#{if you guys want to know where I been it's here}
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drowninginblox · 2 days ago
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Thank you @possumtion for allowing me to make a drabble out of your work! You rock and keep up the amazingness!!
"Hey, furball?" Logan growled from the front passenger's seat. It was late. Really, really late when the X-Mansion had to be evacuated. Something something mansion’s rubble.
Everyone got out okay and you called a cousin to house all these displaced mutants, but after the hustle and bustle of everything that's happened in the last 7 hours... Yeah. You weren't surprised to see Kurt curled into himself. "Logan, he's out cold." You whisper through a smile. "We're thirty minutes away from the safe house," Logan warned before returning to the front window.
You take a moment to look at the passing terrain. All of you were bordering the Maine and the Canadian. To the point where the woods where to the two blurred served as a great hiding spot. The dark blues and blacks of night where lightening with the up coming dawn. Yet they couldn’t distract you from the masterpiece you’ve been sharing the backseat with. A small smile and contemptuous sigh ease you back into the comfort of knowing that he’s safe.
You've been pining for Kurt for a long time. Honestly, it's impressive. All the X-Men know outside of the object of your affection. And given your history with relationships, you were absolutely fine with that being the case.
Pinning has been your closest friend and that bitch is back to hold you through the feelings while your eyes lingered on him. The peaceful demeanor, the way his chest rose and fell in a subtle but smooth rhythm, even the reactions of his tail flicking between the crevice of his toes in response to his sweet dreams. If he even was dreaming... you hoped that he was. He deserved to dream.
Eventually, you broke away from him just to see the soft light of a… well… “Well look at what being a Potts can do for you…” Morph said a little too loud as they got closer to the property. You can only tap them as a way to get them to shut up. “One, by marriage. And Two, distant.” You gritted “Do not get used to this.” Logan chuckled lightly as he cracked open a window, allowing the soft crunch of the driveway to make itself known.
While he lit a cigar, you noticed Kurt stirring out of the corner of your eye. You leaned back in your seat as he slowly opened his tired eyes “Mmm…” he mumbled. You can only smile softly. As sad as you were to see his sleep interrupted, the sight before you was nothing less than adorable.
You watched as he stirred, eventually putting a hand on his knee and shake it a little “Hey,… hey Kurt… cmon… we’re here.” You say softly. His eyes slowly open while you move your hand away. “Hey hero. Cmon. We got room and board. No need to sleep in the car.” Morph snorts “Little bit of an understatement, huh Y/n?” You give Morph an even look from the mirror, making them raise their hands in defense as they park.
“Hey, hey- sor-ry!” You roll your eyes as you, Logan and Morph head out. Kurt meanwhile, takes his time to stretch. You do the same once you’re out, glancing over to Kurt through the still open door. “Hey Kurt, ya alright?” He only gives a heavy yawn, to which you chuckle “You want some help big guy?”
He shakes his head with another large yawn, showing off those fangs of his. You laugh again and close your door, making your way to his side of the car. Once you get there, you open his door to see his eyes still closed. “Cmon man,” he sighs “Y/n-“
“Don’t start with me Kurt. I will carry you.” He manages to partially open eyes “You would?” You nod. “Just cus I’m not an XMan anymore dosent mean I can’t pick ya up.” He smiles softly. “Ok okay… let me get out…” you offer your hand, to which he takes, guiding him out of the car. “Princess, jump up, or fireman?” You offer even though you already know the answer. He laughs “Is that even a question?” You smile and ready your arms.
His arms immediately wrap around your neck while you ready for his legs “One, two,…” he jumps and you hold his thighs with ease. “Okay spider monkey, let’s get ya to bed.” He only sighs against your chest as you walk inside.
Tony Stark’s house shouldn’t be as surprising to you by now. But every time you step into a different iteration, there’s always a new surprise. “Smaller kitchen… bigger living room… of course the wine cabinet is next to the flat screen…” you mumble as you take note of the accommodations. Kurt traces shapes into your back and arms as you do so, humming loosely to your notes “Ah… sorry Kurt. Don’t worry, just a quick trip up the stairs…” you mumble into his hair. “I gotcha. Just close those eyes.” You glance to see Morph covering their mouth while Logan glances knowingly. You send them a look, gaining a knowing smile from Morph and a shake of the head out of Logan before both turn away.
You lifted Kurt up a little more and cautiously made your way upstairs. Most of the guestrooms are on the lower level and all of which are filled, knowing your coworkers. You bypass Tony’s/Pepper's room, and head to the guestroom across from it. Peering inside allowed you to ensure that no one was in, entering as soon as the coast was clear. “ Okay, Kurt… we’re here, buddy.” You whisper “‘Time to get off the Y/n express.” You say with a chuckle. He matches it sleepily. “My hero…” he mumbled, loosening his hold on you when you carefully set him down. He hums and yawns at the mattress while you start to take your leave.
When he notices you leaving, he gets up “Mmm? Warte, hey- wohin gehst du? Where are you going?” You turn back. “Oh, uh… the couch. Or another guest room. Why?” He wakes up a little at that “Habe ich etwas falsch gemacht? Why would you?” He asks into the thick air. A blush creeps onto your face as his question stops everything. “What?” You whispered.
He pulls his legs up and sits on the edge of the bed “Y/n, you don’t have to leave…” you struggle to find your words, leaving a dense silence in the wake of his quiet offer. “Y/n, I trust you. I know we've never been in a situation like this before, and you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…” his tail disrupts the sheets on the bed from its gentle flicks back and forth. “Gott, das ist vielleicht egoistisch von mir, but I wouldn’t mind if you did. ” You hesitate but take a step away from the door. “Would this… is this platonic or…?”
Kurt’s eyes widened a little at that, processing the question in kind. Eventually, he holds the back of his neck and looks away “I- well Scheiße, … what would you want it to be?” You look down. You know you can be honest with him, always. Yet this is… “I don’t want to change anything,” he BAMFs to you, standing not even a foot away. “Y/n, nothing will change if you don’t want it to…” he assures as he takes a half step forward.
Now you’re only a few inches apart. It felt like every inch was just another painful reminder of the barrier you may be breaking. You can only hold yourself in your arms “Kurt…” you mumble “If you want what I want, then-“ “Then what Liebling? Tell me…” a hand ghosts and elbow. The room seems to get warmer.
“I-I want this, I do, but…” his gase faulters “Y/n… I-“ you swallow “Kurt… I don’t want this to be situational or… or fun… this is- I-“ you swallow your nerves and take a deep breath “It’s okay, It’s just me Y/n.”
“You say that like it’s supposed to assure me..” you chuckle while he smiles sheepishly. “We don’t have to talk about the implications or… whatever we want this to be if you don’t think you can. Or if you don't want to right now.” He hesitates but ends up holding your arm. “That can be for tomorrow. But if we do that, I need to say- that nothing. Truly, nothing will change if you don’t want it to. We could stay friends,” a hint of uncertainty laces his words “Or… we could be more… I-i would like that but,” you look up to him. “Yeah?” He moves his gaze from his arm to your eyes. “Yes… yes, I truly would. If you want to, of course. I swear Y/n, do not settle for me-“
“Wait wait- hold the fuck on, rewind?! What do you mean ‘settle for you?’” You say in a more normal tone, finally meeting his gaze. “If anything you would be settling for me!" His eyes widen "Wie bitte?" he breaths, but that doesn't stop you. "And do not say that I would be settling for you when you are the most attractive X-Man!" He takes a nervous step back "What?" Shock gives way to laughter as Kurt keeps his eyes on yours, seeing your genuineness not as delirium or a potential joke. Rather for what it is, the truth.
You smile and hold his cheek “Kurt, I’m not stupid. I know what beautiful is and I'd be lucky to have even five minutes with the most gorgeous man this side of the universe.” He chuckles as a light shade of violet peaks through his fur. “Well… then I think we should head to bed, Ja?” You can only kiss his cheek, making his face heat up more.
This was going to be the best night of his life.
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Sleepy 😴😴😴
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d-z20 · 1 day ago
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The Familiar's Return (NSFW)
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary: After a quiet night takes an unexpected turn, you find yourself drawn back into the orbit of two witches who once owned your soul. Your bond as their Familiar begins to pull tighter, reigniting flames you’d long buried. In the shadows of magic and desire, you must navigate old connections, simmering tension, and a power that refuses to let you go.
- OR -
You flirt with Alice to make Agatha and Rio jealous so they fuck you to put you back in your place
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, bratty reader, top agathario, magical restraints, smidge of begging, mention of orgasm denial, fingering (Reader recv)
Words: 3.7k
A/N: totally didn’t write reader flirting with Alice because I want to flirt with her. This was written for this request that's been sat in my inbox for a while oops
AO3 | Masterlist
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You’re lying on your bed, unwinding after a long, mundane day. A book in your hands, a mug of tea on the bedside table—just another ordinary evening. But then your eyelids grow heavy, and the pull of sleep becomes too much. You set the book down, curling into the warmth of your bed and closing your eyes for a moment...
The next thing you know, you’re waking up with a groan. You blink a few times, confusion clouding your mind. It’s dark, but the air feels different—charged somehow. You stretch and sit up, a little too quickly. That’s when you hear a voice above you.
"Uhhhh, guys, does the road usually have people just lying around sleeping?"
You blink again. The road? You glance around, confusion rising. This isn’t your room. You’re not even in your house. Instead, you’re on a strange dirt path, surrounded by towering trees that stretch endlessly in every direction, bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light.
You rub your eyes. That’s when you see her: Rio Vidal, one of your old owners.
She grins, flashing a wild, flirtatious smile. She’s clearly surprised, but there’s no hiding her amusement at seeing you again. “Well, well, look who decided to show up.”
The familiar tug at your soul confirms it: Agatha is here too. You don’t even need to see her to feel the connection. That bond... it’s been so long. You’d almost forgotten how strong it could be.
That must be how you ended up here. Their reunion summoning you to their side. Just when you thought you were free of their messes. Fucking brilliant.
Before you can finish that thought, a witch with red streaks in her hair walks over, frowning down at you.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing on the Witches’ Road?”
You freeze. The Witches’ Road? You knew it to be a con—something Agatha had fabricated to further her own power. But this place? It looks real. Too real. So what the hell are they doing here? And where exactly is here?
"Hey, answer the question!" The witch snaps, her tone sharper this time. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
You smirk up at her, unbothered. “Oh, just your average wanderer, looking for a bit of fun.” You stand up, brushing yourself off and raising an eyebrow at the confused faces around you. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Familiar extraordinaire, at your service.” You bow, bringing her hand to your lips for a playful kiss. “I was Agatha’s and Rio’s little pet back in the day.”
The witch blushes at your gesture, and the rest of the coven stares at you, unsure how to respond. But before anyone can say anything, Agatha’s voice cuts through the awkward silence.
“Alice, sit back down,” she orders, before her attention shifts to you. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”
You meet her gaze, a cocky grin spreading across your face. “Guess I got summoned by your delightful company,” you say, glancing at Rio. “Seems like the connection still works, even after all this time.”
You cock your head to the side, glancing around at the others. "Well, this is... interesting. Always thought the Witches’ Road was a little too good to be real, right, Agatha?" You wink at her, and Rio laughs from beside Agatha, clearly entertained by your antics.
"Oh, this is definitely real," Rio says with a smirk. "Good to see you haven’t changed."
You flash a wicked grin. "Oh, you have no idea just how much I’ve changed, darling." The words hang heavy with implication. Before, you’d followed them around like a loyal, obedient plaything. Not anymore. Tonight, you were going to have some fun with them.
As the others chat, you notice Alice still watching you. Her gaze is intense; curiosity piqued.
You sit next to her, leaning back and crossing your arms to flex your muscles. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by you, Alice. What's your story? I’ve always had a soft spot for women with a bit of edge.”
Alice blushes again, trying to maintain composure.
Rio laughs, clearly enjoying the way you’re provoking Agatha. She plays along, her voice laced with amusement. “You are exactly their type, Alice,” she says with a wink.
Agatha glares at you from across the fire, but there’s something more in her eyes—a flicker of jealousy she can’t hide. It’s that same old dance, and you’ve missed it. You love pushing her buttons, even when she tries to act indifferent.
Alice clears her throat, breaking the tension. She eyes the symbol on your arm, her voice dipping into something more serious. “That mark... what is it? Some sort of spell?” She lifts her sleeve to reveal a small tattoo. “My mother made me get this. Protection, she said.”
You glance at her arm, then back to her face, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Protection, huh? That’s cute.”
You lean in just a little, your fingers tracing lightly over her tattoo. “But no, my mark isn’t a spell. It’s the sign of a familiar. A scar that binds your soul to another.”
You let the words sink in, your fingers lingering a moment too long on her skin. Alice shivers slightly, caught off guard by your touch, her breath hitching. You enjoy the effect you’re having on her, the flush on her face making it all the more satisfying.
“So,” you ask teasingly, “do all you witches have a little family tradition of getting tattoos, or is that just an Alice thing?”
Alice laughs nervously, trying to hide her growing discomfort, but you can see the tension building. She’s trying so hard to stay in control, but you’re making it harder and harder to resist.
The rest of the coven continues chatting, but you remain focused on Alice, your body language making your intentions clear. You lean in closer, your touch deliberate, your words sweet but laced with something far less innocent.
You glance over at Agatha and Rio, seeing jealousy on both of their faces now. You knew flirting with someone else would get a rise out of them. Agatha’s eyes narrow, while Rio hides her irritation behind a smirk.
But Agatha’s had enough. She stands abruptly, her voice laced with fury. “Alright, pet,” she says, her tone unmistakably warning. “We need to have a word.”
You stand, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Oh, do we now? I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a ‘word.’”
Before you can protest further, Rio grabs your arm, pulling you away from the fire and into the shadows, out of the coven’s sight.
“I guess duty calls,” you tease, glancing back at the others as Rio pulls you further into the dark.
Once you’re out of sight, Agatha steps forward, her eyes smouldering with frustration. “You’ve been all over her since you got here,” she growls, her voice thick with something possessive. “Have you forgotten you belong to us?”
You pull back, laughing lightly. “Oh, really? You think I’m just going to roll over and—”
Before you can finish, Rio’s lips crash against yours—hard and demanding. Agatha follows suit, her kiss searing as she pulls you between them. The bond crackles to life around you, familiar and undeniable. Oh, how you’ve missed this.
You give in for a moment, allowing yourself to be swept up in the intensity. But then, with a mischievous smirk, you pull away. “As much as I’m enjoying this,” you say, breathless, “I’d rather be doing it with Alice.” You turn on your heel, leaving them standing in stunned silence. It was a lie, of course. Another taunt to see how far you can push them before they make you submit.
Agatha calls after you, fury and desire mixing in her voice. “You can’t just walk away from us.”
You roll your eyes, halting mid-step and turning to face them. “Oh, am I supposed to beg for your attention, Agatha? Like the good old days?”
Rio steps in, her playful side still evident as she pulls you closer. “We’re giving you the option to do it willing; we could just make you. You’re still our familiar, after all.”
pleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakemepleasemakeme
You lean back, eyes glittering with defiance. "I’m not begging for anything from either of you." At least not yet. You turn and walk back to the fire.
As you sit, you flick your wrist, conjuring up a spread of food and drink. The coven watches in awe, unsure how to process your sudden display of magic.
You smirk, explaining with a sly grin, “Being a familiar means I can do things other witches can’t. Just a perk of the job.”
The coven, unsure whether to be impressed or confused, starts reaching for drinks and food, the alcohol loosening them up. Soon, laughter fills the air, and their earlier wariness is forgotten.
You continue to flirt with Alice, enjoying every blush you pull from her, knowing you’ll face the consequences later.
By the time the fire burns low and the coven is scattered around in various states of drunken stupor, you’re left with Agatha and Rio—both simmering with desire, their eyes locked on you.
"Okay, you’ve had your fun," Rio murmurs, voice thick with something darker. "But now, it’s our turn."
Agatha steps closer, her lips curling into a sly smirk as she tilts her head, eyes dark with challenge. "Still think you’re in control, pet?" she purrs, her voice low and full of authority. 
Before you can retort, Rio sidesteps you, her presence a heat against your back. Her fingers trail along your shoulders, her touch feather-light, but there’s no mistaking the strength behind it. Her voice, husky and teasing, whispers close to your ear. "Oh, love, you don’t seem to understand. This is our game, and you don’t get to change the rules."
You scoff, trying to summon some of that bravado from earlier.
But before you can say anything, Rio’s magic snaps into place. Vines, glowing faintly with her energy, erupt from the earth, curling around your ankles and locking you in place. You glance down, startled, but the roots are unyielding, pulsing with her power. You tug once, then twice, and realise you’re trapped.
Agatha moves to stand in front of you, her piercing gaze meeting yours. She doesn’t touch you, but the weight of her presence alone has your pulse quickening. "Not so bold now, are we?" she says, her tone mocking, but there’s an undeniable heat behind her words.
Rio leans against you from behind, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as her hands rest on your hips, holding you firmly. "Don’t worry," she murmurs, her voice almost soothing if not for the edge of danger. "We’ll remind you where you belong."
To your shock, they don’t focus on you. Instead, Agatha steps into Rio’s space, their lips meeting in a slow, deliberate kiss, filled with hunger and command. It’s magnetic, their power crackling in the air, and you feel your body react against your will, heat flooding to your core, and you squeeze your legs together.
"Enjoying the view?" Agatha asks, her voice dripping with amusement as she pulls back just enough to smirk at you.
While your time apart means they’ve lost the ability to peer into your mind, they can still pick up on your feelings, especially when they’re this strong.
You glare, trying to fight the growing heat pooling in your core, but your voice betrays you. "Is that all you’ve got?" you challenge, though your voice wavers slightly.
Rio chuckles, a rich, sultry sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Still so defiant. Let’s see how long that lasts." With a small twitch of her finger, the vines force your legs apart, removing what little relief you had given yourself.
Agatha leans in again, her kiss with Rio deepening, more passionate now, as if daring you to watch, to feel your own irrelevance in the moment. You bite your lip, fighting the whimper, threatening to escape as you struggle against the vines keeping you rooted.
And then, Rio’s magic flares again. The roots tighten, pulling you slightly forward, locking you in place with perfect precision to watch them. Your arms tingle with the same sensation, her magic wrapping around your wrists as if sensing you might lash out.
Agatha glances back at you, her eyes alight with mischief. "What’s the matter, love? Jealous?" She tilts her head mockingly. "You didn’t seem to want our attention before, did you? Now you’re going to beg for it."
You feel a flush of frustration mixed with undeniable arousal. "I don’t beg," you snap, though the words lack conviction.
Rio arches an eyebrow, turning just enough to glance at you. "Oh, you will." Her voice is a promise, smooth and unrelenting. She leans back into Agatha, her hands trailing along the other witch’s waist, pulling her closer. Suddenly your legs feel cold and you look down to see your pants have vanished. There’s a vine snaking its way up your leg and between your thighs. It starts to stroke up and down your crotch, and you buck your hips trying to get more pressure. You thought you’d gained at least a scrap of dignity after all those years apart, yet here you are grinding down on a fucking plant, making it impossibly wet from your arousal, just because they’re making out in front of you.
Their kisses grow hungrier, more deliberate, and every movement feels calculated to remind you of your place. The tension in the air is suffocating, their bond radiating power and control. You watch as Agatha’s nails rake lightly down Rio’s back, eliciting a small gasp from the witch.
You tug harder at the magical restraints, a desperate sound bubbling in your throat despite your pride. Your body betrays you, heat pooling in every nerve as the intensity of their connection pulls at something deep within you.
Agatha turns to you again, her lips swollen from Rio’s kisses, her smirk sharper than ever. "Say it," she commands simply, her voice firm but not unkind.
You shake your head stubbornly, your pride warring with the growing need inside you. "Not a chance," you manage, though your voice is barely a whisper.
Rio chuckles again, her magic tightening the restraints around you just enough to keep you aware of how completely at their mercy you are. She presses a kiss to Agatha’s neck, murmuring something you can’t quite hear but feel in the air—a promise, a plan.
They turn to you together now, their combined presence overwhelming. Agatha steps closer, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. "You’re trembling," she observes, her tone teasing. Her fingers trail down your jaw, leaving a tingling heat in their wake. "You can end this, you know. All you have to do is beg."
You bite your lip, your pride a fragile shield against their dominance. "I don’t—"
Rio cuts you off, her magic surging, pulling you taut against the vines. "Try again," she says softly, but the threat in her tone is clear.
Agatha’s lips brush against your ear, her breath warm and sending shivers down your spine. "Say it, pet. Or maybe we’ll just leave you here to simmer while we enjoy each other properly."
The thought sends a sharp pang through you; the idea of being left out, of missing their touch, their power, their presence, is more unbearable than you want to admit. Your resolve crumbles just slightly, enough for your voice to tremble as you whisper, "Please..."
Agatha’s eyes light up, her smirk widening as she leans back to survey you. "Not good enough," she chides.
Rio steps in, her hands on your shoulders now, grounding you. "Louder, love," she purrs. "We want to hear it."
Your pride shatters under their combined weight, and you finally let the words tumble from your lips. "Please, Agatha... Rio... I—" You swallow hard, your voice cracking with a mixture of need and surrender. "I need you. Please."
Rio lets the magical restraints fall away, disappearing into the ground, and Agatha’s lips come crashing down on yours. The kiss is fierce, hungry—more than just a reclaiming, it's a possession. You feel your mark burn with desire, the familiar sting that always came with them, only this time it’s more intense, more urgent. They embrace you fully now, and you melt into the sensation, every inch of you on fire, every breath shared between the three of you.
Rio’s hands are everywhere, teasing, possessive, pulling you tighter against her. She presses you into Agatha’s chest, feeling the magic thrumming in your veins, making every part of you ache for more. Agatha’s fingers tangle in your hair, tilting your head back, allowing Rio to trail kisses down your throat, her teeth grazing your skin, setting your nerves ablaze. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming—your resistance dissolving entirely under their combined touch.
The moment Rio pushes a finger inside you, you feel your walls tighten immediately. A benefit of being their familiar was how easily they could make you cum; the downside was it also meant they were the only people who could make you cum, so in all your decades apart, you haven’t been able to climax even once. Talk about orgasm denial.
They can feel your desire, the way your body trembles in anticipation, and they’re more than happy to give you exactly what you need. Rio, her eyes burning with possessive hunger, inserts another finger, pressing her palm firmly against your clit. Her fingers flex, teasing, sending waves of heat through you as they start to move, driving you crazy with the slow, deliberate pressure. Every touch from her feels like an electrifying promise, like the world is collapsing into the space between you. You can barely focus, drowning in the sensation as she doesn’t stop, guiding you into a rhythm that has you gasping for more.
Meanwhile, Agatha is relentless. Her lips find yours again, but this time it’s different—her kiss is sharper, more urgent. She bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting, but it’s the kind of pain you crave, the kind of roughness that always ignites something dark and hungry within you. You gasp, the sensation intensifying as she takes advantage of your breathless moment. Her teeth graze your lip one more time, a reminder that she holds the power in this dance.
Before you can process, she pushes her tongue into your mouth, deep and possessive. The kiss becomes an exploration, a claim, as Agatha takes what she wants, making sure you feel every movement, every shift of her body against yours. You kiss her back hungrily, matching her intensity, responding to the pull of her control. It’s familiar—this frantic need to give in, to let go, to surrender. And yet, it feels different this time—there’s no escape, no hesitation, only the heat of their presence enveloping you, pulling you further under their spell.
Your breath hitches as Rio shifts her focus, pressing harder into you, moving with purpose, her touch as commanding as Agatha’s kiss. It’s a beautiful chaos—the push and pull of their desire, the control they hold over you. You can’t tell where one touch ends and the other begins, everything blending together into one overwhelming sensation that leaves you gasping for air, for more.
"That's it," Agatha murmurs against your lips, her voice low and throaty. "You’ll always be ours, and ours alone."
The words sink deep, pushing you past the breaking point. You finally let go completely, surrendering to the tidal wave of sensation. Your entire body tenses, every nerve lit up with a white-hot intensity as you reach your peak. It’s as if time itself halts in reverence of the moment, and all you can feel is them—their hands, their lips, their presence anchoring you even as they unravel you. It’s overwhelming, raw, and impossible to contain. Your breath catches, breaking into a shuddering gasp as your orgasm consumes you, leaving you trembling in their hold.
The aftermath is a blur of warmth and relief, your body melting against theirs as the world slowly rights itself. Still high on the ecstasy of your climax, clarity seeps in through the haze. For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself think about how much you’ve missed them—not just their touch, but them, the soul-deep connection that once defined your bond. The longing you’d buried, the emptiness you’d ignored, rushes to the surface, overwhelming in its magnitude.
Agatha’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and familiar, sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve missed you too.”
You blink, startled, because her lips haven’t moved. The realisation strikes you like a spark catching flame—they’re in your mind again. The bond has fully reignited, glowing brighter than ever, their thoughts brushing against yours like the softest caress.
A grin tugs at your lips, even as a lump forms in your throat. For so long, you’ve felt stretched too thin, as though your soul had grown just a little too large, leaving a space that nothing else could fill. You hadn’t realised just how incomplete you’d been until now, until this. With them.
For the first time in what feels like forever, the missing pieces are back in place. The weight of their presence settles over you, grounding and comforting, like the steady pulse of a heartbeat you’d forgotten you needed. You close your eyes and lean into them, basking in the completeness of it, a smile playing at your lips as the warmth of their bond wraps around you.
Rio chuckles softly, her fingers brushing through your hair. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
You nod, not trusting your voice. There’s no need to say anything. They already know, as deeply and completely as you do. Whatever comes next, you’re no longer alone—and that, more than anything, is what you’ve missed the most.
-----
I know you didn't ask for the soft finish but I'm an absolute sucker for a happy ending
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nickynclark · 2 days ago
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The Psychology of Love and Loathing
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Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Enemies to lovers! 
Word count: 7,584
Warnings: no use of y/n, reader goes by 'bunny', discussion of a case (nothing too far from usual Criminal Minds gore), reader has three PhD's (bet you didn't know that), briefly mentions readers mother committing su!cide, mentions of toxic parents, alcohol consumption, jealous! Reader, jealous! Reid, pet names (good girl, silly girl, baby, sweetheart, sweet thing), degradation, oral f! Receiving, like one line of oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls wrap it before you tap it), no mention of reader being on birth control, anal play, overstimulation, after care. If i missed anything let me know!
Author’s note: i’m so sorry im ovulating. This is porn w a shit ton of plot. We’re talkin WORLD BUILDING
MDNI BELOW THE CUT
You blink at the papers in front of you, checking once, twice, double checking three times to make sure what you're seeing is correct. 
You were on a case in Texas, called in by local police after four bodies, two wealthy couples, were found shot execution-style and posed on different park benches throughout Amarillo. While at first, it seemed as though it was your average serial killer, the autopsy report showed that the gunshot wound was done post-mortem- all four victims were murdered by being forced to drink household bleach. 
You looked down at the papers one more time, noticing that one man, Adam Gilman, cleaned houses of the wealthy, and he purchased a lot of bleach. Way more than needed to clean a few bathrooms. 
You quickly dial Garcia, and she answers within the first ring. 
"Ask and you shall receive." 
"Garcia, what can you find out about Adam Gilman?"
You hear typing from the other end of the line before spewing information, "35-year-old white male, he grew up super rich until his dad pulled his college funding his senior year when his sister went to school to be a doctor. He started paying for her," She suddenly sucked in a breath, "It looks like he had to drop out. He was at Harvard Law. Spiraled downhill from there, sending you the files and address now." 
"Thanks, Garcia!" 
You rush into the room where the rest of the team is and run up to Hotch. 
"Look at this! He fits the profile to a t!" 
Hotch looks down at his tablet, and you feel eyes glance over to you, about to speak, but Spencer Reid bursts through the doors. 
"Guys our unsub is Adam Gilman! He lives five minutes from here, and his job is on the way." 
Hotch nods at you, acknowledging that you have the same information but Reid said it louder, "Let's go." 
Since you joined the Bureau last year, Spencer Reid has been competing with you. Whereas he was thirty-three with three PhDs, you were twenty-five with the same amount. Of course, he got his when he was much younger, but he still seemed to overcompensate. 
He was intimidated by you. 
This wasn't the first time a situation like this had happened. It's almost like he had a radar for when you made a big break, and he wanted to steal the spotlight. 
And not to mention he hates you for some reason. 
Ever since your first week in the BAU, Dr. Reid has acted indifferent to you. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but you have done nothing to deserve this cold shoulder. 
On your first day, you strutted into the office dressed in a pair of black slacks, a black, v-neck blouse, and some hot pink pumps; being honest, you looked like you owned the place. 
When Aaron introduced you to the team, you shook everyone's hand except Reid's. 
"The number of pathogens passed through a handshake is staggering," he stated mater-of-factly while staring at your hand, "it's actually safer to kiss." 
You laugh and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, "Although I appreciate the concern, a handshake is actually a sign of peaceful intentions. Soldiers would cover their swords on their left side and shake their right hand to show they mean no harm," you shrug, "but I understand the mysophobia." 
He nodded at you, a glare suddenly hardening his features, "interesting." 
He has refused to hold conversation with you, maintain eye contact with you, or be in the same room with you for an extended amount of time ever since. 
He hates it the most when you're right. 
After arresting Adam, the team desperately needed to interrogate him. He was denying all claims despite all the evidence against him. In fact, all he has said has been denials. Besides that, he didn't speak. He hadn't asked for a lawyer, hadn't shown any recognition to the couples, and hadn't said anything besides I've never seen those people before.
"We need to make him uncomfortable," Morgan says, "he's running this whole show. We gotta flip the tide." 
Emily looks up from her Chinese takeout, laughing, "Let's throw Bun and Reid in there." 
Your eyes widen, and you are suddenly incredibly red. Your face is on fire, and you start looking around panicked. 
The team started referring to you as 'Bun' over the summer when you all went to a bar together. You accidentally had one too many drinks, and Derek said you were bouncing up and down the whole time. 
"She's like a Bunny." 
"Don't call me a Bunny!" You slur, "I'm mean. And vicious." 
Penelope laughs at you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Alright, Bun. Let's go dance!" 
Ever since that night, the nickname 'bun' stuck. 
Although Emily suggested you and Reid distracting Adam as a joke, Rossi's lips pull into a smile, "That just might work." 
Emily sets her food down, suddenly aware that she presented the first good idea so far, "we could dress them up some, make them look like a wealthy couple, and have them ask Adam some questions. It might make him mad enough to break." 
Aaron looks at you and you gulp subtly, then he looks to Reid, "It's up to you." 
You look at your feet, frowning, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this guy in jail." 
Reid simply nods. 
"Okay," Aaron says, "we'll go get the stuff." 
You and Spencer remain in the small room while the others rush out to get the things you require for your transformation. 
"Hi." Your voice comes out quiet. 
"Hello." He responds blandly. 
You suddenly realize this is the first time you and Reid have been in a room alone together, so you take the opportunity. 
"What have I done to you?" 
Reid's eyebrows shoot up at the confrontation "Huh?" 
You roll your eyes, "ever since my first day you've avoided me. What did I do?" 
He scoffs, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 
"Sure you don't." You sigh and run a hand through your hair, "I'm the only person on the team you practically refuse to talk to." 
"I'm talking to you right now," he says as if that's a counterargument, "I talk to you all the time." 
"Yeah, when you're forced to!" You say exasperatedly, "You know everyone on the team's birthdays, all except mine. You know their family situation because you've asked." 
He shrugs, "I know plenty about you."
"How old am I?" 
He looks into your eyes calmly, "You're twenty-eight." 
"I'm twenty-five." 
Emily suddenly bursts into the room, "There isn't anything for you guys in lost and found. You have to go on a shopping trip. Strauss said a 300 dollar limit." 
You nod, "I assume that's just for clothes?" 
"Yes," She answers, "Reid is going to wear Rossi's watch and a wedding band JJ's going to pick up. Both of you will wear a ring." She then looks to you, "We have a lot of jewelry for you to pick through." 
You nod, standing and Reid rises next to you. 
Emily tosses you some keys, "be back in an hour." 
***
The ride to the mall was quiet. You didn't bother talking to Spencer as you drove, and he didn't bother speaking to you. 
He also kept turning down the radio when you tried to turn it up. It was painfully awkward. 
Once at the mall, you and Reid split up incredibly fast. 
He ran to some men's warehouse, and you rushed to the women's section of a department store. 
You quickly pick up a pair of black pinstriped slacks that hug your curves and a tight, white blouse. You finally grab a black, pinstriped blazer, and you head to check out. 
On your way, though, a pair of stunning, emerald heels grabs your attention. 
You walk closer to study them, and god do they look lavish. 
If you weren't here for work, you would grab them in a heartbeat, but you were, and you had already met your price cap. 
"Buy them." 
You hear Spencer's voice from behind you, and you jump, grabbing your chest in fright.
"What?" 
"Get them," he shrugs, "it's obvious you want to." 
You laugh shyly, and he stuffs his hands into his jean pockets, his bag of clothes hanging around his wrist. 
"I've already met my limit." 
"Okay?"
You frown, studying him. He looks calm and relaxed. You tilt your head slightly, and he matches your movement. 
No, that can't be right. 
You cross your arms in a silent stare down, and he does, too. 
"You're mimicking me." 
He scoffs, "God, Bun, not everything I do is to spite you!" 
Your eyes widen and you suddenly point at him, "You!"
"What?" 
"You just called me Bun!" 
His eyes barely widen, but he catches himself, staring straight ahead. 
His foot stops tapping, "you're hearing things." 
"And that's your tell!" You point at his foot, "You just mimicked me, called me 'Bun', and then lied about it!" 
He rolls his eyes, "what size are you?" 
"You're avoiding the question!" 
"You didn't ask a question." He gestures to the heels, "What size?" 
"Why?" 
"Answer the question, Bunny." 
His tone is stern, and you freeze under his stare. 
"Nine." 
He nods and grabs a box in that size. 
"No!" You protest, "Don't!"
"I still had a hundred bucks left over, it's on the company's card." 
You blink twice, confused as to why he's being so nice to you. 
"Okay. I need to pay and I'm done." 
He nods to you, and you both check out. He hands you the heels and you let out a quiet thanks while headed to the car.
***
When you got back to the station, the turnaround was dizzying. 
You were shoved into a room to change, as was Reid. 
After you changed, JJ came in and whistled. 
"Sheesh, Bun, you look good!" 
You laugh and straighten out your jacket, slipping on the heels Spencer bought you today. 
"Are those new?"
You nod, "yeah, Spencer said he had some left in his budget." 
She shook her head, "Reid must've bought those with his own money." 
Your eyes widen, and she laughs, "C'mon, Bun. You need to look at jewelry." 
You picked out a pair of dainty, diamond earrings, a matching necklace, and several expensive bracelets that had to be physically screwed onto your wrists. 
Once standing in front of Hotch, Emily gave you the wedding bands JJ had picked up. 
Yours was a gorgeous gold band with an emerald-cut diamond on top. It was simple, but, God, was it stunning. 
You slipped it onto your finger and Reid slipped the simple golden band over his, his hands looking all that much better with the ring on it. It makes your mouth water just thinking about his fingers.
You quickly shake your head. No. You hate Spencer Reid. Nothing will change that. 
Hotch gives you and Reid strict instructions on how to talk to Adam, and then he's sending you in. 
"Sell it," Aaron says, "this might be our only shot." 
You give him a curt nod, linking your arm with Reid and smiling as you walk into the interrogation room. 
Spencer looks down at you with a look of passion you've never seen before. One that you aren't convinced could be fake. 
As soon as you looked at Adam, you could tell there was something off. He was picking at the skin around his nails and chewing on the skin of his lips where they looked raw and painful. 
As you sat down in front of him, Spencer was the first to speak. 
"Who is this guy again, babe?" 
You held back the shock in your face at the pet name as he put a hand on your thigh. You made a point to twist the wedding ring on your finger before opening the files in front of you. 
"Adam?" You look up at the man in front of you, "are you Adam?" He nods, and you hum, "Who are you, exactly?" 
Reid smiles and looks to you, "Play nice." He slides the files over to him, "Harvard law, that's impressive. Did you apply or did your father buy your way in?"
Adam's eyes narrowed, "I applied and got accepted. I was a prodigy." 
You smile subtly, knowing you and Reid have already gotten him to show more of himself than he had to anyone else. 
You look at your fake husband and laugh, "I don't think you can decide that you're a prodigy." You look Adam up and down, "my husband, here," you place your hand on Spencer's shoulder, looking at him as if he hung the moon and stars, "he is a prodigy. How old were you when you got your first PhD?"
"Seventeen," he laughed humbly, looking at you, "you flatter me." 
You smile softly as Reid squeezes your thigh, something Adam could not see and, therefore, was unnecessary. You look at Spencer, but he refuses to meet your eyes. 
You turn back to Adam, pulling out the photos of the four bodies and showing them to him, "have you met these people before?" 
He shakes his head, "I've never seen those people before." 
"Really?" You ask calmly, "You've never, ever, seen Andrea Haskins?" 
Adam shakes his head. 
"Never, not once, seen her husband, Kent Haskins, either?" 
He shakes his head again. 
Reid sits up straighter, linking his hands together on the table in front of him, "you received a pretty generous amount of money from him every month since... August?" 
You mentally thank Garcia for that information, and mentally thank Reid for remembering it. 
Adam sits up straight, too, but falling shorter than Reid, "I clean their house for them, don't mean I've ever met 'em." 
You hum, "I wouldn't let a stranger into our home, would you?" 
Reid shakes his head, and Adam gets visibly upset at your interactions. His hands clench to the table ledge, knees bouncing, eyes narrowed. 
"Say, Adam," you perk up, "how much bleach do you use per house you clean, about?" 
Adam's eyes trained on me, "you're a smart girl," he then looked to Reid, "with an even smarter husband." He spits the words as if they are poison on his tongue, "You do the math." 
You stand, smiling softly, "So, not 10 gallons per week?" 
Adam shrugs, "If that's your calculation." 
You walk closer to the man, sitting on the table next to him and leaning down to him, "And I assume you also have never met the Coleman's?"
He shakes his head. 
"Never met anyone in the Coleman family?" 
"No. God, you people suck at your job."
"That's actually interesting considering we have video footage of your picking up Lacey Coleman from school last Monday. A family doesn't let a stranger house cleaner pick up their child from school." 
Adam's eyes widen, and you know you have him cornered. 
"How long had your sister been friends with the Colemans?" Reid interjects. 
"Don't you dare talk about her." 
"Why not?" Reid asks simply, "Does she bother you?" 
"I was going to be a Lawyer, I was going to be successful and make my dad proud of me. Until she ruined it all with her perfect schooling and perfect husband," Adam spits.
"Halley is a pretty successful neurosurgeon, huh? She gets all of daddy's special attention, doesn't she?" You say.
"Get your wife on a leash," Adam says to Reid. 
"All you wanted was to feel loved, to hear your dad say he's proud of you," you keep talking, "and you were going to kill him because he wouldn't say it." 
"Shut the hell up, bitch!" 
"You were getting ready to kill your mom and dad because, hey, why not go straight to the source? Why not kill who made you like this?" 
"What if your family pulled your funds for a sibling, huh?" He yells to you and Reid, "How would you feel?" 
The room goes silent and Reid allows you to keep talking, keep getting on his nerves. 
"His daddy left him when his mom got sick, and my mommy killed herself when I was seven. We worked for our degrees, and we worked even harder for the scholarships that paid for our three PhDs." You hiss, "I would've worked harder to get what I want instead of just expecting it." 
"You're a bitch," Adam spit in my face. 
"I could be worse. I could take away a little girl's family. I could kill four innocent people out of my frustration and failure." 
Reid finally stepped in, grabbing your hand softly and pulling you back to your side of the table. 
"I didn't kill those people." 
"That's not what your body is telling us, Adam." Reid states simply, "You are hurt and still are hurting, I understand that. But now so is Lacey. That's on you." 
Adam's lip quivers, "I didn't hurt Lacey! Lacey was at her friend's house!" 
Reid rises, grabs your hand gently, and walks to the door, and you follow.
"Hey!" Adam screams, "where are you going? Get back here!" 
As soon as the door shuts behind you, you let go of Reid's hand. He turns to you and watches your expression shift. 
"Good work, Bun." 
You nod, and he looks like he's about to say something else, mouth opening, but then Hotchner walks in. 
"Great work.” 
You smile at Aaron, and Reid stares at you with something dark behind his eyes. He looks nervous, and hungry, and concerned, and certain. 
"We'll be heading back in 30. Wrap up. Great job, Doctors." 
***
On the plane, you and Reid are still in your "Rich Couple" personas, not having enough time to change out. 
You sit near the back of the plane, headphones in, and reading Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience by William Blake. 
"Little Lamb who made thee, Dost though know who made thee?" 
You hear the words of "The Lamb" spoken, causing you to take out your headphones and look to the source: Spencer Reid. 
He sits across from you as you ask, "You read Blake?" 
"Blake to Poe to Plath, I don't mind." 
You narrow your eyes at him, "what do you want?"
"Really?" He asks, "We can't just have a nice moment?" 
You raise your eyebrows at him, "Not you and me. We don't have nice moments."
His facial features soften, and he sighs, "I'm sorry for acting so harsh toward you. You didn't deserve that." 
You're shocked by his statement, "Pardon me?"
He runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I was scared, Bun. I was the smart one. I convinced myself that was all I could be," his breath hitches and his eyes connect with mine, "I thought if there was someone smarter, more sociable, and nicer than me, they wouldn't need me anymore." 
"Spence..." you start, and you realize it's the first time you've called him his nickname. 
He notices it, too, eyes shifting from one of concern to one of understanding, "You're incredibly smart. You're kind, and you're fun to be around. I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."
You nodded, "thank you." 
He nods and goes to stand.
"Wait." You quickly speak up and he freezes, "What's... um..." you stutter, "what's your favorite Poe?" 
Reid smiles, sitting back down, "Annabel Lee." 
You smile, "Gold-Bug."
He laughs, "Really?" 
And you nod. 
**** 
"Let's go get drinks!" Garcia announces as you and the team wrap up your paperwork, and you laugh. 
"I don't think so," you smile, "not tonight." 
"C'mon, Bun," Garcia whines "It'll be fun!"
Reid suddenly looked at you, eyes darker, eyes that held you tight in a grip, "Yeah, c'mon, Bun." He says the name with a sensuality you had never heard before. It sent a shiver down your spine, "it'll be fun." 
You look at him, taking in a shaky breath, "I.. uh, don't have a ride." 
"I'll drive you," Reid says simply, and the rest of the team just stares at the interaction. 
Things have changed since the interrogation room, you know that, but did you want to be alone with him already? 
You look at him, his messy hair, his stubble, and chocolate brown eyes, and your pussy clenches around nothing. 
You find yourself nodding, mouth too dry to speak.
"Good," he smiles, "follow me."
Your team watches with uncertainty as you walk off with Spencer, and it's almost like they've seen the change, too. 
No, they're profilers. They know Reid had you wrapped around his finger while reciting Blake. 
They also knew Spencer had been pining after you since you wore those hot pink heels on the first day of work. But they didn't need to tell you that. 
Reid guides you to the elevator, and you comply silently. Once the door closes and it's just you two, you turn to Spencer.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He responds simply.
You turn to face him, "why are you being so nice to me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bun." 
You roll your eyes, "yeah right." 
The elevator doors open, and he walks you to his car, opening the door for you.
"Thank you," you smile cautiously, and he nods. 
He sits down in the driver's seat and pulls out of his parking spot. One of his hands rests on the wheel, the other placed on the gearshift. His eyes focus on the road, but they occasionally slide over to you. The silence- although comfortable- practically kills you.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" 
He glances over at you, and he smirks, "I want to." 
You look at him, "why?"
He shrugs, "spent too long not doing it." 
You nod and glance out the window, just as Spencer puts the car in park. 
As you step out of the car, you hear Derek and Emily from behind you, making a show of letting you know they are also here. 
You walked over to Morgan and hugged him.
"Hey, Bunny," he smiles and kisses your forehead, "first rounds on me tonight, sweetheart." 
You laugh, "thank god! Need a handsome man to buy me some drinks!"
Reid scoffs from behind you, but you shrug it off, assuming it was about something Emily had said. 
It wasn't. 
As you walk into the bar with Derek's arm around your shoulder, you quickly make your way to the table with Garcia and Rossi. 
"What are you drinking?" You ask Garcia, gesturing to her hot pink drink in front of her, garnished with cotton candy, strawberries on sticks, and a big, twisty straw.
Gracia's eyes widen, "oh my gosh! You've never been here before??" You shake your head, and she squeals with excitement, "Okay, so, it's called the Cotton Candy Chameleon. It's basically strawberry vodka and coconut rum with strawberry soda! Look!" She picks up the cotton candy and places it into the liquid, watching as it rapidly dissolves, "did you see that?!" 
"That's why it's called a Chameleon," Derek laughs, arm still around you, "want me to get you one?" 
You nod happily, "and a shot of Titos? I'll pay you back!" 
Morgan winks at you, "It's on me, Bun." 
As he walks toward the bar, you and Garcia continue to chat about anything and everything, her childhood cat, where you grew up, and how Garcia got put on the team. 
"You were so good at being bad," you laugh, swirling your third Cotton Candy Chameleon that Morgan brought over to you, "that the FBI gave you a job instead of jail time?" 
She nodded, giggling, "Pretty much. Are you going to take that shot?" She points to the round Rossi had bought for the table. 
You laugh, quickly picking it up and downing it, "god!" 
"Woah!" Morgan laughs, hands catching your hips to keep you steady, "careful, Bunny." 
You feel eyes glaring into you, and you trace them to Reid sitting at the bar. He has his elbow on the bar, leaning into his hand as he watches you with a look of unhappiness. 
You roll your eyes, finishing the final chug of your drink, and placing a hand on Morgan's chest. 
"You're warm," you say with a goofy smile, and Derek laughs.
"Oh, really, sweetheart?" 
You nod, leaning further into him as his hands rest on your hips. 
You make eye contact with him before you smirk and push away, "I'm going to get another drink." 
"Hey, Bun!" You turn around to Rossi, his empty glass raised to you, "Get me another old fashioned." 
You nod, smiling at the older man, and waltzing to the bar, right next to Reid. 
"You having fun, Bunny?" He asks, voice low. 
"Yes, sir." You smile, waiting for the bartender to walk over. 
He sucks in a breath at the title, "You sure are touchy with Morgan," he grits out, staring at you, not quite your eyes, but something a little bit lower. 
You scoff, "What's it to you?" 
"Nothing." He spits, eyes connecting with yours, pupils taking over the brown of his eyes. 
The bartender finally comes up to you, a cute girl in a black, low-cut tank top and some black, short shorts. She has short blonde hair, barely reaching her shoulders and it's curled up and pinned back so her hair is framing her face. 
She was gorgeous, actually.
"What can I do for ya?" She asks, shaking a drink before breaking the seal and pouring it into a glass. 
You tell her your order, and that it's on David Rossi's tab, and she nods. 
Then she turns to Spencer, "What about you handsome?" She says it sultry like she's trying to seduce him, "Need another? I'd be happy to get you somethin' else." 
Your eyes narrow on her, a deep, red-hot feeling forming in your gut. She doesn't see your stare though, completely focused on Spencer, leaning over the counter so her cleavage is on full display, biting her lip and twirling her hair. 
You decided then and there that you hated her. 
Reid tells her that he's okay, water if she insists, and when she comes back with his water, she hands him a napkin with ink scribbled on it, "I get off in 45 if you're interested."
"He's not." 
The words come out of your lips faster than you could think, your brain taking longer to catch up with your mouth. 
"Pardon?" She asks you, calm and calculating, "Didn't know you could decide that for him." 
You laugh cockily, "Oh?" You act fast pulling yourself into Reid's lap before he can protest, but his hands wrap around you, trapping you where you sat, "I think I can." 
Reid looked at the bartender, then his eyes trailed back to you, "Sorry, Brooklyn, I'm spoken for," his eyes darkened, a sly smile rising on his lips. 
The bartender walks away to work on your drinks, and you turn all the way to face Reid. 
"What are you doing, Bun?" He asks, voice low. You shift your hips and he hums, grabbing your waist to stop the movement, "Stop that. Talk to me." 
You whimper, leaning into his chest, "You were really going to choose some bottle blonde over me?" Your words come out harsh, but it's also the first time you've said what's truly on your mind in front of Reid.
His eyes land back on Brooklyn, and he smirks, "She's pretty, I'll give her that," he looks down at you, right as the bartender places the drinks in front of you, "But you? You're on a whole different level, Bun." 
You blush and shake your head, just as Brooklyn walks back over to hand you your drinks. 
As she sets them down she says, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were a thing." 
You quickly shake your head, "Don't worry about it," you smile, "neither did he." 
"In my defense," Spencer laughs, his lips close to your ear, "I didn't know you were an option. If I had, there wouldn't have been a competition."
You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck, "yeah, right. You've hated me since I joined the BAU."
His eyes widened, "Hated you?" 
You nod softly, a little confused by the question. 
"Hated isn't the word I would use," He laughed. 
"What is?" You ask quietly. 
He leans his head side to side, as if pondering the best way to answer, "obsessed? Intimidated?" He looked at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, "Lusted?" 
Your eyes widened, "what?"
He shrugs, a hand falling to your thigh, thumb drawing circles, "The way you are entrances me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you exist." He leans his head down so his eyes meet yours, "I knew I couldn't do anything about that, so I stayed away. I guess it came off as hatred." 
The hand that wasn't on your leg reached up to pluck the cotton candy off of your drink, opening his mouth and letting the sugar melt on his tongue. 
"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still locked with yours, "so sweet, Bun." 
Your jaw dropped slightly, thighs clenching, and he grips your flesh, "Nuh, uh. What's wrong?" He chuckles as you whine against him, "Use your words." 
You sit up, straightening and sliding off of his lap, "You're a sick freak, Spencer Reid." 
He licked his lips, eyes trailing down your body, "I'll bring Rossi his drink, wait by the door." 
You cross your arms over your chest, but your heart is pounding so loudly you can hear it in your ears, "what makes you think I listen to you?" 
"Oh, Bunny," his finger lifts your chin, "I'm a profiler. Absolutely everything tells me that you'll listen to me." 
You roll your eyes and scoff, "And if they ask where we're going?"
A devilish smirk flashes across his lips, and he leans toward your ear, and you can feel his breath on your skin, "you already told them you're tired," he pauses, "I'm going to fuck you to sleep, Doctor." 
You suck in a shuddering breath, eyes glazing over as he chuckles, pulling away from you. 
You take a step back, mumbling, "Hurry back." 
He smiles widely, pupils practically taking over his chocolate eyes, "good girl." 
You suck in a breath as he turns on his heel, walking over to the team as you wait by the door. Penelope frowns at you, waving, and Emily blows you a kiss. 
Rossi looks at you calmly, and Derek raises a smooth eyebrow with a smirk. 
Spencer walks back to you, grabbing your arm as you walk to the car.
Once you get back to his black Dodge Challenger, he presses you against the door, “How drunk are you right now?”
“From one to ten?” You ask, voice quiet, Reid looking at you like you’re a meal.
He nods, hands gripping your hips, “Goddamn it, Bun,” he hisses, “Yes, one to ten.”
“Four,” you answer, and his lips slam into yours in a frenzy.
It’s all tongue and teeth like he couldn’t wait a single second longer to taste you. Like it would kill him. 
Your chest arches into his, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for life in the bruising kiss. 
He pulls away, his eyes nearly black, eyes filled with an undeniable hunger, and it makes you shiver. 
A smirk comes over his face as he steps away from you, opening your door, “get in.”
You don’t have to be told twice, stepping into the car, carefully so you don’t fall in the emerald heels he bought you.
With his own money.
“Spencer?”
He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking spot, “Yeah?” 
You look at him, studying how you are both still dressed like a posh-rich couple, “You bought me these heels.” 
He nods, chuckling and placing his hand on your thigh, “Excellent observation.”
You shudder at the contact, “with your own money.” 
He smirks, “Who told you that?”
“JJ?”
“Ah,” he laughs, “Yeah, green’s your color.”
You raise an eyebrow, “How did you decide that?”
“A few weeks ago you wore this emerald green sweater,” he says, “It looked so goddamn good on you.”
You recall the memory, smiling softly, “Is that why you were avoiding me? You thought I looked pretty?”
His voice gets stern, face serious when he looks over at you, “Stop talking, Bun.”
A belly laugh escapes your mouth, head thrown back as you cackle, “I thought I pissed you off somehow!”
He gives your thigh a sharp squeeze, “I don’t think I’ve ever been genuinely angry with you.”
You sit dumbfounded, a quiet oh slipping past your closed lips. 
He looks at you and parks the car, “I’ve been upset, frustrated, and God have I been irritated with you,” he turns to look at you, pulling his hand away from your leg, “But I have never been angry with you.” 
He unbuckles quickly as you stare at him in surprise, and he gets out of the car, rushing around to open your door, “hurry up.”
You stumble out of the car, and he puts a hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his apartment.
You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the chaotic charm of Spencer Reid’s place. As soon as you notice the books piled up everywhere, he spins you around, pressing your back against the door and capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss is slower and more controlled, with his hands sliding up your sides to your back, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck. You ball his shirt into your hands, pulling him impossibly closer.
“God, Bun, your fucking intoxicating,” he sighs against your lips, hands slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare hips, and you sigh at the contact. 
He smirks, trailing wet kisses down your neck, gently grazing his teeth over your pulse point, and you moan, “there she is,” he mumbles, “been wanting to hear you make those pretty little sounds for a while.”
You whimper, “Shut up.”
He laughs, tugging you away from the door, and guiding you into his bedroom. 
You shed off your suit jacket, and he rips your shirt over your head before pushing you down on his mattress. You gasp as you fall, Spencer's hands quickly move to your slacks, unbuttoning them and looking up at you with eyes so fiery you feel your whole body set aflame. 
“Yes,” you say, noticing the silent question Spencer is asking you, “please, yes.” 
He smirks, kissing the skin just above the waistline of your pants before tugging them down, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off.
He throws the items into the corner of his room, sitting up and looking at you: dressed in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, his eyes darken. He slides his hands down your body, and he practically growls when he feels your sopping wet cunt.
“God dammit, you’re so wet Bunny,” he says, his finger sliding over the soaked fabric of your panties, “such a silly girl, thinking I could want anyone but you.”
You whimper at the comment, and he leans down to kiss your upper thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart with the palms of his hands. Your legs widen as he settles in, kissing slowly up and around them, licking, sucking, and biting until you’re littered with heart-shaped marks. 
“Gonna show you how much I wanted you,” he hisses, his hot breath fanning over your covered pussy, “gotta let you know how dumb you are for thinking I was anyone’s but yours.”
You whimper shamelessly at the comment, your legs trying to close, desperate for any kind of friction.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you, Bunny?” he laughs, looking up at you from between your thighs, “You like it when I tell you just how stupid you are? How fuckin’ useless that little brain of yours is?”
You nod rapidly, and Spencer licks a thick stripe over your clothed core. You let out a loud gasp, your head lolling to the side at the much-appreciated attention. He pushes your underwear to the side, diving into your pussy like a man starved. Spencer kitten licks your clit before pulling it into his mouth and sucking harshly, and your back arches from the bed.
“Fuck, Spence,” you moan, hands shooting into his hair, “so fuckin good, feels so good.”
“Mmm, there you go, baby,” he says, his index finger circling your entrance, “let me know how good I’m doing,” and his finger slowly pushes into you as his mouth reconnects to your hot skin.
Spencer Reid was talented with his tongue, but, god, his fingers were a whole other story.
He curled his finger toward him, finding that sweet, gummy spot inside you almost immediately, abusing it before inserting another and scissoring his fingers.
“You’re so tight,” he mumbles against your cunt, and a loud moan slips from your lips, your hands tangling into his hair as you desperately try to grind against his tongue, but he puts a hand over your stomach, holding you down.
He continues his torment, fingers working you open and his tongue moving rapidly through your folds. His fingers drag down your front wall slowly, and you can’t help his name slipping off of your tongue. 
He smirks, looking up at you, “Atta girl, Bunny. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”
You moan loudly as he continues his torment. Your legs start to shake, his tongue swirling circles around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and one of your hands grabs your breast to ground you. Your breathing gets ragged, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming.
“You gonna cum for me, Bunny?” He asks, voice low, “Gonna cum all over my fingers?”
You nod, and he tsk’s.
“Without asking?” He says, a smirk on his perfect lips, slowing his fingers down and moving to kiss the insides of your thighs, “Not even going to ask after I’ve worked so hard for you?”
You throw your head back with a groan, “Please, Spencer!”
“Please what?”
You consider slapping him, telling him to stop treating you like some desperate slut, but in your current state? You might as well be.
“Please let me cum! I’ve been so good for you, Spence, I’ll be so good!”
“Yeah? You going to be my good girl?” he asks, eyes locking with yours, eyebrows raised, as he speeds up his fingers inside of your spasming pussy, “You promise?”
“Promise! Please, Spence, let me cum for you!”
He pauses for a second like he’s thinking, the smirk on his face growing, “cum for me, Bunny,” and he watches your face, jaw dropped as you orgasm around his fingers, your slick coating his palm and dripping onto the sheets below you as he works you through your bliss.  
Once you come down, though, his fingers don't stop moving, his thumb moving to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “You’ve got another one in you,” he says as you bite your lip and your eyes water slightly, “C’mon, baby, you can give me another, right?”
You nod your head, your lip tugged between your teeth, your legs still shaking. He doesn’t give you time to breathe, just continues to suck and lick on your clit like it’s what he was made for, and, before you know it, your eyes clench shut as you rapidly approach another orgasm.
Little whimpers leave your lips, and Spencer chuckles slightly, “My poor girl, so desperate for me. I can tell you’re getting close again, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” you whisper, and he speeds up his pace, your jaw dropping into a silent ‘o’.
He kisses your stomach, holding your shaking legs with his free hand, “Give it to me, Bun.”
And you release with reckless ambition, thighs flung open and a hand gripping the sheets for your life as a string of moans leaves your lips. Spencer removes his fingers and moves down to lick up your come, and you have no choice but to whimper. He smirks and pulls away from your cunt, placing his lips hot on your own, and you taste yourself.
“You’re so sweet, Bunny. Sweeter than candy,” he sighs, hands sliding down your chest.
You whimper, forcing your hands into his hair in another soul-crushing kiss, and he chuckles into it. 
“Desperate for something?” 
And you nod, one hand trailing down the front of his body, grabbing his dick covered by his pants and he groans.
“You want this cock, Baby?” He lifts off of you, sitting with his knees on either side of your body while he quickly undoes the top two buttons of his shirt before deeming it useless and pulling it over his head while your hands make quick work of his pants, pulling off his belt and tugging his pants and boxers down enough to free his aching cock.
You moan at the sight, immediately leaning forward to kiss his tip, before he pushes you back onto the bed. 
“Another time, Bun,” he grumbles, “need to feel you around me.” 
You moan, nodding and lining him up with your quivering pussy, and he pushes forward just slightly, enough for his tip to pop inside of you, and the groan that leaves his lips is pornographic. 
“She’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, can feel her squeezing me.” 
You whimper, “please! More!” 
He chuckles darkly at your request, “yeah? You need something?” 
You roll your hips forward, pushing him in a little further before he slaps the outside of your thigh harshly. 
“Nuh uh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take my time with you.” 
He emphasizes his words by pulling out slightly, and pushing back in, fucking you with just his tip, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips. 
“Look at you,” he groans, continuing his torturous motions, “so desperate for my cock. Such a nasty little thing.” 
And the thrusts harshly, abruptly sheathing his whole cock inside of you, and your head throws back. 
He has the audacity to laugh at you, quickening his pace, each thrust hitting causing him to hit your cervix in a blissfully painful way, your eyes rolling back, begging for something. You're not quite sure what, though. 
“So fucked out you can't think straight?” He coos, his pace never slowing, “if I knew this was all it took to shut you up I’d have done it a long time ago.” 
And you whine at the thought. 
He raises an eyebrow, “You like that idea, don't you, Bunny?” And you nod. 
Suddenly, he pulls out completely, slapping your thigh again, “Roll over. Hands and knees.” 
You quickly comply, supporting yourself on shaky arms and legs, and he trails a hand up your spine before pushing down, forcing your chest to the bed below you. 
He groans as you arch your back, quickly pushing himself back inside your sopping cunt.,
“Such pretty holes you got here, baby,” he whispers, spitting onto your asshole as one of his thumbs spreads out the lubricant, causing your breath to hitch. 
“Wanna fill both of them for you, can I do that?” 
And you nod recklessly, your head bouncing against the pillows at the speed and power of his thrusts, and he takes your permission to push his thumb into your virgin ass, and the moan that rips through your throat is almost humiliating. 
“You like being so full of me, don't you, Bunny?”
And you groan out, “yes! Fuck, I’m so close, Spencer!” 
He laughs as your cunt starts quivering around his cock, his tip bullying that sweet spot inside of you. 
“I know sweet thing, give it to me. Cum around my cock.” 
With permission, you release around him, your pussy clenched around his dick and your ass squeezing his thumb, but he keeps fucking you through it.
His free hand laces through your hair, pulling your head back as you whimper in overstimulation. 
“Take it,” he groans, mumbling more to himself as his cock twitches inside of you, “come on, take it like the dirty whore you are. Love having me fill both your nasty holes, fuck.” 
His rhythm falters, and he thrusts one or two more times before spilling inside of you, fucking his seed deeper inside of you. 
Once he calms down, he slowly removes his thumb before carefully pulling out of your pussy, and you whimper at the empty feeling. 
“Stay here,” he whispers, kissing your hip before scrambling to the bathroom for a warm, damp washcloth. 
He gently wipes you off, murmuring about how good you did for him, saying he’s proud of you before he helps you roll over onto your back. 
He chuckles at the goofy smile on your lips, eyes tired and droopy, and he pushes the hair that had matted to your skin with sweat out of your face.
“You okay?” He asks, voice low, and you nod happily. 
“‘M perfect.” 
“Good,” he smiles, pulling the comforter over you and cuddling up to your spent body. 
You lay in silence for a moment, happy and relaxed in his arms, before you speak up.
“So, you never hated me?” 
“Jesus Christ, Bun,” he sighs exasperatedly, “go to sleep.”
378 notes · View notes
ultramaga · 2 days ago
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"An aggressively racist man can still have the support of numerous people of color", says the moron incapable of consciousness. Here's an idea. Maybe he wasn't racist? Maybe, instead, you are ? "A chauvinist that wants to enforce laws" Oh no. He wants to enforce laws. How dreadful. "an restrictions on women's bodies" Everyone's body is restricted. Which is why it is a crime for a man to punch you. Every Leftist manages to forget that one the second it is inconvenient.
Good thing he enforces the laws. "coined the term "grab 'em by the pussy"" Oh, how dreadful, a heterosexual wants to touch the genitals of the opposite sex. Where is my fainting couch? Leftists always edit out the "when you’re a star, they let you do it".
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Because it's inconvenient to admit that women do gravitate to high status males, even if it's just to use them as cash machines.
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Oh, I am sure they let him grab more than a pussy ....
"A xenophobic man who wanted to build a wall" If he was xenophobic, he wouldn't have married his wife and certainly wouldn't be beloved by foreigners. You confuse wanting to keep out criminals with hating outsiders because you don't know there's a difference. Because you are racist, or a moron.
Walls around countries are pretty common.
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Or are Indians just xenophobes as well?
"still has the support of immigrants" Yeah, the people who obey laws don't want the criminals inside the house. So what does that make you, glassmermaids?
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Oh right, you are from South Africa, the country where whites are routinely murdered if they aren't behind walls. So of course you want the walls torn down - silly me!
"People still support and voted for a convicted felon" As opposed to Kamala Harris, who boasted that she broke the laws and never, ever was punished - the same laws she imprisoned young black men with, the same laws she used to make them slave for her. Of course you are in favour of two-tier justice -- rules for thee, not for me. And look at the trial -
https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2024/05/29/jurors-must-be-unanimous-convict-trump-can-disagree-underlying-crimes/
THE JURORS WERE TOLD THAT THEY DIDN'T HAVE TO THINK HE WAS GUILTY OF THE ACCUSATIONS TO VOTE HIM GUILTY. There's no precedent for that.
Which is why HE HASN'T BEEN SENTENCED. It was obvious to everyone that it was a political witchhunt of exactly the sort that is routinely used in corrupt states to eliminate political opposition. So the accusation that he's a felon? He literally isn't! And the American people didn't think he was guilty either. Of course, what was he even accused of? Paying hush money to a sex worker? What happened to "sex work is real work"? Funny how that vanished the second it was inconvenient. But tell me, how many convictions did Hunter Biden get for his under-age hookers? None? Even mentioning his laptop got you censored and threatened with prison? Laws for thee, and none for meeeee! What about the cocaine in the Whitehouse? No consequences? Huh.
But as Leftists point out, it's not "hush money" when Leftist leaders do it, it's "a settlement between gentlemen and their many ladies of the night".
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"People still support and voted for a convicted felon, racist, rapist" Number of convictions is zero - the best you ever got was he paid hush money to a sex worker. In fact, you know who does commit rape?
Yup! South African women are proven to be more likely to be rapists than Donald Trump. Huh. Makes me wonder. Makes the old noggin' go a'joggin'.
"people still support and voted for Donald Trump" And they will never do that to you. Your birth is back there in time, your death somewhere forward of now, and nothing in between those events will matter a fig.
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So much salt.
So. Much. Salttttttt.
Rape allegations and charges do not ruin mens' lives because a rapist can run for president and win. An aggressively racist man can still have the support of numerous people of color, can run for president and win. A chauvinist that wants to enforce laws an restrictions on women's bodies and coined the term "grab 'em by the pussy" still has the support of women. A xenophobic man who wanted to build a wall to keep foreigners out of the country still has the support of immigrants. People still support and voted for a convicted felon, racist, rapist and scum of the earth. Despite it all, people still support and voted for Donald Trump.
12K notes · View notes
wonderjanga · 1 day ago
Note
So there is that headcanon where Captian Marvel looks a lot like teth Aman (Black Adams kid) and him mistaking cap as his kid and trying to reconnect in a way making people think that Black Adam is Captain Marvels dad
*throws this idea at you and runs away*
*idea smacks me in the head*
Teth was furious. For good reason too. The Wizard literally sealed him away for nearly five thousand years. Then, the old man replaced him with some, from what he’d heard, bumbling idiot. So yes, he was furious, and he also wanted his job back. Something he could only get if the current champion was put down. Which he was on his way to this place called Fawcett to do.
When he got there, he could practically feel the magic emanating from the city. Were there magic ley lines here? Then it’s a no wonder the Champion chose to set up base here rather than one of the major cities. As of now, Adam was above the city surveying the terrain. Meanwhile, Billy in Marvel form is sitting on a roof, wondering who that weirdo hovering above the city.
Solomon: “Oh… Billy you have to kill that man.”
Marvel: “WHAT?” *gobsmacked and concerned because other than a couple times, Solomon has never been one to hop on the ‘kill that villain’ train*
Achilles: “Yeah, we’re sorry, but like, no joke, you actually gotta kill him.”
Marvel: “The other times were jokes?”
Mercury: “Kinda, but you absolutely have to kill this guy or he will kill you.”
Marvel: “Oh. Uhm… okay?” *sounds extremely nervous as he stands up* “So what do? Do I just…?”
Hercules: “Yeah, just like charge him, and beat him. To death.”
And that’s how Adam literally blinked and the next thing he knew, he was hurtling through the air and to the ground, far from the so called Fawcett. Damn it. The current Champion had found him first. When Adam crawled out of his crater, he was met with a face he didn’t think he’d ever see again. Aman.
Had that blasted Wizard brought his son back from the grave? Adam didn’t know whether he should be grateful, or enraged. On one hand, the Wizard brought his boy back. His boy whose life had ended too early. On the other hand, his boy had been thrust back into a life of danger as the Champion. Gods, how long had Aman been the current Champion? How long had the Wizard waited until he decided that doing this was acceptable?
As for Billy, he just stared down at the guy wearing black in confusion. Why did the Gods want him to kill this guy so bad? He isn’t attacking anyone. He’s kinda just there, staring up at up at Billy with the same confused expression Billy has. He also has the same lightning bolt? Billy had thought that was only reserved for people connected to the rock. The Wizard had never mentioned this guy before if that’s the case.
Black Adam: *mistakes Billy’s confusion as recognized* “…Aman?”
Marvel: *heard “a man” and just thought Adam just had some type of accent* “Yes…?” *now extremely confused*
Black Adam: “I can’t believe it.” *flies over to him and tries to reach out to him*
Marvel: *moves out of his reach because he does not know this rando*
Black Adam: *sounds slightly annoyed* “What did the Wizard tell you?”
Marvel: “Nothing? I just don’t know you.”
Black Adam: *looks absolutely disturbed* “He erased your memory?”
Marvel: *just about to answer when some monster starts attacking Fawcett* “Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk later.” *flies off to the monster*
Zeus: “How interesting.” *probably stroking his beard* “He didn’t immediately kill you.”
Solomon: “Be on watch Billy. He could still attack.”
Now, Adam obviously didn’t do that. He immediately went to Kahndaq, made himself pharaoh again and remodeled the palace as best as he could in such a short time. It wasn’t until about a week later that Adam came back to see his boy again.
Marvel: *finishes helping an old lady cross the road*
Black Adam: *lands beside him and clears his throat*
Marvel: “Oh, it’s you again!” *smiles*
Black Adam: “Yes. It is I.”
*silence*
Marvel: *desperate to fill the awkward silence* “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name the last time we met.”
Black Adam: “I am Teth Adam.” *is super hurt that his boy doesn’t remember him and is plotting on the Wizard*
Marvel: “Cool. I’m Captain Marvel. I’m fine with Cap, or Marvel, or whatever you can come up with.”
Black Adam: “So that’s what he has you going by…”
Marvel: “What?”
*another silence*
Black Adam: *clear throat again* “When… are you coming home?””
Marvel: “Home?”
Black Adam: “Home. Kahndaq. If you’re worried about becoming a slave again, after your…” *clears throat* “The point is, I worked to get rid of it.”
Billy honest to the Gods just assumed this guy was both lonely and another Champion.
Marvel: *confused at the mention of slavery* “Sure, I’ll come by. That’s in like Africa, right?”
Black Adam: *a little relieved that he’d visit, but also filled with a little dread because Marvel not knowing where Kahndaq is kind of supports the memory wipe theory* “I believe so.”
Marvel did visit. And sure, he might’ve had to work himself up for the awkward afternoon, but it wasn’t that bad. Teth seemed a little happier after the whole thing. Billy’s pretty sure at least. It’s a little hard to get a read the guy’s emotions.
Also, someone caught the end of their conversation, more specifically the coming home bit. Thus, the rumors of this new guy in black being Marvel’s father were born. These rumors were fueled by Adam trying to be fatherly, albeit awkwardly, and Billy just accepting it because he just thinks Adam is being nice.
Like the time Adam brought him a modernized version Aman’s favorite food because he thought he might still like it.
Achilles: “WAIT BILLY IT MIGHT BE POISONED-”
Marvel: *takes a big munch* “Wow, this is really good!”
Black Adam: *relieved* “It’s good you still like it.”
Yeah, Fawcitizens are like ninety percent sure Adam is their hero’s dad. And they’re here for it. They just want their big guy to be happy.
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catsukkii · 3 days ago
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hi!!! im new on here and ive been binge reading all of ur stuff 😭 im not sure if this is where you send reqs but if it is in begging for an older brother’s best friend trope w katsuki 🙏 i absolutely adore this trope and i js imagine katsuki pretending to be so annoying w picking you up or ‘babysitting you’ for his friend bur he secretly rlly likes it. thank u sm! <3
OMG HELLLOOO!! THANK YOU FOR BINGE READING MY STUFF!! this is where u send requests and I’m totally inlove with this idea you just opened my eyes. 2 POSTS IN 1 DAYYY?? I’m spoiling all 50 of my followers 🙏
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Off-limits, Right? — katsuki bakugo
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IN WHICH…katsuki was your older brothers bestfriend, you hated him, he hated you, I mean why else would he constantly tease you? so yeah, you guys hated eachother. right…?
Pairing; Katsuki bakugo x Afab!reader
Content contains; fem!reader, SUGGESTIVE! mdni, swearing, corny scenarios, katsuki uses ‘princess’ in a mocking way, reader is 19, katsuki is 21, and brother is 22, swearing.
Word count; smth over 1k
A/N; this was a wonderful request I’m sorry I couldn’t do it justice !! 😩 I hope ur happy with the result nonetheless!! <3
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he was insufferable, he just couldn’t leave you alone. everytime he comes over to hang out with your brother, you avoid him and stay in your room at pretty much all costs; yet he always finds a way to still get under your nerves.
the stupid calls behind the door as they make their way to your brothers room,
“aww princess, you don’t miss me?” he yells behind the door, you can hear the cocky bastards smirk. you groan and just ignore him as he laughs with your brother. stupid boys.
it doesn’t stop there though, if you ever decide to come out of your room you better prayyyy hes not down there because he’s teasing you to absolutely no end.
“oh the beast has awoken I see?” he smirks and rests his elbows on the kitchen island, eyeing you up and down like you were a piece of meat. you roll your eyes and continue to open your fridge and get a drink.
“would you just shut up for once katsuki?” you bite back and he lets out an airy mocking laugh, putting his hands up in fake defense.
“easy there, just playin around sleeping beauty.” that stupid smirk never leaving his lips, you groan and grab your drink before descending up the stairs back to your room.
and you see, it would be a lot easier to avoid katsuki if him and your brother weren’t constantly in eachothers back pocket. It was frustrating, all you wanted was for him to leave you alone!
and then the worst possible thing happened.
“yoo, y/n.” your brothers voice speaks, tapping you on the shoulder, you tilt your head to look over your shoulder and hum a response. “okay don’t kill me but..memomanddadaregoingtoabarandkatsukihastobabysityou.” you stare at him blankly.
“okay what the actual fuck did you just say to me.” he takes in a deep breath and repeats himself slower. “me mom and dad are going to a bar and katsuki has to babysit you.” he has an anxious scrunch plastered on his face, prepared for you to blow up.
“what the HELL?” you slam the book you were reading closed, the sound echoed through the house. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter! I’m 19!” he sighs and attempts to calm you down.
“I know, i know, I agree! I tried to tell mom and dad that but I guess they just didn’t trust you…” you scoff at this and slouch in your seat with another loud groan rumbling past your lips.
“so they decide to have fucking katsuki babysit me? you know how much I hate him.” you glare up at him and he sighs for you.
“yeah I know..look it’s only for one night! I’m sure you’ll survive right?” you scoff at him and slam yourself up from the couch and reach your room, spending the rest of your time there before katsuki shows up.
‘ding dong’ you hear the doorbell and immediately plant your face in your pillow, mentally preparing for the night you’re about to have. you can hear him buttering up your parents, talking about how their ‘precious daughter’ is in wonderful hands. what a fucking joke. the minute everybody left, he sighs before yelling up the stairs.
“you gonna sit up in your room the whole time?” you can hear the cockiness dripping in his tone even through a whole staircase and your door. you sigh, bouncing off your bed and opening your door walking down the stairs with the least pleasant expression on your face.
“ah there’s the princess, wipe that look off your face. I’m not any happier about this.” you scoff and continue your walking down the stairs, reaching him at the bottom and glaring into his eyes. “yeah right.” you remark sarcastically and push past his shoulder and walk back to your spot on the couch. he sighs to himself and grouchily walks over to sit next to you, creating a respective distance.
“the tv remotes right here,” you toss it at him and he catches with no problems, gosh fucking loser has to be good at everything. “put whatever you want on, I don’t care.” you dismiss him and open your book again, deciding that’s the best way to drown him out.
“oh so the princess isn’t always cold hearted?” he bit his lip partially with a slight smirk, you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze back onto your book and stutter out a ‘yeah whatever..’ he put on some creepy ass movie, you weren’t even watching it but the noises and jumpscares were kind of getting to you, you put the book down for one second and then got invested into the movie, katsuki took notice of this but decided to not say anything to scare you off just yet.
a certain jumpscare got to you, and you flinched with a high pitched ‘eek!’ he only laughed at you and looked at you with a faux mocking pout.
“aww princess you scared?” his pout turned into a smirk, and he licked his lips slightly. “s-shut up katsuki.” you roll your eyes and attempt to play it off before he just has to open his mouth again.
“cmon you want me to hold you so the monsters won’t get you?” he opens his arms and laughs when you immediately protest. “ew, katsuki! quit!” he nonetheless throws your ‘stupid’ book across the room and before you even have time to think he’s grabbing you by the shoulders and planting you on his lap.
“katsuki— eugh— let me go!” you whine trying to wiggle out of his grasp, he sighs before speaking, “keep movin like that on me and you’re definitely not going.” you gasp at his comment and hit him on the arm.
“gross katsuki!” he just laughs and you eventually accept your fate on his lap, trying to avoid the fact you’re on your older brothers bestfriends lap. You continue on with the movie, eventually relaxing into katsukis hold when another jumpscare causes you to jump in his hold, he mocks you with a laugh and suddenly his mouth is very close to your ear, you can feel his hot breath trickling down your neck and it causes you to stiffen. “you scared, princess?” he whispers deeply into your ear, you try to shake off the flustered feeling and shake your head no.
“are you sure? maybe this will help take your mind off things.” and before you can even think to protest, your being spinned around on his lap, face to face with him. your legs were straddling either side of his now and he rests his hand on your lower back, pushing you closer to him.
“katsuki— mm!” you were cut off to him pressing a kiss to your lips, even though your mind was telling you ‘no, no, back away!’ your body seemed to have a different idea, leaning into his touch and kissing right back causing his signature smirk to envelop his face, smiling into the kiss.
it turned into a heated makeout session, your hands resting on his neck, one of his hands rubbing down your back and the other behind your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. the only thing that could be heard was the movie you had both long forgotten about and the smacks of your lips colliding.
“you don’t know—“ he breathes out before planting another kiss to you, “—how long I’ve wanted this.” you continue your assault to his lips and only pull away for a short response back. “yeah?” he hums an agreement into the kiss, at this point you’re practically grinding on eachother, your brows furrowing and mouth parting slightly, and suddenly it all hits you.
you pull away abruptly, his lips chasing yours before a look of confusion wipes over his face. “we shouldn’t be doing this.” you speak and nervously tuck your hair behind your ears. “well it’s a little late for that princess…” you groan and bury your head in your hands, what were you thinking?
“I mean we don’t really have to stop now—“ you shush him quickly, he rolls his eyes but listens nonetheless, as if on que you can here the doorknob jiggle, you spring off his lap and back onto your designated place on the couch, katsuki grabs a pillow to cover his crotch which you gave him a disgusted look for, as if you werent practically leaking through your panties right now.
they walk through the door, everybody greeting their hellos before your mother speaks up at the sight, “aw look at you two! finally getting along I see?” you grumble at her words but katsuki speaks up with a sly grin, “you could say that.” she gushes over this fact, katsuki was always her favorite friend of your brothers. only you and him knew the true meaning behind his words, eventually everybody gets ready to part their goodbyes, and you’re about to ascend up the stairs again before katsuki calls your name.
you spin around to face him, and stride over he unexpectedly hugs you, which your mother ‘awe’s’ at, little did she know he just whispered ‘call me.’ in your ear, leaving you a flustered mess, you say your quick goodbye and rush up to your room.
what we’re you gonna do.
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a/n; if this does well I’ll do part 2 but prolly not
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meelusinee · 1 day ago
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WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND 𖥔 M.R X READER
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in which you spend christmas with mattheo and his friends (part two to lovesick!mattheo)
pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, early christmas post i think? word count: 1.8k warnings: just fluff!
author's note: THIS IS PART TWO TO LOVESICK MATTHEO, if you want to read part one click here - now listen people, i know it’s not really christmas time BUT a lot of you guys really liked my first mattheo post, and i really really wanna write about him again. and what better way to be in love then cuddles at the fireplace??? therefore, the obvious solution is to have a christmas special!
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WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND | M.R X READER
It had been a long while since you and Mattheo had gotten together, a relationship full of notes and songs dedicated to you. You tried to keep everything you could in a small box, the widest smile on Mattheo’s face coming out when he saw the box for the first time.
Suffice to say that his appreciative kisses and cuddles kept you rather warm that night.
Over the course of your relationship, you had met Mattheo’s friends as well. It started indirectly, whenever they would barge into his dorm room and find you both cuddling. 
Theodore was the one you talked to the most. He was Mattheo’s best friend, and often teased him quite a bit about how much he loved you. Theo was the one who told you about the love letters that Mattheo made in the first place, which you shall forever be grateful for. 
Blaise and Draco were the friends that you often went to if you wanted to get on a cruise ship the next week, or whenever you wanted the best wine seller for a Slytherin party that weekend. And Enzo or Pansy were the friends you’d go to if you wanted all of that done illegally.
All in all, a rather good friend group.
Which led you to where you were going right now. A legal holiday adventure hosted by Draco at one of his vacation houses somewhere in the world. Mattheo and you decided to spend some time together driving to the place, which eventually led to Theo coming along. Theo invited Blaise to smoke with him. Blaise invited Draco to pay for road trip snacks. Draco invited Pansy because they were dating. And Pansy invited Enzo for reasons you still hadn’t been told yet.
That meant you had to take your family van.
You and Mattheo sat in the front, with Theo, Ezo  and Blaise in the middle. Pansy and Draco sat in the backseats, dining in on the couple time that you and Mattheo had been robbed of. Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Are we there yet?” Enzo whined, head leaning forward.
Maybe one change or two.
“No, we’re not.” Mattheo said, sighing softly as he continued driving forward. “I told you this five minutes ago.”
“Maybe the path changed within five minutes!” Enzo said to him. 
“Yeah, five minutes closer. Not an hour!” you said, chuckling softly as you squeezed Mattheo’s hand. 
“You two are mean.” Enzo pouted, turning to look at Blaise. “Right Blaise?”
“It’s deserved.” he said, flipping through the pages of his book. He recently got reading glasses that Draco and Enzo had teased him endlessly for. “Ow!”
“No kicking!” Pansy said, swatting Enzo’s head from the backseat.
“I say go full-in.” Theo said, which ensued an argument about the ethics of kicking someone whenever they don’t agree with your opinion. You and Mattheo turned to look at each other with soft sighs, similar to parents dealing with toddlers going to Disneyland.
“Can you all hush back there?” you said, the tiniest smirk present on your face as you started at Mattheo. “Your father is trying to drive, hey don’t hit me!”
“Hush.” he said, gently booping your nose.
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“Are we there now?” Enzo asked as Mattheo pulled into the parking lot, gasping loudly at the sight of the cabin. “Woah.”
It was decorated to the most Christmas extent you could think of. Bushes covered in lights, icicle lights hanging from the roof, wreaths placed all over the place. There were bells on top of the mailbox that chimed when you passed by it, and a large and bright star at the tippy top of the roof. If you didn’t know where you were, you’d think you walked into a Christmas market hosted by Santa.
The seven of you walked out of the car, Draco walking through first as he inspected the house.
“My mother has a knack for Christmas,” he muttered, his feet making a rather large imprint in the snow. “I didn't think it was this big though.” 
“I bet the Christmas tree is so pretty.” Pansy squealed, running to the front door. “Open it!”
“Give me a moment, Pans!” he said, trying to figure out which key opened the front door from the ring his mother had given him. You and Mattheo stayed behind while the rest of them rushed forward, watching them rush inside once Draco got it open.
“It looks rather magical.” you whispered, giggling as a small snowflake fell on your nose.
“It really does.” Mattheo whispered softly, his eyes glued on you as he spoke. “The most magical thing I’ve ever seen.” 
“You’re so sappy.” you smiled.
Mattheo chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you. There were two puffer jackets separating your skin from his, but you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. “We should go on a walk.”
“We should!” you said, your boots making an indent on the snow as you both walked down the path. 
The path was even more magical than the house itself, you noticed, with Christmas trees lining the whole way down. It seemed that all of the trees within the field were swaddled in Christmas lights. Some were regular, some were colored, and others had ornaments or lights at the tip of them.
“This really is beautiful.” you whispered, gasping at the string lights and small candles that gently flew between the trees. How they didn’t get put out by the snow, you had no idea. “Wow.”
“You’re beautiful.” he whispered, chuckling softly as he kissed your forehead. “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you this whole time.” 
“Well, you better start.” you pouted, turning to him. “The trees are really pretty.”
Mattheo nodded, laughing as you grabbed his chin to direct him where to look. His eyes took in the snowed over area first, the lights on the trees after that. There was red, green, and blue lights bouncing together, along with the regularly colored lights that shined bright on the glittery ornaments.
“They are rather pretty, yes.” he whispered. “Though I feel like it’s quite a lot of color rather than just one.” 
“What really is Christmas if not to turn you blind with bright lights?” you asked, smiling as the both of you walked further down the path. 
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“Okay everyone, gather around!” Mattheo said, a bass guitar in hand. The night was rising as the sun was setting, the firepit that Blaise and Enzo had made cracking through the burning wood.
“What are we doing?” Pansy asked, sitting down on one of the wooden logs. Mattheo sat down next to you as Draco sat down next to Pansy. Theo sat next to Mattheo purely to annoy him, while Blaise and Enzo sat on the other log.
“We’re going to sing the Jingle Bell Rock.” Mattheo said, setting the bass guitar on his knees as he began testing it. “Found this in the attic.”
“What on Earth are you doing in my attic?” Draco asked, a cup of wine in his hands.
“Hey, it was open!” Theo said, having assisted with the raid of the Christmas attic. “And we found a bunch of very interesting things.”
“Like what?” Enzo leaned forward with a smirk, before Blaise whacked him in the head. “Ow!”
“They’re just messing with Draco.” Blaise said. “There was only old cobwebs and his parents’ Hogwarts uniforms, nothing scandalous.”
“A shame though.” Theo muttered, lighting a joint before turning to Mattheo. “You gonna play?”
“Yup.” Mattheo said, his fingers running against the strings as he played the opening to the Jingle Bell Rock. 
You and Pansy giggled as the boys all joined together to sing the song, all completely out of tune. Pansy shared a glance with you as you both began to sing the back up vocals, all of you swaying in tune with the music. 
You went from the Jingle Bell Rock to Rockin Around the Christmas Tree. Mattheo and you sang Baby it’s Cold Outside while Theo and Enzo gagged, and Draco dramatically sang Frosty the Snowman with tears in his eyes. Enzo stood up dramatically, pausing the guitar as he began to sing a song about a grandma being run over by a reindeer.
“Okay, that’s enough weed for you,” Draco said, sitting Enzo back down. “We are not running grandmas over with reindeer.”
“Says you!” Theo cackled, crossing his legs. “I for one find the idea rather pleasant.” 
“Pleasant?” Pansy asked incredulously, shaking her head as she very quickly snatched Theo’s joint out of his hand. “That’s it, we’re cutting you off too.”
“My joint!” Theo yipped.
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“Mattheo?” you called out, poking your head out of the door as you saw him sitting by the firepit.
“Yeah?” he asked, head lifting at the sound of your voice. You felt your face heating up at the smile that spread on his face, feeling it enough to heat you better than any fire could. “Hi there my love.”
“Everyone’s inside making hot chocolate before they go to bed.” you whispered, walking closer to him. Your hands found their way to the sides of his face, kissing the tip of his nose before you sat down next to him on the log. “Do you want some?”
“No, I’m good.” he whispered, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arm around you.
“You sure?” you whispered, wrapping both of your arms around his waist. “You feel rather cold out here. Your face is all red.”
“That’s because I’m staring at a really pretty girl.” he chuckled softly, kissing your lips ever so gently.
You giggled softly, placing your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him with the cutest expression he could ever think of. For him, you felt like epitome of Christmas. “I love you.”
“I love you more.” you said, nuzzling your nose against his playfully.
“No, I love you more.” he smiled softly at you.
“Not true.” you pouted, kissing his nose. “Because I love you so much more.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, chuckling softly. “Well I wrote you songs. So obviously, I love you more.”
“Yeah, well I saved them!” you pouted.
“You did save them.” he reasoned, nodding his head as he looked at the firepit. He put on a serious expression, pretending to truly ponder whether you loved him more or he loved you more. “Still think I love you more though.”
“That’s not fair.” you grumbled, burying your face against the crook of his neck. “It’s cold.”
“Why don’t we go inside then?” he asked gently, his fingertips caressing your shoulder. “You didn’t come out with your jacket, you must be freezing.”
“I am.” you whispered, standing up as he did. “Hot chocolate?”
Mattheo chuckled softly at your insistence, kissing your forehead once more before putting out the fire. “Anything for you.”
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
ITS HEREEEEE!!! i wanted to do a second part for mattheo and i thought that i might as well do christmas-themed since it's already blasting on the radio. i'm tryingggg to heal my christmas spirit that i have lost over the years, esp because i always thought it was just about that one mariah carey song since my sister would play it every. single. day. even during my birthday (i was born in june.)
BUT, as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!
have a good day everyone!
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leam1983 · 7 hours ago
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As a Canadian, and as someone living in a country that has a UBI framework, I think a lot of people misunderstand just how basic Universal Basic Income is.
TL;DR: I agree on principle, but identifying greed as a problem doesn't solve deeper systemic issues.
I see some armchair social theorists on here say that UBI is enough to fight more pressing social battles; that it empowers you to demand better rights as a worker, as a citizen. I've been on UBI and, well - no. UBI is enough to allow you to survive. If you want to invest in a project, if there's a worthwhile cause you want to get involved in that requires some involvement or some capital injection (even something as simple as buying supplies to fashion picketing signs) - that's on you. In Canada, UBI is calculated based on median income, which means that it isn't enough to kickstart some people's Post-Work-Era Roddenberry-Powered Magical Socialism where nobody works and everyone contributes out of sheer passion and drive.
UBI is there so you can survive, and so you can eventually have the resources and skillsets needed to contribute to Society without UBI lining your pockets. More importantly, UBI is there to ensure that there are no "bad jobs" to speak of, because even the fast food joint's janitor who's on Minimum Wage starts with better conditions than a UBI beneficiary. In Canada, a kid with no diploma who makes a living manning a Tim Hortons' cash register doesn't have to fight with the system to obtain credits related to his living conditions. The real problem has three prongs:
Welfare kings and queens who make it harder for legitimate demands of financial assistance to go through;
The corporate world that's forgotten that the very first rung past UBI needs to be 100% livable and needs to allow for at least some measure of savings to be something that can be planned for. UBI should facilitate survival, what happens when even minimum wage doesn't allow you to live right?
Slum lords who buy off properties initially set aside for Affordable Housing programs and who drive market values so far high that entry-level workers have to settle with living several hours away from their place of work.
But Sweden and Norway - Hold it. Sweden and Norway are filthy fucking rich. Sweden and Norway are Petrostates. Canada? Not so much. Year after year sees Affordable Living programs or revisions to UBI being floated that would turn it from a lifeline to an actually workable form of remuneration, but year after year sees my local politicians butt their heads against the fact that any kind of serious Social Security net can't just pay for itself; and Canadians are already sadly renowned for living in a country choked by taxes - all because our already-present pro-Social infrastructure is complex, inefficient and sadly vital for most low-income residents.
Imagine how insane implementing it would be on a per-State level, on the American side. Imagine the work that needs to be done; not just in terms of greater education, but also in the sense that there's an entire infrastructure you guys never put in place. Some of my colleagues are American expats, and their first big shock came in the form of their first tax bill on Canadian soil. Free healthcare isn't free, the load is just spread across the country's residents. It also means that UBI and Free Healthcare programs can only cover so much, seeing as even if you put the load primarily on those above a certain income level, those below it are still going to feel the pinch. God knows I do, every tax season, and even if it's for a fundamentally good cause.
So. Beyond harping that UBI is a basic right and that we all deserve to rest, ask yourself how wealthy your State is, first. Try and model the kind of help you'd be getting. Try projecting it as a deferred hit on your salary or your savings - one that you need to account for year after year, forever.
The social model where none of us work and all of us effectively play with shelter and rest being in-built facets of our social contract would require a total upheaval of our current system - and something tells me most people wouldn't like the transitional period between the two. Would people really maintain power stations or work hospitals just because it's the right thing to do?
Call me cynical, but I've been alive long enough to really, really, seriously doubt that logic. Sooner or later, someone's going to want to look out for Number One. The USSR fell for that very reason, and my own country's very pro-Social policies are rife with examples of what happens when someone with good intentions gets unfettered access to a chequebook, supposedly for the good of all. Remuneration is a great control system, in that respect, especially when we know that in an Egalitarian system, there's always going to be one or two chucklefucks who think they're more Egalitarian than the rest.
Greed is in all of us; the only thing that keeps you or me honest is our lack of power. Money, as they say, is the root of all Evil. Remove money from the equation and something else will take its place. Social status, most likely.
Then let's make all of us equal! Communism FTW!
you're likely American if you're reading this, how do you think most people will react to that kind of assertion?
even in an ideal system, the Overseer would have more power. That, right there, is enough of an imbalance for unfair treatment to surface.
Again, we've seen what happened with Soviet Russia, and I'm not saying this to be a bootlicker. Open a history book: Lenin barely managed to approximate Marx's idea of an Egalitarian state and Stalin identified the cracks in the system and pushed them wide open, priming it for collapse.
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UBI needs to happen. via antiwork
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fungateshortcakes · 12 hours ago
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Tummy ache
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Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES
Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader
Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?
Wordcount: 3.4k
Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight
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Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.
He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.
You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.
You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.
You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.
Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.
In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.
Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.
You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.
Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.
Then why did he avoid you and your baby?
Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.
He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.
As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.
Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.
You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.
Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.
"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.
He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.
"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.
"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.
Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.
Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.
"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.
With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.
The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.
"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.
"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.
"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.
"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.
Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.
He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.
Laura!
You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.
Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-
"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.
Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.
"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"
You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.
"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.
"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.
You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.
"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.
Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.
Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.
Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.
Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.
"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.
You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.
"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.
You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.
He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.
A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.
"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.
You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.
And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.
_______________________________
I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired
Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33
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obxsummer · 3 days ago
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how much do you love me // ghost of you
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pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader
summary: a proposal pogue style gets overshadowed with the arrival of chandler groff. your night goes from celebrating into treasure hunting, and john b and jj are in for the shock of their lives for completely opposite reasons
warnings: little spicy beginning, drug use, mentions of not being able to have kids, pregnancy trope (i still love u, sarah cameron), and i fear you're all about to hate me....
navigation -- series masterlist
ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi
--
JJ found you shortly after you climbed out of the shower, hair wet as you tried to wiggle into a pair of sweatpants. Nothing ever went on easy with damp skin, and your frustration was building faster than you liked to admit. 
“C’mere,” JJ’s tone was soft as he sat on the bed and reached forward for you, helping you tug the ankles over your feet so you could comfortably adjust the fabric without the risk of falling over. He reached forward when you were stable, pulling your waist to bring you closer so he was level with your chest.
“My eyes are up here, Jayj,” You teased and placed your fingers under his chin to reroute his gaze from your lace bralette. The boyish grin told you his attention on your face wouldn’t last long so you needed to move quick. “Hi.”
“Hi,” He mumbled, his hand reaching you to grab the back of your neck and gently pull you down to meet him for a soft kiss. A groan left your lips as his other hand tucked itself on your side, his thumb brushing the skin under your bralette teasingly. 
“Please don’t start something we won’t stop,” You whispered, teeth pulling on his lip slightly. Your skin was still damp and clammy, heating up with every move he made. “They’re gonna be waiting on us.”
JJ hummed, his mouth moving from yours to nip at the dip of your collarbones. If you let him keep going, the two of you would not be leaving this room anytime soon.
“Babe, you- oh,” Your breath caught as he bit down a little too harsh and soothed the skin with the swipe of his tongue. “JJ.”
“Shh,” He shushed you, fingers gently tugging the strap of your bralette off your shoulder so he could get closer to where he really wanted. There were a lot of things running through JJ’s mind right now, but they all centered around you. You with a ring on your finger, bare underneath him after you share a last name. You were going to be his in ways you hadn’t been before.
“You guys hungry?” Sarah at least knocked on the door, her voice interrupting before the two of you could get much further. You smirked as JJ flopped against the bed with a huff. 
“I’m not, but I’m sure JJ is,” You called back, adjusting the strap of your top before shrugging on a cropped long sleeve to cover up any evidence of JJ’s recent actions. Bending down, you gave him one more long kiss before standing back up and patting his thigh lovingly. “Enjoy your cold shower, babe.”
JJ groaned loudly as you left the room, meeting Sarah in the hallway, a knowing smile on her face. She reached up to poke the sore spot on your collarbone and you pulled back with a gasp. “JJ’s hungry, all right,” She laughed, “Hey, I need your help with something, c’mere.”
You followed her into the next room where she had a handful of dresses scattered across the bed. 
“I think John B and I are gonna go to City Hall tomorrow and apply for a marriage license. So, which one should I wear?”
You glanced at her, “Sarah, these are all my dresses.”
She pursed her lips. “Yeah… yeah. Just hypothetically, though, like if you were to wear one, which one?”
You gave her an odd look at her weird attitude before pointing at the one on the bed that you preferred. “Probably this one. Cute but not too formal, you know?”
Sarah nodded and picked it up to hold in front of the two of you. After a moment, she tossed it at your chest. “Try it on for me, I wanna see what it looks like.”
“Then why don’t you-”
“No, no, please.” She pushed you toward the bathroom as you tried to object which didn’t help as she closed the door behind you. You sighed, frustrated from being pulled from JJ to try dresses on that you already owned. 
You pulled your shirt and sweatpants back off and shimmied into the dress per Sarah’s request. Glancing in the mirror, you forgot how much you loved this item. After getting some necessities for everyone in the group post-gold, Sarah insisted on getting some items for you and Cleo to help blend when she went back to her dad’s rental condo since Kie already had some. This happened to be your favorite one you saw that day. It was gorgeous and flattering in every way possible, and you were simply obsessed.
“Okay, here,” You spoke before grabbing the door handle to walk back out. Only, it didn’t budge in the slightest. You frowned and tried wiggling it again, but it didn’t move. “Sarah? I think the door’s stuck.”
Silence followed your words.
“Hello?” You repeated, knocking this time but received nothing in return. “Oh, you bitches.”
It became obvious they were up to something that involved locking you in John B and Sarah’s bathroom with no form of communication or entertainment. You sighed and sat on the floor, leaning your head back against the cabinets as you settled in. Knowing them, you’d be here a while.
You tried to rack your brain for any important date coming up. Your birthday still had a few weeks and was the closest out of anyone in the group, so birthdays were out. No anniversaries, and as far as you know, nobody else got married. Unless this had suddenly turned into a baby shower, you were out of options.
Minutes passed of pure boredom and you were beginning to question if a bath towel would suffice as a comfy blanket only to be spared as the door opened. 
“Finally,” You huffed and got to your feet to see Kiara staring at you. “Where’s Sarah? We suddenly have beef.”
She laughed and took a step in the room despite your wishes. “You look cute. Date night? Let me fix your hair.”
You shook your head, now completely confused. “What? No, we-”
There was no room to argue as Kiara started digging through all of Sarah’s hair supplies. She quickly set to work, avoiding most conversations with you and letting her phone play music to satisfy your desire for noise. Soon, she’d completed your favorite hairstyle, the one she used to practice all the time when you were younger. 
She caught your gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Cute.” She shrugged and walked out without another word. 
Your jaw dropped as you watched her form disappear, utter confusion left in her place. “What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself and walked out of the bathroom. The house was oddly silent and your heart started racing. 
Cleo hopped out of her room a second later. “Well shit, where you going looking so sweet?”
You shrugged. Either she was in on it, or at least played it off better than the others. “No idea. You know something I don’t?”
Cleo clicked her tongue. “Not a chance, girly. But what I do know, is you need some shoes.”
You should’ve seen it coming and took the outstretched pair of your shoes from her hands to slip on your feet. Shaking your head, you continued down the stairs in hopes that whatever secret they were hiding would pop out soon.
You peeked around the corner to see Pope in the kitchen with his back to you. You let out a breath, hoping your confusion would end here. “Hey, what is-”
He flipped around with a creepy smile on his own face, his attempt at not being suspicious.
You rolled your eyes. “Alright, what?”
Pope held out the infamous purple bandana that was usually around your brother’s neck. “Blindfold time.”
Disgust took over your face as he came closer with the fabric. “Pope, please tell me you at least washed it first? Please say yes. What the fuck.” You could smell fresh laundry detergent and sighed in relief. 
He wrapped the fabric around your eyes, making sure it was secure but not too tight. Waving his hand in front of your face, you didn’t move in the slightest, but you were a little too rigid for his liking so he grabbed your hand instead. “I’m right here, won’t let anything happen.”
You nodded, trying to keep your racing thoughts at bay and let Pope guide you slowly. The chill of outside settled in soon after and you gripped his hand a little tighter. 
“I’m so kicking your ass for this later,” You grumbled, your steps awkward as you tried to navigate a terrain you couldn’t see. You tried listening for anything out of the ordinary but came up empty-handed. “All of you, actually. Asses are grass.”
Pope laughed quietly, his other hand grabbing your open one as he guided you down a few stairs. “Remember when we would play hide and seek as kids and you’d always pick the same spot?”
You smiled at the memory. “Yeah, and you’d never let me win because of it. Always checked the stupid cabinet first.”
Pope squeezed your hands reassuringly. “Couldn’t let that ego get too big so young, you’d be even more like JJ than you already are. Gotta hand you off, that okay?”
You hummed in agreement and Pope slowly let go before another pair of hands took over your hold. 
“Bandana smell good for once?”
You clocked John B’s voice instantly and attempted to hit him, but missed. “You’re an asshole, I thought I was going to suffocate to death when Pope first told me.”
John B laughed, “You can thank Sarah for that one.”
“Figured,” You mumbled, “Don’t think you’ve done your own laundry since ever.” 
You could hear the noise of your steps changing from the grass to wood, meaning your brother was guiding you down the dock. The movement of the water was much louder now.
“Hey, I love you, yeah?” John B asked and you nodded in return, agreeing with his statement. “Do me a favor and try not to scream, okay?”
You froze as John B let go to undo the bandana from around your eyes, even though you had them pinched shut in anticipation. Your brother squeezed your upper arms lightly and you finally forced your eyes to open.
Despite his wishes, you did scream before covering your own mouth to quiet the noise. The covered portion of the dock was covered in its usual white Christmas lights, which wasn’t new. What was new, was the handful of flower petals leading up to the person standing under the lights.
“Girl, you crazy? Go get him!” Someone laughed at Cleo’s comment, and you shook your head, still in shock at the sight before you knowing they would be hiding somewhere nearby to watch this go down. 
You took off, shoes smacking loudly against the wooden platform to meet JJ who opened his arms and caught you with ease. You pulled back slightly to kiss him, your actions having a much different meaning than earlier.
JJ set you down gently and before he could even speak, you were nodding your head. He chuckled, “You’re not even gonna let me ask the question before agreeing?”
You let out a teary laugh. “Doesn’t matter, answer is yes.”
“Okay, well I was actually asking if you would stop taking long ass showers so-”
You pushed him lightly, your fingers shaking with adrenaline. “J.”
He shook his head and kneeled down in front of you, which caused another round of tears and you nearly choked at the sight of him. JJ Maybank would never get down on his knees for someone, but apparently, you were and would continue to be the exception to that rule. 
“I um… you know I suck at putting emotions into words, and I already gave John B the speech of my life-”
“You prepared better for my brother than me?” You teased and brushed tears from your cheeks. “Should’ve known you always wanted him.”
JJ nearly flipped you off in response but opted for a roll of his eyes instead. “Baby, are you seriously talking about your brother while I’m trying to propose?”
You gaped at him in disbelief. “You started it!” “Alright, alright,” JJ laughed and reached into his pocket to grab the ring. “Look. I know so much has happened in our lives, and shit will continue to hit the fan, but… you have made every day of our time together so worth it. You’re the reason I get out of bed, even when there’s so much I want to hide from. You’re the reason try to come home every night, to hold you and know it’ll be okay. You continue to be the reason I believe in love, after growing up in a world without it, and.. and I don’t know what I would do without you, and I don’t plan to find out, obviously. There’s so many promises I’ve yet to make, and there’s so much I owe to you, and I’m just gonna shut up before my leg goes numb so, will you marry me?”
Heart racing, you reached for JJ’s hand and a flicker of confusion crossed his face before he grabbed it and stood up to his full height again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shifted closer. “There is actually nothing in the world that I want more than to marry you. Where you go, I go, yeah?”
JJ barely cried, but the words were enough to push him over the edge and he quickly leaned down to kiss you in a way he hadn’t before. You fell in, melting into his hands like it was where you belonged. You could hear the faint cheers of your family behind you when the two of you pulled away, JJ taking the opportunity to slide the ring onto your left hand.
You gasped at the ring, eyes meeting his in shock, and you swore you were going to hit the ground at any second. “Where did you find this?”
JJ smiled, his thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks as he held your face softly. “You can thank Sarah for that one.”
Your bottom lip quivered at the sight of your mom’s ring resting on your hand. This ring had once meant family and promise, but it couldn’t hold up to that, no matter how much you wished it did. But with JJ in front of you, and your friends storming their way down to celebrate, you knew the story was about to change…. all because of you.
--
You didn’t ask who stole the alcohol, and quite frankly, you didn’t care because it was making you bubbly and warm inside. Your guess was Sarah raided whatever remained at her dad’s rental condo, considering there was a bottle of champagne in your hands and someone had a gnarly bottle of vodka somewhere in the room.
JJ was standing against the counter in front of you, your arms wrapped securely around his chest as his hand lightly traced the skin of your leg. You lazily leaned against him, glancing at your hand every so often to see the gems staring back at you. JJ would smile each time and squeeze your knee. You didn’t want to leave his side, and thankfully none of your friends would even try.
The scroll that John B had snagged from the mercenaries was laid across the table, Pope’s eyes looking over it closely. Cleo was snuggled into his side, whispering her own thoughts and ideas as they looked over the paper.
Kie handed you the newly lit joint. “To the happy couple,” She offered, bowing for emphasis which had you and JJ laughing.
You took it between your fingers and raised it to your lips to inhale before the blond boy in your arms turned to face you. You shook your head, already knowing where he was going before glancing to see where John B was in the room. Noticing he was occupied with Sarah, you took a deep inhale and held it for a moment before leaning to connect your lips to JJ’s, exhaling the smoke into his mouth.
“Oh, you assholes.” The protest came from Kiara who was still standing next to you, her face contorted in disgust.
You didn’t care though, and when JJ’s eyes met yours, the whole world disappeared. This was the start of your future together, of a new chapter in your lives that outweighed any before, and you were so excited to share it with him.
Kie rolled her eyes and took the joint back from you, pausing long enough to squeeze your arm. “Love you guys.”
“We love you, Kie,” You replied, giving her an appreciative smile before she walked away. JJ pulled the bottle of champagne from next to you and took a hefty sip, attempting to focus on the scene in front of him. 
“So, what are we supposed to do with this? It looks like a trippy mosaic.” Sarah pointed to the map in confusion, unable to read a single thing on the worn paper. 
“Decode it,” Your boyfriend, fiancé, answered her question. “That’s what we’re supposed to do.” He shifted out of your embrace to approach the table. You followed his motions to stand next to him, taking in the confusing document before you wrapped JJ’s jacket tighter around you.
“But…how?”
“With the code breaker, that’s how.” JJ plucked the joint back from Kiara’s fingers as he spoke. He took a hit before passing it to John B who did the same. You watched as your brother unconsciously passed it to Sarah, the blonde girl taking it into her grasp absentmindedly. 
You and Kiara acted instantly; Kie gave her a weird look as you cleared your throat in warning. Sarah’s eyes widened and she apologized, moving to hand the item back to Kiara, almost burning her in the process. Cleo watched the three of you skeptically, always paying attention, unlike the boys around you. You caught her eyes on you and opened your mouth to explain.
Thankfully, something clattered outside, creating enough of a distraction to save you all from an awkward explanation.
“What was that?” Pope asked quietly, silence overtaking the room. JJ shifted slightly, moving to stand in front of you as all eyes looked out the back windows where the commotion was coming from. 
To your dismay, the boys moved first, JJ’s shirt slipping out of your hold as you took a step toward Cleo, Kie shifting closer to Sarah. 
“I knew we shouldn’t have come back here,” Kie whispered as JJ and John B grabbed nearby ores in hopes of having some defense over whatever was out there. Cleo plucked her knife from her side, twirling it expertly between her fingers. You admired her bravery, as she was never one to let fear show on her face. 
Kiara tossed John B’s flannel over the map, a poor attempt at hiding it, but you guessed it was better than nothing. 
“What are you doing?” Pope was startled as John B slowly pushed open the door, a creaking noise filling the room. 
“Anything?” JJ asked a little bit louder when all you could hear were the animals chirping away outside. 
“No, nothing. That’s so weird.” Your brother slowly closed the doors. “It kind of sounded like it was-”
A loud crashing noise pulled a scream from Kie, all of you gasping in shock as none other than Chandler Groff stumbled his way inside.
Cleo’s grasp on your arm lightened but she held her knife steady toward the man as he gave mumbled apologies. If your heart wasn’t racing before, it sure as shit was now. 
The unwelcome visitor turned his attention to the boy behind you. “JJ. You made it. I uh, I’m sorry to bother you here. I swam, I swam all the way in.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah breathed in shock, taking the opportunity to move closer to John B for comfort.
You turned to see JJ’s expression drop, annoyance taking over all his features as he watched the man who claimed to be his real dad lean against the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
Groff shook his head, clearing his throat with a loud cough that made you flinch. “I had nowhere… nowhere else to go, son.”
The name made JJ wince slightly and you suddenly wanted to rewind to 5 minutes ago when all of you were much happier and celebrating something positive. You watched carefully as his face went stoic and he leaned the ore against the wall, shifting past you to loop an arm under Groff’s and help him inside. 
John B turned to you with a look and all you could really do was shrug in response. You obviously weren’t thrilled with what was supposed to be a night for the two of you was suddenly out of your hands. 
Groff clambered messily into a chair as JJ went to reach for water from the fridge. You stood quietly, watching the scene with uncertainty. Sarah had come to join your other side, Cleo still on guard next to you. She didn’t trust this man, and honestly, neither did you. And now he’s running to you guys for help?
You walked up to JJ, your palm easing across his back to his shoulder blades. He didn’t seem happy about Groff being here, making you question what had happened on Goat Island before you arrived. Neither of you really had a chance to talk about it, and you regretted not checking in with him prior.
“Is it true?” Your question was quiet, meant to be shared with only you and JJ. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
“Is it true that I’m JJ’s biological father? Yes.”
Your gaze was sharp as you regarded the man sitting just across from you. “I wasn’t asking you.”
Groff sighed and looked down. “I don’t deserve the title. And you have a right not to trust me, I understand. I could’ve done better by him, I know that. I look forward to telling you all about it.”
JJ shook his head, turning toward you so he didn’t have to stare at the sight in front of him and could redirect his gaze on you. Your hand dropped from his back, unconsciously following down his arm so you could twist your fingers with his, keeping him close. 
“I’m afraid time is short. We’re all in danger here. Let me guess,” He pointed over your shoulder to where John B had tossed the tube that contained the rolled map. “You open that packing tube over there and find a scroll inside, but you can’t read it. That scroll is encrypted.”
“How do you know that?” John B returned.
“Because if you took that from the Corsairs, I suspect that you are in possession of the Mogador scroll, created by Barbary pirates in 1703. The Lupine Corsairs are dangerous mercenaries. Now you’ve stolen from them.”
You rolled your eyes, having zero interest in this man’s monologue. If you were in danger, having him here did not help in the slightest. 
“Okay, so what exactly is this Mogador?” Pope asked. If anyone could put together the pieces of this, it would be him.
“It’s…a map.”
Cleo almost groaned next to you. “We aware of that, man. To where?”
Groff continued, “Well, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be a very rich man. But I can tell you who made it. Murad the Younger.”
The name sparked in your head, familiar but not quite recognizable. You glanced at John B to see him already looking at you. “Murad?” He repeated. 
“Oh, you know him? Groff asked, looking between the two of you. “Barbary pirate, slaver. In 1703, a Berber shepherd gave Murad a gold coin as tribute. He asked the shepherd where he’d gotten the coin, and after some persuasion, the Berber told him about a hidden vault in the desert filled with gold. And one other very special item.”
“The Blue Crown,” John B answered softly.
Groff turned to him, curious. “So, you know what it is?”
Sarah cleared her throat purposefully as your brother tried to back track. “Uh, it’s uh… my dad was a historian.”
“It was practically a bedtime story,” You tried to reinforce John B’s excuse and shot him a look.
“What is it though? The crown thing?” Kie asked as she pulled herself up on the table next to Sarah. 
“A mythical artifact,” Groff explained, “And if you trust the legends, a dangerous weapon capable of granting wishes and rendering enemies defenseless.”
You almost scoffed at the ridiculous reasoning, but Cleo was happy to voice her skepticism, “And you believe that?”
Groff shook his head. “No, of course not, but it’s invaluable. I’m looking for it just like you, and if I could help you find it, I’d… just want to get my cut. Nothing more.”
“If they found it 300 years ago, there’s no way that magic cap is still there,” JJ said, his foot nudging yours gently. 
“Maybe, maybe not. See Murad was encamped in Essaouira, in what’s now Morocco. Before he had a chance to follow the map, it was stolen by a young woman named Elizabeth Howell, who later became Blackbeard’s future wife. He helped her elude her captors, and the two of them escaped to the Carolinas with the map. The rest of their lives they wondered, was there really a vault in the desert that held the crown? On the day he died-”
“He left Elizabeth with the map,” Sarah cut him off, her boredom winning as you all listened to this man ramble. 
Groff nodded. “And now, you have it. But you can’t read it, right? You need a lens, a special lens. A piece of refracted crystal encased with a chain. Elizabeth Teach had that lens when she was killed at Blackstone.”
You exchanged a glance with JJ before facing Chandler. “So, let me guess. You uh, you have that lens.”
He made a dramatic effort to act all upset and looked down. “Not in my possession, no. But I know where it is.”
JJ squeezed your hand slightly. “Where?”
“Your mother’s grave.”
You groaned softly, dropping JJ’s hand to cover your face and rub at the skin like it could wash away all of your annoyance with this conversation. All of this history talk was making your brain hurt and you really, really didn’t like that you’d lost this entire night to JJ’s supposed dad who had no business showing up here. 
“I, um, I’m gonna go to bed,” You excused yourself, giving JJ a rushed kiss before almost running out of the room. Various chatter followed your departure, but you swung yourself up the stairs without another word. Stopping in John B and Sarah’s room to grab your clothes from earlier, you were quick to change into the comfy attire and retreat to your hammock on the balcony, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet. 
“Babe?” JJ wasn’t very far behind you, coming out to stand over you as you settled into the material. “You okay?”
You sighed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes as the alcohol and weed wore off, leaving you slightly buzzed and just tired. “Yeah, just didn’t wanna keep listening to him.”
JJ reached out for you, his hand grabbing yours as you swayed slowly. “This is not how I imagined this night going. Was supposed to celebrate with you, in every way possible.” He leaned down to rub his nose against yours gently, eliciting a small laugh before you kissed him softly.
“Not your fault,” You whispered. “Please tell me someone’s down there with him.”
JJ brushed a hair from your face gently. “Pope’s picking his brain while Cleo plays guard dog. Sarah said she needed to talk to John B.”
You nodded, hoping she was talking to him about what you thought she would be. “Are you okay?”
The hesitation told you that no, he wasn’t, but he didn’t know what else to do. JJ took the opportunity to slide into the hammock next to you, practically flopping on you so his head rested on your chest, and you welcomed the embrace. He was so warm against you and you truly cherished the moment as the first one you two had shared alone after the proposal.
“Love you,” You whispered quietly, leaning to kiss his head as your fingers sorted through his hair. 
“Love you too.”
--
John B was a shit liar. You had been able to clock him so easily growing up, and unfortunately (for him), Sarah was just as good at it.
So when Sarah came into the room and very shakily asked to talk to him, he was nervous. He didn’t know what she was going to ask, or say, and he wasn’t mentally prepared. But she seemed really scared, so he couldn’t say no. 
“I’m pregnant.”
The words practically smacked him in the face, his whole body going into shock as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. Sarah, his Sarah, pregnant. 
“You’re pregnant?” He repeated the phrase, keeping his tone as neutral as possible even though a little bit of shock slipped in. He wasn’t sure how she felt about this and wanted to tread carefully. She was teary and nodded. “You’re… pregnant?”
“Mhmm,” She answered, her whole body filled with nerves. Sarah had been through so much shit, but she could confidently say this was the scariest moment of her life that regarded her relationship with John B.
The idea was starting to visualize in his head and he nodded. “We’re pregnant.”
Sarah’s heart clenched in her chest. “Yeah.”
“O-okay. Um…”
“I’m really, really scared,” She admitted shakily, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to do this, I know you don’t know how to do this. And we’re… so young. And I know the timing’s probably terrible. And I know you and JJ wanna go after that crown, but-”
“Hey, come here. I’ve got you.” John B shushed her, gently pulling her into his lap as she sobbed, terrified of what was to come. 
She sunk into his arms, shaking as she hugged him tightly against her. “I’m just really scared, I was really scared to tell you, but your sister said I should, and…”
John B nearly choked on his own air at the mention of you knowing. “She knows?”
Sarah pulled back a little to look at him, nodding. “Yeah, she’s the first one I told.”
Your brother nearly threw up at the idea, knowing you hadn’t told him which meant you’d been keeping enough bottled up since whenever you found out. “Oh, shit.”
Sarah frowned at his identical reaction to Kie. “What?”
John B shook his head. “No, nothing, it’s-”
“No.” Sarah gave him a particular look, one that froze him in his spot and usually got her the answer she was looking for. “Why does everyone react with oh shit when they hear that she knows?”
John B took a deep breath and weighed his options. Either he told Sarah the truth and sent her into a guilty spiral with the information, or he told her to ask you and watched her feel even worse when the news came from you.
“I um…” John B tilted his head back with a sigh, keeping his hands anchored on Sarah’s hips to hold her steady as she repeated his name. “She… when we were at the church, in Charleston, I asked her what had happened before we left. I didn’t know it was Rafe at the time, but she started asking me all these questions about our conversation on the ferry and kids, and-”
“John B,” Sarah interrupted him softly, recalling his focus.
“She can’t…she can’t have kids.”
Sarah’s heart nearly shattered in her chest and the tears built up all over again. “What?” Her voice cracked as she looked at John B, his own eyes teary at the repetition of your conversation in his head. “Are.. is she sure?”
John B nodded. “It was, after everything with Rafe, when we were gone a-and-”
Sarah stood abruptly, her brother’s name enough to make her lunch threaten to come back up. “I’ve gotta talk to her.”
“Wait, wait!”
John B took off after her, following her rushed steps as she climbed the stairs with the intention of getting to you. “Sarah, wait!”
Sarah wished she had listened. She wished she had taken a moment to stop and think about what she would say to you, because the moment she opened your door, she was met with JJ’s raised voice. She was met with JJ, standing in the middle of the room, his loud frustration directed at your crying form that was across from him.
But that wasn’t what made Sarah so nervous.
It was the pregnancy test, the one she had taken earlier, in JJ’s hand, the two positive lines staring back at her as he pointed it at you with an intention that made her want to throw up. 
And when Sarah made eye contact with you, she realized how truly, truly fucked up this whole thing was about to be.
--
a/n: so.... i'm sorry?
anyway, listen to how much do you love me by kelsea ballerini
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melioraskz · 3 days ago
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Rather be your whore than a noble man’s wife.
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A/N : I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… this wasn’t based on anything in particular and is definitely not historically accurate, this is just another universe LOL!
Warning : brief mention of SA, mentions of whores, homophobia (not by any of the characters, just mentioned in a backstory!), giving head (female receiving), tiny hint of overstimulation, almost caught in the act, probably forgot something lol ! NOT PROOFREAD !!!
(Pirate) Han Jisung x (afab) Reader
Summary : After being captured by a gang of bandits you get saved by a mysterious man called Jisung, what you don’t know is that he is in fact something your parents always warned you for, a pirate.
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“Stay away from me!”
“Wow wow wow little lady, relax. I’m not going to harm you” the man in front of you said with his hands up in the air in surrender despite the small yet devilishly sharp knife still laid between his thumb and index finger.
“Do you want my help or not?” He asked, raising a brow as he looked at you up and down.
“I’ve got everything under control, thank you very much” you spat back, sighing deeply as you try to once again squirm out of the tight robe that was around your body and hands.
Everything was in fact not under control. There you were, bound to the pole, hands tied behind your back and hair stuck to your face with the sweat from your forehead, breathing heavy with your dress half cut up by the bandits who took you capture. Despite their desperate tries you had manage to keep them away from you enough for them to not take it further than some disgusting groping and touched here and there. However despite your deadly looks you shot their way it couldn’t take away the looks of desire they shot in your direction as another one tried to cut off a button of your blouse…
The aggravating man who had jumped on board of the ship all cocky started to whistle as he sat up on the edge of the boat, carelessly taking the knife and removed some dirt under his finger nails. “Just let me know when you need my help, missy” he sung, acting all nonchalantly as if he wasn’t also on a bandit ship, all alone against the 30 men that could show up any second. Not that you had any hope that he would survive one of the men for that matter. They were all buff, scary with scars everywhere, you could tell they were up to no good. This guy? He was skinny, lanky built, curly brown hair and despite his aura feeling like he would be a big man… he was quite a short guy.
“Fine, just get me out of here before they come back” you mutter, the guy looking up at you, stopping mid-through the melody he was whistling. Then he shook his head and his lips left a few of tsk tsk tsk to show his displeasure. “What sort of lady are you? Not even a simple please? I’ve met whores down at the red district with more charm and politeness than you” he stated and rose a brow. That awful awful cockiness would drive you mad but you were desperate.
“Please can you help me out of these fucking ropes? I’m not planning on becoming these bandits slave or sex toy” you state, earning a pleased smirk by the mysterious guy who by ease jumped down from the edge and walked up to you. He then easily cut off the rope using the knife before he put it back into the holder in his belt.
“There we go, now I suggest we leave before those idiots come back” he says, a smug smile on his lips. Within a second you had stepped away from the damn pole, singing deeply as you rubbed your previously tied up wrists with your hands to ease the irritation that the rope had caused. “Thanks” you sigh, walking over to the edge and looked out at the dock, multiple ships stood there and you could hear the muffled sounds of parties and people if you looked out to the town ahead of you… “where even are we?” You sigh, not sure where they had taken you, surely from the accent of the man it was far away from your home…
“Welcome to Incheon city, ma’am! The place filled with dreams, nightmares, whores, pirates and a great amount of cheap alcohol” the man burst out, now somehow standing on the edge walking around as if it wasn’t a 10 meter drop down to the ice cold water below. “Oh fuck! I’m Jisung, by the way, Han Jisung” he added. “It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?” He asked proudly.
You were about to answer when you heard a voice behind you.
“She has escaped!” A roaring man’s voice yelled as he had climbed up the ladder on the other side. You remembered that man very well, after all he had tried to fuck you at least seven times since your capture a few days ago. Along with him came 4 others, you look back at Jisung with panicked eyes, but you were met by a pair of awfully calm ones. He let out a sigh in displeasure, almost as if he thought the whole ordeal were just bothersome.
“Alright boys, let’s say after me” Jisung started, grabbing one of the robes that the bandits used to climb up to the watch tower. “If you are despite to get a quick fuck, go to a whore house, not kidnap someone” he then continued, cutting the rope off with the knife he had previously used on the ropes that had you tied up. Then before the men could reach you he swung in the rope, using his legs and made 2 of the men fall to the ground in a loud groan. That’s when he grabbed both of the men’s revolvers, tossing one of them to you, which you catch in pure panic. Looking at the man, he easily got all men on the floor, despise them being twice his weight. “Close those pretty eyes for me, pretty lady” Jisung instructed, as if it was an instinct you did exactly like he said and as soon as your eyelids had fallen down so all you saw was darkness the ship echoed with a shot, another another, another and-
“All done, missy” a voice said, opening your eyes you saw the men’s lifeless bodies on the wooden floor, blood painting the deck that poured out of their head. It wasn’t the first time you had ever encountered a dead body before but it was certainly the first time seeing so much blood at the same time, despite being outside you swore you could smell the stench of iron in the red dark liquid ahead of you. Jisung however didn’t give you the luxury to take in the scene for more than a few second, he had other plans. He grabbed the rope he had used before and swung in it, grabbing your waist as you let out a screech, holding onto him with all dear might. You were certain you’d fall straight into the ice cold water below but before you could think twice you felt your feet hit a steady familiar sensation. You open your eyes you had no clue that you even closed in the first place and there you were, still holding onto the man with all your might but standing on the ground below…
“We should leave before more men come back and notice the tiny little mess I caused on their ship” he stated, you realise how damn close he was to your body… your heart beating fast in your chest, perhaps it was the adrenaline of being rescued or seeing the dead bodies that flooded through you, perhaps it was for the fact that this bold man had laid his hands on you and it wasn’t for the wrong intentions, at least that’s what you thought it was?
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The music was loud, people chit chattering even louder, women with dresses that enhances the chest area was practically fucking some men in the corners. But after what you went through? The dodgy bar that Jisung took you to was a luxury hotel from what you had been dealing with capture at that ship…
You get snapped out of your thoughts with about bang, in front of you stood now a large pint of beer, fizzing and foaming up to the edges. Jisung then sat down and took a large chunk of his own pint he still held in his hand. “There we go, don’t worry, the beer is on me. I figured you’d need it after that whole experience. I doubt those shitheads knows how to feed a lady” he stated, chuckling a bit, using the other chair next to him as a stand for his feet as he let out a groan in relief. “Now, what was that name of yours? I didn’t get catch it last time”
“My name?”
“Your name”
“Oh, right. It’s Y/N, Y/L/N Y/N” you whispered. When you said your surname you saw how Jisung choked on his beer, almost spitting it out again in shock. He hit his chest repeatedly until the beer had gone down the right pipe again.
“Fucking hell? As in the Y/L/N-clan? You’re their daughter? You’re a fucking high class noble woman! How the fuck did you end up captured by them then? Isn’t that miles and miles away?” He asked. Looking at you with huge eyes, the foam of the beer had given him a light moustache. You let out a slight giggle from the look on his face, then you take a big chunk of your own beer.
“I ran away, they set you marry me away 4 days ago, that night I couldn’t take it, I hated that old man they set me up with, he was at least three times my age but the wallet weight more than my family’s love for me I suppose. What I didn’t calculate for was that I’d be captured in the middle of the night by those men who had no idea who I was, so they said they’d keep me as their whore, slave or both. I sailed stuck to that pole until this evening, so thank you for saving me, I wish I could repay you but I don’t have anything of worth on me” you whispered, feeling a flood of guilt flush over you, he had saved your life and you couldn’t even repay him?
“I’m not asking for a payment, Y/N. I saved you because I felt like it, not from the goodness of my heart, not from whatever your noble brain can come up with, I saved you because I was bored and saw you on their deck. Alright? No need to pay me” he stated. Crossing his feet over the other on the chair next to him.
“But there must be something-“
“Enough. I don’t need anything I promise, we’re alright” he said quickly. Looking directly into your eyes. You could feel your heart beat faster again… it could possibly not be adrenaline now, right? For sure he is handsome, but is he even your type? Do you even have a type?
“So what will happen with you now? I’d say get a new dress is your first option, you can’t walk around with your tits almost hung out unless you want someone to accuse you for being a whore” Jisung stated, which made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You quickly tried to gather the material that was left from what the men had cut off, looking down at your ripped and ruined clothings...
“I have no money and nowhere to go, but do not worry about me, I’ll find a way” I say calmly, smiling in a reassuring manner, even if you were terrified. When you had ran away from home you had no plan, you just knew you had to get out of there before it was too late…
“I may have an old dress or two for you to get, neither of my mates will mind, it’s not like they walk around in a skirt ever..”
“Your mates?”
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Your chest was beating faster than ever, you felt like you’d pass out any moment…
“You’re a pirate?”
Your entire life your parents had warned you about the pirates that hunted the seven seas. They took what they wanted, murdered, fucked the women and ran off, your father had always said if you ever had the displease of coming a cross a pirate run away and don’t look back before you call the local sheriff. Perhaps if you had heard about this before he rescued you, you’d agree to your father’s words but now? Especially after spending a couple hours with the man you had come to quite enjoy his company. A sexy man who seemed charming enough with perhaps a bit too big of an ego than you’d like, how could he be such a criminal? Being a pirate is a death sentence if you get caught, you won’t even get a trial? Why would this man choose this path of life?
“What did you expect?” Jisung asked in an amused tone as he practically carried you up the rope to his ship, placing you down on the edge of the ships railing, letting you sit there as he climbed on the other side and then carried you bridal style over to the deck where he sat you down carefully.
“I thought you-“
“Were a man of honour and prosperity? Ma’am you’ve come to the wrong place if you’re looking for a hero or a good man” he stated as he fumbled up a key that was hooked on a piece of string around his neck underneath his shirt. He then unlocked the giant trap door leading to the inside of the ship. You both climb down there, you were met by the stench of rum and seawater which made you make a slight grimace.
“We should have some women’s clothing down here from when we raided this noble family all the way in Busan. Like fuck you should have seen those dumb posh faces when-“ he stopped himself, realising that you may take offence by his harsh words about the upper class since he now knew you were upper class as well. “Sorry..”
“No offence taken. To be quite frank, there is a reason I left that place, no money in the world could make me feel happy in that hell. I may have lived in a mansion but that mansion was a jail impossible to break out of in my eyes” you say, sighing deeply as you start to look around through bits and bobs that was scattered around the room. “To be honest I’m envying you. You’re free, away from responsibilities, marriage, birthing children, preferably sons and don’t even get me started on the dreadful gatherings, all the noble ladies wanted to speak about was money of men. I’m tired of it..” you say, slowly turning to a desk with a bunch of documents and paper on it, on the top of a shelf that stood right above the desk was a picture in a frame of 8 young men next to the very ship they were in right now, you could easily pick out where Jisung were despite the low resolution of the picture, with his arm around one of the other guys with a huge smile on his mouth.
“That’s my crew, you see the one with the hat is our leader, or captain, Chan is his name. It started when him and I met all the way in Australia where we stole this glory out of some poor bastard who used it for the queens guards, we decorated it and then before we could leave Australia we met this poor bloke called Felix who joined us” Jisung explained, then pointing at a guy with long bright hair who was winking with one eye. “He already had a huge penny on his head at home after his father found out he was a homosexual, we took him in, we don’t give a fuck who he sticks his dick inside, he is our brother nonetheless” he stated.
“That’s very beautiful if you ask me. You claim to be a bad person but a bad person wouldn’t do that” you explained slowly, looking at him, realising he stood right behind you, with his head almost hanging over your shoulder so that he also could view the old frame, you slowly chew on the inside of your cheek… he really was handsome for a pirate… Han clear his throat before he continues, slowly feeling a bit unease by her words, why would a lady like her truly find him, a criminal, that good?
“Well we figured as we were going to be pirates we already would have a straight way to the gallons if caught, adding hiding a gay man on the list didn’t seem too bad” Jisung stated, looking at you for a few seconds before his eyes quickly turn to the picture again.
“And that’s Seungmin and Jeongin, we met them finally enough at that raid in Busan, they joined us quickly, they’re young but extremely fun and always tells the best stories when we are up late at night around a campfire” he explains with a slight smile. “Oh and that’s Changbin, Hyunjin and Minho. Minho is second captain after Chan, he is also the head cook, probably the only one of us that can actually cook well. Changbin is also the fastest at climbing ropes you’ll ever see! I swear we have accused him of being a witch at least fourteen times!” He explained, smiling at himself as he thought of his dear friends. “And a little secret, we are fairly sure that Felix has had sex with Hyunjin before, we don’t know when but there is something with the way they act…However, whenever we try to get some information out of them they bulge, what a dumb bunch for thinking we’d judge them” he explained and laughed. “They’re all dumb but… they’re the only family I have left”
“Where are they now then?” You ask, realising you hadn’t even seen a trace of any of the said men since you entered the ship.
“Oh they’re in town, probably getting fucked up with all the alcohol, that was my plan too until… yeah” Jisung admitted. “I’m sorry for ruining your plans, Jisung” you sigh as you quickly turn around, face as close as it could be without touching from each other, his eyes looking almost black in front of you due to the lack of light in there… your heart racing faster and faster, he was dangerously close to you, with one hand resting on the shelf behind you, trapping you between the desk and his body…
“Trust me… I’m glad I had my plans changed, otherwise I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you” Jisung whisper, you can feel his breath against your skin, keeping you eyes at him you slowly placed one hand on his chest that was slightly exposed due to the buttons he had unbuttoned. You swore you could see a slight smirk on his lips perk up. You could feel his hand that wasn’t against the shelf behind you travel to your lower back in a firm get gentle grip.
Before you could even think of what you were doing, you kissed him. You didn’t know what went through your head fuck you liked it. You could taste the beer you had previously had in your mouth as the kiss progressed, deepening and becoming more rough as you became familiar with each other. He hadn’t even questioned it as he had kissed you back the moment your lips met his.
The kiss was hot, breathy, yet you felt more relaxed with this man than you had ever done with a man at home. You felt how his hand that was on the shelf met your hip on the opposite side as the other before he easily lift up up and placed your ass on the table behind you. Then for a moment he broke the kiss before his mouth traveled along your mouth down to your neck and collarbone. You let a moan slip through your lips, the only sound echoing through the walls was the sounds of your heavy breaths along with whatever sound the sea could make from the shore.
His mouth leads its way back to yours, unable to stay away from it for too long. You let your tongue run over his bottom lip and he opens his mouth for you. When you feel his tongue meet yours, blistering electricity shocks down your spine in pure lust. You kiss him harder, his tongue mapping out every inch of yours as if he is in search of the lost treasure in there. He pulls your legs apart so he can stand right between them, feeling his body pressed against yours. You let his hands roam your body, then as he grabs some of the poor material that still held your chest in decent coverage and you hear a loud skrratch. That fucker tore it! As if it was barely anything to tore anyways… his hands cupped your breasts, breathing heavy into your mouth. His hands was fucking cold, but oh it felt so good. He then stop kissing you for a moment, looking into your eyes as both tried to desperately catch your breaths. The tension was electrifying.
“Can I fuck you?” He ask out of the blue after a few seconds of being silence.
As the words left his mouth it took you by a surprise, asking that question when your tits was already free for him when you had willingly had him like this. Almost a comedic moment and a rather funny timing on his part. Instead of answering you grabbed his shirt, giving him a wet kiss on the mouth. He took that sentence as a yes.
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
You had never met a pirate before, let alone fucked one. But there you were. He had somehow managed to move you from the desk to the floor. His shirt tossed somewhere along the way along with his trousers. Your upper part of the dress torn a long time ago but your long skirt still intact, him? He was under your skirt between your legs, licking long stripes on your pussy, holding his strong hands around your thighs, partly for keeping you from closing them around him, partly because himself needed something to hold on to.
Your moans echoed through the room, your legs trembling as you covered your upper part of the face with your hand, moaning louder. His mouth doing wonders down there as you were slowly feeling like you’ll reach your peak any moment now.
“I’m gonna cum, Jisung” you breathe out, heavy breaths making it almost impossible for you to say a full sentence.
“Then cum for me, darling” he growled from under your skirt, a loud slap echoed as you felt his hand slap ass. That slap was almost like the last thing you needed, you felt the knotting feeling in your lower stomach build up to the point where it overflow. You let out a breath of pleasure as you came, breathing heavy as you tried to catch your breath. You felt how Jisung kept licking up every single drop of you, feeling your legs turn into jelly as you tried to catch your high along with handling the overstimulation happening.
That’s when you heard it…
“Why is it unlocked?”
“I don’t know”
Then you heard a click, they’re loading their revolver…
Jisung knew that voice extremely well, so the panic arose even faster. He quickly got out of your skirt, his lips glossy from your fluids. “Fuck fuck fuck” he whispered, trying to gather his clothes.
“Guys it’s just me” he yelled, hoping if they were faster than him it would lead to at least them not being shot. That’s when he also tossed one of the dresses he promised you your way, quickly trying to put on his trousers. You act fast as well, doing everything in your power to get the damn dress on and you threw the old dress into a pile of hay in the corner. If you had more time to think perhaps it would be more melodramatic, throwing away the last piece of your old life as if it was nothing. But now? You had no time to think.
You signalled to the halfway dressed man to help you with the zipper in the back. Jisung went right into action, rushing over to you, managing with a trembling hand to get the zipper up right in time for…
“Who’s that?” A voice Said, you remembered him from the picture, that’s Chan, the captain.
“Oh!” Jisung said, clearing his throat, quickly wiping his mouth from whatever excess that was left from you. “This is Miss Y/N. I.. I- uh-“ Jisung said in panic, not sure how to explain to his captain what the fuck he had been doing down here. “I-I was lending her one of our dresses, it’s not like we use them right? I accidentally ruined hers by dropping beer on it” he lies, giving the captain a half sided smile. “But now as you can see she is in the dress so I’ll just go ahead and help her off the ship, thanks” he said and practically pushed you up the ladder to the deck of the ship, leaving the confused captain to wonder what the hell he just witnessed.
“D-Do I really have to go?” You ask slowly, looking at him under the moonlight, a light breeze making his hair blow in the wind… you felt a lump in your stomach again, not like last time, this time you knew… you didn’t wanna leave him.
“W-Well we sail at dawn and perhaps you should find a new place to stay and-“
“Can’t I stay with you?”
“Y/N… I can’t ask that of you? You’ll become a criminal, a whore in the eye of law?” He say, his eyes giving such soft look yet so much pain behind them at the idea of you perhaps leaving for good… you slowly walk up to him, placing one hand on his cheek, making him look at you… he had shown you more humanity, more freedom and lust within these few hours you’d known him than anyone else… you knew you had to stay here…
“I rather be your whore than a noble man’s wife” you whisper, looking into his eyes, seeing how the pain in his eyes flood away and replace with happiness as he grabs your waist, lifts you up and spin you two around, letting out a loud laugh of happiness. You let out a screech and held onto his shoulders tightly as he spun you in case he would drop you, not that he ever would… As he sit you down again he remove his hands form your waits and cups your cheeks like you cupped his a moment ago, placing a couple chaste kisses on your mouth.
“Oh this is” kiss “going to be” kiss kiss “fucking great!” Kiss kiss kiss “I’ll show you the world, I’ll show you what real freedom is”
You couldn’t answer before you heard a voice. You look over at the trapdoor where Chans head stuck out, he held up the dress from the haystack between two fingers.
“Uh, guys? I thought you said it had beer on it, not that you ripped it apart..”
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sapphiresaphics · 20 hours ago
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I don’t know how people keep coming up with the worst takes on things, but here we are.
You wanna be logical about this? Okay fine.
Jinx locked her in the cell. She can’t get out. Even if she thinks she’s going to commit suicide, there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s locked in the cell. We don’t know how long it is before Caitlyn shows up. Could’ve been hours. There’s a war about to happen. No amount of hunting for Jinx is going to stop that. She doesn’t know where Jinx’s hideout is anyway. The chances of her FINDING her sister is slim to none now. Also, this is a prison. There are guards everywhere. Even if Jinx tries to leave, she’s likely going to get caught again and just thrown back into another cell. And even if she escapes, the possibilities are extremely low Vi will ever be able to find her and… need I remind you… a war is on the way. She’s got maybe a few hours at best before it gets here and kills everyone. She’s betrayed Caitlyn’s trust and lost her sister and she’s stuck in the cell. There’s nothing left for her.
So when Caitlyn comes in and tells her she expected to find her there and informs her that no, actually, she let her sister go and didn’t try to kill her or lock her back up and is letting go of the anger Jinx has had on her mind and that it’s okay that she tried to free her sister, Vi snaps. Because in that moment the ONLY person she has left is Caitlyn. And Caitlyn, the woman who’s been trying to kill her sister and broke up with her because Vi wouldn’t kill her sister, just informed her that she’s letting her sister go free. Which at the end of the day is all Vi really wanted.
And frankly I don’t think Vi really understands how devastated Jinx is. She comes in begging her sister to join up and fight and using her explosive potential to help out in the upcoming battle. She’s thinking of how this fight is going to get hundreds of people killed and she’s trying to build her sister up. From her point of view Jinx just needs a hug and to be told she’s special, because no matter how hard vi tries she’s always going to see Jinx as Powder. And while she has good intentions, this is NOT what Jinx needs to hear right now. Jinx is grieving and Vi is begging her to blow more shit up.
I am SO FUCKING DONE with people like you going “oh logically why wouldn’t she be trying to stop her sister from committing suicide? Why would she just fuck in a cell?! It’s such awkward timing! What bad writing!” Because you guys never stop and think about the character’s motivations.
YOU know jinx is suicidal. YOU know she is not doing well. But Vi doesn’t. Vi is blinded by Powder. She still doesn’t see Jinx or understand what Jinx has gone through. The idea that her sister is suicidal doesn’t even cross her mind. That fight in the tomb? Just her being crazy again. Jinx being theatrical again. Nothing new.
Fucking hell… that’s WHY Jinx locks her in the cell. Because even after everything they’ve gone through, she still sees her as powder. The “you’re never going to give up on me are you?” line is Jinx realizing that Vi will never truly see her as Jinx. That’s WHY she locks Vi in the cell. Because Jinx needs to leave this endless cycle and let Vi be able to move on. That’s why she tells her she doesn’t need to worry about her anymore or feel guilty and that she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn.
So yeah, they fuck in the cell because in that moment, Vi has lost everything. She doesn’t know if Jinx is alive or dead, she doesn’t know if she can find her before the war hits and potentially kills everyone and herself, and she’s gone behind Caitlyn’s back to release Jinx. She’s at her lowest point, with no time to do anything productive, and the girl of her dreams just informed her that it’s okay she betrayed her because she’s so god damn predictable and that’s something she loves about Vi, and that she’s letting her hatred of Jinx go. This is Caitlyn confirming to Vi that is was okay for her to love her sister that much. The one thing Vi has been repeatedly told by everyone around her she can’t do.
So this is VI’s emotions EXPLODING at the thought she still has one thing good left in her life. And she is going to take it NOW because this tension has been building and building for such a long time it NEEDS RELEASE. In that moment there’s no logic. No thought to the real world or what could be. It is pure emotional INSTINCT. Caitlyn has offered herself up on a silver platter and she is going to EAT.
The amount of effort you guys put into trying to misunderstand the characters, the scenes, and the intention behind the dialogue is ASTOUNDING. You should be awarded a medal for being so mind numbingly REDUCTIVE in your “criticisms.”
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saw these comments on an edit on tt and they really made me stop and rethink for a second, especially the second comment ...
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p0orbaby · 3 days ago
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Why Do I Give You the Worst of Me (1)
summary: love and bad decisions collide as you struggle to balance a tour and a relationship that’s spiraling out of control
warnings: 18+ adult themes throughout
a/n: another series i’m hoping i don’t regret committing myself to… not sure how many parts it’ll be, i don’t plan anything
word count: 3.1k
-
You wake up face-first on a sofa that smells like cigarettes, spilled beer, and faintly, vomit. Not yours, you think. The synthetic fabric is scratchy against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, it takes a moment to realise it’s morning—sunlight cutting through the cracked blinds, striping the floor with dusty light. The sofa is mustard yellow, ugly in a deliberate, trying-too-hard-to-be-retro way. It doesn’t belong to you. Nothing in this flat belongs to you.
There’s a girl in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she pours cereal into a bowl. You don’t know her name, but you know she wears Chanel No. 5 because it’s all you could smell last night when she leaned too close, whispering something you didn’t quite catch. Her hair’s a mess now—like spun gold caught in a tangle of barbed wire—but her makeup is still pristine. She’s the kind who sets her eyeliner with setting spray before going out, even if it’s just to the pub. You admire the commitment, if not the execution.
Your head throbs—a deep, insistent ache behind your eyes that reminds you of last night in bits and pieces: the gig (decent, though the sound guy fucked up your monitor levels), the afterparty (loud, sweaty, a haze of bodies and smoke), the lines of coke on a chipped coffee table, the bartender who kept giving you free shots because he recognised you from that NME interview last month. At some point, someone tried to fight you, though you’re not sure why. You vaguely remember smashing a bottle of tequila against a wall and laughing as glass shards rained down like confetti.
You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling, which is peeling in a way that suggests years of neglect, a building held together more by stubbornness than actual structural integrity. There’s a stain in the corner that looks suspiciously like mould, but you don’t care enough to investigate. The flat isn’t yours, after all. You were invited here by someone whose name escapes you now—a bassist from another band, or maybe it was their girlfriend? They’re gone this morning, anyway, leaving behind only the detritus of a night well-lived: empty bottles, crushed cigarette packets, a single black stiletto abandoned near the door like a fairy-tale gone wrong.
You light a cigarette, despite the pounding in your head and the fact that you’re pretty sure it’s technically illegal to smoke indoors here. The girl in the kitchen glances at you but doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure if she’s annoyed or indifferent; you don’t care. The smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet. Mornings like this are rare—where everything is still and soft, where the chaos of your life is temporarily held at bay by the thin walls of someone else’s flat.
Your bass is propped up against the armchair, scratched and battered in a way that tells a story if you care to look closely enough. It’s a Fender Precision, black with a white pickguard, the same model Sid Vicious used to play—not that you’d ever admit that’s why you bought it. The neck has a gouge near the third fret from when you threw it at a sound tech who deserved it (and missed). The strap is leather, worn smooth where it rests on your shoulder, and the bridge still has flecks of blood from the time you played so hard your fingers split open mid-song. You keep meaning to clean it, but you never do.
You check your phone, which is cracked and sticky with something you don’t want to identify. No new messages, except for a text from your drummer that reads: “u alive?” You don’t bother replying.
-
You’ve been in the band for five years now, though it feels longer. It started as a joke—a group of friends fucking around in someone’s garage, trying to see who could play the loudest, the fastest, the most obnoxious. Somewhere along the way, it became serious. There was a DIY EP, recorded in one manic weekend on borrowed gear, and a string of gigs in dingy pubs where the audiences were more interested in drinking than listening. Then came the break—a slot supporting a bigger band, one of those industry darlings who’d already started to hate themselves for selling out. The kind of band that wears matching outfits ironically, even though everyone knows it’s not ironic at all.
Now, you play sold-out shows to crowds who scream your lyrics back at you, though most of them probably couldn’t name your second album. Your face has been on the cover of Kerrang! twice, though you didn’t bother reading the articles. You hate interviews, but you do them anyway because your manager insists. You’re better at the photoshoots—smirking at the camera in a way that suggests you don’t care (you do).
The band is your life, though you wouldn’t call it that. Calling it your life makes it sound like you have some sort of plan, and you don’t. You’re just here, playing gigs and writing songs and doing whatever it takes to keep the wheels from falling off.
Your bandmates are a mixed bag of personalities, each one a walking caricature in their own way. There’s Matt, the drummer, who swears he’s been abducted by aliens and won’t shut up about it. Alex, the lead guitarist, is constantly high and insists on bringing his cat on tour, which you find deeply annoying. And then there’s Holly, the singer, who somehow manages to be both the most chaotic and the most responsible member of the group. She’s the one who organises rehearsals, books the studio time, and keeps you all from self-destructing entirely. You love her for it, even if you’d never say it out loud.
The girl in the kitchen finishes her cereal, rinses the bowl, and leaves without saying goodbye. You watch her go, not because you care but because there’s nothing else to do. When the door slams shut, the flat feels even smaller, like the walls are pressing in on you. You stub out your cigarette, grab your bass, and leave too.
-
Outside, London is already alive, though you wouldn’t call it awake. The streets are sticky from last night—spilled pints and kebab wrappers crushed into the pavement, cigarette butts floating in puddles of something that smells suspiciously like piss. The air has that distinct urban flavour: exhaust fumes mingling with fryer grease and the faint tang of wet concrete. You pull your leather jacket tighter around you, not because it’s cold (it is), but because it completes the look.
The jacket is vintage—or at least you tell people it is. In reality, you bought it at a high-street shop three years ago, and it’s held up surprisingly well, considering the abuse it’s endured. The lining is torn, the cuffs are frayed, and there’s a mysterious stain on the back you can’t quite place. But it’s yours, and it feels like armour. The boots, on the other hand, are real vintage: a pair of Dr Martens from the ‘90s you found in a thrift shop in Brighton. They’re scuffed to hell, and the left one squeaks when you walk, but you refuse to replace them because they’re authentic.
You head toward the Tube station, your bass slung over one shoulder like a soldier carrying a rifle. People stare, but only briefly. In London, no one has the energy to care for long. The morning commuters are a mix of suits and students, their faces blank, their eyes glazed over as they clutch takeaway coffees in one hand and their phones in the other. You feel out of place but also weirdly superior, like you’ve cracked some code they haven’t even realised exists yet.
You hop on the Northern line, ignoring the signs that politely request passengers to “refrain from eating or drinking.” You’re not eating or drinking, but you do pull out a cigarette, which is arguably worse. It’s a roll-up, so you convince yourself it doesn’t count. An old woman glares at you, clutching her handbag like she thinks you’re about to mug her. You offer her a crooked smile, which she does not return, and you put the cigarette back in your pocket because she reminds you of your nan.
The train screeches into motion, and you pull out your phone. The lock screen is a photo of your bass, which says a lot about you. There are a few notifications—mostly spam emails and an unread message from Holly: Rehearsal at 2. Don’t be late, dickhead.
You glance at the time. 11:47 a.m. Plenty of time.
-
The rehearsal space is in Camden, a dingy basement that smells of mildew and unwashed socks. The walls are lined with egg cartons painted black in a half-hearted attempt at soundproofing, and the floor is sticky for reasons you’d rather not think about. The room has seen better days—probably in the ‘80s, when it was still a nightclub and not a haven for struggling musicians. There’s a single fluorescent bulb overhead that flickers ominously, and a space heater in the corner that’s never worked.
Holly is already there when you arrive, tuning her guitar with the precision of someone who takes this far more seriously than you do. She’s wearing a denim jacket covered in patches for bands you’ve never heard of, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She looks up as you walk in, her expression equal parts exasperation and relief.
“Christ, you smell like an ashtray,” she says, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s called branding,” you reply, dropping your bass onto the floor with a thud.
Matt and Alex show up ten minutes later, looking even worse than you do. Matt has the kind of face that always looks slightly hungover, even when he’s not, and Alex is wearing the same shirt he wore yesterday, now with an impressive new stain across the front.
The rehearsal starts late, as it always does, and quickly descends into chaos. Matt insists on playing a drum solo during every song, despite the fact that no one asked for it. Alex keeps stopping mid-riff to check his phone, claiming he’s “waiting for an important call,” though everyone knows it’s just his dealer. Holly shouts at both of them until her voice cracks, then turns her frustration on you for being “completely fucking useless.” You take it in stride, plucking random notes on your bass and pretending to care.
-
At some point, Holly storms out, leaving the three of you to your own devices. Matt immediately pulls out a joint, which Alex lights with a lighter shaped like a naked woman. You lean back against the wall, your bass resting against your thigh, and watch as they argue over which fast-food place to hit up after rehearsal.
“McDonald’s is closer,” Alex says, taking a drag.
“But KFC’s got the gravy,” Matt counters, waving his arms for emphasis.
“It’s not even real gravy,” Alex snaps.
“None of it’s real,” you interject, flicking ash onto the floor. “We’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine.”
They stare at you for a moment, then go back to arguing.
-
By the time rehearsal ends, it’s dark outside. You pack up your gear, ignoring Holly’s death glare as she reminds you for the millionth time that you need to take this more seriously. You nod, mumble something about “artistic integrity,” and leave before she can yell at you again.
Back on the street, the air is crisp, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes you wish you’d brought a scarf. You light another cigarette, even though you’ve already smoked half a pack today, and head toward the pub.
The pub is your sanctuary, a place where time slows down and the only thing that matters is the next round. It’s a dive, the kind of place where the carpet sticks to your shoes and the jukebox is permanently stuck on a rotation of The Clash and The Smiths. You know the bartender by name, though you’re not sure if he knows yours.
You order a pint and settle into a corner booth, your bass case propped up beside you. The first sip is like a warm hug, washing away the stress of the day. You’re halfway through your second pint when you see her.
-
You don’t notice her at first. Not properly. She’s part of the blur—the dim bar lights catching on glasses, the low hum of half-drunken conversation, the vague sense that you’ve been here before even if you haven’t. She’s leaning against the counter, waiting for her drink, and it’s not until the bartender—a man whose name might be Pete but who you’re pretty sure is just “Oi, mate” to everyone who comes in—hands her a gin and tonic that you actually see her.
And it’s a gin and tonic. Not a lager, not a rum and coke, not something ironic like a snakebite or one of those craft beers with names like Hops and Robbers. It’s a G&T, clean and crisp, with a slice of lime balanced on the rim like it’s posing for a stock photo. The glass is crystal clear, and so are her nails—short, practical, painted the sort of soft pink that suggests she doesn’t chew them during stressful moments (unlike you). She takes the drink with both hands, like she’s steadying herself, and there’s something about that—the deliberateness of it—that hooks you.
You tell yourself you’re just looking because she’s there. Because it’s either her or the guy at the next table who’s been droning on about Bitcoin for twenty minutes straight. But it’s more than that. There’s a stillness to her, an odd kind of clarity that doesn’t fit in a place like this, like she’s wandered in from a parallel universe.
She turns slightly, and you catch her profile: sharp nose, strong jawline, cheekbones that could cut glass but probably wouldn’t because she seems far too polite. Her hair is blonde—not platinum, not peroxide, but the kind of natural gold that makes you think of expensive shampoo and childhood summers. It’s tied back loosely, wisps framing her face in a way that seems accidental but probably isn’t.
She’s not wearing makeup. Or maybe she is, but it’s the invisible kind—the kind that takes forty-five minutes to apply but looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed looking flawless. Her jumper is navy, oversized enough to suggest she might have nicked it from someone else’s wardrobe, paired with jeans that sit perfectly at her hips without being skinny. On her feet are white trainers—clean, like freshly ironed bedsheets—Adidas, the classic three stripes in black, laces tied neatly, no fraying ends.
You’re staring. You know you are. But she hasn’t noticed, so it doesn’t count.
The bartender mutters something to her, and she laughs. Not the loud, performative laugh you hear from most people in bars, but something softer, like it’s meant for her and her alone. The sound is so out of place in this dingy pub that it feels almost sacrilegious, like someone’s brought a cathedral choir to sing in a nightclub.
You tell yourself to look away. You don’t.
Instead, you light a cigarette, even though the pub is strictly non-smoking. You do it for the aesthetic, the same way you do most things. There’s a half-empty pint in front of you—lager, flat and warm, probably with someone else’s fingerprints on the glass—but you take a sip anyway, because what else are you going to do?
She turns then, her gaze sweeping the room, and you’re caught like a deer in headlights. For a second, you think she’s looking at you, but she’s not. She’s looking past you, at the dartboard on the wall behind your head. Her expression is curious, like she’s trying to figure out why anyone would bother playing darts in a place like this.
Then her eyes meet yours, and the world tilts.
It’s not love at first sight, not really. Love at first sight is for Disney films and Hallmark cards and people who shop at Waitrose without looking at the prices. This is something else. Recognition, maybe. Like you’ve seen her before in a dream or a half-remembered story someone told you once. Like you’ve spent your whole life waiting for this moment without knowing it.
She holds your gaze for a second longer than is polite. Then she looks away, back at her gin and tonic, and you realise you’ve been holding your breath.
-
You don’t approach her right away. That would be too obvious, too predictable. Instead, you wait, watching her out of the corner of your eye while pretending to scroll through your phone. It’s a shitty phone, cracked and outdated, but you’ve never bothered upgrading because you secretly enjoy the low expectations it sets. No one looks at you and expects success when your phone screen is held together with Sellotape.
She moves to a table in the corner, near the radiator, and sits down alone. No book, no laptop, no visible excuse to be here other than the gin and tonic in her hand. She sips it slowly, methodically, like she’s savouring it. Like she’s savouring this.
You wonder what her story is.
Is she waiting for someone? A friend, a boyfriend, a clandestine meeting with a lover? Or is she just one of those people who can sit alone in public without feeling like a target? You’ve never understood that kind of confidence—the kind that lets you exist without an audience, without a role to play.
You take another sip of your pint, then decide, fuck it.
You stand, grab your bass (because leaving it behind would feel like abandoning a child), and make your way across the room. Your boots squeak against the sticky floor, and you curse them under your breath. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.
“Mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing vaguely at the empty chair across from her.
She hesitates, just for a moment, then nods.
“Sure.”
Her voice is soft, but not shy. Measured. Like she’s weighing every word before she says it.
You sit, placing your bass case carefully against the table leg. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re not sure what to say, and she seems content to let the silence stretch. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s not easy, either.
Finally, she breaks it.
“You’re in a band,” she says, nodding toward the bass. It’s not a question.
You smile. “Yeah. What gave it away?”
She raises an eyebrow, and you realise it’s a stupid question.
“What’s the band called?”
You tell her, and she nods, like she’s vaguely heard of it but couldn’t name a single song.
“I’m Alessia,” she says, holding out her hand. Her grip is firm, her skin warm.
“Nice to meet you,” you reply, and for the first time in a long time, you actually mean it.
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erinwantstowrite · 12 hours ago
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bear with me here because i'm gonna ramble about something i've been thinking about for a while... and i'm not complaining, i'm just noticing
sometimes i think we've leaned so far into the vigilante side of the batfam that we miss out on what really makes their characters: detective work. we need more mysteries in their lives that don't lead up to some big bad "we already know who's doing it" or an "end of the world" or "yet again: this fucking guy." we need more stuff where spy movie music plays in the background and dumb adventures that don't lead up to some huge grand event with a big name villain. the shock factor stops being shocking or interesting in any capacity if we're like "Gah! the Joker! ... Again!" or whatever
does that even make sense? like "yeah sure they're blowing up a building again and there's hostages. oh look they're gonna poison the water supply." these aren't bad and that's not what i'm getting at because obviously this is a classic for comics. you need to have characters/antagonists that show up more than once and who can make a story better by being in it. and i did say to bear with me- that's because im tired. so like i hope im getting this across the right way? it's just that sometimes i don't wanna see a huge explosion, i want these motherfuckers solving a regular murder or a disappearance or regular corruption in a local office without it being tied to a grand reveal like "actually this person knows you as a long lost relative" or "they were at that circus can you guess which night they went?" that kind of thing? if you get me? like... more of the small time stuff makes the big stuff important, it makes it stand out more. at some point, the format gets repetitive even if you're switching up the villains. you can make these situations/mysteries still fun to solve for the characters and fun to read for the audience if you do it right
the concept of a detective dressed as a bat and having a sidekick in traffic light colors is inherently goofy as hell??? but that is what is so charming about it??? i think we have lost the balance between them being silly while also being intelligent with important conversations that criticize the world as we see it and teach lessons and can go over dark topics. nowadays it's always end of the world problems or just straight up the most gruesome true crime you can think of?? or they can ONLY do the dark stuff and the criticism without offering a balance of the good in the world. or we keep coming back to the FUCKING JOKER-
like yes they are vigilantes and with that comes a different level of their work, but their brand should be a mix between a black and white detective film that can get very nitty gritty and a classic spy movie, that kind of thing. at the end of the day, it's what makes them so different from the superheroes. that's what appeals to me.
seeing them in the big superhero groups is fun, don't get me wrong. it's always funny to see them standing next to people who are so powerful they never really fit in with anyone but each other, who chose to step up and use their powers for good. the Bats' specialty is Gotham and yet here they are stopping a god or whatever. and they do stop the god or whatever, all the while being an important leader and strategist to their teammates. they're important to have in these cases. but if there's a world ending event every time i pick something up, it's not as fun
the fact that they are so very human and not fantastical is why i like reading them. it's what makes the joke of people, even Gotham citizens, theorizing about them being cryptids, funny. they're fucking weird but that's because they're detectives. people who love to solve mysteries usually have a fatal flaw of curiosity. they forget the bounds between social interactions sometimes because they're used to working through problems or being intertwined with partners that understand them. but they're very much human. so human that it hurts them in many ways. and idk i've just been thinking about it lately and idk what point i'm trying to get across actually
it's just that in my eyes that's how it really is for Batman- a black and white movie narrated by a very serious man who took up a job to help people, one that has a deeper commentary on the world and viewed outwardly as pessimistic but actually has a deep hope for his city and who tries to help even the people who have wronged others. He's a stationary man in the belief that him being a constant can serve to soothe others and help them move forward. He stays in the middle of the path so he can tell everyone what is up ahead. he blends into the Gotham rainy night to serve justice but in a way that saves both the victim and the perpetrator. (the way he tucks a Robin into his cape is the same he does for Gotham with his mere presence.) and his background is actually so important to his story and yet people still somehow gloss over the lesson from it? he lost his parents because of a man who was on the opposite end of the spectrum to where he was in life. and yet he chose to help the people like the man that killed his parents. he could have done anything else with his power and money, but he instead is choosing to bring as many people up with him as he can. He's Mr. Serious that no one else can get a read on. and yet he walks into a room and he's already piecing together your life and what you're going through because he thinks it matters. he comforts people who have lost something or someone or themselves. I picture Batman and I don't picture a man trying to save the world, I picture a detective walking around a crime scene and trying to save at least one person every time he puts on the cape. and he put on the cape and became a vigilante because then he could go out of the bounds of what laws have been set up- and specifically, Gotham has other people in power who are corrupt, keeping the system that way. that's why Batman being a billionare and throwing himself into helping people at the risk of his own life is so important. he knows that if you are alive, you have something or someone to lose, no matter who you are. the dude is a bleeding heart but he doesn't know how to express it, in fear that if he gets too close, if he moves down the path with them, he'll be lost again
and then he's met with someone who should be a complete opposite, but isn't at all, because they're two sides of the same coin. his partner in crime, his son, a boy that is nothing like the black and white world that he sees. and that's the point in his life where he first sees that potentially getting lost is worth the risk. Robin is color and passion that needs guidance to move forward, but can not do so unless the stationary man learns to move with him. the kid is loud and reckless and you'd think he's from a different genre from the detective but they aren't so different, really. not when you look close enough. Dick grew up moving from place to place and seeing the world, knowing so many different people from different cultures. He's been learning to fly and jump and embrace the free fall his entire life. He's clever and he's sharp, and he thrives in the action and adventure. it's that perspective that compliments the stationary man. one is steady and the other pushes. he's the same genre but a different generation. and Batman introducing him to the way of life he chose for himself was another way he could save someone. because let's be real for a second? Dick would have gone down a very dark path had he not had Bruce, who understood, who saw not just himself in the kid but also saw who the kid has been his entire life until now. he saw Dick's parents, he saw the family he had in the circus, he saw the joy he had in what his family was doing. he saw the grief and the fire and the color that Dick's world was made of. because to Bruce, it always matters. Dick had to come to terms with Bruce's perspective to help anyone who they come across, to always give more chances, and it kept Dick from losing his color
what gets me is that the man who lives in the black and white world can actually see many different shades of gray (because black and white always needs the medium), whereas the boy in a world of color and light can get so focused on the bright that he can become single minded. and yet the boy sees a world of color and delves deeper into the lives of the peolle they come across and can be much more open minded, and the man in the black and white world sometimes forgets the shades of grey are right there. they are just like each other. they can exist without the other, but do they want to? because the black and white can be built up into the colored image, like the inking and shadows drawn on a comic book page before the colors are added in. they meet in the middle to complete each other. Bruce has been passing the story over to the next generation for a long, long time, even before his story was complete. and just like with the first Robin, it was so for every Robin afterwards. they each color in the lines differently, but that's what makes Robin so special, so unique. they are an art style that branches into their own life, but can not forget where they started: tucked into Batman's cape and the inky black of his world
and so detective work really frames their hunanity to me. the mysteries they get their hands on, the glimpses into the lives of Gotham citizens that they swore to protect, it's fascinating. it's what makes their story stand out compared to the people who can lift trucks or cast spells or run around the world in seconds. so yeah ig that's what i'm trying to say? that i want to read more of that? in both canon and fanon. cause even the small time villains we see can be like. AWFUL people and it takes out the fun of their gimmicks. and if it were any other day this would be a more coherent post but alas, it is not any other day
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abearinthewoods · 3 days ago
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This last post here is so clearly an example of whats wrong with feminism's way of looking at men. How quick it is to ascribe some malicious intent onto the actions of men.
>Do I vocally object to the slur? To the objectification? To the very premise of the question? This was obviously set up to be bait, to catch me out somehow, to "trigger" me, to gauge where my ideological loyalties were - he didn't really care about my response, he cared about how I worded it, which things I objected to, where my lines in the sand were. He didn't like that I was "the quiet guy." He needed material to pick on me with, and I didn't want to give it to him.
Protip: these trade guys don't consider tranny a slur. it is just the name they heard somebody else refer to them. Its why they tend to call generics by specifics (coke or pepsi for soda in general). Their use of speech is not that complicated.
Anywho, yes, this was setup to bait you, the whole point is no answer is free from mockery. You won by not being effected by this and just answering matter of factly. Being cagey or timid would have been what actually lead to mockery. The other path to "victory" is taking the "brave" or unsafe path and defending it with confidence. You could have answered that "i don't care if shes got a penis or used to be a man, if she looks like that any hole's a goal if you know what I mean" and if you passed the confidence check you'd be treated like a manly man. If they pushed back "you telling me you would turn down those lips around your dick?" and now they have failed the masculinity test.
The only truly unacceptable answer would have been to call it out as objectification. This would have lead to becoming the quiet outcast nobody interacted with.
Women have the same kind of discussions about rather or not they want fuck male celebrities. It doesn't all of the sudden become problematic just because its men doing it.
Anyways, back to the point in my opening sentence. So many assumptions are being made about this coworker's intentions. And almost every single one of them proven to be untrue by the dude's reaction at the end to op's answer, yet his post doesn't even realize this. OP got praised for not being held up by chromosomal ideals around sex and gender but still treats the entire interaction like an example of transphobia. Too blinded by the othering of his coworker as a cis gendered straight tradesmen to even see what actually happened in this interaction.
I'm this close to just sending that trans inclusive radical misogynist post, the one about how there's loads of guys who'll go "oh, you're a man now, great, come shit talk women with us" to every blog insisting that trans men can't have male privilege and it's transandrophobia to say they do. Not every trans man has this experience but it's actually pretty common even for out trans men to be seen as, if not "real" men depending on who you ask, certainly non-women, and encouraged to perform misogyny as part of their social transition.
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puppym3 · 7 hours ago
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❤ SKZ reaction to you with baby fever! ❤
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MDNI 18+
wc: 23.4k (about 5k each)
genre: fluff, humor, smut
warnings: a lot of baby-making, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very steamy, oral (f + m rec), choking, marking, daddy energy, some switch vibes from some, dom member mostly, breeding kink?, we dunno if it was successful!, don't recreate at home, (please let me know if i missed any)
a/n: i was tired of starving you guys so i just made 8 individual fics for all of them! hope you enjoy <3
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Bang Chan :
The soft hum of the TV played in the background as you nestled into Bang Chan’s side, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. His warmth seeped into you, his scent, clean and familiar, grounding you in the moment. The glow from the screen illuminated his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the faint scrunch of concentration on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t have to try; even here, in worn-out sweatpants and a hoodie, he exuded that quiet strength and warmth that made you fall for him every day.
Your heart tightened as you watched him, the weight of the thought you’d been holding in for months pressing heavily on your chest. Two years of marriage had passed in a blissful blur, filled with laughter, love, and late-night talks. But there was something you wanted, something you’d dreamed of every time you saw him interacting with kids, the way they lit up in his presence. You wanted a family with him. You wanted to see his kind eyes reflected in someone small, to hear his laughter echo through your home in a way that belonged entirely to the two of you.
But every time you imagined telling him, your courage faltered. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he didn’t want that yet? The fear of disrupting the perfect harmony you had kept you silent, until tonight.
You shifted slightly in his hold, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your shirt. The words were bubbling at the edge of your tongue, and your heart raced like a drumbeat, loud and insistent. “Chan?” you murmured, barely louder than the TV.
“Hmm?” His response was distracted, his thumb still swiping on the screen as he hummed softly under his breath. Even that small sound sent warmth curling through you.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” you started, voice hesitant but determined.
That got his attention. He immediately set his phone down on the armrest and turned to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. Concern flickered across his face, and he tilted his head slightly, his brows knitting together. “Yeah? What’s up?” His voice was gentle, grounding you in the safe space he always provided.
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. The words felt heavy, like if you said them, there was no taking them back. But you’d held them in for so long, and if you didn’t say them now, you weren’t sure when you’d find the courage again.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” you said slowly, glancing down at your lap where your fingers twisted together nervously. “About what’s next for us.”
His expression softened, his body shifting as he turned fully toward you. He rested a hand on your knee, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. “Okay,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Talk to me, love. What’s on your mind?”
The weight of his gaze made your cheeks flush, but his touch grounded you. You glanced up, meeting his eyes, and took a deep breath. “What if… what if we started trying? For a baby, I mean.”
The silence that followed was deafening. His hand stilled on your knee, his eyes widening ever so slightly as your words sank in. He blinked at you, his lips parting as though to speak, but no sound came out. You watched as the realization hit him, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
“A baby?” he finally managed, his voice cracking slightly on the word.
You nodded, a wave of relief washing over you now that it was out in the open. “Yeah,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush. “I know it’s a big step, and I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. And I just… I think you’d be an amazing dad, Chan. I really do.”
His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he couldn’t quite find the words. Then he let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his messy curls. “Wow,” he said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “That’s… wow.” He shook his head, a nervous grin spreading across his face. “You really think I’d be a good dad?”
“Of course,” you said, your voice steady with conviction. “You’re patient, kind, and thoughtful. And you’re so good with kids, Chan. They adore you.”
His blush deepened, and he let out a groan, burying his face in his hands. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”
You laughed, reaching out to gently tug his hands away from his face. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.
He huffed, though his lips twitched into a smile. “You can’t just drop something like that on me and expect me to act normal. You’re talking about a baby. Our baby.”
The way he said it, soft and reverent like he was tasting the words for the first time, made your heart ache in the best way. “So… what do you think?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out to cup your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “I think…” he said slowly, his voice steady and sure, “I love you more than anything in this world. And if having a baby is what you want, then it’s what I want too.”
Your chest swelled with emotion, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll probably mess up a lot, but if you believe in me that much… then I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
Tears spilled over as you laughed softly, your hands coming up to cover his. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms like he was trying to shield you from the world.
After a moment, he pulled back slightly, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, I’m not saying no to all the, uh… practice it’s going to take.”
You smacked his arm lightly, your cheeks burning. “Chan!”
“What?” he said, feigning innocence as his grin widened. “I’m just saying, we should make sure we’re doing it right. You know, aim for perfection.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your jaw as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you into his lap. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve got all night, love.”
The butterflies in your stomach erupted as his lips found yours, soft and deliberate, pouring all his love into the kiss. You melted into him, losing yourself in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hands, the steady beat of his heart.
He was the one who finally broke the kiss, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants. He leaned his forehead against yours, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.
"You know, we could always start trying now," he said, the words sending heat rushing through you.
You gave a breathless laugh, looping your arms around his neck. "I like the way you think, Mr. Bang," you said, grinning against his lips.
He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah?"
"Definitely," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Take me to bed."
A low giggle escaped him as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs. "It'd be my pleasure, Mrs. Bang," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours.
And with that, he stood, carrying you easily across the room.
Your heart raced in anticipation, the familiar weight of his touch making you feel lightheaded. The soft glow of the TV dimly illuminated the room, casting shadows across the walls. The low murmur of the news anchor's voice seemed distant and unimportant, replaced by the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.
Bang Chan's warm hands cradled you, his lips pressed gently to your hair as he carried you across the threshold and into the bedroom, his movements careful and deliberate. Your eyes slipped closed, savoring the closeness, the safety, the comfort of being enveloped by him.
When you felt him set you down, you reluctantly opened your eyes. You were greeted by the sight of Chan's broad shoulders, his back turned to you as he shut the door with a quiet click.
As he turned back toward you, you took a moment to appreciate the view. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, drawing your gaze downward. A familiar heat pooled between your thighs, and you bit your lip, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.
"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
"Nothing," you said, your cheeks heating at the intensity of his gaze. "I'm just... admiring the view."
He grinned, his dimples flashing, and took a step toward you. "Is that so?"
You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit breathless.
"Well, allow me to return the favor," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
His eyes roamed over you, his expression growing soft as his gaze lingered on your lips, your neck, your collarbone. He moved closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You shivered as his thumb brushed along your lower lip, his eyes darkening.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice laced with awe. "Our baby is gonna be so lucky."
The heat in your core pulsed, and you leaned into his touch, his words making your chest tighten. "Chan..."
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss, his hands slipping to your hips. You melted into the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, gently coaxing them open. The taste of him was intoxicating, sweet and familiar, and you clung to him, his warmth seeping into your skin.
You broke the kiss with a gasp as his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear. His hands moved up your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. You fumbled with his hoodie, your fingers trembling as they skimmed over his toned chest. He chuckled, his breath tickling your skin, and helped you tug the fabric over his head.
You tossed it aside, letting out a soft whine as his lips resumed their exploration of your neck, his teeth gently scraping over your pulse point. His hands slid down your waist, finding the button of your jeans. You helped him, wriggling out of the restrictive fabric, leaving you clad only in your bra and underwear.
Chan stepped back, his eyes raking over you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "God, I love you," he murmured, his fingers teasing the lace hem of your panties.
You shivered, a thrill running through you at the intensity of his gaze.
"And I can't wait to have a baby with you," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
Your heart fluttered, and you closed the distance between you, pulling him in for a kiss.
He responded immediately, his hands sliding around your waist, drawing you closer. The warmth of his bare skin against yours made you tremble, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the taste of his lips.
You felt his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and you let out a soft sigh as the cool air hit your skin, the material falling to the floor. His hands moved up your sides, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts.
"God, Chan," you gasped, his touch sending sparks through you.
"Yeah, love?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.
You rolled your eyes, reaching down to hook your thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. "Don't play coy," you muttered, a thrill running through you as his breath caught.
"Okay, okay," he breathed, his eyes following as he watched you.
You pulled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, revealing his impressive length. He stepped out of them, and you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry.
"Like what you see?" he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Always," you breathed, leaning in for a kiss.
He returned the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours. His hands moved down, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms looping around his neck. You felt his hard length press against your clothed core, and a soft whimper escaped you.
He carried you back to the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You landed on the mattress, and he moved over you, his knee nudging your legs apart. You obliged, spreading your thighs for him.
"So beautiful," he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck.
His fingers found the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes raking over your bare form.
You felt a flash of heat, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. But the way his pupils dilated and his tongue darted out to wet his lips was all the reassurance you needed.
"Chan," you whimpered, arching your back as his lips trailed along your hipbone.
"Shh," he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Let me take care of you."
You shivered, biting your lip to stifle a moan as his fingers dipped between your thighs, gently parting your folds.
"God, you're wet," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You groaned, rolling your hips against his hand. He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit. You let out a gasp, your eyes squeezing shut.
"That's it," he whispered, his voice low and smooth. "Just relax."
His fingers circled your entrance, dipping in and out, the sensation driving you wild. You could feel his breath, hot against your thigh, and when his tongue dragged along the sensitive skin, your eyes snapped open.
"Chan," you breathed, gripping the sheets as his tongue found your clit, laving the swollen bud.
Your back arched off the bed, a moan escaping you. His free hand gripped your hip, keeping you pinned to the mattress as he worked you open, his tongue relentlessly swirling around your clit.
You writhed beneath him, heat building in your core, the sensations overwhelming. His fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and stretching. You could feel his hot breath on your skin, and when his lips closed around your clit, sucking gently, you let out a cry, your vision blurring.
"Please, Chan," you gasped, unable to take any more.
He hummed, the vibrations sending shocks through you. Then, mercifully, he released your clit, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. He then spit into his palm, and reached up to stroke his hard length, spreading the wetness.
"You ready, love?" he murmured, his voice husky and thick.
"God, yes," you gasped, arching your back and spreading your thighs, welcoming him into the cradle of your hips.
You watched, transfixed, as he positioned himself at your entrance. He hesitantly looked back at you, making sure you were one hundred percent okay with this.
"Please," you begged, your voice a breathless whimper.
He grinned, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue swept into your mouth, he eased himself inside you. You gasped, the stretch and fullness making your head spin. He slowly bottomed out, and you moaned, the pressure and heat intoxicating.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Fuck, baby. You're so wet."
You whimpered, rocking your hips against his, the friction making you shiver. He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening.
"Chan," you managed, clinging to his broad shoulders, the sensation almost too much.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing over your pulse point.
"I want you," you breathed, a soft whimper escaping you. "I need you."
He hummed, slowly pulling back before thrusting deep inside you.
Your vision went white, a wave of pleasure crashing over you.
"You like that?" he asked, his voice laced with a possessive heat that made your core clench.
You let out a moan, nodding helplessly as he rocked his hips into you, his movements slow and steady. The drag of his cock inside you was intoxicating, and you gasped, clinging to him. The friction sent waves of heat through you, and you let out a breathless moan, arching your back to meet his thrusts. He grunted, his grip on your hips bruising.
"Please, Chan," you whimpered, the sensations becoming too much.
He let out a groan, his pace picking up. You writhed beneath him, the heat and friction overwhelming. He pounded into you, his hips slapping against yours. You gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.
"Fuck," he hissed, his voice a low growl. "You feel so good."
You cried out, the heat and pressure building in your core. He drove into you, his pace relentless, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. You whimpered, the friction and fullness bringing tears to your eyes.
"Oh God, Chan," you gasped, the tension mounting.
"Yeah?" he panted, his voice strained.
"I'm close," you whined, the words coming out broken.
He hummed, his fingers digging into your hips. He shifted, changing the angle, and the new sensation sent a shock through you. You cried out, your vision blurring as the pleasure hit its peak. Your body went taut, the tension snapping, and you fell apart, his name spilling from your lips.
Your vision went white, and the waves crashed over you, drowning out everything but the feel of his body against yours. His pace didn't falter, his hips rocking against yours as you came down, his movements drawing out your release.
"I'm not done with you yet," he warned, his grip tight on you.
You whimpered, the heat still pulsing through you, the sensation almost too much. He slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming languid and shallow.
"Chan," you breathed, barely louder than a whisper.
He groaned, leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You kissed him back, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, stealing the breath from your lungs. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close.
When he broke the kiss, his breathing was ragged. He groaned, burying his face in your neck. His hips snapped forward, the sudden motion making you gasp. You cried out, the new angle hitting you just right. You writhed beneath him, the sensations almost too much.
"God, baby, I'm so close," he gasped, his voice thick and husky.
You moaned, the sound turning into a desperate whine.
He thrust harder, deeper, the pressure and heat overwhelming. You writhed beneath him, the friction driving you crazy.
"Fill me up," you breathed, his name on the edge of your lips.
"God, baby, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his hips snapping forward.
"Please," you pleaded, the pressure mounting.
"I'm gonna fill you up," he growled, his voice rough with need. "Gonna give you my baby."
You let out a cry, the tension snapping. He grunted, his movements growing erratic, and you clenched around him, his release triggering another orgasm.
"Fuck, yes, love," he hissed, his voice breaking.
His hips stuttered, and he thrust once more, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural groan escaped him, and he spilled inside you, his cock twitching as he emptied himself. You moaned, the warmth and pressure bringing tears to your eyes.
He collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You clung to him, the feeling of his skin against yours grounding you, anchoring you. You lay there for a moment, neither of you moving, the silence broken only by the sound of your breaths.
After a moment, he leaned back, gently easing himself out of you. You whimpered, already missing the closeness, the fullness. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a content smile on his face.
"How are you feeling, love?" he murmured, brushing the hair out of your face.
You sighed, your eyelids heavy. "Good. Really good," you mumbled, a dopey grin spreading across your face.
He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your temple. "Glad to hear it," he said, his voice soft and warm.
You snuggled into his chest, the steady rise and fall of his chest comforting. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
You yawned, your eyelids drooping.
"Get some sleep, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head.
"Mm," you hummed, your mind hazy and your limbs heavy.
The last thing you remember is the warmth of his touch, and the gentle sound of his voice.
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Lee Know :
The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment as you leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Minho at the stove. He stood in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly messy from a lazy day at home. He looked effortlessly handsome, the golden glow of the evening sun streaming through the window highlighting his sharp features.
"Stop staring and make yourself useful," he quipped, glancing at you over his shoulder with a smirk. "The chopping board isn’t just for decoration, you know."
You grinned but stayed put, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Your heart raced as you debated whether to bring up the topic that had been on your mind for months. It wasn’t that you doubted his love or your relationship; Minho had always been thoughtful and attentive in his own dryly affectionate way. But this… this was a leap.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Mm?” Minho hummed, focused on stirring the pasta sauce. "Thinking about helping me for once?"
"Minho," you said, this time with a little more weight, drawing his attention. He turned, wooden spoon in hand, eyebrows raised.
"What’s up?"
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you glanced up at him, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "I’ve been thinking about... having a baby," you said quietly, hoping the words would come out with less hesitation.
Minho paused for a moment, the spoon in his hand suspended in mid-air. His eyes blinked twice, as if he was processing the words. Then, he cocked his head, smirking with that mischievous gleam in his eyes. "A baby?" he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Are you sure? Because, you know, little versions of me would be a disaster... they’d probably be stealing my hair products and making my kitchen a mess by the time they can walk."
You let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off, but inside, your heart dropped. "I mean... just a thought," you stammered, taking a step back. "You know, for someday, when we’re ready."
Minho raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "We? Baby, you just mentioned the idea, and now you’re saying 'we'? You sure you’re ready to handle two Minhos? One’s already enough to deal with."
The teasing tone hit harder than you expected, and a wave of insecurity washed over you. Maybe you were too hasty to bring it up. Maybe he didn’t actually want that with you, maybe he wasn’t ready.
You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the feeling. "Yeah, never mind. Forget I said anything." You waved it off, turning back to the counter to grab a glass of water, trying to hide the tightening in your chest.
Minho didn’t seem to notice, his attention back on stirring the sauce. The rest of dinner went by in an awkward silence, with you trying to focus on the food and Minho humming mindlessly to the playlist in the background, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d ruined something with your suggestion.
That night, as you curled up under the covers, your mind was still restless. You kept replaying the conversation in your head, trying to convince yourself that maybe you’d misinterpreted Minho’s teasing. But the words still stung, and you couldn’t quite shake the doubt.
As you lay there, the room dim and quiet, you heard the sound of Minho shifting beside you. He rolled over to face you, his dark eyes studying you intently. You turned to face him, still unsure, the bed warm and cozy around you.
Minho shifted closer, his hand lightly brushing your arm as he studied you with an unreadable expression. The tension between you both was palpable, the weight of the earlier conversation lingering in the air. For a few seconds, there was only the soft rustling of sheets, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows over his sharp features.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice suddenly softer, almost intimate. You looked at him, his gaze intense, a shift in the way he was looking at you now. “The baby thing... it’s been on my mind, too.”
You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Was he just trying to lighten the mood again? Or had the thought really stayed with him? “Minho…” you began, but before you could say anything more, his fingers brushed against your cheek, gently guiding your face toward his.
“You know,” he murmured, lips hovering just inches from yours, “the idea of a mini me running around... messing up my space, stealing my things... I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it at first.” His breath was warm against your skin, sending a flutter through your chest. “But now?” He paused, eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and something else you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”
Your heart raced, the uncertainty from before now mixed with a rush of anticipation. Minho was never one to easily give in to big ideas like this, so hearing him admit it was unexpected. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin, pulling you just a little closer.
“So... what are you saying?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
Minho’s lips curled into that teasing grin you knew so well. “I’m saying, if you want a little bundle of chaos in nine months... you better make your mind up now.” His voice was low, seductive, and it sent a spark of heat straight to your core. “If we’re doing this... we’re doing it right. No half-measures.” His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his gaze dropped to your lips. “No turning back once we start.”
Before you could respond, Minho’s lips were on yours, kissing you with a sudden, hungry intensity that sent your pulse spiking. His hands roamed to your sides, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You let out a soft gasp as his hands slid beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin with a mixture of tenderness and urgency.
“You sure you want this?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, fingers already working their way up to your chest. “Because I can’t think about anything else now. Just... us.”
You couldn’t form words in response, your body reacting instinctively as you pulled him closer, kissing him back with the same intensity. It wasn’t just about the baby anymore, it was about everything you shared, every part of this relationship that felt so right. His hands were everywhere now, leaving no room for doubt.
Minho’s lips trailed down your neck, his voice muffled against your skin as he said, “You want a baby in nine months? We start tonight... and we do it properly.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss that only deepened, his hands working their way down to the waistband of your pants. You gasped, a shiver running through your body as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to bite softly at the tender spot near your collarbone.
Your body ached for him, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. “Then let’s do it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “Let’s go all in.”
Minho responded without a word, his lips finding yours once more as his hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. You were lost in a haze of desire and passion, your thoughts consumed by the idea of him, of the future. It was reckless and risky, but for the first time, you didn’t care about anything but him.
Minho’s hands moved with a sense of urgency, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel all of you. His lips, burning with desire, trailed down your body, each kiss more fervent than the last. Every touch felt electrifying, like sparks igniting under his fingertips. The heat of his body against yours made everything else fade away, leaving only the intensity of the moment.
You arched into him, your breath shallow and erratic as he explored you, the anticipation building with every passing second. His lips returned to yours, deep and demanding, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your heart race even faster. You could feel his muscles tense beneath you, his control slipping away as his need for you grew stronger.
Minho’s hand slid to the waistband of your pants, pausing for a split second before he pulled them off, his gaze fixed on you, dark and smoldering. “You’re sure, right?” he asked again, his voice hushed but filled with raw, unfiltered desire.
You could barely nod, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze making it hard to focus on anything but him. “I’m sure,” you breathed out, pulling him closer, your hands working to rid him of his clothes. You didn’t need to think anymore, there was only now, only the way he made you feel.
Minho groaned as he undid the rest of his clothes, his body pressing into yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. You could feel the hard line of him against your thigh, his breath ragged as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear.
"I don't think I can wait," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair, his breath hot against your skin. "I want you, all of you. I can't stop thinking about it."
His words were a heady mix of desperation and desire, and you wanted nothing more than to give in to his every whim. Your hands moved to his hips, pulling him closer, aching to feel him fill the emptiness inside you. You were more than ready, the longing to have him buried deep within you was almost too much to bear.
"Then take me," you whispered, your voice laced with equal amounts of lust and need. "Make me yours."
Minho didn't waste another moment, his fingers gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He lowered his head, his lips skimming over your skin, kissing a trail of fire across your stomach, then lower.
He teased your entrance, his tongue swiping over you, tasting and exploring, before dipping inside, sending a shiver through your entire body. Your back arched involuntarily, and you gripped his hair, pulling him closer, begging for more.
His hand found yours, and his fingers laced through yours, gripping tightly as he worked his way down, his mouth devouring every inch of your heated flesh. You could feel the waves of pleasure building, but it wasn't enough, not yet.
"Please, Minho," you gasped, your hips bucking as he lapped at your swollen clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. "Please, I need you."
Minho lifted his head, his eyes dark with lust. "What do you need, baby?"
You could barely find the words, the feeling of him against you, his hard length throbbing against your thigh, was driving you wild. "You. You in me," you said, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.
He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear as he pressed his body flush against yours. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific," he murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh, fingertips teasing the sensitive skin.
You shivered, the ache intensifying as his fingers dipped inside you, then withdrew, the slow, tantalizing movements driving you mad. "Minho," you begged, annoyed, unable to articulate what you wanted.
"Tell me," he said, his breath hot against your neck, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back. "Tell me what you need."
"I need your cock," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel him smile against your skin, the warmth of his lips spreading across your neck as he kissed his way down to your chest.
"I need all of you," he replied, his hand traveling down your stomach and settling between your thighs. "I need to be buried inside you, deep and hard, until you can't take it anymore."
"Please, Minho," you said, arching into him, the heat pooling between your legs, his fingers teasing your slick folds. "Please."
Minho groaned, his hips rolling into yours, the hard line of his cock rubbing against you, his restraint slipping. He kissed your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming.
He broke away, his breathing ragged, his fingers sliding up and down your wetness, his touch setting every nerve ending ablaze. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking him slowly, your eyes locked on his.
"Do it," you breathed, desperate for him, aching for the connection. "Take me."
Minho groaned, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed you back, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders. You could see the tension in his muscles, the strain of holding back, but he couldn't wait any longer.
With a shuddering breath, he slid into you, the feeling of him filling you sending a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You moaned, clinging to him, your nails raking over his skin, your hips bucking, craving more.
He began to move, his pace slow and steady, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he fought to control himself. You could feel his muscles tensing, the power and strength behind his every thrust sending a shiver of anticipation through your body.
You gasped, the feeling of him stretching you, the sensation of him moving inside you, was almost too much to handle. He reached between you, his fingers brushing against your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.
"More," you moaned, unable to get enough, the pressure building deep within you.
He obliged, his hips snapping against yours, his pace quickening as he drove deeper and harder into you. You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He growled, his fingers working your clit, his other hand digging into the sheets beside your head.
The pleasure was overwhelming, but every time you began to unravel, he slowed, dragging out the sensations, taking his time. You were lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, every sensation amplified, each touch, each thrust, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Minho leaned over, his lips finding yours, his tongue swirling around yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned into his mouth, the heat of him, the feel of him, was driving you wild. You could feel the tension building inside him, the pressure coiling in his body as his thrusts became more erratic, more desperate.
"Please," you breathed, desperate for release. "Please just let me cum."
"Not yet," he groaned, his breath ragged, his hips snapping against yours, the feeling of him sliding in and out of you was almost enough to make you fall apart. "Not until I say so."
He kept moving, the pressure building inside you, the need for release so intense, so overwhelming. You moaned, biting down on your lip, trying to hold back, but it was no use.
"Fuck," he cursed, his hips bucking, the pleasure threatening to spill over.
"Minho, please," you pleaded, your body trembling, the edge of the precipice just out of reach.
"Cum," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, his fingers still working your clit, "now."
You cried out, the intensity of your release tearing through you, the world around you spinning as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Minho growled, his grip tightening on you, his hips bucking wildly as he came, spilling into you, the feeling indescribable.
The world was hazy, the intensity of the pleasure still coursing through your veins, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You clung to him, the sweat-soaked sheets tangled around your bodies, his lips trailing kisses along your skin, his hands stroking your hair.
You were still reeling from the high, the room slowly coming into focus. Your breath was shaky, the aftershocks of your release rippling through your body.
Minho shifted, his hand brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
"I love you too," you said, pulling him closer, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear.
The reality of what had happened settled over you, the knowledge that this could change everything. But as you lay there, curled up in his arms, you knew that no matter what happened next, this was worth it.
"Win the race," He said, pressing against your lower stomach as if he were talking to it, instantly making you laugh, even with the little energy in your body. "Because I can't wait to meet you."
And the idea, the prospect of it all, suddenly felt a lot less scary.
Minho rolled over, pulling you close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, the sound of his heartbeat filling the quiet room. There was still so much ahead, the road was still uncertain, but in this moment, all that mattered was him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Changbin :
It was the kind of lazy day you didn’t get often: just the two of you sprawled out in the bed, wrapped up in each other. The sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm rays on the blankets as the soft hum of the city outside barely reached your ears. Changbin’s strong arms held you close, one hand gently brushing the back of your head as his chin rested atop it. His body heat was comforting, and for a moment, you could forget about everything outside of the little bubble the two of you created.
You’d spent the entire morning in each other's company, moving between soft kisses, playful banter, and occasional teasing as the hours slipped away. Changbin was content, in his element, basking in the warmth of your presence, literally. You could tell by how tightly he held you, never wanting to let go, always wanting to be near you. You both always seemed to have the best days together when you didn’t have anywhere to be.
But then, as if the universe decided it was time for something to shift in the peacefulness of the moment, you made a suggestion that threw everything into an entirely different, far more intimate direction.
You tilted your head, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in yours. “Binnie,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a more serious tone.
He hummed in response, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm. “Hm?”
"I think it’s time we make a baby."
There was a beat of silence before Changbin’s eyes widened, his arms momentarily stiffening around you, as though trying to process your words. His brow furrowed, mouth slightly agape, the playful smirk that usually never left his face faltering for just a moment.
“W-What?” His voice cracked as he pulled back a little to look at you. He blinked a few times, clearly stunned. “You’re... serious?”
You nodded, a little too pleased with the reaction, but then you noticed how flustered he looked, his dark eyes wide and the hint of a blush creeping up his neck. It was cute. So cute that you couldn’t hold back a small chuckle.
Changbin quickly recovered, a mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m always your baby,” he said with a teasing smirk, his voice playful again.
You raised an eyebrow, your smile widening as you saw through his attempt to make light of the situation. “You sure about that? Because I’m ready for another baby now, Binnie.”
The teasing glimmer in his eyes faltered once more as his gaze dropped to your lips, and he could see that you weren’t joking. There was an undeniable sincerity in your expression, and it made his heart skip a beat. The playful energy between you shifted, his face slowly turning red as the words finally sank in.
“You’re serious?” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat.
You nodded again, leaning in to press your lips to his, but this time, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was deep, slow, and filled with something that had both of your hearts racing in unison.
When you pulled away, Changbin’s expression had shifted entirely. His chest was rising and falling faster than before, and you could feel his muscles tense under your fingertips. But what really caught your attention was the bulge pressing against your leg.
“Binnie…” you teased, your voice dripping with amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be that into the idea.”
A small whine escaped Changbin, his arms wrapping tighter around you as his lips sought yours once more. The kiss was a little sloppy, but it only served to make you laugh into it. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you harder, his hands already moving along your sides and down to your thighs.
Changbin was always affectionate with you, even if he wasn't the best at showing it in public. It was always there in the way he looked at you, or the subtle brush of his fingertips against yours when no one was looking, or the sweet compliments he whispered to you when the two of you were alone. But the way his hands slid under your shirt, and the urgency in his kiss told you exactly how he felt in that moment.
You let him lift you off his lap, settling your hips down over his so that he was nestled between your legs. He groaned against your lips, and you felt his growing length straining against his pants.
When he broke the kiss, it was only to help you tug off his shirt. As soon as the garment was tossed aside, he grabbed the hem of yours and pulled it over your head, tossing it behind him, not caring where it landed. Then his lips were back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from you.
You didn't notice his fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans until he pulled away from the kiss to help you out of them, and a few moments later, you were both naked and panting. Changbin's lips were already trailing across your collarbone, his teeth nipping and sucking at your skin, making sure to leave a mark.
Your hands moved down his back, your fingers digging into his flesh as you arched up to meet his lips, his chest pressed firmly against yours.
"Changbin," you whined, his name a breathless sigh on your lips. "Touch me."
He pulled back to look at you, his expression one of pure adoration. He took in your flushed cheeks, the way your eyes were hooded and glassy, your lips parted in anticipation.
"Anything for you," he said softly.
Your body shuddered as his hand traveled up the inside of your thigh, his fingers finding their way between your folds, circling your sensitive bud. You let out a low moan, bucking against him.
"I can't wait any longer," you panted.
"Neither can I."
Without warning, he flipped you onto your back, hovering above you. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face as he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity that made your toes curl.
When he finally broke the kiss, he reached down to grab a condom from the drawer of his nightstand, sort of like muscle memory at this point. But before he could get a chance to open the wrapper, you stopped him, placing your hand on his.
"Binnie," you breathed. "You don't need that."
His eyes met yours, the question written all over his face. You just nodded, and a wide grin spread across his face.
"Whatever you want," he whispered, and he threw the package onto the floor.
His fingers returned to their earlier spot between your legs, stroking up and down the slick heat before slipping a finger inside you, followed by another. Your breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping your throat, and you rocked against his hand.
After a few moments, Changbin pulled his fingers out, replacing them with the tip of his cock. He slowly eased into you, and a breathless gasp left your lips as he filled you completely.
He paused for a second, his forehead resting against yours, and then he began to move, the feeling of his hips rolling against yours overwhelming you. The pace was slow and sensual, and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the quiet creaking of the mattress as he moved above you.
As you stared into his eyes, the emotions swirling within them were too intense, too intimate, so you closed your own, letting yourself drown in the feeling of his body against yours, his cock filling you up with each thrust.
Your hands found their way to his back, clutching at his shoulder blades, and his lips brushed against your neck. Your bodies were so close that you could feel his heartbeat thundering against your chest.
It was too much.
You wanted to feel him deeper, to pull him closer. So you hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him in until you were almost completely flush with one another. You could feel every inch of him, and it made your stomach flutter.
The new angle allowed him to go deeper, his cock hitting a spot that made your breath hitch. Your nails dug into his back, and you buried your face in his neck. "Binnie," you mumbled, and his fingers laced through yours, pinning your hands to the bed above your head.
He was everywhere. His skin was hot, his touch burning. Every part of you was connected, and the way he moved was sending you over the edge. Your head was spinning. Pleasure pulsed through your body, building higher and higher. Changbin's lips had moved down to your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin.
When he bit down on the base of your throat, you arched into him, letting out a loud moan. "Please... Please," you pleaded, and he groaned in response.
He continued his pace, the feeling of your body against his becoming more and more overwhelming. You were close, you could tell. You were just waiting for the moment that you fell, waiting for him to push you over the edge.
Just as you were about to reach your peak, he stopped moving altogether, pulling out of you completely. Your eyes shot open and you looked up at him, a frustrated whine slipping out. "Binnie, why..."
He brought his fingers back to your clit, teasing and circling it, and your eyes fluttered shut. His lips were against your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck. "You look so beautiful like this," he whispered. "All hot and needy for me."
Your breathing grew ragged as he worked at your clit, sending sparks through your body, and your legs tightened around his waist. "Binnie, I... Please..." you panted. "Please don't stop..."
The moment his cock re-entered you, a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your back arch against him. Your legs squeezed tighter around him, keeping him buried deep inside of you as he began moving again, thrusting harder and faster this time. Your orgasm was coming.
"Let go for me," he commanded.
With a loud cry, you let go, and your orgasm tore through your body. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning his name over and over as he fucked you through it, prolonging the bliss. The feeling was indescribable, and for a brief moment, everything in the world felt right.
It was only a few seconds later that you felt Changbin shudder as his release shot into you, filling you with hot warmth. Your name fell from his lips, breathy and desperate.
His hips slowed to a stop, and he pulled out, rolling over to lay next to you, a smile tugging at his lips. You didn’t move, just letting your head fall onto his shoulder and your arm wrap around his torso. Your legs were shaking and your heart was racing, but you couldn’t stop the content smile on your face.
You turned your head slightly, pressing your lips against his shoulder. It felt like an eternity since the last time you'd both been intimate with one another like that, and you almost wanted to laugh at how natural it felt. But Changbin shifted, turning onto his side to face you, his fingers brushing across your cheek.
"You okay?" he murmured.
Your heart swelled as his eyes searched yours, a concerned expression on his face, his brows slightly furrowed. He was worried about you. He always was. And it was in moments like these that you really saw it, felt it. The love in his touch.
You smiled, nodding slowly, letting yourself get lost in the deep, dark brown pools of his eyes. You felt warm all over, a content, almost sleepy feeling overtaking you. "I love you," you said softly, and he smiled.
"I love you too."
With that, you pressed your lips to his in a brief but loving kiss. When you broke apart, you couldn't help the giddy smile that spread across your face. You let your eyes wander over him, and you felt yourself melt into his arms. You'd never felt happier than in his embrace.
He was warm and soft, his breathing slow and steady, his skin hot against yours. Your fingertips lightly brushed over his collarbones and across his shoulder, making goosebumps break out across his skin.
After a few more moments of basking in each other's presence, you shifted your position, scooting closer so that you were able to curl yourself into him, your head resting against his chest.
"Okay, I'm ready for round two now,"
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Hyunjin :
The soft hum of Hyunjin’s paintbrush against the canvas was almost soothing, the steady strokes of his arm adding layer after layer to the masterpiece in front of him. His studio smelled like oil paints and creativity, with light spilling in through the tall windows, casting a golden hue on everything. He was lost in his work, just the way he liked it, completely immersed.
But you missed him. And right now, with the pull of your body, the warmth of your desire, you couldn’t help but want him close.
With a quiet smile, you slipped out of your bedroom, putting on nothing but his oversized shirt, the fabric reaching mid-thigh. You padded down the hallway, your steps slower than usual as the heat between your legs reminded you of the feeling growing in your core. It wasn’t something that could be ignored, and the fact that Hyunjin was so close made the need even more intense.
You reached his studio, and as you poked your head around the doorframe, your heart skipped when you saw him still focused on his painting. A smirk tugged at your lips. You waddled in, walking with purpose as you made your way toward him. He glanced up, surprised by the soft sound of your footsteps before a soft chuckle escaped him.
"Hey, darling," he greeted, his voice warm and inviting. His smile was like the first rays of the sun breaking through the clouds, and you could feel your pulse quicken in response. He leaned back in his chair, arms outstretched, expecting you to crawl into his lap.
You didn’t waste any time. Before he could say another word, you were on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his, demanding the attention you craved. His body stiffened for a moment, but then he melted into you, pulling you closer as your kisses deepened. You could feel his surprise mixed with fondness in the way his hands gripped your waist.
“Love, what’s up?” he murmured between kisses, a playful glint in his eyes. “You miss me that much?”
You pulled away slightly, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you looked him over, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You didn’t even try to hold back, letting the feeling of desire overwhelm you. “I want to make a baby right now.”
Hyunjin blinked, processing your words. His lips curled into that teasing, sexy smile of his, and you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your sudden forwardness. “Ah, are you tired of me painting on you? Would you rather I finish in you instead?” His voice was smooth, every word dripping with his signature charm.
You froze, face feeling hot. "Hyunjin!" you gasped, swatting at his chest playfully, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye. "I'm serious!"
The mischievous glint in his eyes softened, and his arms tightened around you, bringing you flush against his chest. "I know you are," he said, his tone now filled with affection and sincerity. "And I love the idea." His voice lowered, almost a whisper as he leaned in close, brushing his lips across your ear. “Can we make a baby now?”
Your heart raced, and the sheer intensity in his voice made you forget about your nervousness. The room felt smaller, more intimate as he pulled back to look at you, a mix of excitement and love in his gaze.
“You really want to?” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes, your body practically humming with desire.
“Well, I need to go back to my painting, love,” he murmured, voice thick with affection but also a hint of teasing. “I’ll be done soon, and then we can—”
“No.” You interrupted him playfully, your lips landing on his jaw, trailing kisses along the path of his neck as you pressed your body fully against his. “I don’t want to wait, Hyunjin. I want you, right now.”
His breath hitched, and you could feel the shiver run through his body. His grip on you tightened, and you smiled against his neck, knowing the effect you had on him.
You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you in for a heated kiss. His hands then slipped beneath the shirt that you put on, his fingertips finding their way to your half-hardened nipples. His lips found your jaw, placing featherlight kisses along your skin, before trailing lower, stopping at the base of your neck.
He let out a soft hum of approval, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He loved marking you, making sure that everyone knew that you belonged to him. You leaned into him, wanting him to have better access to the sensitive skin.
As he started sucking on your skin, you felt yourself relax, the warmth of his touch calming the desire burning within you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip. The sound of his lips against your skin was enough to send shivers down your spine, and the feeling of his mouth on your skin was electrifying.
His fingers dipped lower, reaching between your legs. You spread your thighs, allowing him easier access. As his fingertips brushed against your folds, you could feel how wet you already were.
His lips parted, and his breath caught. "So wet, love," he breathed, his voice thick with awe and wonder.
You whined, pressing your body closer to his, needing him inside you. "Hyunjin," you moaned softly, your fingers digging into his biceps, "fuck me, please."
His arms wrapped around you, lifting you up and carrying you over to his desk, where he placed you down, your bare back hitting the cold surface. Your head spun at the sudden change of position, the room shifting from vertical to horizontal in an instant.
But Hyunjin was already tugging down his sweats and boxers, letting them fall around his ankles before kicking them off. His cock sprung free, standing proud and tall, and you bit your lip, admiring the sight. His tip glistened with precum, and you could see his erection twitch.
"I'm going to fuck a baby into you," he promised, and the words alone sent a fresh wave of arousal through your body. "So take every drop, okay?"
You nodded, spreading your legs, eager and waiting for him to enter you. Your whole body was buzzing, the anticipation making you tremble with excitement.
"Not yet, if I don't prepare you," he said, and before you could react, he pushed two fingers inside your core, "it'll hurt."
A small gasp escaped you, the intrusion taking you by surprise, but it was a good kind of surprise, one that left you feeling lightheaded and desperate for more. Your eyes fluttered shut as he moved his fingers in and out, stretching you.
He added a few more fingers before pulling out, the slick coating his digits. "There," he purred, pumping his own length to lubricate it, "ready?"
You didn't need to answer, your legs opening wide as an invitation. Hyunjin leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. It was tender and slow, but filled with desire, and you could feel the intensity of his love for you.
Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly at the soft locks. The sensation caused him to moan softly, and he broke the kiss, panting slightly. His dark eyes were filled with lust and desire, and you couldn't help but let out a small whimper, eager for more.
He positioned his length against your entrance, the tip just barely dipping inside. He held it there for a moment, his other hand caressing your thigh. Biting down on your bottom lip, too excited to form words. You couldn't take it anymore, and with a slight wiggle of your hips, you urged him inside.
"Patience, love," he murmured, and you could hear the teasing in his tone.
He pushed inside, his cock stretching your walls, and you couldn't stop the moan that fell from your lips. He buried himself deep within you, his length filling you up. He began to move, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being inside you.
His hands moved to cup your breasts, gently squeezing and kneading the mounds, teasing the peaks. You arched into him, craving more.
"You're so perfect," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "You're so tight around me."
You could only whimper, words escaping you. His praises were music to your ears, and the feel of his cock moving inside you made your head spin. His slow pace itching your walls, the friction sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.
His lips were on yours again, kissing you hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted him, his scent intoxicating, the smell of oil paints and his natural musk making your head spin.
He broke the kiss, panting softly, his lips moving to your neck. He trailed kisses along the curve of your shoulder, and you could feel his teeth nipping at your skin. You were losing yourself in the feeling, the sensations overwhelming you.
His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, and you were gasping and moaning, completely at his mercy.
"You're taking me so well, baby," he cooed, his words sending a thrill through your body.
He quickened the pace for you, and you were clinging to him, your nails digging into his skin. He was relentless, his thrusts not incredibly fast, but powerful, his hands moving to grip your waist, pulling you close as he fucked into you.
Your mind was clouded, the only thing registering was the way his cock stretched and filled you, his fingers playing with your breasts, his lips leaving a trail of kisses across your neck and shoulders.
"I love you," you gasped, and he moaned into your skin in response, his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck.
He was lost in your warmth, in the feeling of being inside you, and the room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, your soft moans and whimpers, his breathy pants and low groans. It was almost too much for you, the sensations threatening to push you over the edge, the coil within your abdomen winding tighter and tighter.
"You're going to cum for me, baby," Hyunjin murmured, his voice thick with need and desire. "And you're going to cum for our baby, too."
That was all you needed to hear to send you spiraling into a mind-blowing orgasm, your walls clamping around his cock, and your fingers digging into his shoulders. You moaned loudly, unable to control yourself as your climax crashed into you like a tidal wave. Hyunjin's pace stuttered, and you felt his release inside you, filling you to the brim.
"I love you so much," Hyunjin breathed, pulling you into a deep kiss.
As he pulled away, your body suddenly felt empty, but Hyunjin suddenly slipped two fingers inside your pussy, the wetness and slick of both your arousal and cum allowing him to glide them in. "Full of me, love," he hummed in appreciation as you tightened your grip around him, whimpering, still sensitive.
"I know baby, it's so much, but I told to you take every single drop." he kissed your forehead gently and slipped in a third finger, stretching you slightly. "You can do that for me right?"
Your body shuddered in his grasp, and you felt his other hand gently rub your tummy. "You're gonna be so big," Hyunjin purred, kissing your cheeks, "and I can't wait to see our baby inside you, and everyone's going to be able to see the work of art I created inside of you. Everyone will know."
"Hyunjin..." you panted, still catching your breath after your orgasm, and the image he created in your mind sent your mind spinning once more.
"I think this will be my best piece yet, hm?"
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Han Jisung :
The warm glow of the living room lamp bounced softly off the walls as you sprawled lazily across the couch, your head resting comfortably in Jisung's lap. His focus was pinned to the TV screen in front of you, fingers flying over the controller in a frenzied attempt to beat whatever game had stolen his attention. The faint sound of rapid button mashing mixed with his occasional muttering under his breath, a mix of self-encouragement and exaggerated complaints about the game mechanics.
Jisung in his element was a sight to behold. His lips parted slightly in concentration, his sharp jawline flexing whenever he gritted his teeth at a missed combo. The sleeveless shirt he wore hung loose around his lean frame, leaving his toned arms on full display. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander, imagining how your child could inherit those features: the cheeky grin, the soft yet angular face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too hard.
The thought planted itself so firmly in your head that the words tumbled out before you could second-guess yourself.
“Jisung,” you said casually, letting your hand drift lazily over his thigh, “you ever think about making a baby with me?”
For a moment, his reaction was nonexistent. He grunted in response, still laser-focused on the game.
“Mm-hmm, yeah, babe. Just hold on, I’m about to beat this guy--”
And then it hit him.
His hands froze on the controller, his character on the screen taking a hit as he snapped his head down to look at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Wait, what?!”
You stifled a laugh at his reaction, the tips of his ears already beginning to turn red. He stared at you, completely speechless, mouth agape as if waiting for you to break into laughter and tell him it was just a joke. When you didn’t, he sputtered helplessly, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Han Jisung,” you said again, this time with a mischievous lilt to your voice, “how would you feel about putting a baby in me sometime soon?”
“Yah, stop it!” he sputtered, his voice jumping an octave as he frantically mashed at the controller, trying to pause the game but failing miserably in his flustered state. “You can’t just say stuff like that when I’m in the middle of—of…”
“…this!” he finally blurted, his voice cracking slightly as he slammed the pause button with a frustrated jab. The screen froze mid-action, his character caught in a losing battle, but Jisung didn’t seem to care. He stared down at you, his lips parted in disbelief, his cheeks now a fiery shade of red.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, setting the controller down on the cushion beside him. His hands flew to his face, covering his flushed expression as if it would shield him from your teasing. “Who even says that so casually?”
You grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction far too much. “What?” you asked innocently, though the mischievous glint in your eyes gave you away. “It’s not like I’m asking for a baby right now. I’m just saying… you’d make a cute dad.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, his brows furrowing. “This is not normal couch talk!” he whined, his voice higher than usual as his brain scrambled to keep up. “You can’t just spring stuff like that on me. I’m trying to focus, and then you go and--”
“Distract you?” you finished for him, your tone light and playful. Sliding your hand up under his shirt, you let your fingers graze over the smooth, warm skin of his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch, and his entire body stiffened as if you’d just short-circuited him.
“D-Doing- that!” he stammered, his voice cracking again. He grabbed your wrist gently but didn’t pull your hand away, his ears burning redder by the second. “You’re being distracting right now, and you know that.”
“Am I?” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him with a sweet smile that only made him more flustered. “You’re just so cute, Ji. Can you blame me for thinking about it? About us? About what it’d be like to have a little Han Jisung running around?”
“Aghhh!” he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “Stop! You’re gonna make me combust or something. I’m already sweaty from this game, and now you’re- ugh, I can’t with you!”
You giggled, loving every second of his over-the-top reaction. “Okay, okay,” you said, patting his chest soothingly. “Breathe, Han. It’s just a thought. A cute little thought. You don’t have to freak out about it that much.”
“I’m not freaking out!” he argued, though his voice cracked once more, betraying him. His wide eyes darted down to yours, his expression softening despite his embarrassment. “I mean… I have thought about it. A little. Not, like, seriously, but…”
“But?” you pressed gently, your teasing tone giving way to genuine curiosity.
He sighed, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “But… the idea isn’t terrible,” he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the hand you still had resting on his stomach. “I just… I wanna be good enough, you know? So that I’d… that I wouldn’t mess it up.”
Your heart swelled at his vulnerability, the way he couldn’t help but let his anxieties surface even in a moment like this. You shifted to sit up, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze back to yours. “Jisung,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his skin. “You’re already good enough. And if you ever doubt it, just look at how much I love you. That should tell you everything.”
His eyes widened for a moment before they softened, his lips curling into a shy smile. “You’re too much,” he mumbled, leaning into your touch. “Seriously. How am I supposed to focus on anything when you’re like this?”
“Maybe you’re not supposed to,” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe this is my way of saying… you’ve already won the game, Jisung. You’ve already got me.”
-
The clock ticked closer to midnight, the soft hum of the heater filling the cozy silence of the living room. You’d already changed into your favorite oversized t-shirt for bed, hair loosely tied back as you padded barefoot across the carpet. Jisung was still glued to the TV, his earlier embarrassment mostly forgotten as he focused intently on beating the level that had eluded him earlier.
You stopped just short of him, arms crossed, tilting your head with an amused smirk. “Still at it, huh?”
He glanced at you briefly, flashing an apologetic grin. “Almost there, baby. Just need a few more minutes. I’m so close.”
Rolling your eyes, you moved closer, draping yourself over the back of the couch so you could peek at the screen. “You’ve been saying that for the past twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he defended, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.
With a sigh, you leaned down further, your hair brushing against his cheek. “Ji,” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, “don’t you think it’s time for bed?”
He froze for a fraction of a second before shaking his head, trying to stay focused. “Just a little longer, promise. I’m almost- no, no, no, almost there!”
You bit back a smile, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed in frustration. He was adorable when he was like this, but you weren’t about to let him get away with ignoring you.
Sliding around the couch, you plopped yourself down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know,” you began, tracing small circles on his arm with your finger, “the game isn’t going anywhere. It’ll still be here tomorrow. But me…” You trailed off, your voice dropping suggestively.
He stiffened slightly, his grip on the controller tightening. “Baby,” he muttered, a warning in his tone. “Don’t do that right now.”
“Do what?” you asked innocently, shifting closer.
“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely at you with one hand while his character took a hit on screen.
You straddled his lap without warning, the controller slipping from his hands as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “Oops,” you said with a cheeky grin.
“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice laced with both exasperation and something warmer. His hands hovered awkwardly by your sides, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer.
You looped your arms around his neck, your movements deliberate as you shifted in his lap. His breath hitched, and you felt the slight twitch of his muscles beneath you. “Come to bed with me, Jisung,” you whispered, leaning in so your lips brushed against his ear. “Unless… you’d rather stay here and let me go to sleep all by myself.”
“Babe,” he choked out, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you in place as if to stop you from moving any further. His ears were blazing red again, his gaze darting anywhere but your face.
“Or,” you continued, tilting his chin up so he had no choice but to look at you, “we could practice making a baby tonight.”
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Jisung looked like his brain had completely short-circuited. His mouth opened and closed a few times, no sound coming out except a faint squeak.
“Wait, you’re- are you serious?” he finally managed, his voice cracking as his grip on your waist tightened slightly.
You leaned in, your lips brushing against his jawline. “What do you think?”
Jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes locking onto yours. The game was long forgotten, and the controller was discarded on the couch beside him. His hands slid up your sides, tentative but firm, as if testing to see if you were really there.
You pressed a soft kiss to his neck, his breath hitching slightly. Your hands were already wandering, sliding over the smooth skin of his arms and tracing along his collarbones. He shivered, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer.
"Mm, so I'm guessing this means you like that idea?" you teased, your lips trailing along his jaw.
"Baby," he whined, his voice already husky and breathless. "I... I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I- I want..."
"What do you want, Ji?"
"You," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. "Always."
"Then take me," you whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
He captured your lips with his, the kiss searing hot and desperate. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, swallowing your moan. He tasted like the peppermint candies he'd been sucking on earlier, sweet and crisp, and the way his mouth moved against yours made your head spin.
He pulled away after a moment, his lips already swollen, chest heaving. His eyes met yours, dark and clouded with desire, and he looked like he was ready to devour you.
"Do you really... mean it? You'd let me make a baby with you?"
You couldn't help but laugh at the hesitant tone of his voice, at how cute it was that he was still checking for confirmation. "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. Yes, Jisung. I want a baby with you. I want you to put a baby in me."
His eyes lit up, his cheeks flushing bright pink, and for a second he almost looked innocent. But the way his hands tugged impatiently at your shirt and his eyes raked hungrily over your body was anything but.
"So what are we waiting for, then?" he said, his voice low.
You grinned, letting him pull the shirt over your head and toss it carelessly to the floor. "Absolutely nothing."
-
Jisung's hands were everywhere, his lips tracing hot kisses along the column of your neck as he backed you into the bedroom. Your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he was on top of you in an instant, his hands grasping at your thighs. His hands spread out on the underside of your thighs, lifting them up so he could position himself between them.
The way his hands moved over your body was possessive, almost primal, his eyes dark and hooded as they locked onto yours. He ground his hips into yours, and the hard bulge of his cock pressing into you had you biting back a moan.
"You want this?" he whispered, his voice dripping with desire.
"God, yes," you breathed, tugging at his shirt. "Want you, Jisung."
He leaned back just long enough to strip off his shirt, tossing it aside. "So fucking sexy," he murmured, his hands slipping up your bare thighs. "You're the only one I want. The only one I ever want to put a baby in."
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and with a swift tug, they were gone, discarded somewhere in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your breath caught in your throat, and he paused, his eyes roaming hungrily over your bare body.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands coming up to squeeze at your breasts. "The things you do to me."
"Show me," you whispered, reaching out to stroke him through his boxers. "Show me how much you want this, baby."
He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking into your hand. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "I'm gonna- gonna fuck a baby into you."
The words went straight to your core, and you couldn't stop the whimper that slipped past your lips. He was so close, his warm breath fanning across your face, his hands already roaming over your body. He reached between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet folds, and a soft moan escaped him.
"Look how wet you are, baby. So wet for me," he murmured, his finger sliding through your slick folds and circling around your clit. "How long was I keeping you waiting for this?"
You let out a gasp as he slid a finger into you, your walls clenching around him. "All week," you breathed, hips bucking involuntarily as he pumped his finger in and out.
He smirked, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit as his finger curled inside you. "Mm, poor baby," he cooed. "You've been so needy for my cock, haven't you?"
"God, yes," you whimpered, arching into his touch.
"So impatient," he teased, adding a second finger and pumping faster. "You want me to fill you up, don't you? To fuck you until you can't take it anymore?"
You moaned, his dirty words only heightening your arousal. He curled his fingers inside you, and you writhed, his name falling from your lips. "Yes, yes, please, Ji, I need-"
He leaned in, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me what you need, baby."
"Your cock," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Want your cock, Ji, please."
His lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Anything for you, baby. Anything for the mother of my child."
The words sent a rush of heat through you, and he slid his fingers out of you, the ache of emptiness already setting in. You watched him strip off his boxers, the sight of his hard cock sending another wave of arousal through you.
He gripped the base, the head flushed and leaking with precum. "Tell me, Y/N. Tell me where you want my cum."
You spread your legs, his eyes fixated on the glistening folds between them. "Inside me," you breathed, the ache becoming unbearable. "Please, Ji, I want it all."
He stroked himself, his thumb swiping over the head and spreading the precum. "Mm, so good, baby," he groaned, his free hand grasping at your thigh and guiding your legs apart.
"Need you," you whined, your walls clenching around nothing.
"You'll have me," he promised, lining himself up with your entrance. He rubbed the head along your folds, and you moaned, his name spilling from your lips.
"Jisung, please," you begged, hips bucking as you tried to press him deeper.
"Tell me how bad you want it," he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head. "Tell me how bad you want a little Han Jisung."
"So bad," you moaned, your hands grasping at his back. "Please, Ji, give me everything. Fill me up, put a baby in me, please, I'm-"
The rest of your words dissolved into a cry as he slid inside you, his thick cock stretching your walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust in, bottoming out in one swift movement.
"So fucking tight," he hissed, his head falling forward as he took a moment to collect himself.
"So big," you whimpered, shifting beneath him and feeling the fullness.
"And all yours," he murmured, starting to move inside you. He rocked his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, hitting just the right spot to make your toes curl.
"Ji," you moaned, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him. "God, I love you."
"Love you, too," he breathed, his voice strained. His rhythm was relentless, his thrusts quick and deep, the sounds of your pleasure mingling together.
Your hips rose to meet his, and his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart even further. "So beautiful," he muttered, his eyes fixated on the way you clenched around him.
He leaned forward, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as his cock slammed into you. You arched off the bed, a high-pitched cry escaping your lips. His mouth trailed along your jaw, sucking a mark into your skin.
Suddenly he took your hand in his and pressed on your lower stomach, pushing down hard as his thrusts grew more frantic.
"Feel that, baby? Feel my cock in you?" he growled. "Can you feel the way it stretches you, the way it fills you up? That's me putting a baby in you."
You couldn't form any coherent words, your cries rising in pitch as the pressure built inside you. You felt yourself start to unravel, your body shaking, his name tumbling from your lips. You couldn't hold back anymore, his words pushing you over the edge. Your walls clenched around him, pleasure surging through your body as he pounded into you. You cried out, waves of ecstasy washing over you as he fucked you through your orgasm.
He didn't slow down, his movements becoming more erratic, his grip on your thighs tightening. You were barely starting to come down when he buried himself deep inside you, a hoarse groan escaping his lips.
His hips jerked, his cock pulsing as he came. His cum filled you, warm and thick, his hips grinding against yours as his release spilled into you. His name fell from your lips again, a breathless sigh, and his thrusts slowed, his body shuddering above yours.
He stayed there for a moment, panting, his eyes half-lidded and his gaze hazy. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, and he melted into you.
You both lay there, tangled together, your breathing slowly evening out. He held you close, his hands stroking your hair. Your limbs were still tingling, your mind fuzzy.
After a few minutes of laying in each other's arms, he pulled away, and you felt the sudden emptiness, his cum dripping out of you. His eyes widened at the sight.
"Did- Did I do that? I'm sorry," he muttered, reaching for a tissue.
You couldn't help but laugh softly at his panic. "It's okay, baby. I told you to."
He blushed, his ears reddening again. "Oh, right. Still... sorry, I'm a little out of it."
You giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You did good."
He looked down, his gaze soft and his lips curving into a shy smile. "I'm glad," he murmured, cleaning you both up before laying back down beside you.
You curled up in his arms, and his fingers trailed over your skin, gentle and soothing. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.
His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into your touch. "We should... do it again. When I'm not so tired," he murmured.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Felix :
It was a peaceful night. The kind where the whole world feels like it’s settled into a comfortable, lazy rhythm. You and Felix were lying in bed, cuddled up under the blankets, the soft hum of the night settling around you both. His hand was gently resting on your waist, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.
But despite the calm, there was something on your mind, something you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days. Baby fever.
Not just baby fever, but the idea of him leaving any kind of indication that he was yours on you. Love bites, marks, bites, anything.
And it wasn’t like you were planning on having a baby tomorrow (you were still young, after all), but the thought had been growing, and now you couldn’t stop it. Felix had always been someone you pictured with kids, with his soft smile, his playful personality, and the way he always seemed so gentle and caring.
You would always think of how your kid would inherit his traits, his eyes, his freckles, his smile. Maybe the baby would have his characteristics too.
You shifted slightly, turning over to face him, your body pressing a little closer to his. Felix looked down at you with a soft, sleepy smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were still filled with the warmth of the moment, not yet aware of the direction your thoughts were heading.
Felix hummed, and you took a deep breath, staring up at him with a mixture of hesitation and boldness.
"Felix... Why don't you ever mark me up?" you asked suddenly, catching him off guard. His eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifting from your face to your lips and back up again.
"Mark you?" he echoed, his deep voice scratching your ear, a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Like... how?"
You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure as your pulse picked up speed. "You know... like... with your teeth, your lips, something... I dunno. Sometimes, I just want to feel... marked."
Felix blinked in surprise. His hand paused mid-air as if he was considering your words carefully, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Is... that something you'd want me to do?" he asked in a soft, almost timid tone, his accent adding a cute layer to his question, looking down at you as if trying to read your expression.
You nodded slowly, a small, teasing smile curling at the edges of your lips. "Yeah... I kind of want that."
Before you could continue, Felix’s lips descended on your neck, his teeth already gently nipping at the sensitive skin. You gasped softly, your hands immediately tangling into his hair. He was submissive in the way he was responding, eagerly giving you exactly what you’d asked for. His lips were warm against your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
Felix pulled back slightly, breathing heavily against your neck, his lips still brushing against your skin. His voice was hushed, almost reverent. "Is this what you wanted?" he whispered, his hands resting on your sides, gently guiding you closer.
You nodded again, but this time, your fingers didn’t stop at his hair. You slid them down his back, pulling him closer, your breath catching as you tried to find the words.
"I..." You faltered, trying to figure out what exactly you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do, but nothing seemed right. You didn't want him to stop, and you couldn't think of a better way to ask him for what you really wanted.
Felix was looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his, and the thought flashed through your head, and you blurted it out before you could change your mind. "I also... have been thinking about kids, lately. Not- not just in general. But with you, specifically."
His eyes widened slightly, and his blush deepened. A deep noise escaped him, and then he smiled, the same gentle, loving smile he'd always given you. He didn't say anything, though, but his hands shifted lower on your waist, a silent reassurance that he'd heard what you'd said, and he understood.
Felix's lips returned to your neck, kissing a path down the column of your throat. "When would you want that?" he murmured, and the way his words were muffled by your skin sent a pleasant tingle through your body.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure and speak through the haze. "Someday, someday. But not anytime soon. I just want... you to know that I think about it, sometimes. And I think you would be an amazing dad."
He paused, his lips resting on your shoulder. Then, a small smile curled his lips. He leaned in and kissed you softly, and you could taste the smile on his lips. "I think about that too," he murmured, his voice so soft and vulnerable that you couldn't help but melt against him.
"Do you want to know what else I think about?" he whispered, his breath warm on your cheek. "What else I've been thinking about?"
You shivered, closing your eyes and leaning closer to him. You nodded, biting your lip and trying not to look as excited as you were.
He smiled against your lips, a small laugh escaping him. "I've been thinking about this," he breathed, and then he pressed his hips forward, his half-hard length rubbing against your inner thigh. "And this," he continued, sliding his hands down to grip your ass. "And this," he continued, slipping his fingers under your underwear, stroking along the curve of your butt.
His hands slipped underneath your shirt, running up the length of your stomach and cupping your breasts, gently squeezing.
Your heart pounded against his chest, and your hands slid down his back, slipping inside the waistband of his boxers. He sucked in a sharp breath when your fingertips brushed against his ass. You squeezed him gently, a low hum vibrating from the base of your throat.
"Mmm... and you too," you replied, arching your back slightly and pressing your chest further into his hands. "I think about the way your fingers feel, the way you kiss me, the way you hold me."
"And what do you think about, when I hold you like this?" he whispered, his hands moving lower, his fingers dancing along your thighs. "When I touch you like this?"
He moved his hands down, gently parting your thighs, his fingers tracing along the sensitive skin between your legs. Your breath caught, and you let out a soft moan, your hands sliding up to clutch his shoulders.
"I think about the way you're gonna make me feel. And I can't wait until the day that I'm carrying your child," you answered, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.
Felix's hands stilled, and he stared down at you, his eyes dark with desire.
"God," he groaned, and the sound was so raw, so desperate, that it sent a rush of heat straight to your core. His eyes flicked down to your lips, his fingers moving up and tracing circles over the sensitive spot above your entrance.
You whined, trying not to move and press your hips into his touch. He chuckled, his fingers circling lazily. "And how long have you been thinking about that, huh? What made you bring it up?" he asked, his voice husky.
"Mmm..." you sighed, arching your back and squeezing his shoulder. "Maybe... a week? Or two? But I can't get the thought out of my head."
His breath hitched, his fingers slowing, and then stopping.
"A week," he echoed, his eyes fixed on yours, his lips parted slightly. "You've been thinking about this for a week."
You nodded, trying not to squirm under his intense stare.
"Yeah. I... I think it would be a great thing to have with you."
He was silent for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. His lips curled up into a mischievous smirk, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Then why don't we start practicing?" he suggested, his voice low and seductive, sending a wave of heat through your body.
You let out a shaky breath, nodding quickly. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck, before pulling back and grabbing the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, his hands running up the smooth planes of your stomach, cupping your breasts.
You reached for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it over his head, before sliding your hands up his chest. He smiled, his hands returning to your hips, and pulling you flush against his chest.
"So you want me to mark you up? Bite and scratch and claim you?" he asked, his lips brushing over the skin of your throat.
"Yes," you gasped, tilting your head to the side and giving him more access to your neck.
He let his teeth scrape lightly over the side of your neck.
"You want me to leave my mark all over your body?" he continued, his voice low and husky.
"Mmmhmm," you moaned, clutching his shoulders and pulling him closer.
"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe.
You shivered, your hips rolling against his. "Yes," you breathed. "Yes, god, please. Do it."
Felix chuckled, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
"Okay then, anything for you, princess," he purred, the tone in his voice changing to a sweeter one, his lips trailing down to the hollow of your throat.
You let out a moan as his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He nipped lightly at your neck, his tongue flicking over the skin. His lips trailed lower, his mouth latching onto the swell of your breast. He bit down lightly, a sharp intake of breath escaping you. His tongue traced over the small red mark left by his teeth, soothing the skin.
You whined, pushing your hips against his, trying to create some friction. He smirked, his fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass.
"Patience," he chided, his tongue swiping over the mark again.
"Oh, I'm so patient," you breathed, arching your back.
Felix chuckled, his tongue lapping over the mark once more, before he moved down, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the valley between your breasts. He stopped when he reached the bottom of the valley, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh.
His thumbs rubbed circles around your nipples, the tips of his fingers tweaking them, his eyes watching the way your body reacted. You arched into his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin, the rough calluses sending delicious sparks of electricity through you. It felt like his mouth was hitting every right spot, the combination making your head spin. Taking his time to make sure they really left a dark mark on you.
Felix let go of one breast, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers circled around the apex of your thighs, his thumb rubbing light, teasing circles over your clit.
You gasped, your hands grabbing at the sheets beneath you, trying to steady yourself. He laughed softly, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your stomach. His fingers moved lower, stroking between your folds.
"So wet already, baby," he purred, his tongue flicking out over your hip bone.
"Please, Felix," you begged, your body aching for his touch, his closeness, his warmth.
"What do you want, princess? Tell me," he coaxed, his voice low and smooth.
"I want you to make me come," you pleaded, rolling your hips against his fingers.
Felix hummed, his eyes hooded and filled with lust, his fingers still working between your legs.
"You want to come for me?" he teased, his voice dropping even lower.
"Yes, please," you whimpered, the muscles in your thighs beginning to tense.
"You wanna come on my cock?" he rasped, his free hand moving up to squeeze your breast.
"Yes," you moaned, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.
Felix pulled away suddenly, his hands leaving your body, the sudden absence of his warmth making you whine.
"How about you help me get ready for you, baby?" he suggested, a hint of a challenge in his tone.
You immediately sat up, reaching down and yanking his boxers off, his thick cock springing free, standing proudly, the tip flushed red and leaking precum.
You grabbed his length, pumping him a few times, before licking a long stripe up his shaft, swirling your tongue around the head.
Felix moaned, his hands tangling into your hair, his hips rolling up, his cock pressing against the roof of your mouth.
You sucked lightly, your hand stroking his length, his hips bucking up to meet you. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.
You bobbed your head, taking his cock deeper, your tongue swirling around his tip. You took him in until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. He let out a deep groan, his hands tugging at your hair, his hips thrusting forward, his cock sinking deeper.
You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, his head thrown back in pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening. You swirled your tongue around the tip, his hips rocking up, his cock hitting the back of your throat, his fingers twisting in your hair.
You made sure to wet the entire length of him, wanting to ensure that he could slide in with ease, even though he was already incredibly hard. He groaned, his hips jerking forward, his cock bumping against the back of your throat, his eyes meeting yours.
"You ready?" he breathed, his voice husky and dripping with desire.
You nodded, swallowing him down once more before letting go of him, pulling back and licking your lips. He groaned, his hand tightening in your hair.
"Good job, beautiful," he purred, pulling you up and guiding you over his lap, his lips descending on yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moaned, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to slip inside.
His hand slid between your legs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you, his thumb pressing against your clit. You whimpered, grinding down on his fingers, his hand moving lower, his thumb rubbing circles over your entrance.
He pulled back, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, his tongue flicking over the pulse point.
"Felix," you gasped, rolling your hips against his, the need for him growing.
He hummed, his fingers slowly easing into you, stretching you out, preparing you. You moaned, throwing your head back, his name slipping from your lips, his hand tightening on your hip.
"Do you think you can handle me now, baby?" he murmured, his breath tickling the side of your neck.
"Mmm, please," you pleaded, rocking against his hand.
Felix pulled his fingers out, placing them in his mouth and licking them clean, his eyes fixed on yours, he hummed in approval of the taste, making you shiver in anticipation. He grabbed your hips and pressed you against the bed, climbing on top of you and pressing you against the sheets. His lips descended on your neck, his tongue trailing across the skin, leaving hot, wet marks in their wake. His cock was resting against your hip, the thick, hot shaft twitching with the promise of release.
His mouth found your collarbone, his lips and teeth scraping against your skin, a soft moan escaping you, your body aching for more contact with him, your skin craving his warmth, the heat of his body pressing against yours.
"God, Felix," you breathed, your nails digging into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him forward.
He chuckled, his hips thrusting forward, the thick, hard head of his cock pressing against your entrance, before pushing into you, the feeling making your head spin.
He moaned, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands moving down your hips, squeezing your thighs.
"So tight, so good," he purred, his hips pulling back slightly before slamming forward, your head falling back as your body adjusted to the size of him. He began to thrust into you slowly, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, the delicious friction of him moving in and out of you driving you crazy.
"Fuck, Felix, fuck," you cried out, your hips grinding up to meet his every thrust, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He grunted, his lips pressing against your throat, his breath hot against your skin.
He thrust faster, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, trying to stay grounded. Your head swam, your body shaking as his thrusts increased in speed, the pleasure of him moving inside you, filling you up making your mind foggy.
"You like that, huh?" he rasped, his thumb tracing over the tip of your clit, the pressure and the pleasure building.
You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around his shaft, your orgasm building inside of you already, the feeling making you want to scream out his name, the pleasure too overwhelming. He groaned, his fingers rubbing slow, teasing circles around your clit.
"Felix, please slow down," you whimpered, the amount of sensations driving you mad, your hips grinding up against him, desperate for release. He grunted, his thrusts slowing to a teasing pace, his thumb stroking over your clit, your orgasm so close it almost made your vision blurry.
You clung to him, his cock driving into you slowly, your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass. He moaned, his head resting on your shoulder, his hands squeezing your thighs as he moved inside you.
You let out a whimper as his thumb rubbed against your clit, the slow, agonizing friction making your body shudder, your walls tightening around him, the pressure almost too much to take.
He groaned, his hips jerking forward, his cock buried deep inside you, the heat of him making you squirm in anticipation, your walls clenching around him.
"Felix," you panted, the feeling of your impending orgasm making your head spin.
"Yes, princess," he hissed, his lips trailing up the length of your throat, his fingers tracing light patterns on your clit, his thrusts speeding up.
You cried out, your orgasm hitting you like a wave, the pressure building up until it exploded, your walls tightening around him, the delicious heat of him filling you up, your body shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled over you. You let out a cry as you came hard, your toes curling as his thrusts grew frantic, his cock pulsating inside you as your body rocked with pleasure.
He thrust hard, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot, your back arching off of the bed, your hands gripping at his back, the friction and heat driving you crazy.
"Oh fuck, Felix, fuck," you groaned, your voice coming out in a high-pitched whine, the pleasure coursing through you. He let out a grunt, his body tensing above yours as his hips stilled, his cock twitching deep inside you, his body shuddering with release.
"So good, baby, you feel so good," he gasped, his body collapsing against yours, his breathing heavy.
He kissed you deeply, his hand sliding into your hair, tugging lightly at the roots, the pleasure from your orgasm making your body tingle.
"You're so amazing, I love you so much," you mumbled, kissing him back, his lips feeling so warm and perfect against your own.
Felix let out a deep chuckle, his lips brushing against the side of your neck as he buried his face into your shoulder. "I love you too," he murmured, his words tickling your ear, his eyes darkening slightly, the heat from his gaze making you shiver. "How many rounds do you think you can handle tonight? Cause I don't plan on stopping for a while," he whispered, his words sending a spark of heat through you.
You smiled, your hand moving up to his neck and pulling him closer, his body still pressed against yours, your skin hot where it touched him, your heartbeat still hammering in your ears.
"You wanna practice that much?" you teased, your breath catching in your throat as you felt him move against you. "Because I wouldn't mind getting knocked up by you tonight."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Seungmin :
The gentle hum of your bedside fan filled the quiet room, mingling with the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the shifting of your legs. You lay sprawled across your bed, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, though your mind was far from as idle as it seemed. It was one of those lazy afternoons when time stretched endlessly, wrapping you in a hazy cocoon of stillness. Yet, your thoughts were loud, brimming with a strange, newfound energy that had been bubbling up over the past few weeks.
It had started so subtly you almost didn’t notice. You’d catch yourself smiling a little too long at videos of babies giggling uncontrollably or rubbing your thumb over pictures of toddlers in oversized hats like they were some kind of magic talisman. The turning point came when you saw Seungmin with your niece last month. She’d toppled onto her knees in the grass during a family outing, and while you were mid-step to help her, Seungmin beat you there. He knelt beside her, gently brushing dirt from her hands while playfully poking her chubby cheeks to make her laugh. That softness in his eyes, the one he tried so hard to mask behind his sarcastic jabs, lit something within you.
You couldn’t unsee it after that. It wasn’t just how easily he got your niece to smile or how patient he was when she tugged at his hair. It was the tiny glimpse of what life could look like if it wasn’t just the two of you anymore. And while you’d always been on the same page about your future: sweet, simple, and child-free, the idea of bringing a tiny, giggling extension of your love into the world had begun to sneak into your daydreams.
Today, it was impossible to ignore. You’d been scrolling through more videos, babies in pumpkin costumes, toddlers waddling on chubby legs, when the thought crashed into you like a runaway train. It wasn’t just the soft glow of future possibilities that consumed you, it was something much deeper. You imagined his hands on your hips, the warmth of his body pressed to yours, the thought of him letting go of his usual care and filling you completely, nothing between you. The thought had your skin tingling and your heart racing. Seungmin was always so careful, always the responsible one, but you were ready to be reckless. For once, you wanted to see what would happen if he gave in.
"Seungmin!" you called out, your voice cutting through the stillness like a spark in dry grass.
There was a shuffle from the living room, followed by his characteristic faux-annoyed sigh. You could already imagine him rolling his eyes, though you knew better than anyone how much he loved being needed, even if he’d never admit it.
"What now?" he asked as he appeared in the doorway, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation. A towel was slung over his shoulder, his dark hair slightly damp, curling at the ends from a recent shower. He raised an eyebrow at you, the corners of his lips twitching as though he was fighting a grin.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, unable to hide your smile. “I need you.”
“That’s new,” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Last time I checked, you were perfectly capable of surviving an afternoon without me. What changed? Did you finally realize how boring life is without me?”
“You wish,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you with a flush of pink. His playful teasing never failed to make your heart flutter. He smirked, pushing off the doorframe to walk closer, he perched on the edge of the bed, poking your cheek lightly with his finger. “So, what is it this time? Did you get stuck in a Reel rabbit hole again and need me to pull you out? Or are you about to ask me to refill your water bottle because you’re too lazy to move?”
You grabbed his hand to stop the poking, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. “Seungmin,” you said softly, your voice suddenly losing its teasing edge.
He cocked his head slightly, his eyes searching your face. Something faltered in his gaze as you pulled his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. A small shudder ran through him, his breath hitching slightly.
His lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping him as you turned his hand over, brushing your lips against his palm. You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice lower now, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “What’s going on with you?”
Your response came in the form of a slow tug, guiding him closer as you sat up fully. His knees bumped against the bed as you leaned into him, your fingers trailing along his wrist. “Nothing’s going on,” you murmured, though the way your other hand found the hem of his shirt betrayed the truth. “I just… missed you.”
He blinked, his brow furrowing slightly, as though he wasn’t entirely sure where this sudden shift was coming from. But there was something in the softness of your tone and the heat in your gaze that made him pause. “Missed me?” he echoed, his lips quirking, though the teasing lilt was softer this time. “We’ve been in the same apartment all day.”
You hummed, your fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt, brushing over the firm planes of his abdomen. His breath hitched again, and this time, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a firm yet measured grip. “Alright, what’s this really about?” he asked, his tone sharper now but not unkind. “You’re acting different.”
“Am I?” you asked innocently, leaning in closer so your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity made his jaw clench, and you couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips.
“You are,” he replied, his grip tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. His dark eyes bore into yours, flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “What are you hiding?”
You tilted your head, your lips curving into a playful smirk as you leaned up, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “Maybe I just wanted you, Seungmin. Maybe I called you in here because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Something in his expression faltered, his gaze shifting slightly.
You took his hesitation as an opening, slipping your hand out of his grasp, moving it slowly to his thigh.
His breath caught, a soft noise escaping him as your fingertips brushed the inside of his leg. Your other hand snaked up his chest, finding his shoulder, pulling him closer. His hands twitched, as though he was resisting the urge to touch you. You were certain he was about to protest again, and that was when you decided to take things a step further.
In one fluid motion, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your arms snaking around his neck. His eyes were looking up at you as if he was anticipating your next move, his hands gripping your hips reflexively, his body tensing.
You leaned into him, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of his neck, the way you knew always made him melt.
The tension in his shoulders released, a low sigh escaping him. You smiled at his little reactions, brushing your lips along his collarbone. His breath hitched, a soft noise of contentment escaping him. You continued, dragging your teeth over his skin, biting gently, earning another low sound from him. You nipped harder, sucking on the sensitive flesh.
Seungmin shuddered beneath you, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing as a soft moan escaped his parted lips. You smiled, satisfied with his reactions as you rolled your hips into his, feeling his clothed length pressing into the thin fabric of your shorts, making the wetness already pooled in your pants grow.
Seungmin gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. Your heart raced, desire burning through you, making the space between your thighs ache. You rocked against him again, feeling his hardness throb. The heat building in his body was unmistakable, and it only spurred you on. You wanted to hear his sounds of pleasure, his breathless pleas, his sweet promises of love, and most importantly, the sound he'd make, spilling himself inside you.
The thought alone sent a shudder of pleasure through you, the ache between your thighs growing more insistent. Seungmin was always the type to plan ahead, the type who wouldn't dream of taking such a huge risk, and part of you felt guilty for longing for something like this on your own, but the way his cock twitched as you rocked against him made your worries dissipate.
Your lips met his, kissing him hard and needy. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, earning a low moan from him. One hand gripped your hip tighter, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer. He kissed back eagerly, his teeth grazing your lip, nipping, sucking. It was the type of kiss that made the room spin.
Seungmin pulled away, his chest heaving, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to yours. His hair somehow already looked disheveled, and his pupils were blown wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, reaching down and pressing your palm to his straining erection.
"Seungmin," you whispered, leaning forward, letting the words slip past your lips like honey. "I need it so bad. I can't stop thinking about how good it'd feel if you came inside me. Please, Minnie. Fuck a baby into me."
He blinked, his brows raising, his mouth dropping open slightly. It was as though his brain was buffering, unable to process the words coming out of your mouth. "Wait... wha— wait-"
You didn't let him finish, pulling the hem of his boxers down, revealing his throbbing, dripping length. He was rock hard, the tip leaking pre-cum, twitching under the heat of your gaze.
"C-Came inside..?" He said, still lost on the last thing you said, the words jumbling together, the meaning slipping away, "I- Inside? You want- what?"
The confused but aroused look on his face only made you burn hotter, a deep yearning spreading through your core. You wrapped a hand around his base, pumping him slowly, making him gasp. "Please," you said softly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his cock. "Fill me up, Seungmin. I've been thinking about it all week."
Seungmin made a strained sound, his brows pinching together, his hips bucking slightly. He was always super safe and responsible when it came to sex, never going a single step beyond what he knew you were comfortable with, but now you were asking for something he'd never expect. And a part of him really wanted to give it to you.
"Wait, wait, wait," he said, his tone a mixture of concern and disbelief. He pulled back slightly, his hands gripping your hips more tightly. "I can't just- I can't, we can't," he said quickly, the words spilling out as his brain struggled to catch up. "We can't just go raw. What if you get pregnant? I can't put you through that. We need to use a condom, or- or something. I don't know, a pill, or- or, I'll pull out."
His being worried for you was cute, a reaction you expected, but you never missed the way his cock twitched at the suggestion of him fucking a baby into you, his cock throbbing, making your heart race, wanting to see how far you could push him.
"Seungmin," you whined, leaning into him, nipping at his earlobe. "Please. You'd be such a great dad, hm? I promise we'll work it out, but for now, I need you inside me."
Seungmin gasped, his cock throbbing again, his cheeks burning a deep shade of crimson. "Y-you can't just- You can't just say things like that," he stuttered, his hands twitching.
You got up, removing your pants and underwear. "Tell me, do you want it?" Seungmin's eyes followed you as you stripped, his gaze drifting down, drinking in the sight of you. He bit his lip, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Do I want-? Of course, I want it," he blurted, his eyes flickering up to yours. "I mean, if it's something you're serious about, then-"
"That's all I needed to hear," you said, climbing back onto the bed and straddling him again, the warmth of your center pressing against his bare, slick length. His words alone had a flood of heat rushing through you, your walls aching with need.
Seungmin sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh god, y-you're so-"
You ground your hips into him, rubbing his shaft along your folds, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly, the slickness of your walls coating his cock, the tip brushing over your swollen bud, making you gasp. Seungmin's hips bucked, a low groan escaping him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs, holding you steady, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.
"You're sure about this, right?" he asked, his tone serious despite his flushed cheeks. "I mean, It's so sudden and... I'm not saying I'm against it but-"
You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss, silencing his rambling. You cupped his face, kissing him harder, deeper. He shuddered, his hips twitching.
When you pulled away, his eyes were wide, his lips parted.
"Are you going to keep talking or are you going to fuck a baby into me, Kim Seungmin?"
Seungmin inhaled sharply, his hands finding your hips. His gaze was piercing, burning into yours. For a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed him too far. But then his lips were crashing into yours, kissing you hungrily. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his teeth catching on your lower lip, biting hard enough to make your lip bleed. He trailed his lips down your jaw, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, stopping at the sensitive spot right beneath your ear.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, making him moan. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you. His fingertips left trails of fire along your skin, the sensation heightened by the knowledge that this was the most uncontrolled you'd ever seen him. He wasn't taking his time, or being gentle and careful like he always was. This was raw and desperate.
Seungmin's tongue traced a hot line down the hollow of your throat, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, his cock grinding against your folds, the slickness making the friction delicious.
You moaned, arching your back, pushing into his touch. You wanted more, needed him closer, needed his bare skin on yours. He seemed to read your mind, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. He paused, pulling back just enough to tug it off. The sight of his body made the heat in your stomach flare, and his skin was always so smooth and lean.
He tossed his shirt aside, his eyes meeting yours, his cheeks flushed. "This is- this is what you want, right?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "Me, like this. No condom, nothing?"
You nodded, biting your lip. Seungmin swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Alright," he breathed, his gaze flickering down, lingering on the way your hardened nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt. "Then get on your back."
You did as you were told, shifting off his lap to lie down, propping yourself up on your elbows. Seungmin moved closer, settling between your legs. You watched as he gripped the base of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. His other hand found yours, lacing your fingers together.
You could feel the heat of his body radiating through you, the anticipation making you shiver. This position was so foreign to you, the one where you could see his face, his eyes filled with so much tenderness, his hair hanging in his face. It was as if a different side of him was peeking through, a softer, more intimate side.
Seungmin's hips shifted, and then his length was sinking into you, inch by inch. He groaned, his head falling back. The feeling of him stretching your walls, filling you completely made your toes curl, a low moan escaping you.
Seungmin stilled, his hands gripping yours tightly. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breath ragged. Your eyes met his, and you watched as a flurry of emotions flashed across his features. It was as if he was struggling to process the moment.
"Seungmin," you whimpered, squeezing his hand.
His eyes snapped back to yours, his lips parting, the softest gasp escaping him. You watched as his brows pinched together, the muscles in his jaw flexing, his gaze flickering down to where your bodies connected.
"Shit," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're so- Fuck. I can feel everything."
You moaned softly, the sound turning into a whine as he slowly dragged his cock along your walls. Seungmin's head fell forward, his dark locks hanging in his face.
"You feel so good," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours. There was something different about the way he looked at you, his gaze burning into yours. You shuddered, a soft cry escaping you as his hips rolled, the sensation making you dizzy. His hands released yours, moving to grip your waist, his thumbs pressing into your skin, hard enough to bruise.
You whimpered, your hands tangling in the sheets. The sight of him losing control made your core throb. He was always so calm and collected, so careful and meticulous, but seeing him like this, so desperate and needy, was something you didn't even know you wanted until now.
Seungmin's lips pressed into a thin line, his hips snapping, his cock driving deeper, filling you completely. Your walls clenched around him, making him groan.
"Fuck," he cursed, his brows knitting together, his grip on your waist tightening.
You could feel the familiar knot building in your stomach, your legs trembling. You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His body covered yours, his lips finding your neck, kissing, biting, sucking. He marked every inch of you, his lips leaving trails of fire along your skin, his hips pounding into you, filling you to the hilt.
You could feel him throbbing, the tension in his body growing. You clung to him, the pressure in your core reaching its peak. Seungmin's breath was hot against your ear, his hands sliding down your sides, his fingertips digging into your hips.
You moaned, the sound coming out more like a whimper. "M-min," you stuttered, his name coming out as a broken plea. "I'm gonna- I'm- oh, god, Seungmin. Don't stop. I need-"
Seungmin's hand snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit. He circled the bundle of nerves with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing a sharp cry from you.
"Come for me," he breathed, his voice husky and strained.
The sound of his voice sent you over the edge, and a wave of white-hot pleasure crashed through you. Your walls clenched around him, your back arching. Your vision went white, stars dancing behind your eyelids. You cried out, the sound echoing through the room.
Seungmin swore under his breath, his hips slamming into yours. The force of his thrusts pushed you up the bed, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place.
You could feel his body tense, his muscles contracting, the heat of his skin searing into yours.
Your heart pounded, the world around you spinning, his name a mantra on your lips. He was still moving inside you, the sensation drawing out your orgasm, pushing you higher.
And then his hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering, his movements becoming erratic.
"F-fuck," he cursed, his voice a low growl, his body trembling. You could feel him twitch, his cock pulsing inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
His head dropped, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were screwed shut, his jaw clenched. His breath was hot on your face, his hair sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead.
"I- inside. Come inside me, Seungmin."
"Y/N," he choked out, his body shuddering.
Your walls clenched around him, drawing another low groan from him. He came hard, his cock throbbing, spilling himself deep inside you. The sensation made your vision blur, the heat spreading through your body, making the world go fuzzy.
You could feel him fill you up, completely, his seed spilling from you, the thick, sticky substance coating your thighs, mixing with the slickness of your arousal.
The sensation made your head spin, a fresh wave of pleasure washing over you. Your walls clenched around him, milking him, coaxing every last drop from him.
He gasped, his hips jerking, his cock twitching inside you. You felt his body tremble, his arms giving out. He collapsed onto you, his chest heaving, his head buried in the crook of your neck.
His body was warm and heavy, his breathing ragged, his pulse hammering in his throat. Your limbs were weak, the exhaustion settling into you.
You stayed like that for a while, his breath tickling your skin, the afterglow leaving you blissed out. When he finally pulled out, the sensation drew a soft whimper from you, his seed spilling out of you, pooling on the sheets.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips brushing your temple.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, tears prickling the sides of his eyes. "A lot"
The tenderness in his words made your heart swell, and you curled into his side, burying your face in his chest.
"Don't get all sappy on me now, Seungmin," you teased, though your voice was softer than usual. You knew if he cried you would cry harder.
Seungmin sighed, his fingers threading through your hair. "Who's getting sappy?" he mumbled, his words muffled.
Your hand slid up his back, tracing lazy patterns along his spine. "The one who's tearing up after he came inside of me."
"I'm not- I'm not tearing up," he insisted, though his voice wavered, betraying his emotions. "I'm just... it's just a lot. Like, a lot a lot."
You hummed, kissing the corner of his mouth, smiling gently. "I know, Min. I love you too."
Seungmin let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Hey, um..." he started, his brows furrowing, "about what you said before, about wanting a baby. Was that- were you serious?"
"Well, I wasn't trying to pressure you," you said, running your hand through his hair, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. "But... yeah, I've been thinking about it a lot lately. And I think it'd be nice, don't you?"
Seungmin hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to the side. "Yeah, I mean... I do, but I also don't want to put any pressure on you, either. If we're going to do this, I want it to be because you really want it."
You smiled, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "I really want it, Min. More than anything."
Seungmin nodded, his expression softening. "Okay. Then... okay. Let's do it."
Your heart swelled, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
"Thank you," you said, unable to hide the joy in your voice.
"I'll take care of everything, okay? I'll get us the best doctor, the best equipment, the best tests, the best vitamins, the best prenatal classes. We'll do it right. We'll be the best parents ever."
You suddenly felt laughter bubbling in your throat, and you had to bite your lip to keep it down.
"What?" Seungmin asked, scanning your face.
"Nothing," you said, shaking your head. "You're just cute, that's all."
Seungmin made a face and shook his head, and you could tell he was embarrassed.
"Come on, let's get in the shower," you said, getting off the bed.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
I.N :
You’re lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone with Jeongin lounging beside you. You’re trying to stay productive, but your attention keeps drifting. Your thumb swipes aimlessly, until you find yourself trapped in the vortex of cute baby pictures.
It starts with a baby panda video that you think is adorable, and before you know it, your Instagram feed is flooded with baby photos: panda babies, human babies, and then you find a whole thread of pictures of Jeongin as a little kid.
Your heart melts instantly. The sight of Jeongin, chubby-cheeked and smiling awkwardly at the camera, makes you feel an overwhelming urge to scoop up every baby in sight. It’s like an instinctual surge of affection, one that hits you straight in the ovaries.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, entranced by the photo of a younger Jeongin sitting on a swing, his eyes wide with excitement. He’s so adorable.
Jeongin glances over, leaning his head against your shoulder. “What’s going on?” he asks, noticing the soft sigh escaping your lips.
“These baby pictures of you… they’re just… too much,” you whisper, as if you’ve discovered a treasure trove. Your thumb scrolls past picture after picture.
Jeongin peeks at your phone, blinking rapidly when he sees what you're looking at. "Wait, that’s me..." he says, his voice a little flustered.
"Yeah," you say, your voice soft but teasing, "You were such a little cutie. I can just imagine you as a dad- gonna be the most adorable dad ever."
Jeongin chuckles nervously. “I-I’m sure I was cute, but, uh, I’m still getting the hang of being an adult.”
You glance down at him, smiling mischievously. Your fingers hover over the screen. "Yeah, well, you know… I kind of want a baby. Like… now."
Jeongin freezes, his wide eyes blinking a few times as he processes your words. “A… baby?” he asks slowly, the confusion clear on his face. He’s not sure whether you’re joking or if you’ve truly caught baby fever.
You nod, your expression sweet but undeniably serious. “Yeah. I mean, just imagine it- us, with a little baby. We’d be such great parents, don’t you think?” You look down at him, noticing the way his face goes from confused to completely overwhelmed.
Jeongin starts laughing nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I… wow, uh, okay. This is a lot to take in right now.”
You giggle softly at his reaction, feeling a little bolder now that you've gotten under his skin. “Maybe we should practice,” you say, your voice dropping into a teasing whisper.
Jeongin’s eyes go wide, his entire face lighting up as his brain tries to process what you just said. “P-practice?” he stammers, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "Oh... OH."
His eyes widen even more as the realization finally hits him. He glances at you for confirmation, but you’re already leaning in, a playful smile curling at the edges of your lips. He lets out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to laugh or blush harder.
"Uh, I-I mean, if we’re practicing... do we need a lesson or something?" he stumbles over his words, his hand sliding up to scratch his head in confusion. "Wait, what kind of practice are we talking about? I- oh my god, what am I saying?”
You start giggling uncontrollably at his adorable reaction, trying to hold back the fit of laughter that’s bubbling inside you. “I was talking about practice in, you know, the practice... for the baby," you say, your hand trailing on the side of his face.
Jeongin, now completely flustered, stumbles backwards, almost falling off the couch. “Oh my god,” he mutters under his breath. “I did not expect that.”
You snuggle up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest, your giggles subsiding into soft laughs. Jeongin shifts nervously, still trying to figure out how to respond.
“Alright, alright,” he says after a few moments of silence, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “We can practice. But I’m not promising anything.” He pauses, giving you a playful side-eye. “But, um, I think I’m gonna need a lot of practice…”
“Oh, you definitely will,” you tease, feeling giddy from his adorably shy reaction. You glance at him and grin. “Good thing I’m such a good teacher.”
Jeongin blushes even more, his face a deep shade of red now, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Well, I guess if we're practicing…” he starts, trailing off as he leans in for a kiss.
The kiss is slow and tender at first, but as the heat between you builds, you find yourself leaning closer, pressing your body against his. His hands slip under your shirt, sliding up your sides and sending shivers down your spine. Your lips part slightly, and the kiss deepens, the heat intensifying.
He breaks the kiss, looking down at you with a dazed smile. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed. He reaches down and tugs on the hem of your shirt, and you lift it over your head, letting it fall to the floor.
Jeongin stares down at you, his gaze roaming over every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers graze across your stomach, making goosebumps appear along your skin. He pulls you closer, pressing his lips against your neck. You moan softly, arching your back.
You reach down and slide his shirt over his head, your hands moving over his chest and stomach. He moans as you run your nails lightly over his skin, his breathing becoming heavier.
You look up at him, meeting his gaze, and the fire in his eyes burns bright. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his collarbone. Jeongin groans and pulls you close, his hands sliding up your back and cupping your breasts. You gasp and lean into his touch, arching your back as his lips find yours once more.
The kiss is filled with passion and heat, the two of you becoming lost in the moment. You run your hands down his sides, letting your fingers graze over his abs. He groans into the kiss and you press yourself against him, grinding your hips against his. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
He pulls away slightly, and you can see the hunger in his eyes, the desire written all over his face. His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of bare skin. He trails his fingers along your stomach, teasing your navel before sliding lower.
You suck in a breath as he brushes his fingers over the edge of your pants, and his lips curl into a smirk. He leans in, kissing the spot right below your ear. You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound, but his touch makes it impossible. He presses his lips to your neck, and you tilt your head, giving him better access.
He trails kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You're amazed at his ability to multitask, your pants somehow already lost on the floor somewhere, as he works his magic with his hands and mouth.
His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing the soft, sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You let out a gasp as his finger grazes against your clit, and he chuckles softly, his breath hot against your ear.
"You like that?" he whispers, his voice low and husky.
"Yes," you breathe, your eyes half-closed. "So much..."
He slides a finger inside you, his thumb brushing over your clit. You moan, your hips bucking involuntarily, and he adds another finger. He pumps his fingers slowly, teasingly, his thumb circling your clit.
Your breaths come faster and harder as he picks up the pace, his fingers curling inside you. You whimper and squirm, and he pulls back, grinning cutely, a complete contrast to his actions.
"Not yet," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours.
"Jeongin, please," you beg, your voice strained.
"Would you rather take my fingers, or me?" he asks, his breath tickling your ear.
You shiver and press your body closer, his skin hot against yours. "You," you whisper, your voice barely audible.
He grins and removes his hand from your underwear, tugging them off. He unbuckles his belt, and you help him, both of you working frantically to get him out of his jeans. Once they're gone, he pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. He leans in, capturing your lips with his, and you kiss him hungrily, desperate for him.
You reach down, grasping his length and guiding him towards your entrance. You sink down onto him, a sigh escaping your lips. He fills you completely, stretching you just the right amount, and you rock your hips slowly, adjusting to his size.
Jeongin groans and grips your hips, guiding you as you move against him. You move faster, rolling your hips, and he thrusts upwards, his fingers digging into your skin.
You moan and arch your back, leaning into his touch. He leans forward, capturing a nipple between his lips. He swirls his tongue around it, and you whimper, throwing your head back.
Jeongin continues to thrust up into you, and you ride him, taking him deeper and deeper. He releases your nipple and leans forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
You grab his hand, leading it to lay lightly around your neck as it it's an accessory, a necklace. "Please," you whisper.
He smiles against your lips, tightening his grip ever so slightly. "So, you want this?"
"Mmm hmmm," you murmur, biting your bottom lip. "Use me like you always do."
He smiles, leaning in and nipping your earlobe. "Such a slut," he purrs, his breath hot on your skin.
He flips you to lay on the couch, so he can push you into the couch with his hand wrapped around your neck, making sure you're comfortable.
You nod eagerly, and he tightens his grip, thrusting deep inside you. You cry out, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pounds into you, his eyes never leaving yours, and the pressure around your neck builds.
Your body is on fire, every nerve ending exploding with pleasure, and you know you won't last long. He feels so good, his thick cock hitting all the right spots, and his hand on your neck is driving you crazy.
You moan loudly, and he smirks, quickening his pace. You feel the familiar pressure building inside you, and you cry out, begging him to fuck you harder.
"Yes," he groans, his eyes darkening with lust. "You like that, don't you?"
"Yes, please," you gasp, arching your back. He grunts and pounds into you, his fingers tightening around your neck.
The pressure is almost too much to bear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the sensation. Your orgasm crashes through you, and you cry out, shuddering underneath him.
He groans, his thrusts growing more erratic, and he releases inside you, burying himself to the hilt. You're panting and gasping, your body limp.
Jeongin releases his grip on your neck, and you take a deep breath, a soft smile playing on your lips. He smiles back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
"I love you," he murmurs.
"I love you too," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.
Jeongin lays next to you, and the two of you snuggle up close together. You can't keep the smile off your face, and he chuckles, nuzzling your neck.
"When are we getting married?" he asks, his face still buried in your neck.
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Both," he laughs, lifting his head and gazing into your eyes.
"You have to propose," you giggle.
"What if I said, 'I'm asking you?'"
"Well, in that case, I'd say yes."
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taglist for my babies : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @honeyybbuubblleess
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