begged with a wobbly voice. Thanks to all the reassurances throughout the scene and the obvious hard-on between his legs, you didn't have to worry about his comfort or safety, letting you truly focus on the mental rush you were currently experiencing. The insane amount of trust between you felt almost palpable in that moment, an indescribable wave of tenderness so twisted yet so sweet it was almost overwhelming.

"Just let it happen, Jeong," you finally breathed out, eyes lidded as you reached down between the two of you. "Just let go and take it."

Yunho let out a watery whimper as you finally breached him with your strap, not caring to hide his noises anymore. He had nothing more to lose, after all.

The atmosphere shifted into something more quiet and subdued, yet simultaneously a thousand times more intense. Just like him, you had no more condescending comments and mean remarks left in you as everything had already been said.

Yunho was yours for the taking, and take you did.

With each snap of your hips, you pushed him further into that soft, pliant headspace of his. You could feel his muscles relax, going almost limp from the rush of it all. There was nothing in his head anymore, nothing but the physical sensations you were providing. More tears escaped his eyes as you leaned closer, hitting that sweet spot inside him with even more precision. Yunho rewarded each jab at his prostate with a small, punched-out noise, too hazy for anything more than that.

You watched his hips buck up when you wrapped your free hand around him, the other pulling him towards your thrusts by his hip. His breath hitched at the sensation, face scrunching up as you began to stroke up and down.

"Ready to cum, babe?" You whispered tenderly, causing him to open his eyes again.

"Yes, please," Yunho sniffled weakly, reaching up to grasp your shoulders for support.

Getting your sweet boyfriend over that imaginary edge took no more than two minutes after that, already too pent up from everything up until now to hold it any longer. You held him close as he seized up, chest arching into yours while he spilled into your hand.

You reached behind you for the tissue box on your side table, careful not to jostle Yunho around too much. He wrapped his legs around your waist, feeling too tender and small to let you go.

"Don't worry hun, I'm not going anywhere," you comforted him as you turned back around. You quickly wiped your dirty hand with one of the tissues before leaning forward and dabbing his tears away with another one. Handing him a third one, you helped him lift his head up to blow his nose before throwing all three tissues into a nearby bin.

As much as you wanted to debrief with him right then and there to make sure he really enjoyed himself, one look into his eyes assured you he was nowhere near ready for that right now. He looked content and comfortable, sure, but his eyes were still too distant for any complicated discussions and introspections.

So, you simply asked him what to do next.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit?" Yunho asked meekly, a small pout on his face as he extended his arms out for a hug. "We can clean up and talk after, but I just really need you right now."

You took him up on his offer with zero hesitation, snuggling into his embrace as close as you could. The position was a bit awkward from your position, given you were still lodged inside of him, but oh well.

A few minutes of curling up with your precious love bug never hurt anyone.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

[justadeadreaper]

okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...