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#but oh boy have the last few days been intense
babygirlwolverine · 1 year
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me agreeing to go into work on my day off to assist with a spay: what a great learning experience and an opportunity to show my boss im willing to put in the extra effort because I love surgery
me right now at midnight knowing I have to get up in 6 hours on my day off: why did I sign myself up for this when I could’ve been sleeping in and enjoying my day off after an intense week so far????
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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months
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They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.
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ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!
While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)
John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.
He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.
He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.
You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.
He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.
“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.
“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.
At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.
“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”
You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.
“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.
“What?” you exclaim.
“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”
“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”
When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”
“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.
“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.
His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.
Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.
John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”
“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.
When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.
“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.
Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”
“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.
“Aye.”
“And what did I say?”
“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”
You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.
“I want you,” you whisper.
John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”
John Price (wc: 420)
Price reclines in his office chair.
His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.
Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.
And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.
But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.
Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.
I’d have his babies.
Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.
Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.
He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."
When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."
You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.
"Heard what you said this morning."
"You did?"
"I did."
You take a shaky breath. "And?"
"Did you mean it?"
'Every word," you say automatically.
Fuck. He's done for.
Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.
Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.
"Show me."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)
Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.
The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.
I want to have his babies.
He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.
“It’s not funny,” you snap.
“Oh, aye. But it is.”
“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”
You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”
“You just did.”
“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.
Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.
He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.
But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.
And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.
His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.
“Sergeant.”
Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.
“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.
Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.
Privacy. Privacy with you.
That’s what Kyle needs.
Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)
Ghost is a patient man.
But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.
It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.
This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.
I’d have his babies.
Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.
Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.
So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.
"Stop moving."
"Simon."
His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.
"What are you doing?" you ask softly.
"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."
"Did you?"
"Is it true?"
Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."
"Mean it?"
"Yes."
Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.
"Willing to show me?" he asks.
Your lips part, and then you're touching him.
The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.
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sukunasbow · 5 months
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college art and patrick giving you oral at the same time ; mdni
when you first suggested the idea after a night out at a pub, art and patrick thought you were insane. there’s always been tension looming between the three of you, although the idea of acting on it never seemed like a possibility.
the next day, however, when the two boys were sitting on the bleachers and watching you stretch before your tennis match, they turned to face each other with knowing looks on their faces.
now, you’re sitting on the edge of your small dorm bed, your legs spread as far as possible.
“are you sure this is okay?” you breathe out, asking the two boys as they kneel between your legs, their shoulders pressed together.
“yes.” they reply in unison, their eyes lighting up with a sense of eagerness.
you place your right hand in art’s hair and your left hand in patrick’s hair, wordlessly signalling for them to continue.
art makes the first move, gently kissing up your thigh before sticking out his tongue and flattening it, licking a stripe along the folds of your wet cunt.
“fuck.” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as art moves his tongue to your clit, tracing circles on the sensitive bud.
“art, move over a little.” patrick interrupts your moans with his sharp tone. “play nice, share with me.”
art keeps his tongue on your clit but moves over slightly, following patrick’s demands. unlike the blonde boy, patrick doesn’t bother slowly making his way towards your cunt. instead, he immediately darts his tongue out, flicking it along your clit, making contact with art’s tongue.
it takes the two boys a moment to work out a rhythm and get used to their tongues so close together, but once they do, it feels like paradise for you.
your back arches and you can’t hold back your desperate moans. “oh my, fuck! yes.” you swear you sound like a porn star, but the pleasure takes over any common sense you have about being too vocal.
art opens his eyes and shifts his gaze to sneak a look at patrick, who’s flicking his tongue on your clit even faster. the blonde was already hard as he licked your pussy, but now he feels like a teenager again, as if he could cum just from the sight of patrick devouring you like it’s his last meal on death row.
as if patrick could feel the blonde eye fucking him, he glances at art, still working on getting you to climax.
you look down at them, curiosity taking over your facial expression as art stops his movements on your cunt, simply panting while staring at patrick, his shallow breaths hitting your cunt and sending shivers down your spine. “what’s wrong?” you breathe out, your eyes glazing over as a knot tightens in your stomach.
just as you’re about to cum, patrick and art lock their mouths together, their tongues clashing on your clit as they start making out, eliciting even more pleasure from your body.
“patrick, art…fuck, i’m so close.” your words seem to only motivate the two of them as they pick up the pace of their tongues in desperation. “you’re both so fucking hot.” you moan.
the knot in your stomach gets even tighter and after a few seconds, your thighs shake and your mouth parts as the knot releases and you cum on their tongues.
patrick and art pull away from in between your thighs, still kneeling beside each other, a mixture of their spit and your cum left over on their lips and chins.
“i think we should do this again, hm?” you give them a small smirk.
they look up at you intensely, then they turn their heads to look at each other, “yeah.”
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hoshigray · 5 months
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Are you able to right a gojo fic? He pulls you aside after a meeting to a spicy makeout with you that leads to more than just a make out:,)
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: "more than a make out" indeed, lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit reader; minors DNI - canon divergence; you're gojo's partner who works in Tokyo jujutsu tech with him - kissing; making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - breast sucking - deep impact position - praising - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Ijichi and Yaga - Gojo is a touch-starved fool, bless him lol.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k
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“Y/n~~!”
“…! Oh, Gojo!”
“Ahh, it’s Gojo-sensei!”
Being the strongest sorcerer in the modern world is a hassle, no matter how much Gojo loves to shake it off as if it’s not. Not that he doesn’t mind it — no, no. If anything, he prides himself in it. It fills his ego, knowing that a scarce few could be compatible with his power. He’s a dependable light for the jujutsu world, sorcerers of the nation thankful that he's not on the wrong side. 
But alas, being the best has its taxing side, especially taking in tedious missions across the land and attending mandatory meetings with the entire jujutsu faculty body — not to mention being a teacher. The white-haired sorcerer was a busy man — no other way to explain it. However, the worst thing about it all was that there would be times when he’d have less time to spend with a certain someone who had him in the palm of their hands. And if he keeps being away from them, he might – no, will – malfunction. 
You were Gojo’s partner, his sweet baby that he cherished more than anything. You were a faculty member of Tokyo Jujutsu High, making things a little easier for the two of you to meet and elope (professionally). Nevertheless, those moments seem to frequent less and less with how many meetings have Gojo backed up this past week. The poor guy can’t even remember the last time he heard your sweet voice (which is a lie since you call every morning and night; he makes sure you do). 
Although, today would be different. Once this meeting with the Kyoto officials ended, he made a straight beeline out of the room to find you. And to his cheerful chuckle, he skips in your direction when he sees you conversing with Yuuji in the hallway. The salmon-haired teen greets his teacher with a high-five and a bow from you. 
Yuuji hears Megumi call for him from outside, so the boy dismisses himself with a goodbye and wanders off, leaving you and Gojo to yourselves. 
“Hello, Y/n~,” the man says your name with a happy tune, his lanky figure swaying to be close to you.
“Good noon, Gojo,” you greet him again with a modest smile as the tall man walks to you. “How was your meeting? Did the officials give you a tough ti—Mmmph!?”Your boyfriend surprises you with a kiss, taking in your perplexed moan with his pillowy lips. One peck comes after another while Gojo’s hands sneak to your waist. You quickly push him away, but his hold keeps you close to his figure. “G–Gojo, what are you doing!?” You express your concern in confusion, covering your lips with a hand. 
“Mmm? What do you mean? I’m greeting my princess with a kiss,” the blindfolded man says so matter-of-factly, beaming his delighted demeanor that nearly blinds you. “I miss you!”
“I miss you, too, but you can’t just—“ He tilts his head as you try to explain. You chew your lip with cheeks boosting in warmth, averting your glance away from his charming face that’s inching closer and closer to yours. His eyes are masked by the black cloth around his face; however, you can still sense the intensity of his gaze. “N-Not in public, Gojo...”
He plays the whining card, bringing you in for a tight hug that could restrain your breathing. “Ehhh, but I haven’t seen or touched you in days! See, we’ve been apart for so long that you’re going back to referring to me by my last name!”
“I always call you by your family name when in the school, no??”
“Yeah, but that’s only for when people are around, not just the two of us!” His complaints are genuine, swaying around with you in his arms. You roll your eyes, listening to him yap more. “Come on, Y/n; it’s been such a hectic week for me, missions after missions, meetings after meetings. Any more than this, and I just might combust — especially when I don’t have time to see my angel.”
You hear him make fake crying noises to your shoulder, reminding yourself how much your tall, strong boyfriend can be such a whiny puppy if he’s away from you for too long. But you can’t kid yourself; you missed spending time with him just as much as he did. “I know; I wanna see you more often, too. Don’t you worry, okay? This week is almost over, so keep pushing through like the tough man you are…Hehe, my strong Satoru.”
The snow-haired sorcerer springs up with a childish smile at the use of his name, his dimples present with the shine of his teeth. “If that’s what must happen, can your strong Satoru ask for another kiss to make his hell a little bearable?”
You give him a look at his request, but his anticipation doesn’t falter. With a sigh, you smile and whisper, “Just a kiss, Satoru?”
He chuckles lightly, drawing his mouth close to yours. “Yes, princess.”
His soft lips land on yours. There’s no restraint as you welcome him, your hands coming around to cup his cheeks before breaking the kiss. “One more,” he says before your nose is brushed away from his. You comply and place another gentler peck, and the man sneaks a hand from your waist to the back of your head. You withdraw your lips again, but Gojo utters another “One more…” Your stomach does flips knowing what game he’s trying to play. Another kiss is received, and his leg sneaks in between yours.
You mewl, finding yourself stuck in this predicament. He’s now in control, using this opportunity to deepen the kiss and make it more passionate, sucking your bottom lip and running his tongue for more access. You have no choice but to accept him, whimpering at the tongue intruding into your oral cavity while his leg moves further and further. 
Your hands come to his shoulders, gripping his jacket as the Gojo furthers himself into the kiss. The hand behind your head keeps you steady, keeping him focused on your mouth, where he sucks on your tongue in a way that leaves you breathless — like, actually. After he quits the kiss, you two are gasping for air so hard, and your lips are wet because of him. 
“Hahhh, ’Toru, stop,” you wipe spit from your mouth. “We can’t be doing this here…”
Your complaint falls on deaf ears, the sorcerer placing chaste kisses on your cheek. “Hmmm, why not?”
“Mmm..Someone, your students, we’d be caught here…”
Gojo smirks; it’ll never stop being adorable how bashful you are around him, particularly when he expresses his undying affection for you in public. But he will respect your wishes, and the idea that pops into his head makes him giggle.
Before you can process anything, Gojo picks you up with your legs held up and a hand on your back. You squeak at the unexpected action, grabbing a hold of his neck to balance yourself. Your mouth opens to express your bewilderment. Yet one moment, you two are in a hallway of the school; then you’re transported to a familiar room with a bed the next — your bedroom.
You blink in perplexity as Gojo throws you on top of your bed, stammering to find the right words. “Satoru, I wish you’d stop teleporting without letting me know! And don’t you have another meeting to get to!? Why are we in my apart—“ You don’t finish that sentence; you stop yourself once Gojo crawled up on the bed to you. Suddenly, you feel too small to utter a word.
“Sorry, baby,” No, he wasn’t. Not with that childish grin posted on his face. He brings his face to yours, placing more smacks on your lips. “But you’re the one who said we shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds. Heh, you act so cute when you’re shy…”
“No, Satoru, we can’t—Mmmm,” silencing you with kisses was such a vile card, knowing you’d be whimpering under him just from him twirling his tongue with yours. “Mmph..Mmah…! You’re scheduled for…another meet—“
“Shhh, don’t worry; I can be late for a few minutes,” another lie. If Gojo’s late to another meeting, Principal Yaga will put the younger man in a chokehold again. “I’ll make this quick, I promise. So, just let me enjoy you…”
Sucking your tongue is all it takes for you to give up on trying to persuade him out of what he’s doing. Gojo takes off and throws his jacket to the bedroom floor to let his black fitted tee breathe, and his hands initiate unbuttoning your blouse. He then slithers it down to the bottom of your long pencil skirt to pull up, greeting your undergarments with his digits. You jerk at the contact of his middle finger that presses on the damp spot of your panties, earning a faint, salacious laugh from Gojo. 
“Awww, did my baby get wet just from kissing earlier?” He rubs the underwear further, soaking the spot more with your fluids. Your thighs tremble, “Did you miss me that much?”
“Sato—Oooh!” He sinks his finger deeper into your entrance; the material barrier is so wet from your essence seeping through. “Your finger...Mmm.”
“What is it, cutie?” He whispers to your ear, and you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a moan. “You want my fingers?” You nod sheepishly, amusing the snow-haired man. “Now, Y/n, you know I want to hear you tell me what you want. Use your words, princess.”
You gulp to satiate your dry throat. “Yess, Satoruu, I want your fingers. Please, let me cum on your fingers…”
“That’s my angel,” he praises before straightening himself between your sheer pantyhose-covered legs. After sliding your damp panties off, he brings a leg to his shoulder and finally slides his blindfold off his face, his hair losing its spiky position and falling with gravity. Cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your wet cunt in his sights, biting his lip. “Made such a pretty mess all for me, huh.”
His hand returns to your now bare chasm, sliding his ring and middle finger between your soaking folds. You hum to the touch, gripping on your blouse to use as reins. After a few seconds, he inserts the middle digit inside, immediately going to work after he pulls a gasp from your surprised body.
Slow motions sneak up on you, scraping your velvet texture with the blunt fingertip. His slender digit pushed and pulled from inside you, making sure you took him to the knuckle. He swirls it around, evoking shaky screams from him, scratching your inner walls so diligently. And your eyebrows furrow once the movement quickens.
“Hooohh, ohhh!” You threw your head back to the pillows. “Ahhnn, faster, go faster…”
“Hmm? You want me to go faster?” He teases with a perched brow. He does as asked, but with a catch; he sneaks his ring finger inside with your slick as lube. You shriek, two fingers now ravaging your insides and pleasing you with faster shifts. “Like this?” Did you even have to answer that; were you gripping the sheets and hips moving on their own not enough?
“Oooo, fuahhh, fuuckk, ‘Toru, nooo, y’re making me…Hoohh!”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he kisses your calf before placing his lips on your ankle to lick playfully. “Just let me make you feel all good.”
Fuck did Gojo miss this; it’s been more than a week since he’s had his hands on your body like this. The constant meetings have almost made him forget the warmth and plush of your frame. He needed this, like, BAD. He’s barely containing himself now; the image of your slit taking his fingers so well is bubbling his excitement, and the tent of his pants that shields a boner grows painfully hornier.
You were bound to cum on his fingers in no time, howling with an arched back when he does the ‘come hither’ motion and scrapes your inner walls. They contract around his digits as your legs tremble with the surge of your orgasm. Gojo loves the sight and stirs the fingers to tease your keen nerves more. “Good job, sweetie,” he kisses your ankle again while slowly removing his fingers from you, inserting them inside his mouth to lather his tongue with your juices. He almost caves in just from the taste.
But a sudden buzz in the pocket of his pants alerts him. He brings out his phone ringing with a call and presses the green button before pressing the device to his ear. “Yo, Ijichi.”
“Ah, thank goodness you picked up. Where are you; the meeting starts in a few minutes.”
“Mmm, I’m at Y/n’s,” even if you’re in a tiny daze, your face morphed into an expression of shock at his nonchalant honesty. “I’m only here to grab something real quick, and then I’ll head back to the school.”
“Are you sure…?”
He laughs, “Now, Ijichi, are you calling me a liar?”
That was precisely what he was — a whole liar.
“—Taahh, ahhhn, Sa’oruuuuu! Yer hitting shoo deep in—Saaahh!!”
It’s been a solid fifteen minutes after that call with Ijichi, and Gojo is still in the confines of your bedroom. He was very much late; of course, he was. Why would he not be? He finally has this chance to have you to himself, so he’s indulging it however long he wishes.
Gojo ripped you out of your clothes to meet with his clothing on the floor, leaving you bare and nude for him aside from your pantyhose. You’re lying on your side with one leg up on Gojo’s shoulder while the other is between his, and his cock now pushing to and fro inside your chasm that was filled with his come. 
His thrusts were sharp and rough, the curve of his dick jabbing areas in your vagina you never thought would be stimulated. Jesus, his length was dangerous, having you babbling incoherent words to the air and reaching so deep inside that you quaked under him. Your brain is stuck in a haze, especially since this is the second time he’s fucking inside you and made you cum a total of three times!
“Ohhmy, Gohhhd! Sato—Ohhhh…!!” He grasps around your leg to plunge himself further and faster, the work of his pelvis having you see stars.
“Hsshhh, God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” he coos sweetly, juxtaposing with the erratic pace of his hips that move your figure with every rut. Azure orbs take in the display before him; your naked body submitted to him to alleviate his week-long stress and please the both of you. Strands of his silverfish-white hair are drenched from the sweat built on his forehead. “—Hmmgh! Shit…keep clamping onto me like that.”
You chew on your lip, sneaking a hand down on your clitoris to whisk your fingers around it. Oh, it feels so good, playing with yourself as your boyfriend massages your insides. “Mmaaah, s’ good...”
“Hmm, what’s that?” His hips now go slow; the stretch his curve causes when entering inside has your toes curl. “What feels good?” He then snaps his pelvis to startle you.
“—Mmmph!! You! Y’u feel so good, ‘Toruuu..!”
“Heh, you feel amazing yourself, Y/n,” returning to an erratic rhythm, Gojo pumps his cock til the base kisses your squelching folds. His balls smack onto you after every push. He then curves downward for his face to be closer for you to hear him, “Hmmnn, you gonna be good and come again, right?”
You nod cursorily, your eyes shut to enhance the feeling of you rubbing on your bud. “Yesshh, I’m so close, I wanna cum…Want you to fill me u—Uuuhhn!!”
“Jesus, you look so fucking hot,” he grins before bringing his mouth to your nipple, his tongue dancing around the tip to harden. “Let’s cum together, okay, cutie?”
He sucks in your nipple as his thrusts go grim, and severe hits to your cunt result in you wailing far from your control. The tip of his cock picks at your silky walls so euphorically that you hum his name. A hand comes to your chest to keep you steady and synced with him, and he keeps rutting into you even when his body shudders as his load is exerted inside your tight slit. And you’re not far from him either; your orgasm seconds away from his hits you hard, and you quiver in the shocks coursing through your body.
As you two rock slowly through your crescendos, your essence mixes with his seed, and your sweaty bodies heave and pant for the third time this session. Gojo releases your nipple from his mouth after withdrawing his dick from inside, and his jizz seeps out of your frame. “Phew, man, how I needed that.”
You respond despite your brain feeling a bit all over the place. “Are you happy now?”
He laughs while kissing your cheek. “Thank you, princess!”
“You’re welcome, Toru,” you shook your head with a meek smile. “But you really should get going; I don’t want you getting in trouble with—“
KNOCK!! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
An abrupt sound comes from the front door, confusing the both of you as the knock comes from out of nowhere. Nonetheless, you get up and wipe yourself quickly before putting your clothes back on. Gojo does the same as you walk out of the bedroom to see who’s at your door. And once you open the door, your heart meets your stomach.
“Y/n,” it was Yaga, the principal adorning his usual attire and sunglasses.
“Principal Yaga,” you greeted the older man with a hurried bow. “Wh–What can I do for you—“
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
Your lips flatten at the question, using the silence to speak for itself as you move out of the way for the principal to enter. Yaga apologizes for the intrusion before marching into your apartment and presumably going after the person still in your bedroom, who lets out an exclaimed shout of pain from what you can assume was from a punch to the head from his old teacher. 
The former instructor strolls back to the front door where you remained; Gojo is dragged on the floor behind him. “Sorry again for the inconvenience,” Yaga puts his shoes back on before exiting your home. You observe the men leave with a heavy sigh, waving goodbye to your snow-haired sorcerer as he’s pulled across the hall like a toddler.
“See ya, sweetie,” he cries out to you without regard to the neighbors hearing him, putting his blindfold back on. “I miss you already!”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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pucksandpower · 7 months
Text
To the Moon and Back
Lando Norris x astronaut!Reader
Summary: not many people can say “I love you to the moon and back” literally … but you’re the exception
Based on this request
Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves 🫶
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The roar of the engine echoes through the car as Lando revs the McLaren 720S Spider. You glance over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile. His eyes are bright with excitement beneath his helmet.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, giving your hand a quick squeeze.
You nod, adrenaline already pumping through your veins. “Let’s do it.”
As an astronaut, you’re no stranger to G-force. But taking a hot lap around the race track with Lando is a different kind of thrill. The track marshall gives a thumbs up and Lando eases the car out of the pit lane. He takes it easy for the first few turns, warming up the tires.
“How’s it feel?” He asks.
“Smooth,” you reply. “Can’t even tell we’re going 200.”
Lando grins. “Oh just wait.”
He floors it down the back straight, pinning you back against the seat as the speedometer climbs towards 320 kilometers per hour. The G-force builds as he brakes hard into the next corner, expertly controlling the slide.
You let out an exhilarated whoop. “Now that’s more like it!”
Lando chuckles. “Barely getting started, babe.”
The next few laps are a blur of adrenaline and speed. Lando dances the McLaren through the corners, braking impossibly late before powering out in a controlled slide. You relish the forces pressing you back into your seat, so similar yet so different from a rocket launch.
As you pull back into the pits, crowds of fans erupt into cheers. Lando parks the car and hops out, pausing to take off his helmet and run a hand through his curly hair before coming over to help you out.
“So, what did the astronaut think?” He asks with a playful grin.
You’re still catching your breath, heart pounding. "That was insane! What a rush."
Lando looks pleased, keeping an arm wrapped around you as you’re swarmed by fans seeking autographs and photos. Most want a moment with their favorite driver, but a few recognize you as well.
“She’s the astronaut girlfriend, right?” Someone asks.
You nod, giving a little wave. “Yep, that’s me!”
The fans seem impressed that you were able to handle Lando’s hot lap so easily.
“Wow, you took those Gs no problem!” A teenage girl remarks.
You laugh. “Well, I have some practice from launch and re-entry.”
“You must be fearless to be an astronaut,” adds an awe-struck boy.
“It’s intense for sure,” you agree. “But so rewarding.”
Lando smiles proudly, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “My girl’s a badass. Takes a lot more than some high-G corners to phase her!”
You laugh and pose for a few more photos before Lando regrettably has to head in to prep for free practice. After a quick kiss goodbye, you wander through the bustling paddock, enjoying the infectious excitement in the air on race day.
You’ve just grabbed a water bottle when you hear rapid footsteps behind you.
“Y/N, wait up!”
Turning, you see Lando’s performance coach approaching. He gives you a polite smile. “Got a minute?”
You nod. “For you, always. What’s up?”
He falls into step beside you. “I wanted to run something by you. Lando seems distracted lately during training and physio. Have you noticed anything off with him?”
You frown, thinking back over the last few weeks. Now that he mentions it, Lando has seemed a little distant at times.
“I have noticed he’s been quieter than usual,” you admit. “But I figured it was just nerves or fatigue going into the season.”
Jon nods thoughtfully. “Could be. I know he really wants to impress this year. But as his girlfriend, I thought maybe you’d have a better sense of if anything else is on his mind.”
“I’ll try to talk to him,” you promise.
“Appreciate it,” Jon says. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
You part ways and head out to the pit wall to watch the start of the race. But your mind is only partially on the action, thoughts preoccupied with concern for Lando. He’s normally so upbeat and energetic, but thinking back, you realize there has been a muted quality to him lately that is unusual. You wrack your brain trying to pinpoint if there was a specific incident that triggered this change, but come up empty.
After the podium, you pull Lando. “P3! What a freaking drive," you give him a quick kiss.
His eyes brighten momentarily. “Thanks, love. Feels good to start the season off strong.”
You study his face, wishing you could read his thoughts. “So … can we talk later? Maybe grab dinner in the city before heading back to the hotel?”
Lando shrugs. "Sure, I guess so."
You frown slightly. His response is lacking his normal enthusiasm. But the paddock is too crowded to dive deeper now. “Great, it’s a date!” You say brightly, taking his hand as you both head out to spray champagne. You’ll get to the bottom of this tonight.
After a flurry of post-race obligations, the two of you finally slip away to a quiet restaurant downtown. When the waiter steps away with your orders, you reach across the table to take Lando’s hand.
“So, what’s really going on?” You ask gently. “And don’t say nothing. Everyone can tell something’s been off lately.”
Lando sighs, avoiding your eyes. He runs his free hand through his curls. “It’s stupid, really …”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “If it’s bothering you this much, it’s not stupid. Talk to me, babe.”
He’s quiet for a long moment before responding softly. “I’m worried I don’t deserve you.”
You rock back slightly, caught off guard. “What? Where is this coming from?”
Lando keeps his gaze down. “It’s just … you’re this badass astronaut. You literally go to space! And I’m just a guy who drives cars in circles.”
Your heart aches for the vulnerability in his voice. You give his hand another supportive squeeze. “Lando, you’re so much more than that. Yes, I love space. But racing is your passion and you’re incredible at it. You bring joy to so many people. That matters.”
‘I know, but …” Lando trails off uncertainly.
You lean forward, gently tipping his chin up. “No buts. You deserve the world. I’m the lucky one here.”
He finally meets your eyes. “Really?” The doubt is clear on his face.
“Really,” you confirm. “I fell for you, Lando. Not your job or your fame. Your kindness, your humor, your giant heart … that’s what I love.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “When you put it like that …”
“It’s the truth,” you say firmly.
Lando lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as the tension eases. “I’ve been in my own head about this for weeks. Should have just talked to you sooner.”
“Well, you have me now,” you remind him. “No more keeping worries bottled up, deal?”
“Deal,” he agrees, lifting your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
You laugh. “It’s always nice to hear.” Your heart swells with happiness to see the sparkle back in his eyes.
Just then your food arrives, and Lando insists you try a bite of his pasta. The conversation flows easily again as you trade stories and banter. With the worry lifted from his shoulders, Lando’s charm and humor are on full display. By the time you meander hand in hand back to the hotel, the moon is high in the sky.
Lando pauses outside your door. “Thank you for tonight. And just … for everything. You’re my whole world.”
“I love you to the moon and back.” You gaze at him adoringly for a moment before adding, “Now, I believe a celebration is in order for that podium today …”
You open the door and pull him inside by his collar as he laughs. As you kiss him deeply, you make a silent promise to always be the safe space he can turn to when doubts creep in.
You’re the luckiest girl in the world to be loved by this incredible man. And you plan to spend every day proving he’s worthy of the same boundless love … to the moon and back.
***
You take a deep breath as you stare out the small window of the shuttle, watching the Earth get smaller and smaller as you ascend into the sky.
This is it. Your first mission to the moon.
You’ve dreamed of this moment since you were a little girl, gazing up at the glowing orb in the night sky and imagining yourself walking across its cratered surface.
As an astronaut with NASA, you’ve completed years of intense training to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the rigors of space travel. But nothing can fully ready you for the surge of emotions that hits you now as your childhood fantasy becomes reality.
Excitement.
Awe.
A twinge of nervousness.
And above all, gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to push the boundaries of human exploration. To boldly go where only a handful of people have gone before.
You think of Lando. How his eyes lit up when you got the call informing you that you had been selected for this mission. How he immediately started planning a big celebratory dinner, inviting all your friends and family. How he held you tight before you left for quarantine and launch preparations, whispering “I’m so proud of you” and “I love you to the moon and back.”
Your relationship with Lando has always been anchored in mutual love, trust and encouragement. As a Formula 1 driver, he understands the demands and dangers of your job, the laser focus it requires. When he races, you’re trackside or glued to the TV, cheering him on. When it’s your turn to take the spotlight, he’s equally in your corner, hyping you up and telling anyone who’ll listen that his girl is an astronaut headed to space.
You chuckle thinking back to when you first met Lando at an Engineering for the Next Generation event. Him in his McLaren gear, standing out like a beacon in bright papaya. You in your crisp blue flight suit, NASA insignia shining. Sparks didn’t just fly, they erupted into fireworks.
Fast forward five years and here you both are, thriving in your dream careers, happily together and each other’s biggest fans.
Your daydreaming is interrupted by the voice of the commander crackling over your headset. “Prepare for trans-lunar injection burn.”
It’s time.
You watch attentively as the burn commences, adjusting the shuttle’s trajectory until you’ve escaped Earth’s gravity and are hurtling towards the moon.
The next few days pass in a blur of course corrections, equipment checks, meals, sleep, and anticipation. Then finally, the moment arrives. You feel the shuttle tremble as the engines fire, slowing you down until you achieve lunar orbit insertion.
For the first time, you’re gazing upon the entirety of the moon’s pockmarked surface rather than just a slice of it in the night sky. It’s simultaneously familiar and foreign, a world both near and far.
“We are go for powered descent,” comes the voice of Mission Control. The shuttle shudders as the lander separates, ferrying you and your crewmates down to the awaiting surface. Through the window you watch the grey, dusty terrain rise up to meet you. A perfect landing kicks up plumes of powder.
You’ve arrived.
Stepping outside in your bulky space suit, you marvel at the stark beauty surrounding you. The pitch black sky, dotted more vividly with blazing stars than you could have ever imagined. The rolling plains and hills in muted grays. The unfiltered rays of the sun overhead. And above all, the profoundly silence, unlike anything you’ve experienced on noisy Earth.
You bend down and scoop up some lunar soil, letting it sift through your gloved fingers.
The next two days pass swiftly, filled with collecting samples, setting up experiments, and traversing the alien landscape. Too soon, it’s time to depart. As the shuttle lifts off in a spray of dust, you take one last look at the moon’s cratered face, etching it into your memory.
Returning to Earth, you’re met with great fanfare. Lando wraps you in an enormous bear hug, his relief and elation at having you home safe and sound is infectious. “I’ve missed you so much! Can’t wait to hear all about it,” he holds you tight and refuses to let go.
At the dinner he’s arranged, surrounded by your closest friends and family, you regale everyone with stories about your lunar experience.
Walking in spaces so silent your own heartbeat sounded thunderous. The inexplicable lightness in your limbs from the reduced gravity. Seeing Earth hover above the horizon, a blue and white marble in the void. The sense of wonder at walking upon a heavenly sphere humans have gazed upon for millennia but few have ever touched.
“I’ve always loved you to the moon and back,” you tell Lando, taking his hand. “Now I can say I’ve literally loved you to the moon and back.”
You see his eyes widen as you pull out a small pouch and tip glittering gray dust into his palm — a moon rock. “A little piece of the moon, just for you,” you close his fingers around it.
Lando is momentarily speechless, touched beyond words by your gesture. Then a grin spreads across his face. “You are simply out of this world,” he laughs. “This is going in my trophy case for sure!”
Over the next year, Lando has the moon rock fashioned into a ring, which he wears on race days for good luck. Sure enough, he scores his first ever victory that season, a thrilling achievement after years of near misses and podium finishes.
Standing on top of the podium, Lando whoops and thrusts his trophy high. Then he gazes straight into your eyes and says words meant only for you. “This one’s for the person who has always loved me to the moon and back.”
You beam with joy, pride surging through you. In that moment, all the years of supporting each other through the highs and lows to follow your passions feel profoundly worth it. Because at the end of the day, whether it’s launching into space or racing on Earth, you’re always each other’s biggest fans, connected by a love deeper than any distance — even 768,800 kilometers to the moon and back.
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rui-drawsbox · 8 months
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remembering the most memorable mc's (with canon appearences) from the otomes i played
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all of them are phone games btw. and looong rambling about the games after the cut!
Mystic messenger has been in my radar since i was in elementary school but i played it for the first time after the spanish traslation came out (2017 i think?) Seven shaped my type in such a specific way that im not really sure why loved him so much (it was the whole "he loves you in every route" stuff). I like a lot the default mc, most of the fandom did and that was enough to won me over
Rosa is top tier protagonist tbh, Tears of Themis has really good story and characters (as far i played, not a lot but i enjoyed it) The reason i'm not that much of a fan is bc the game is expensive asf and not very free to play friendly. You're either lucky or have a big wallet with the gacha
i miss my wife man(Marius)
Ephemeral has to be one of the best free to play otomes i've played tbh (if my memories aren't tricking me, it's been years) Good artwork, good storyline, good characters and as far i remember you can unlock one chapter of the character route per day (mabye two days, idk) and the mc's background has an important role in every route (she's a zombie! she's pretty now but eventually will fall apart, aaaaand her story gets expanded in one of the routes!) ((shes also adorable)) There's also a sequel, if you wanted more of the boys! never finished it but i'd recommend it
Honorable mentions! Huellitas Mágicas is a great game! has a really good cast with well fleshed arcs for all the characters, even the scondary ones! The game shines more for the development of *all* the characters rather than just the protagonist/ml. The main theme is overcoming insecurities! Each love interest has a different way of helping our (very insecure) protagonist and helping different characters with their own struggles :DD
10/10 i recommend this game if you want something cute and can be finished in a few hours, if i remember right. It also has a sequel! with like- 12 new love interests, also never finished it bc i didnt found a guide that worked for me but ñek
A3! is my canon event as a gacha player. Discovered the english/global server, tried it and got bored, left it for a few months, tried it again and fell in love, noticed the game was going to shut down bc low sales -HAHA :(-. This is not a otome btw, this is here bc Izumi has to be one of my favorite protagonists in gacha games ever
last but not least! Obey me! Shall we date? oh dear, what have they done to you :(. The original had intense powercreep to force you to pull cards -multiple times bc that makes them stronger- and even now, the company showed a lot of favoritism to some characters, leaving others to dust bc they don't make the same money. Not to say, they released a new game with the same cast and new main story (ignoring all what happend before). And let me say: THEY LITERALLY WANTED TO KILL THE ORIGINAL GAME.
Nightbringer might be a decent game but i don't trust the devs anymore, i still remember what happend with Asmo's birthday right after the release, and honestly i don't want to sit there watching how they disrespect my favorite characters again and again and again. Loved the characters hated the devs. 5/10 you can play it if you want but i don't recommend spending money on it, it's not worth it, just search #obey me here in tumblr and enjoy the amazing fanworks that i can assure you have a lot more love than the game itself
i miss my wife man (mammon and levi)
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
Marauders x reader smut? pretty please?
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“Oh fuck.”
“C’mon, love, that’s not a guess,” a voice mused from your left. Maybe in any other situation, the voice would have been as clear as day. Maybe in any other situation, you would have known which one of your boys had just spoken. 
But in this situation? You could barely string together a coherent sentence, let alone focus on who was talking to you.
You had known provoking your boys was never going to end well for you. You had already spent the last few pushing their buttons, add in the fact all of you had a few intense days between classes and assignments and all sorts that had been tearing you away from each other except for meal times. 
You wanted them in the most deprived, feral way you could have them which just so happened to be tied and spread across the bed, one of their school ties wrapped around your eyes as they each took their turn making you wiggle and squirm with their heads between your thighs. 
Then again, you expected nothing less when you had jokingly remarked each of them were as unremarkable as the next when it came to going down on you at dinner to Lily and Marlene. A sarcastic comment they didn’t like at all. 
That had been hours ago, no here you were, gasping and panting and moaning as they made you come again and again and again until your brain was fuzzy and your body was on fire and you could barely remember your own name, let alone theirs. 
Two arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread open as an eager tongue lapped and licked your soaking cunt. You were shaking, far too overstimulated and sensitive but the boy between your legs was eager to please, licking you like he was a starved man. 
“Take a guess, honey, and we’ll let you have a break.” 
“I-I can’t,” you whined, your lips falling open as the boy between your legs sucked your swollen clit between his lips, his hands digging into your skin as you let out a pathetic mewl. “F-Feels too good, please—” 
“Gotta guess, love,” the boy between your legs groaned, his nose playfully nudging against your inner thigh before he placed open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “Not gonna stop until then, could fucking stay here forever.”
“I—” your head lolled to the side, your cheek pressed against the pillow beneath you as you tried to string a sentence together. 
“Just gotta say a name, baby.” 
“James!” you cried out as his tongue teased your entrance, watching the way you fluttered and clenched around nothing. “I-It’s James!”
You whined when the body between your legs disappeared, your body shivering at the sudden loss of warmth as the chill of the dorm room washed over you. You heard footsteps before you felt someone leaning over you, pressing their lips against yours as they pulled the blindfold off you. 
“Good job, love,” Remus murmured against your lips as he cupped his cheek, his thumb wiping away a few stray tears. “Been so good for us.” 
“So good,” you breathed out, nodding your head. 
His eyes darkened as he smirked down at you. “It’s a shame we’re not done with you, baby, gotta make sure our good girl remembers who she belongs to, hm?”
.
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nutmeggery · 1 year
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I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.
When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.
But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)
I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...
See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.
I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.
While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?
Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.
It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.
And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.
It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.
And by a few minutes I meant a few days.
More than a few, actually.
I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.
But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.
Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.
Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).
And I'm having a wonderful time.
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muniimyg · 10 months
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6.5: baby 》 series m.list
note: oh my gawd ,, my friends !!! i’m so sorry for the wait! i was in my finals szn & tryna figure things out w my courses for my next sem … meanwhile ,, this entire ch has been brewing and consuming my mind like crazy! hope u guys enj ,, pls pls pls lmk what u guys think !!! i’m so glad i can finally push this ch out so lets fcking tawk abt it 😫
warnings: making out, mini fingering moment, raw sex, grinding, thigh humping ? ass slapping, pussy eating, 69, doggy style, cum shots & filming / sex tape vibes……… dirty talk / name calling <3 lol !!!
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook
//
Jungkook was afraid of this. 
From the moment he first made you laugh—oh, he knew he was fucked. Something inside him twisted and turned until his mind found ease from your very touch. Then, suddenly and all at once, every fiber in his body surrendered. Though he didn’t do the best job, he still tried. He tried his best to resist you and the feelings his heart felt. As his heart found rest with yours—it was then he realized that it was no use.
He was addicted to you. 
It’s like he’s a child all over again, tasting his favourite chocolate bar for the first time. It’s like he’s a timid high schooler trying weed and getting so high, that he’s already making plans to do this again tomorrow. Or, it’s like he’s a man falling in love for the first time. 
For real. 
No bullshit, just the plain and boring truth. No, he wasn’t only addicted to you… Jungkook is falling in love with—
“Cute room.” You step into his room and shut the door behind you. The room is dim, only lit with his warm lamp light and a few candles placed around. It looked romantic and for some reason, it did not scare you. If anything, it entices you. 
He was so thoughtful. 
Before you can look around any further, you feel Jungkook’s body embrace yours. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight by your waist and digging his face into the crook of your neck. He kisses you behind your ear, causing you to giggle from the ticklish feeling. At this moment, you take in the scent of his freshly washed hair.
Is it odd to say this has to be one of your favourite scents? You’ve grown to like it. If anything, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you see him and his hair isn’t a little damp. Something about him being freshly showered makes your heart race. His damp hair is a symbol of his priorities… And that priority is you. Not to mention, wet hair has got to be the most romantic look any boy could have… You’ve always told yourself that as a child. Now, here you are: standing in a room with a damp-haired boy clinging to you. 
Nothing makes you happier than this. 
“I think Yuna saw me—mmfphh,” your words are interrupted by Jungkook’s lips. He greets you with a peck before continuing to kiss you like it’s his last dying wish. 
His hands find their way to your hair, cupping your jaw as you kiss him back. Your lips sync together as if it’s been a lifetime since you two last did this.
Only it wasn’t—it hasn’t been.
It feels like it though. 
“Miss me much?” you ask, breaking away from the intense kiss. He leans his forehead against yours, wasting no time and letting his hands travel inside your shirt. You feel his fingers trace over your bra, quickly finding the clasp and undoing it with his one hand.
Impressive, you must admit.
Should you be mad at that? 
Jungkook smirks, “fuck around and find out.”
A small laugh escapes your lips as you raise your arms. He lifts your shirt over your head, leaving your top exposed. Your bra is barely hanging on and Jungkook can’t keep his eyes off your breasts. 
“How about a hi first?”
“Hi ___,” he obliges. Then, he taps his fingers together, bringing them close to his lips. Like a menace, he grins. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?” 
Playfully, you roll your eyes at him and respond by taking the bra off yourself. You fling it at his face, just enough for it to land perfectly on top of his hair. One cup covers his face and he takes a breath in. 
“Smells like you.”
“Smells like my boob sweat, you pervert.”
He takes the bra off from his face and licks his lips at the sight of your bare chest. “I can keep it in my pants… You on the other hand… A few nights ago? Drunk? You were coming on to me. Hard.”
You huff. “I was drunk.”
“You also said you’d hold my hand… Without arguing with me.”
“What? That doesn’t count. I was drunk.” Your words come out fast. It almost sounds defensive and harsh. “Jungkook, I was drunk.”
“Oh, I know.” He shrugs, taking the high road. “No need to be so uptight about it. It’s okay to hold hands, you know? The same way it’s okay to be obsessed with me, baby… This is a safe space.” 
The audacity! More than that, you wince at the pet name. “Who the fuck is baby?”
Jungkook ignores your question and takes a step closer to you. As he does so, he takes his shirt off. He then tosses his shirt to the side of his room where his laundry hamper is. As you turn your attention back to him, your eyes fall on his pelvis area as he begins to undo his pants. Then, he pauses when he notices your gaze. 
“Do it for me.”
You raise a brow. 
“Pardon?”
“Take my pants off,” he points at the floor. “Get on your knees and take my pants off.”
For a split second, you hesitate. Earlier tonight, as you made your way over, you thought about what kind of mood he must’ve been in. You’ve seen Jungkook happy, irritated, tired, and even hangry… But horny in a needy and demanding way? Boarder-line desperate? Never. His doe eyes and goofy attitude can’t fool you… You’ve wondered about this. 
You’ve waited for this side of him. 
Perhaps it was your curiosity that answered for you because, without breaking eye contact, you fell to your knees. Jungkook’s gaze lowers as you bring your hands to his crotch. You palm him, feeling his cock and gulping at how hard it already was. Faintly, you hear him snicker at your submissiveness. 
He likes this. 
Slowly, you undo his pants and tug them down. In his Calvins, his raging boner greets you. Just as you slip your thumbs in between the fabric to pull them down, Jungkook grabs your wrists and pulls you to stand up. You follow his lead, confused. 
“I thought I was going to—”
Jungkook undoes your cargo pants buttons and tugs them down. He gives you no warning as he licks his thumb and slips his hand inside your panties. You feel his wet thumb rubbing your clit. Your breath hitches as he draws circles and then adds another finger into the mix. He deepens his rubbing, slowly but surely dragging his fingers around your folds. Jungkook then shifts his hand placement, quickly inserting a finger inside of you. The shock sends shivers down your spine and completely takes your focus. He adds another finger and it earns a lewd moan from you. 
“Ooh my god—”
Then, he stops. 
He takes his fingers out and examines the wetness. Your eyebrows furrow together, completely unsure of the pace he’s going at. How long would this last? Why couldn’t he just continue?
“Sorry, were you enjoying that?” Jungkook asks innocently.
It’s official: you hate him.
Dumbfounded, you shoot him a glare. “Maybe I was. Who knows? I wasn’t finished.”
Jungkook exchanges with laughter. “Finished? Five minutes in? Pookie, you give me way too much credit.”
You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at how cocky he is. Truth be told, this suited him. The nasty comments and the edging… It feels like this should’ve happened before. It’s hard to explain but he just looks so comfortable with control. In a more unexplainable way—you can’t help but feel comfortable with it.
“Come on,” he nods towards the bed. “If you wanna finish, you should do it sitting on my face.”
His words make your tummy flip. Was he serious? The texts he sent prior to this.. You were so sure it was all talk. The most you expected was a quickie and a few nasty exchanges… But this? You don’t know what to think.
Jungkook lays on his bed first, gesturing you to follow. 
“Are you serious?”
With a flat tone, he answers: “Why would I joke about this?”
To be completely honest, he was a little offended you weren’t taking him seriously. Of course, he’s serious about eating you out. This was no joke to him.
Crossing your arms, you look at him in disbelief. “You want to do everything you texted me? Jungkook, there are people downstairs. Our friends are downstairs and—”
“I know,” he groans. “That’s why you need to shut the fuck up and sit on my face already. The longer we take, the more they will wonder where you are. Didn’t you say Yuna saw you come up here?”
“Y-yeah,” you recall. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”
He hits his bed with his fist like a child. “Why do you always deprive me?”
You gasp at his dramatic question. “Deprive you? It’s just my body, Jungkook. Do you crave pussy this bad?”
Tilting his head, he looks at you softly. “You,” he breathes. “I crave you.”
A silence falls between you two, followed by a heavy sigh. 
“Look, I’m never going to make you do things with me if you don’t want to. I’m only demanding tonight because I just—I really need you right now. If you want to go downstairs and find Yuna, go ahead. We can do this another time… I just thought you missed me just as much as I missed you.”
“Gaslighter.”
He chuckles, attempting to hide the smile on his face as you get on the bed. Moving closer to him, he watches your hands roam from his abdomen to his jaw. Placing chante kisses on him, he stutters his words. “I’m s-serious. It’s fine. It’s just pussy.”
“But it’s my pussy.”
“True,” Jungkook agrees, leaning back and watching you place yourself on his thigh. “So fucking true, pookie.”
You lean in to kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, only to grind your hips. He feels your wet pussy on his thigh and he feels like he could choke on air. It’s torture watching you throw your head back at the sensation. You can’t help but embrace the feeling of relief.
“You’re not finishing on my thigh,” he mutters, placing his hands on your waist. He lifts you just enough for you to get off. Laughing, he squiggles down the bed so you have more space. Before you know it, you’re making yourself comfortable on his face. As you straddle yourself on, you make a confession.
“W-wait, I’m scared! I don’t want to suffocate you—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Jungkook snaps, unable to watch his tone. “This is literally all I’ve ever wanted so you need to shut the fuck up and let me have this.”
“Okay, okay,” you snicker lightly, as you sink into his face. “But seriously! I don’t want to crush—“
You don’t even finish your sentence. You’re cut off by the feeling of Jungkook’s hot breath against your pussy. Then, you feel his nose against your clit and the texture of his tongue brush against your folds. The feeling shocks you, causing you to lift yourself out of reflex. Just as quickly, Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and holds you to stay. 
“J-Jungkook, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You can and you will, got it?” he hisses. “Hold the fucking headboard if you need to. You aren’t going anywhere until your cum is on my tongue.”
You do as he says.
You lean forward, grabbing a hold of his headboard for support. 
Just as those thoughts immerse your mind, you feel him dragging his tongue across your folds. It begins slow and soft. It feels like kitten licks and if the word cute was a feeling… This was it. Then, he flicks his tongue and it’s everything but cute from here on out. You want to jolt, but you keep what Jungkook said to you in mind. Besides, there is no place in the world you would rather be at than here. Jungkook eats you out like he’s a starved man. He doesn’t miss an inch of your pussy and tightens his grip around your thighs each time your body twitches. 
Biting your bottom lip, you hold in your moan. 
He feels so good. His tongue against your wet pussy feels so fucking good—it’s almost comical how you were so hesitant to do this. Soon enough, you let go of the headboard and search for his hands. Like second nature, you and Jungkook intertwine your fingers together and finally, you close your eyes and give in. 
You can have this.
You can have him.
“Y-you feel so good,” you confess shyly. “You make me feel so good.”
Jungkook smiles against your pussy as you begin to roll your hips against his face. He knew it would take some time, but you’d eventually come around. No pun intended. 
“C-close,” you utter in between heavy exhales. “Jungkook—I’m close! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
You hold his hand tighter and push your weight on him harder. You feel him quicken the pace as he licks you and—holy shit.
Are those stars?
You cum.
Messy, wet, and hard. 
Jungkook moans against your pussy, taking a moment to bite your inner thigh. Your legs practically shake, causing you to completely rest your weight on his face. After a few moments, you gather whatever energy you have left and shift your position. You turn your body around and line yourself with his cock. Jungkook stretches his neck out to figure out what you’re doing. Before he can comment, your lips are already placing kisses on his dick. Your fingers dig into his Calvins and pull them off. 
“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaking from anticipation. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were doing—he just couldn’t believe it. He’s so fucking lucky. 
“34 plus 35! Do the math,” you tease. “Keep it up, okay?”
Jungkook laughs, pinching your ass in response. “Keep up with me then.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He rubs the spot he pinched your ass and shakes his head. “I already have one point… Doubt you’re gonna catch up.”
“You could nut twice,” you suggest. Then you turn your head and shake your ass in his face. “For me? So we’re even.”
Jungkook bites his lips. “Then it wouldn’t be a completion.”
“I hate losing.”
“So do I.” Jungkook then wastes no time. He digs himself in you again, flicking his tongue at all the right times and places. 
You groan, hating how much you love this. You try to focus. After pumping him a few times, you stuff his cock in your mouth. Moaning from how thick he is, you suck him off. Your cheeks begin to feel a little sore after a few minutes, but by then his dick is up. He’s as hard as can be and you can even feel his veins come out more and more. Every time you pull his cock out, you make sure to be as loud as you can. The pop sound makes Jungkook’s blood rush to his dick and the way you suck him so sloppy and hard only reminds him of the time you did this in his car. That night, Jungkook had never felt more attracted to you. 
Your jealousy had consumed his every thought for days after. 
Just like that, Jungkook’s stomach twitches. He feels a rush and it goes straight from his dick and out.
Like a loser, Jungkook cums and whimpers loudly. 
“F-fuck yes. Holy shit, ___.. Just like that… Mhmm,” his breath hitches. “Fuck!”
Lips pressed against his dick, you let his cum spill on your face. Mostly, it hits your nose bridge and your upper lip. You shift off of Jungkook and kneel in front of him. He gulps, watching you with longing eyes. You stick your tongue out, bring your fingers to where his cum landed and taste it. You lick your lips and swallow with a cute moan. 
“Yummy.”
He hisses, and immediately takes you by the waist. You giggle, unable to stop it from becoming a laugh. “Did that turn you on, pookie?”
Jungkook glares at you, swiping a bit of his cum with his thumb. Without warning, he then shoves his thumb into your mouth. As you suck, he cups the rest of his hand around your jaw and ravishes at your beauty. 
A layer of sweat makes you shine, and the strands of your hair on your forehead never made you look so beautiful to him before. Your lips are perfect—puffy and tainted with his cum. Your eyes—god, your eyes… They’re smiling at him and he swears he has never felt his heart flutter like this ever. 
As you sit on top of his dick, you roll your hips against it. When you do this, both of you watch it happen. You lean back, planting your hands on each side of his legs. Jungkook watches as your folds drag and split open against his cock. You can’t help but let out hitched breathes as you take in the feeling of his member. How his veins feel against you. How his soft skin feels as you soak it with your wetness.. All of it. 
All of him. 
“You like that, hmm? You like grinding on my cock with your pussy all wet?” He pries, turning up his dirty talk. “Come on, baby… You know how I like it, right? Why don’t you be a good girl and put it in? Sink into it like the little cockslut you are… For me?”
You moan, hissing his name. “Jungkook, shut the fuck up. Just enjoy this.”
As punishment, you rub yourself on him harder. Each roll of your hips has more pressure and his dick feels like it’s going to explore. He watches, hating you more and more as his head turns red. You hump his cock, moaning at the sensation.
“Holy shit,” Jungkook whines. “I’m not gonna last even if you ride me.”
“Loser.”
He chuckles, too lazy to put up a fight. “Let’s go doggy, please.”
You think about it. “Beg for it.”
“Very funny.” Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He tosses you over and gets on his knees. You arch your back and get taken aback when Jungkook swiftly places a pillow under your stomach. You turn back to give him a confused look. 
“You might cramp.” 
Huffing, you bite back. “I won’t cramp. You’re gonna nut before I cramp.”
He rolls his eyes at you and tells you to shut up. You bite your bottom lip, even more excited and eager to feel him. Doggy style isn’t your favourite… But for some reason, it feels hot. Doing this with Jungkook makes your mind spin and you aren’t sure if your playful remarks are masking how nervous you are. Underneath your teasing, you have no idea how you’re doing or saying any of these things. How are you even doing this with him right now? It’s fucking wild. 
“Gonna put it in now,” Jungkook’s voice sounds a little parched at this point. “If you cream my dick, can I film it?”
His question catches you by surprise.
“Your face wouldn’t be in it… And y-you don’t even have to say yes. I just… I miss you sometimes and I think about fucking you a lot so a video would be—”
“I trust you,” you say, flipping to face him. “Honestly? I’ll film a bit of it. Bet it’ll get you off in the future.” Then, you reach over his nightstand and swipe on his phone to the camera icon. You hold it and press record. Jungkook smirks and you zoom into his face. 
“Cute,” you laugh. 
Again, Jungkook rolls his eyes but loves every moment of this. You go back on all fours and hold the camera out. It captures half of your face, a bit of your boobs, and your ass. Jungkook places himself at your rear. You watch from the screen as Jungkook spits on his dick before he pushes himself inside you. He thrusts a few times before you let out a moan. 
You bite your lip for the camera and let a giggle escape in between Jungkook’s thrusts. His breathing gets heavy as he picks up the pace and fucks you harder. 
“J-Jungkook,” you whimper. 
“Louder,” he commands as he fucks you. You close your eyes, taking in how good he feels inside you. He’s throbbing. He’s so fucking big.
“Oh my god, Jungkook! Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder! Please, please, please!”
“Say my name,” Jungkook growls. “Say it louder.” 
“Fuck me,” you ignore his request. “You’re so big. I’m so fucking lucky. I love it. I love your cock so much!”
He slaps your ass. 
“Say my fucking name.” Jungkook pushes himself deeper into you, taking his time doing so. You hate how slow it feels now. “Whose making you feel this way? You’re so wet taking my cock in. Don’t be a bad girl… Are you a bad girl?”
“N-no,” you cry, feeling each thrust intensify.
“What are you then? My little slut? My fucking cock hungry slut? You won’t even say my name… You’re just a dirty bad girl. Fucking disrespectful at this point.”
“No, I’m not!” you feel tears begin to jerk in. “I love your cock too much to disrespect it—I,” you catch your breath, “I’m not a dirty bad girl!”
“What are you then? Because if you were a good girl, you’d say my fucking name… Say it. Be a good girl and say whose fucking cock you’re going to cream.”
“J-Jungkook!”
“Louder.” He pauses, leaving his cock to twitch inside you. 
“Please… Fuck me so good I cream your cock…”
“No. My name. Say my fucking name—”
“Oh my god, Jungkook!”
He smirks.  
Jungkook loves this so much. It does more than feed his ego—it ignites it.
He loves the way you say his name. He loves the way you call for him and how soft your tone gets when the sentence gets to his name. He absolutely fucking loves it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you sob as he continues to fuck you. He fucks you rough, sloppy, and messy. You feel his dick slip in and out so easily that the friction is pure pleasure. 
“Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook,” you chant. “I’m not a good girl—I’m just…”
“You’re what?”
“I’m your girl,” you exhale. “R-right?”
Jungkook loses it. 
He fucking loses his mind.
Hastly, he leans over and grabs your tits. He fucks himself into you more and more, while biting your ear and kissing your neck. You moan and whimper, watching how hot it all looks on camera. Jungkook then rides his orgasm, not leaving you behind. He takes his phone from your hands and begins to film himself fucking you. The camera captures his dick going in and out of your pussy. How your ass bounces each time it hits his pelvis. It captures his breathy moans and his hushed, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
“J-Jungkook—I’m gonna cum! Oh my god, oh my god.”
And you do.
You cream his dick. As he pulls in and out of you, the camera catches your creamy release on his dick. 
It doesn’t take much after that. He isn’t sure if it’s just the heat of the moment or the fact that your brain is all fucked out by now—it doesn’t matter. The words that escaped your lips were enough. Jungkook cums hard and loud. He groans, hissing as he spills himself. You gasp when you feel his cock pull out of you harshly. Jungkook slips his one hand under you and flips you on your back. As you lay there, you watch as he pumps himself. He then aims his squirts of cum at your tits, and films as they land over your nipples. His breath is shakey from the relief and tiresome act and yours is the same. Except, you can’t help but let out a lewd giggle. 
Holy fuck, this was such a workout.
Like earlier, you take your finger and swipe some of his cum off your breast. Bringing it to your lips, you lick it and smile sweetly at him. He chuckles as he films it and you laugh. Really, you laugh for real. Then he laughs and offers you high-5. 
You laugh even harder, especially as you recall this being your reward. Even though it’s childish, you accept his gesture and feel special. Slamming your hand onto his, you lock them together and tug him towards you. He ends the recording just before he collapses on you. 
After all that, finally, you two share a kiss. 
A deep, soft, and much-needed kiss. 
The addiction to you was no different than an adrenaline junkie getting ready to jump off a cliff. No, there was no turning back. 
Your lips were addictive. The sweetness of everything your body would give him—it was like a fucking reward. Every saliva exchange, every drip from your pussy, to every tear shed while he digs himself deeper and deeper into you… He wants them all. 
As sick as it sounds, he’d lick it all up just to have you in him even more. Just to be close to you. Just to be closer. 
Every inch of you, he wants to devour. 
Like a starved man, he’d fall to his knees and beg for an ounce of kindness. A chance to satisfy you—a simple kiss, deepened by the second. Hands intertwined as you spread your legs for him as he places himself in between. 
As he leans his forehead against yours, he sneaks in a few pecks. “I can’t believe we have a sex tape.”
You roll your eyes. “Perv.” 
“You consented,” he sings happily. “Do you want me to delete it?”
You shake your head as he makes himself comfortable. “No… Send it to me later though. I miss you sometimes too.” 
A hearty chuckle escapes his lips as he snuggles into your embrace. You wrap your arms around him. Jungkook digs his face into his favourite spot—aside from your pussy—the cook of your neck. 
Sometimes. 
You miss him sometimes?
That’s a funny way of saying always. 
The muffled sound of music blasting downstairs and people chatting becomes evident. Yet, you two stay silent. Laying together, fingers and legs intertwined. Naked. 
When was it ever this easy? Why did this feel so right? Being with Jungkook has never been difficult—but when was it like this? When did things change? The sudden realization of the words you said while you two were intimate hit you. Were you really his girl? Did you want to be? Would he accept you if you asked?
Not only that but—when did you… When has it…
When did this begin?
These feelings.
There’s a tightness in your chest you can’t explain. Something that has been around for a while now. Long enough that you don’t remember when it first occurred and began to glow whenever he was around. What the fuck is up with that? 
As he fucked you tonight, that’s all you felt. Your heart was glowing. The closeness with him—regardless of how nasty—it was so special. It felt so good and like nothing you’ve ever felt. As you trace random things on his back with your nails, you hear him murmur, “mhmm… Yup. I love it when you do this, ___.”
It startles you.
When did you begin doing this? Being so intimate with him? Scratching his back, drawing hearts with your fingernails… When did this all happen? He says it like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Then, it gets hot. Suddenly, you notice how sweaty you two are and how it’s way too comfortable in his bed with him. You sit yourself up, causing him to follow. 
“I’m glad you came.”
“Pun intended?”
Jungkook pinches your cheeks and presses a kiss on your nose. “Whatever you want.”
You shove him away and get up from his bed. At least, you attempt to. 
Your legs feel shaky. He quickly holds you by the waist and catches your stumble. Looking up at him, you huff. “Look at what you did!”
“What?” he panics. 
“Jungkook, I can’t fucking walk!” You begin to freak out. “How am I supposed to go downstairs and act normal? Yuna is gonna ask so many questions and—”
“Relax,” Jungkook sets you down on his bed. “I got you.”
You sit and pout as he heads to his bathroom. When he returns, he has a black shirt and pants on. He holds a damp towel and collects your clothes off the floor. Jungkook kneels in front of you and begins to pat wipe your sweaty skin. First, your forehead, neck, and then he uses a face towel to wipe his cum off your breast. Then, he continues to pat dry your arms and in between your legs. 
Without exchanging words, he helps dress you. The entire time, he was careful and used a soft tone whenever he did speak. For the most part, he just looked at you lovingly. That look in his eyes… You know in your heart you will never forget. 
When you’re all dressed, a good enough time has passed for you to recover. Not fully, but just enough. Jungkook helps you get up and you hiss at the initial soreness. 
“Round two?” 
You hit his chest and roll your eyes. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”
“Insanely hot?”
“Whatever you want.”
He isn’t sure what to do. 
You laugh it off, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. As you two look into each other's eyes, he feels his heart race. 
He should just say it, right? It’s easy. 
Spit it out.
___, do you want to go out with me?
Or should he do a whole confession?
___, we’ve been doing this for a while now… And I think I’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to you. I miss you when I’m not with you. When I’m with you, I never want the moment to end. Being close to you has to be my favourite part of living. 
But when he opens his mouth to speak—
“Should we go downstairs? I need water.” 
He blinks. 
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook reaches for the door. Then, as he turns the door knob, he stops himself. “One more kiss, please.”
Without a fight, you tiptoe and kiss him. Smiling into the kiss, he leans more into it and gropes your ass. You hit his chest playfully, signaling him to pull away. With great sadness, he does so. 
“I’ll go out first.”
Your words cut him deeper than a knife. 
Right.
You two aren’t dating.
You two are just fucking—in secret, at that. 
“Why can’t we leave together?” he asks, sounding a little desperate. “You said it yourself. You don’t really care if people know or not… I doubt anyone will even care.”
Shrugging, you nod. “Sure,” you answer him. “I’m not trying to hide us or anything… I just don’t really want to be questioned… But, considering I can’t really walk right now…”
He laughs, feeling like he saved himself from sadness. 
“Can we hold hands?”
You give him a face. “Don’t push it.”
“But you said—”
“I was drunk!”
Jungkook laughs, as he opens the door. Stepping out together, he locks his bedroom door as you continue bantering. Pushing past everyone in the hall, he can’t help but feel a sense of relief. 
It was a small thing. Leaving the room together and even suggesting to hold hands—it was a long shot but here he was.
With you.
Lingering fingertips and all. 
As you two head down the stairs, you’re immediately greeted by the smell of alcohol and sweaty bodies. Jungkook leans into your ear and whispers, “ahh… See? We’re blending right in.” 
He’s talking about smelling like sweaty sex. 
You bring your hands to your face, covering yourself and the shyness that rushes to your cheeks. He laughs and you hit his chest for the nth time tonight. 
“Why are you covering your face? It’s like I didn’t just see you naked. Like I didn’t fuck you—”
“Oh my god!” you cover his mouth and look around to see if anyone heard what he said so bluntly. “I know I said I don’t care if people knew but can you relax? Don’t be so proud you fucked me.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jungkook says sincerely. “Do you have any idea how admired you are?”
“So I’m a prize?” you laugh. “What a joke.”
Jungkook gawks at you. 
“Do you have any idea how hard I’d try to win you if this was the fucking hunger games? I’d die for you.”
You snort. “Did you even read the series—”
“No,” he snickers. “But you get what I mean, right?”
“Not really…” you trail, turning your head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. You aren’t too sure where this conversation was heading and perhaps you aren’t ready for whatever he has to say next. “Can we—”
“I won’t get all gushy and all because you’re going to get all self-conscious and then retort by saying I have post-sex feelings—but just know you’re it. The standard. A prize. Endgame.. All of it. You’re it.”
Too stunned to speak, your lips curve into a small smile. “Jungkook—”
“___!”
You and Jungkook turn your heads and see Yuna approaching with Taehyung. She smiles brightly, practically throwing herself at you. You catch her, hug her, and tilt your head in confusion as Taehyung whispers something in Jungkook’s ear. 
Jungkook lowers his gaze at you, gulping as Taehyung finishes his exchange and steps away. Then, Taehyung offers you a short lived smile. 
“Hey, ___. How are you?” Taehyung’s voice is calm and sweet… It’s so opposite from how suspicious he’s acting.
“Good…” you say with your eyebrow raised. “What’s going on?”
Yuna tugs on your arm. “Nothing!” She sneers at Taehyung and gives him a warning look. “Way to be discrete.”
“You said to follow your lead! You aren’t doing much so I—”
“You’re the worst partner in crime ever!” Yuna scolds him.
You shake your head at the two, feeling at home with their bickering. Taehyung and Yuna act like such a married couple most of the time they’re together—you were used to it at this point. In between their bickering, you glance at Jungkook who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. 
For some reason, you can’t make out what the look on his face is. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look sad either. He wasn’t angry… He looked… Eager? Worried? In agony?
“You okay?” you ask, moving away from Yuna and to Jungkook’s side. He slides his arms around your waist. You let him. 
Pulling you close, his lips shape into a pout. You cup his cheeks and squish them together. “Jungkook?”
“Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggests, resting his face on the palm of your hands. “Wanna get out of here? I’m suddenly not in the mood.”
“To what? Party?”
“To be anywhere without you.”
“But I’m here.” You reason.
He shakes his head, insisting something else. “But not you’re here with me… You know?”
You do know. 
“S-sure,” you agree even though a part of you feels hesitant. Not that you don’t want too.. More like you’re nervous and afraid of what it’ll lead to. More feelings? More sex? You don’t think you can go another round. “Where should we—”
“___ baby!” 
Your head turns to your name being called by a familiar voice. 
From the corner of your eyes, you see Taehyung and Yuna exchange disappointed looks. Just as you’re about to ask what’s going on, Seokjin and Eunwoo approach you. 
“Eunwoo,” you greet warmly. You step away from Jungkook and hug him. 
“You haven’t been answering my texts… Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” he whines like a child. You laugh lightly and tiptoe to ruffle his hair. Though it’s only been a few months, he hasn’t changed. He still acts like a lost puppy. “Jungkook, what’s up?”
Jungkook dabs Eunwoo up with low effort. You give him a confused look, wondering why he was acting all sulky all of the sudden. From what you recall, these two are friends. As Eunwoo greets Yuna and Taehyung, Seokjin greets you rather drunkenly. Then, he excuses himself to piss. Everyone rolls their eyes at his behaviour but let him do what he needs to.
“Can we talk?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. His question breaks the ice, but wins a wide-eyes from you all.
You tilt your head. “What about?”
“Us.”
Instantly, Jungkook feels like he’s being punched in the face. No, he wishes he was being punched in the face. Being punched in the face would be more enjoyable than standing here in between you and Eunwoo.
He has only tried a handful of times to ask and understand what happened between you and Eunwoo, but he never pressed it. Right now, he wishes he had. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so threatened right now. But he didn’t and he does. Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying his best to mask his feelings. 
Was there still something between you and Eunwoo? Were you still texting him? Is Eunwoo who you’re with when you’re not with him?
All these thoughts and self-doubt flood Jungkook’s mind. 
It sinks and his insecurities make a home as you nod politely and follow Eunwoo away from the crowd. Away from him.
Not even a goodbye?
As you slip away, Jungkook sighs. How did you do that? He feels disappointed and hurt—offended even. How dare you pick someone else over him? Though no feelings between you two were expressed or exchanged in a way where commitment and exclusivity would be the trade-off—still, this wasn’t fair.
How could you walk away? Like it was easy? Like you weren’t just with him seconds ago?
It aches.
It hurts so bad that it even his anger is weak. 
No matter how much he wants to—he can’t blame you. 
He never asked you out.
“I like the way you look at her,” Yuna comforts Jungkook by patting his back. 
“Huh?” Jungkook snaps out of his thoughts. “What do you mean? Look at who?”
Yuna nudges him and gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me,’ look. Then, she explains herself. “I always knew you were nice. Taehyung talks about the shit you put up with and the things you do to please people… Like how you joined the team again after they begged you to even though you felt burnt out… How you always limit your drinking so you’re sober enough to walk ___ home. How you come over and take care of her when she’s piss drunk and probably gave you a hard time—”
Jungkook’s eyes get shifty. “How do you know about that—”
“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t tell me shit, though. She doesn’t know I know and we’re going to keep it that way.” Yuna pokes Jungkook’s chest. 
He furrows his brows. “Why does everything have to be a secret when it comes to ___?”
Yuna doesn’t have an answer for him. Instead, she continues her little speech.
“You’re a nice guy… But to ___, you’re kind. It’s in your gaze. It’s in the way you always offer yourself to her. It’s in the way you’re her friend above all else—I’m so thankful you’re who you are when you’re with her. You look at her like she’s your entire world… I don’t know if you even know that—but that’s how you look at her. You look at her and it’s… It’s like she’s the only person in the world.”
Jungkook hates the words Yuna speaks. Partly because they’re all true and partly because he doesn’t know what to do after. Yuna squeezes his shoulders and he feels like he could cry. 
“Can you tell her I’ll be in my room? Waiting for her?” Jungkook pleas.
Yuna nods and excuses herself to find you in the crowd. You’re throwing your head back, laughing at whatever Eunwoo whispered in your ear. When Yuna approaches you and passes the message, you find Jungkook’s eyes from across the room. 
You smile at him and wave. 
He stands still, not knowing what to do. Before you know it, you watch him pick up his feet and head back upstairs. He doesn’t look back.
Yuna did tell you he’d be in his room… So that’s probably where he’s headed. In your mind, you make a mental note to go upstairs and figure things out with Jungkook in ten minutes. 
You’ll give Eunwoo ten more minutes... The rest of the night can be for Jungkook. 
Upstairs, Jungkook sits on the edge of his messy bed. Knees to his chest, he thinks about how fucked up everything got in a matter of moments. Did it really just take one conversation with your ex to lose you as quickly as he got you? Is this the reality of being a fuckbuddy?
He hates it. 
Jungkook clenches his fits, recalling the words Taehyung said to him. 
“Eunwoo’s tryna get back together with ___… I don’t know why it’s so important to Yuna but she said she tried to talk him out of it. Yuna said to get ___ out of here? Again, I don’t know why… I thought Eunwoo was Yuna’s favourite for ___ but I’m guessing not anymore…”
It was comforting to know that Yuna was on Jungkook’s side… But did it matter if you weren’t? You’re downstairs, talking and probably making plans to get back together with your ex.
Meanwhile, Jungkook sits in his room and waits until his eyes betray him. They flutter shut, falling asleep to the faint sound of your laugh downstairs and to the hope of you fulfilling a promise you never made.
In the morning, Jungkook wakes up and cries. He cries out of frustration and hurt. His heart feels heavy, like it could collapse and be broken. He has never felt so betrayed before.
And it’s pathetic because even then—especially then—he still waits for you.
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arjwrites · 3 months
Text
Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.
Warnings: Language, character death, thoughts of suicide, references to sex, threats... A good mix of fluff and angst! Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This one was a labor of love! I have a few other fics in the works as per a few requests I have received, but this one was speaking to me tonight, so I sat down to write it! Please enjoy- in the meantime, your requests are coming soon! <3
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“Dean Winchester, I could just KILL you!” 
You were extremely familiar with the Winchester boys’ prank wars by now. You had been witness to a few different cycles of this behavior over the many years you had known them- in fact, if someone were to dig through the old cardboard box you kept hidden in the spare room at Bobby’s, they’d probably find a few faded teenage pictures of a bald Sam after Dean snuck Nair into his shampoo, or a sleeping Dean with some sharpie-d enhancements adorning his face. But up until now, you had always kept to the sidelines. Time and time again, you claimed Switzerland to avoid their shenanigans, because it always got way too out of hand.
But today, when you climbed out of bed, still groggy with sleep, stepping into the bathroom of your shared motel room, an entire bucket’s worth of ice water that had been balanced atop the door came crashing down on you. The sensation sent a shockwave through your whole body, and from the noise that escaped your lips, you would’ve thought you had been shot. And to add insult to injury, the bucket itself smacked against your head on its way down. 
So to start your day, you were soaking wet, freezing, pissed off, and nursing a swelling bump atop your head. A blind rage filled your body. You knew it had to have been Dean, it was his turn to retaliate after Sam had messed with the stereo in the Impala so that it only played Barbie Girl. It had been a long, silent ride home after last night’s hunt. 
“Dean Winchester, you are a dead man!” The words came bursting out of you as you stormed your way out of the bathroom.
“What did I- Oh my GOD. That wasn’t for you.” Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. He knew he had fucked up. 
The first thing to go flying across the room was the bucket, which nailed Dean in the chest with an anticlimactic thud. You followed close behind it. At full speed, you sprinted into Dean, knocking him back onto the bed behind him.
“Get off me! You’re soaking wet!” Dean protested, throwing his arms between you two in an effort to shield himself. 
“Yeah, how do you like it?” You weren’t going to back down. 
So that is how you ended up wrestling with Dean. You put up a surprisingly good fight for a lot longer than you expected, able to overpower him via sheer force of will. Once Dean got his bearings, though, he flipped you over, hovering on top of you and pinning you to the bed by your wrists. You held an intense eye contact for a brief moment while you each caught your breath. In doing so, you came to the mutual realization that this was ridiculous. You didn’t know who cracked the smile first, but as Dean’s grew, so did yours, until you were grinning like idiots and erupting into laughter.
“You know, this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you wet and in my bed,” Dean raised his eyebrows and tossed you a sly wink.
“Yup, I’m doing it. I am killing you.” 
-
“Dean I swear to God, if you keep me cooped up in this motel room for one more minute I am going to lose my mind.” 
“Would you relax? Sam and I are almost back at the witch’s house. We’ll gank her, it’ll reverse the spell, you’ll be right as rain.”
“God I hope so. This is driving me up the wall. I will never watch another second of daytime TV after this.” With the press of a button, you hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the bed. This was getting seriously old.
While taking on a vengeful spirit case, you and the Winchesters had run into a particularly pesky witch. Long story short, she cast a spell at you, and none of you could figure out what it was. It was driving you crazy, and what was driving you crazier was that the boys had locked you in the motel room for two days while they tracked the witch back down. All around town, all over the area, until they finally caught her trail heading back to her own house. Where they had started.
The problem was, you felt fine. You really didn’t think there was anything wrong with you. You wanted to get out there and help them, do some research, go to the damn grocery store, literally anything. But Sam and Dean had insisted that the safest thing for you to do was to stay behind. We don’t know what she did to you, Y/N. It could be dangerous for you to leave. It’s better if you stay here and do absolutely nothing. It made sense, to an extent, you just weren’t very happy about it. 
After a few hours and several more episodes of the most mind-numbing daytime talk shows you could imagine, you heard the sound of keys jingling and the motel door creeping open. In came Dean, wearing a strange expression on his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought it was fear.
“So? Ding dong, the witch is dead, I don’t have to blow my brains out?” You asked, more than ready to be done with the whole fiasco.
“Um.” Dean was avoiding eye contact. His hands slipped into his pocket and he sucked in a long, sharp breath.
“Dean.” 
“So, uh, maybe…” He slipped a hand across his mouth, stalling his words. “Look, you might have to stick around here for one more day. We uh, think she might be in the town over, but we kind of lost her trail.”
On the car ride back to the motel, Dean had prepared for you to react by yelling, screaming, hitting, anything to unleash the anger he knew was coming. In fact, that was why Sam had waited in the car- to give him a little time to break the news. But in front of Dean was something much, much scarier. Your jaw was clenched, your gaze was distant, and your eyes narrowed. You were just… sitting there. The silence lasted for what felt like ages. It was enough to send the man spiraling. Finally, you looked up.
“Dean?” 
“... Yes?”
“You better kill that witch tomorrow before I kill you.”
“Duly noted.”
Losing Sam had been just about the worst thing that could have ever happened to any of you. Watching him fall to his knees after Jake backstabbed him, Dean cradling him as the life finally slipped from his body… It brought you to tears just thinking about it. You had loved Sam like a little brother. But as much as it tore you up inside, his death had happened. So goes the life of a hunter. It was time to let Sam rest. 
Dean, however, had still refused to make peace with the loss of his brother. It had been several days and Sam’s lifeless body was still laying out on a mattress. Dean just couldn’t let go. You and Bobby had begged him to let you lay Sam to rest, but he simply wasn’t having it. Dean was angry, defensive, and hurt, far deeper than you had ever seen. After conferring privately with each other, you and Bobby figured maybe it would be best to give him a little time alone with Sam, for closure’s sake. 
So a day later when Sam Winchester, live and in the flesh, waltzed into the room to thank you and Bobby for patching up his wound without so much as a second thought, your heart dropped like a rock. The feeling that washed over you was worse than any grief you had felt this past week. Of course, it was amazing to have Sam back- it felt like a miracle. But miracles don’t just happen, especially not to Winchesters. And when you looked to Dean, he refused to meet your eyes.
Not wanting to alert Sam of the situation, you made an excuse to get Dean to follow you outside. You trudged as far as you could in silence, you not daring to look in his direction, until you knew you were out of earshot from the house. 
“What did you do, Dean?” Your back was still turned, and your voice was hardly a whisper. You were surprised Dean could hear you at all.
“Y/N-”
“What did you DO? How long did they give you?” The question ripped from your chest, but you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer. 
“A year.” 
One year. You dropped to the ground. The gravel dug into your skin, but all your senses were numbed with hurt. You wanted to ask what made him think he could do this- to Bobby, to Sammy, to you? But when you opened your mouth to speak, the ache that resonated through your chest stifled the words.
Dean slid down next to you in silence. He wrapped a single arm around you, and you leaned your head into him. All you could do was cry silent, heavy tears. For what felt like hours, there was nothing you could say. The pit in your stomach swirled back and forth from anger to despair to fear, culminating in a blinding nausea. You looked up at Dean, who simply stared straight ahead. There was a staggering coldness in his eyes that drove the knife further into your core.  
“God damn it Dean Winchester, I could just kill you myself, right now.” 
“You’ll have to get in line, sweetheart.” 
-
If you thought a few days without Sam had been bad, four whole months without Dean was your own personal hell. After Dean’s time was up, you couldn’t bear to be around anyone who reminded you of him. You hadn't spoken to Bobby or Sam or any other hunters- any other people, for that matter. You had practically dug yourself a grave, isolated from the world around you, lost and in the dark. 
This was the worst hurt you had ever felt in your life. Four months later and the wound in your heart was just as fresh as the day it arrived there. Every time it began to heal, one wrong move and it started aching, throbbing, bleeding again. But at this point, the pain was all you had left of Dean. So you let it bleed. 
The knock on the motel room door did nothing to stir you from your place in bed. It had been days, maybe a week, since you had risen for anything but your basic needs. You had called the front desk to extend your stay multiple times, running up a scammed credit card Dean had probably given to you at some point. There was nowhere else for you to go, so you laid down weary roots right here. 
The knock persisted but you remained still. It could’ve been the police, the president, or the pope and you couldn’t have cared any less. Go away. There was a clanging noise followed by the shifting of the lock’s mechanisms. Whoever it was, they were breaking into your room. A few months ago, you would’ve jumped into action, but all of your hunter self-preservation instincts were long gone. Whoever it was could come in and take whatever they wanted and shoot you dead in the process. Maybe they’d be doing you a favor. 
You rolled over in bed as the door creaked open, prepared to lay eyes on whoever was here to bring your demise. However, you were met with the one face that could have coaxed you out of the bed. The face you hadn’t seen in four months. The look in his eyes teemed with love and longing, which made your stomach churn. 
“This is a real sick joke.”
“No, Y/N, it’s-” 
For the first time since before Dean’s death, you snapped into hunter-mode, rising to your feet and snatching holy water and a knife from the bag under your bed in the process. It was a little slow, a little clumsy, and clearly a bit out of practice.
“You know, I was about to let whoever you were come right in and kill me. What reason do I have to stick around anymore? But this- this is just sick.” You laughed- your first laugh in months, and yet nothing was funny. 
“It’s me, Y/N, I-”
“No. I’m going to kill you now.” And you lunged, splashing holy water with one hand and thrusting the knife with the other. 
When Dean caught your hand before the knife could strike him, twisting your arm to defend himself from your lackluster attack, it took you longer than it should have to realize that the holy water hadn’t fazed him. Before it registered, you struggled against his grasp, but months of malnutrition and stagnant muscles had left you weak. You cried out as you fought, before fully dissolving into tears and dropping the knife in a mix of defeat and acceptance. Dean placed two heavy hands on your shoulders as if to ground you back in the moment.
“It’s me. I swear.” The beads of holy water that rolled off his face paralleled the tears that rolled off yours. Your hand reached up to wipe a droplet away- partially out of habit, partially to test that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear at your touch. He didn’t. Instead, both his hands planted on your face, matching your movement. 
“Oh, Dean.” That was the only way you could express it. Dean. Here, real, standing in front of you, and not a demon. Just pure Dean. 
“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, and it felt like home. He pulled you into a gentle hug, as if he harbored the same fear as you- that you may disappear beneath his very touch. But you were real, and so was he. You wouldn’t disappear, and neither would he. Dean was back, and because of that, you were back too.
“Good thing you didn’t kill me, right?” 
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yulin-pop · 10 months
Text
⤷ ✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲
order 84 | Scenario | Cater, Jade, Idia, Silver | gender neutral
❀ NOTE: PRETTY BOYS AHHHH, I wonder if all the characters are canonically attractive or are some characters like Ace considered mid?
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so…”
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➺ Cater Diamond
There’s a reason why Cater has so many followers on MagiCam. It’s because he has a cute face!! You’re not sure if he’s aware but he just has to be.
He does these tiny things like brushing the hair out of his face or slightly turning his head when he laughs. You didn’t really realize how pretty he was for a while. Sure, you got nervous just staring at him but now you can’t even look him in the eye.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so hot…”
He blinked for a moment. He was in the middle of drying his hair when you said that. All he could think is “Oh wow?” He noticed that you’ve been staring at him so intensely for the past few days— maybe weeks.
But you said it straight to his face? He thought he misheard you at first but you definitely said that.
“Wow, I didn’t know you fancied me that way MC!” Admittedly it did fluster him, he was flattering in the best way possible.
“Don’t get it twisted, it’s not in the way you’re thinking!”
You’re in denial.
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⊱Jade Leech
He has that certain look to him. It’s different than Floyd even though they’re identical twins. Maybe he’s not aware how MMMMMMM he is but he has to.
Just the way he looks at you can get you weak on the floor. His eyes… You noticed how his eyes squint ever so slightly when he’s focused. He’s calm under any circumstances yet so amusing in his own way. He’s the type of person you’d want to follow around just for the fun of it. And in his own way… he’s just so damn cute too.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so cute…”
He quickly turned his head to stare at you. He’s not sure what you mean or why. It was so out of the blue. You’ve been stalking him for a while. Of course he knew and allowed it and treated it as if it was normal.
“Pardon? In what way am I… cute?” He turned his head curiously.
“Cute!” You said again.
He wasn’t sure how to feel, the last time someone called him cute was when he was a little kid. Most people would think of Jade as alluring or handsome, cute is something he hasn’t heard in a while.
“If you’re talking about my appearance, you must think Floyd is cute as well.” He says while smiling at you.
“Eh I guess so. But he’s not as cute as you.”
He moved closer, “Tell me, what else do you think of me?”
You put your hands out in front of you, as if to say stop. “Why do you have to be so close..?!”
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*ੈ Idia Shroud
It’s already canon that Idia is very attractive from the character archives book and the ghost marriage event while being complete oblivious. He’s charming in his own way.
It’s hard to believe he’s so oblivious to his good looks. His smile is nerdy yet… attractive. His personality is rough but that’s what makes him so fun. Teasing someone like him is hilarious.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so hot.”
He immediately cranked his head your direction with a baffled expression. He shook his head and let out an irritated squeal.
“Wh-who says stuff like that to somebody’s face?! Online I get it but this is IRL! Why does someone like you even think that?”
He just gets really flustered and ends up rambling about how it doesn’t make sense. But when he looks back on it, it gives him an ego boost for a few minutes and then he’s embarrassed because— it makes him happy that you think of him that way.
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-ˋˏ Silver
Unintentional or not, Silver has been seeing you around a lot. He doesn’t think much of it since you’re in the same school so it’s not anything crazy but when he does see you, you’re always staring at him with this… funny expression.
Did he do something wrong? He tries to wave at you when he can but as soon as he turns his head you run away or start acting like you weren’t the one staring first.
But what were you suppose to do? Whenever you saw him, all your attention was diverted to his gentle yet sharp expression. His resting face was already so deadly, you couldn’t imagine if he were to smile.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so pretty…”
He froze with a puzzled look on his face. This was one of the times you actually started a conversation with him instead of staring and running away and you say something so flirtatious?
“Ah…” He blinked as you gazed into his eyes nervously, “Thank you I suppose.” But in what way was he suppose to take that?
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lisenberry · 5 months
Text
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Fluffy fluff.
CW: Pregnancy and child birth, language
Ch.2, Ch.3
You knew this day would come. Your due date wasn’t until the following week, but as of your last check-up, the midwife didn’t think you would make it that long.
But you were still surprised, and fought a rising panic, when you woke up around dawn to your first set of contractions. They weren’t terrible, at first, and you tried to remain calm as you showered, dressed in the comfortable outfit you’d set aside and checked your hospital bag for the thousandth time since you’d packed it weeks ago.
You’d read all of the books and watched all of the videos. It was a long process, and there was no rush to get to the hospital at this stage. It could be hours, days even before anything happened.
You were completely prepared and in control.
Until you stepped out into your hallway and straight into the wall of heat and muscle that was your neighbor.
“Oh, hi, John. I didn’t know you were back.” It’d been over a year since he’d left.
Why on earth he kept such an expensive apartment when he hardly ever lived in it, you couldn’t understand. He’d lived across the hall for five years, and had spent less than six months total sleeping in his bed.
And every so often, when it worked out, in yours.
“I got in late last night.” He paused, brows drawn together as he took in your obvious condition. “I was just heading to the gym.”
Jesus, he looked so good. Even in track shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. It pulled tightly across his chest as he rocked back on his heels. No doubt doing the quick math as to whether or not he could be responsible.
“I’m headed to have a baby,” you huffed out, as a sudden rush of spasming pain in your back nearly keeled you over.
That was a new feeling. It felt urgent. Shit, maybe you should’ve left sooner.
“Right now?” He lunged to grab your bags from your arms as you leaned against the wall for support.
“Not yours, don’t worry.” You laughed up at him, in an attempt to lighten the awkwardness of the exchange.
“Can I call someone for you?”
“I called a cab. It’s on its way.” The pressure started to ebb as you chanced a few steps towards the stairs.
“A cab? Absolutely not, I’ll drive you.”
“No, please. It’s fine. I have a plan. It’s all going to plan.”
But he’d taken possession of your hospital bag and your diaper bag, and had them loaded into the boot of his truck before you could protest.
“Is your boy—the father meeting you there?” Once he’d hoisted you into the passenger seat, and started the engine, he finally asked the question that had been left hanging between you.
“He’s not in the picture.”
Never was, you didn’t add. After you’d convinced yourself it would never work out between you and John, you'd had a brief fling with a visiting colleague from Berlin.
Imagine your surprise when you found out you were pregnant a month after he’d finished the project and gone home. To his wife, you found out later.
“You’re doing this alone?”
“It’s going to be fine. I told you, I have a plan.”
**********
“You don’t have to stay, really. I can do this on my own.” The contractions had become so intense, you couldn't control your voice enough to sound convincing.
His sympathetic smile as he finished filling out your intake paperwork was purely to placate. He had no intention of leaving. And you were grateful for his help.
The fact that he knew so much about you to only need to ask a few questions when completing the never-ending forms should’ve been alarming, not comforting.
Your blood type? Had you ever told him that?
“Aren’t you preregistered? How many times have you had to give them the same information?” He drew his eyebrows together in frustration as he realized the next packet was double sided.
“A fucking thousand.” You focused on your breathing and fought the waves of nausea that seemed to get worse along with the pain.
Weren’t there supposed to be breaks? You were told there would be breaks. You barely got a second to unclench your fists before another one started again.
You stood too quickly and steadied yourself with a hand to his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Concerned, he stood with you.
“I’m going to be sick.” You rushed, or rather waddled at your fastest pace, to the nearby family restroom and he trailed along close behind.
He stopped momentarily at the triage desk to slap the clipboard down and boom something about needing a room immediately, before following you in and holding your hair back as you wretched into the toilet.
“Shhh, I’ve got you.” He soothed, as he rubbed your back and passed you a wad of tissue.
“Please don’t leave me,” you croaked out, tears flowing at your helplessness and the sudden realization that this was only the beginning. That your life would never be the same.
“Careful what you wish for, darling.”
Once you were admitted to a room and set up with effective pain management, you finally relaxed enough to get your wits about you. And that involved, in no small part, frequently reminding the staff that, no, John was not your husband. He wasn’t even the father.
He wasn’t nearly as dedicated to correcting them as you were.
Things seemed to happen quickly, although you’d find out later that you labored well into the night, with a tireless, supporting hand held firmly in yours.
“You did so good, love.” When it was all over, he wiped a sweaty, wayward lock of hair from your cheek and planted a kiss on the top of your head. Seemingly as relieved as you were. As if he’d been holding his breath along side you.
You missed the look the nurse gave you as she placed the squirming infant on your chest, nor did you hear her mutter under her breath, “Not the father, my ass.”
“Welcome to the world, sweetheart,” you cooed, the pain quickly forgotten as you felt a tremendous sense of peace. Clarity.
“And welcome home, John.”
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doitforbangchan · 8 months
Text
All Bark and No Bite 05
We're finally getting into some drama in this one (Yes i know it took forever) please enjoy!
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter warnings: Suggestive, ABO, reader in heat, cursing, pet names, manipulation?
WC: 3k
MDNI 18+
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 
There was an intense warmth covering your back when you awoke the next morning. It was so comforting you almost lulled back to sleep. That is until you heard a raspy voice in your ear,
“Good morning, Omega.” 
Chan 
“Mmm” you grumbled, too caught up in his warmth. 
He smiled into your hair and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. You felt tingles all over your body at his affection. 
It was still hard to believe yesterday even happened. It feels like a fever dream, one you never wanted to wake from. You dug yourself further into the alpha's embrace, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 
You feel weird today. Still so, so happy, but there's an oddness you can’t quite place your finger on. All you know is that Chan being here is so comforting to you.  
“How did you sleep, baby?” He kept his voice low, he himself still riddled with sleep. 
You yawned, “Wonderful, Chan. I don’t think I have ever slept that good in my life.”
He hummed, “I’m so glad, omega. You needed your rest after all the stress you’ve been through the last few days.” He brushes the hair from you face and turns your body over to be underneath him now. “And you’ll need your energy for what's in store for you today.”  He smirked at seeing your face turn full red with blush. Did he mean we are gonna…
He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he spoke again “We’re going into town today to get you new clothes and toiletries.” He rolled off the bed. 
‘Oh, get your mind out of the gutter y/n.’ You scolded yourself mentally. Propping yourself up on your elbows you admired your alpha as he slipped his pj pants back over his hips. He must have taken them off to be more comfortable in the night. The thought of being in bed with him, when he has no clothes on, makes you wanna drool. Made you wish you knew, then maybe you could have done something about it. ‘Y/N what the fuck calm down’
Chan could feel your eyes on him, so he pulled up his bottoms extra slowly, being sure to give you a good look at his ass. He smirked when he turned around to you staring right at him. 
“Come on, Baby. You gotta get ready, I’m sure the boys are almost ready to head out.” He walked to the door, opening it to find your clothes from yesterday neatly folded and waiting. “Seungmin washed these for you last night, so you had something to wear today.” He set them on the bed for you. 
“Wow, that was so thoughtful of him!” You beamed. 
If only you knew how many times Seungmin pressed your dirty underwear to his nose, drinking in the pure scent of you. 
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Chan left you to get ready for the day while he went and did the same. After you fell asleep last night him and the pack texted about today's agenda. A few of them needed to go to town so it was the perfect time to take you shopping. Chan was confident no one in their small town would try anything with you, especially if they saw the pack around. 
There was a stack of bagels on the table waiting for you when you walked down the stairs about 15 minutes later. Jisung was seated there munching on his own when he noticed you and pulled out the chair next to him. “Hey my Baby! Wanna bagel?” 
“Good morning Jisung,” You giggled. It was literal music to his ears. “I would love one, thank you. “ 
You took a seat next to him as he plated one up for you, with a side of cream cheese and butter. 
“Are you ready to go shopping?” He asked with cheeks full of food. 
You took your own bite, “Yes! Are you coming with us today?” 
It was at that moment Chan entered the room, “Ah yes, actually Hannie is going to be the one to take you to get clothes. I have a few other matters to attend to in town.” He pressed a kiss to your head and lowered his voice when he sensed your anxiety “Alpha has some important things he needs to do, you’ll be a good omega and go shopping with Jisung, right?” He was pumping out pheromones to appease you and make you listen. It was certainly working. 
You nodded along with his words “Yes alpha.” 
He gave you a devilish grin “That's a good omega.” His words sent a deep shiver down your spine. 
Jisung watched your interaction with interest. So far you were everything he’d heard about omegas. Sweet, respectful, beautiful. You really were a good omega. It made him want to take care of you. 
“Who are we waiting on, Channie-hyung?” The beta asked after gulping down his bagel. 
Chan pulled out your chair for you when you were finished, “Seungmin and Felix, they are probably already in the car waiting for us. Bin and Hyun are already in town, they took Changbins car. Bin wanted to get some gym time and Hyunjin is teaching his weekly art class.” 
‘Aww Hyunjin really couldn’t get any more attractive’ You signed dreamily. 
“Are Minho and Jeongin not coming with us?” You asked Chan. 
“Nah Jeongin wasn’t feelin’ to well and Minho wants to get some house work in” You nodded. 
“Seungmin will yell at me if we make him wait any longer so let’s go!” Jisung bolted for the door and you both followed right behind him hand in hand. 
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The ride to town took about 20 minutes, but it felt like it went by much quicker. You were sat shotgun while Chan drove, his hand resting on your thigh the entire time. His touch calmed the nerves you felt, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You still can’t shake this odd feeling. 
The 3 betas sat in the back, Seungmin bullying Jisung about making him wait and Felix laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. 
“It’s not my fault Seung! Channie is the one who came down last, Baby and i were ready!” His eyes found yours when you looked back at him, “right baby?!” 
“Hmmmmm” you pretended to think, Chan giving you an amused side eye, Jisung pleading with you to agree. “I don’t remember.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “Oh wait , I remember now! It’s all Alphas fault!” You pointed at Chan and Jisung let out a cheer. 
Seungmin was not as amused, “Don’t cover for him y/n, he’s always the late one.” 
A loud “Hey!” then a thumping sound was barely heard over all the laughter in the car. 
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In town Chan had Jisung change spots with him to take you to the boutique, while Chan and the other two boys attended to their own business. Your alpha gave you a deep kiss before departing, his smirk on display at your flustered state. 
You and Jisung arrived a few minutes later at this small but very fashionable clothing store. 
The door chimed as you opened it, a voice from behind a counter calling to you “Be right with you dearies!”
Jisung held onto your hand as you walked a little further in. 
‘Wow there are so many options here!’ you thought, mouth wide open at the gorgeous selections. 
“What can I help you -“ an older woman approached but paused at the sight of you. 
You gave her a polite wave “Hello. I need some new
clothes please.” 
She was an old beta woman, probably around late 60s, with graying hair and a green boho dress. She was a very pretty woman. 
“Eun, this is y/n.” The woman only then seemed to notice Jisung with you. “She’s Chans mate.” 
That seemed to snap her out of her daze, a bright smile gracing her features, “That sly dog went and got himself an omega huh? And a gorgeous one at that!” She approached you and grabbed your face, getting a good look at you. The blush returned to your face and you made eyes at Jisung next to you. 
Jisung laughed and released your hand pulling you back slightly. “ Yes Eun, she’s new in our pack and needs a whole new wardrobe!” 
The elder beta clapped her hands excitedly. “You’ve come to the right place then! I’ve got quite the collection for you to try my dear.” She disappeared into the back once again. 
Jisung put both hands on your shoulders, giving them a rub to calm you. 
“Don’t mind Eun, Baby. She’s a little eccentric. She’s an old friend Chans family. Watched him and his family grow up, so she’s a little excited.” Ah that makes sense. 
Eun came rushing out with her arms full of clothes. She set them on a moving rack before shuffling it over to the fitting room in the corner. “I picked out a few things that I think you’ll love!” 
She grabbed your hand and hurried you to the fitting room, chucking a few outfits into the room with you, then taking a seat outside with Jisung, both waiting for you to model all the clothes for them. 
It took about 2 hours before you decided you had enough to last a lifetime. Actually you were done after picking one outfit, but Jisung just waved a credit card at you and told you to keep shopping. That he knew if you didn’t buy a lot then Chan would be mad at both of you. That made it easier to pick out stuff, knowing your alpha would be pleased. 
It was when you were checking out with Eun that you started to feel the ache in your lower belly. And the fire in your veins. You clutched your stomach with one arm, the other holding onto Jisung so you didn’t collapse. 
When Jisung went to ask you what was wrong, the most incredible scent he had ever smelled wafted out of you. His pupils were blown and his body went rigid. 
He used both hands to ground you and keep you from falling. “y/n.. w-what is happening?” He managed to get out. 
“She’s going into heat! You have to get her home now!” Eun had seen this before, she grew up with omegas. 
“Me?! Shouldn’t we go pick up Channie-hyung first?” The boy asked in pure panic. 
“No you need to take her straight home there is no time, don’t forget you're in a town with other alphas that can smell her just as well as you can.” 
That seemed to snap him out of it, hauling you up and wrapping his arms around you. 
“Eun, can you call Chan for me please? Just tell him I'm taking her straight home.”
Eun opened the door and helped Jisung load you into the car. “Will do! I’ll have someone fetch these clothes for her later. Be safe.” She shut you in and watched you drive off. 
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Chan had paid a visit to the police station to speak with the sheriff while you were out shopping. Now was the perfect time to see what could be done about your missing persons status. 
He was assured by the sheriff that if you made a report that you're not missing, they can send the information over to the original sector and have you filed as not missing and end the investigation. Plus your current location would legally remain anonymous. 
Chan felt relieved by that, one less thing to worry about. That is, he was feeling relief until he received a very panicked call from Eun. 
“You need to get home right now Christopher!” She hollered as he answered the phone. 
He winced at her loud voice, “Ah, Eun what's going on?” 
“Your omega is in heat, that’s what the fuck is going on. She started right in the middle of checking out! Had to leave all the bags here!” 
Chan felt his heart stop and gut wrench. His omega was in heat . “Where is she now?”
“Han took her home, I told him not to stop for you and go straight there to avoid any trouble.” 
 “Thanks for letting me know. I gotta make a call.” With that he hung up on her. He would apologize later. First he had to get a ride home. 
The line rang a few times before Changbins voice answered, sounding out of breath. 
“What’s up bro? Finally wanna come join me in a workout?” His voice was teasing. 
“Changbin” Chans voice was hard, Alpha mode activated. “I need you to come get me from the police department right now. It’s y/n, she's in heat.” 
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Your senses were on overload. You could smell everything. Every trace of the boy’s previously in the car, every trace of Chan. And you could especially smell Jisung. Your hands kept finding his shirt, trying to tug him closer as he drove but he (regretfully) had to keep pushing you away. You’re gonna be the death of me he had said to you when the tugging began. 
You hadn’t had a heat in years, not since you presented as an omega for the first time. After that you had been on high quality suppressants, causing you to not have a heat while taking them. That must be why this one came on so quickly. It had been days since you’ve taken any. Being in a house full of men, with your alpha, your body is going into overdrive. It was so bad, you felt as though you had no control over your body or urges. It was acting on its own at this point.  It was making you delirious and feral.
Jisung sped as quickly as possible, while still keeping you safe, to get home. He made it there in record time, tires screeching to a stop outside the door. Even with you grabbing at him he managed to slip out of the driver's seat, bolting around the vehicle to open your door and gently guide you out. When his hands made contact with the skin on your waist when you shirt rode up, you let out a whimpering moan. You would be humiliated about that later. 
Jisung felt his boner grow in his pants. 
‘what the fuck what the fuck’ He was screaming internally, wanting to just take you there on the ground outside. He knew he couldn’t do that though. You were Chans first and foremost. His alpha. He would never disrespect him or you that way. 
“Come on my baby, we gotta get you to your room.” At the mention of him taking you to your room you found your footing and let him lead you inside. 
Stepping through the threshold the first thing you could sense was an alpha. 
Jeongin made his way into the entry to see what the commotion was about , when he stopped right in his tracks. He didn’t know what was happening to him but he raced to your side. 
“No no no no!” Jisung saw the young alpha coming at you and tried to stop him. “Jeongin wait, don’t!” 
He didn’t hear a word though, pushing Jisung off of you and cornering you into the wall beside him. 
At the presence of the alpha in front of you, you let out a long whine, hands reaching out and grasping his shirt. 
Jeongin presses his nose into the gland on your neck where your aroma was emanating from the heaviest. 
“Innie! You have to stop!!” Jisung yelled in his panic, but was only answered by the younger man’s deep growl. 
“Omega….” Jeongin inhaled you, wanting to devour you whole. Never in his life had he wanted something more. He could almost taste you on his tongue.
“Jeongin!” Jisung screamed out again, “You have to st-“ 
“Stop!” Came a loud bellow, then strong hands ripped Jeongin from your body, tossing him to Changbin. 
It was Chan. It was your Alpha. 
Tears leaked from you at the sight of him. He was furious, not at you, but at the situation. At the sight of your dizzy appearance he hoisted you over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. Just in time for Minho to come running from his room upstairs. 
“What the fuck is going on?” He demanded, but one look at the situation told him all he needed to know. 
Chan yelled back to Minho “Help changbin get Jeongin out of here! In fact all of you need to stay out for a few days! We can’t have any repeats of what just happened.” 
Minho nodded in agreement, “You're right. I'll make sure everyone stays away.”  
Changbin was trying to force the younger alpha outside, into the fresh air away from you. It took all his will power to resist you himself, so it was a real struggle to try and reel in Jeongin. Changbin was lucky he had the self control he had, or he would be just like Jeongin. That's not to say it was easy for the alpha, no no, his body was aching for a taste of you.
Minho was herding them both along, Jisung following behind. “Come on guys, it’s alright. Let’s just get out of here and clear our minds huh?” He won’t deny he was affected by you as well. The tastiest thing he had ever experienced. It pissed him off that this ordeal was even happening, though. ‘I knew she would cause fucking problems’ he thought bitterly. Being the ever so responsible one, Min loaded everyone in the van and went to fetch the other remaining members. Time to find a place to crash for a few days. This blows.
A/N; Finallllyyy a little bit of drama! As always, I would love to hear what yall think!
Please do not copy or steal my writing and content! Reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated tho!
doitforbangchan©
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815 notes · View notes
solar-wing · 6 months
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⚣ Disobey 😠
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⚣😠 A/N → i... don't ask. just..don't. I'm so ashamed. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Rough Anal | Orgasm Denial | Controlling Behavior | Dom/Sub Vibes |
⚣😠 Summary → Conner has had enough of Y/N disobeying him.
⚣😠 Words → 1.3K
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 😠
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"a-ah, fuck ... ! Please let me cum!"
Conner pressed the young mage harder against the wall, laying another hard smack on his bottom while thrusting in and out of his quivering hole. He also held a tight grip on the boy's throbbing and red cock, squeezing at the base whenever he could tell the boy was about to cum.
The Kryptonian grunted in his ear while increasing the intensity of his thrusts, "Don't tell me what to do. I'm not ready for you to cum yet, got it? You're going to learn how to follow orders," He delivered an extra hard push with that sentence while squeezing down again on the poor boy's whimpering dick, pulling a needy whine from him.
Earlier that day, Batman briefed the team on a mission where they were to recover a powerful magical relic from some ancient ruins before a group of cultists found it and delivered it to their leader. When they arrived, the group split off into pairs to find the relic faster, Superboy ordered Y/N to come with him, even though some felt it'd be better if he and Zatanna went together.
Superboy instructed the young mage to stay close to him at all times and not wander off, sensing the place would have various booby traps. As they were looking through the ruins, Y/N got curious and wandered off to look at some interesting-looking markings on the walls, accidentally activating the magical defenses.
Thankfully, the spell to nullify it was simple enough. But it didn't make the Kryptonian any less angry with him.
Then, when they eventually ran into the cultists who had found the relic, Superboy instructed Y/N to run and grab help while he held them off. Of course, that wasn't the smartest idea since he was more vulnerable to magic attacks than the mage.
Y/N didn't listen though and had engaged the cultists himself, Superboy's anger doubling at the mage's disobedience. They were able to hold them off long enough for the rest of the team to show up and fight together.
Y/N managed to steal the relic back from the cult and the team successfully defeated them with only a few of the cultists getting away. Everyone congratulated the young mage for his quick thinking, but Superboy was still furious with him.
When they returned to the Cave, Conner roughly pulled the boy aside to his room before slamming and locking the door, proceeding to scold the young mage. The Kryptonian yelled at him for not listening to him and putting himself in danger, calling the boy reckless and irresponsible.
Y/N didn't take well to that and argued back, defending himself, turning it into a full-blown argument until the two were in each other's faces.
"You need to learn some fucking respect. You may be strong, but you're still new. I've been a part of this team from the start and have more experience than you, so you need to learn to listen to me." Conner growled, getting in the boy's face.
"I'm not a child! I can take care of myself, thank you very much. And last I checked, you aren't the leader of this team, Kaldur is, so back off. I don't have to listen to you and I don't need you to protect me." Y/N growled back, before shoving his way past the Kryptonian towards the door.
He didn't make it far though before Conner grabbed his arm and yanked him back, pinning him to the bed, "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm leaving, I don't need to deal with this right now," Y/N said, struggling against the Kryptonian's hold.
Conner growled in his ear, "You're not going anywhere. I'm not done with you yet."
"Oh, fuck you, Superboy." Y/N snapped, glaring daggers at the Kryptonian.
Conner glared back before suddenly crushing his lips against Y/N's, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Y/N struggled and fought against the Kryptonian's hold, but couldn't break free from his grip. Conner pulled away and smirked at the mage, "You're going to learn how to listen to me, whether you like it or not."
That's how Y/N found himself currently pinned against the wall, his ass in the air with the Kryptonian's cock thrusting into him.
Conner continued to slam his hips forward, making sure to graze over the young hero's prostate every time. The squelching of his wet cock, the loud slapping of their skin, and the grunting from both of them filled the room.
The young hero could only take the pounding, his legs were starting to feel like jelly and he was sure he would've fallen by now if the Kryptonian wasn't holding him up.
"please ... I’ll beg for it, do whatever you want for it ... please ... " Y/N cried out, tears starting to form in his eyes.
Conner smirked and leaned forward, "I'm not ready for you to cum just yet."
"Please! I've learned my lesson, I promise! I'll do anything, please just let me cum!" Y/N begged, his voice cracking.
"Anything, huh? I don't believe you" Conner said, his hips not faltering in their thrusts.
"Please, I promise! I'll do whatever you ask, I'll listen to your every command, I'll never go against your word, just please let me cum!" Y/N sobbed, his cock was so hard and red, he needed release.
"Fine, but you're going to cum untouched, and you're going to take all of my cum inside you, got it?" Conner growled in the boy's ear, releasing the boy's cock and placing both hands under his ass, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
"I'm going to fill you up so much, you'll be leaking my cum for days. And if you ever disobey me again, I'll punish you even harder, understand?" Conner said, his tone stern and threatening., pressing their fronts together while burying his face into the smaller male's neck, his teeth scraping his skin.
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I promise to be good from now on!" Y/N moaned, feeling the Kryptonian's thrusts become more powerful and the heat inside him build.
"Fuck, you're such a good boy for me, aren't you? My perfect little boy," Conner praised, licking a stripe up the boy's neck, "I'm so close, I'm going to fill you up so much, gonna fill you to the brim..."
"Please, please, please..." Y/N pleaded, his breath ragged and short as his cock dripped pre-cum, he was so close.
Conner suddenly grabbed his cock, squeezing it again, pushing down the boy's release.
"AH a-ah, fuck ...no, please !" The boy cried out from the overstimulating pain, punching his fists against the Kryptonian's sweaty back.
Conner chuckled darkly, his hand moving to stroke the boy's throbbing cock, speeding up his thrusts, hitting his prostate dead-on every time.
"Cum for me, baby."
The young hero screamed out, his body spasming as his release finally hit him, his cock spurting thick white ropes of cum all over the Kryptonian's hand and abs. Conner grunted as he continued his relentless thrusting, his balls tightening as his release came crashing down.
With one final thrust, the Kryptonian buried his cock deep inside the boy, shooting thick loads of hot cum inside him.
The two boys panted heavily, their bodies glistening with sweat as they tried to catch their breaths. Conner leaned up, using one hand to tilt the boy's head up before placing a final rough kiss against his lips.
"Hopefully this teaches you a lesson. Don't ever disobey me again." Conner said, pulling his cock out, his cum leaking out of the boy's hole and down his thighs.
Y/N whimpered from the emptiness, slowly letting his legs down to the ground before they were roughly pulled back up.
"Where do you think you're going? We're not done here, not by a long shot. You're staying here and we're going to have some more fun," Conner growled in the boy's ear, pulling his cum-covered hand up to his lips, "Now clean my hand, you made quite a mess."
Y/N obeyed, his tongue running across the Kryptonian's hand, licking off all the cum.
"Good boy. Now, on your knees."
The young hero knew he was in for a long night.
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☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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wokelander · 2 months
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(TELL ME I’M YOUR) NATIONAL ANTHEM !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. president!leon, intern!reader, drug mentions, affair, cheating, smut, p in v sex, oral, blowjob, just general presidential gross behaviour
note. commission for @slovakbabe :33 sorry this is so late.. kept changing it ugh! ignore any typos / mistakes :3 feedback / rbs appreciated. inaccurate bc i’m british 💔 some details r taken completely from lewinsky-clinton case! like umm the dress duh.. and some of the trial talk! also the part w claire um! sorry the pov keeps switching oh my gosh!!! hope u like this and I hope it was worth the wait!!! tried to compress the plot to make it fit into the word limit so if it sounds jumpy excuse me… readers personality changed ack..
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God bless America, and God fucking bless nepotism.
You don’t know a thing about environmental quality, your carbon footprint is far bigger than your So Kates and it’s not something you’ve ever been concerned about. Dad was an advisor to whoever was in office twenty years ago and his last name takes you further than your English degree ever has.
The lady in charge of interviews tells you that you have a ‘good face’ and that must mean something. When you get the call a few weeks later you’re not surprised. Now your parents have something to gush over at soirées and afternoon tea parties - their girl is interning at the White House.
“He’s a liar, a total liar, you know, I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing, he reads off a script twenty-four-seven.” Claire can’t even pretend to be happy, she struggles to look at you when you drop the news over brunch.
“I mean he’s the President, Claire, lying is like his job,” you say to her, checking out your pores in your compact mirror, “and he’s hot, have you seen him in that Vogue photoshoot? The nineties one?”
“Yeah.” Her bottom lip juts out. “He’s also a sex pest, they just put whoever's got the most statutory rape allegations against them in office, the people’s vote doesn’t even count.”
“Jesus, he’s not that bad, Claire.” You stand up, dusting the crumbs off your lap and leaving a tip on the table.
“He knows Epstein.” Claire takes a moment to stand, but she follows when you start to walk away.
“Yeah, but not that Epstein, Claire.” In all honesty, you don’t know much about President Kennedy other than his sexual escapades, you know a lot about those. You know about his affair with Ashley ‘America’s Sweetheart’ Graham, and you know what she was wearing when they got caught by the media.
Graff earrings that weighed 52.55 carats each, you wonder how many children died digging out those white diamonds, a yellow cap-sleeve dress and white closed-toe pumps, four inches tall. She towered over him in the photos the same way his wife does.
“How many Epstein's are there?” She’s so intense, you feel the heat of her anger when your arm brushes hers.
“A lot, and not all of them are Jeffrey’s.” You turn to face her, giving her a smile in hopes of settling her down. “Now, I’m going to powder my nose in the ladies’ room and you’re going to wait out here, and when I come back you’ll be calm, ‘kay?”
When you return she’s not calm, and she’s not calm for the following week, but she wishes you good luck over the phone on Monday morning and it’s because Claire could never stay mad at a pretty girl.
You put on your best (read: shortest) dress, within regulations of course, you’re not looking to get fired on your first day, but you are looking to turn a certain head.
Your peers are dressed comfortably, to say the least, well, as comfortable as business wear can be.
Poor sartorial taste is always an indicator of wealth. The girl to your left might be a Harvard graduate, but if that tacky brooch says anything it’s that she came from a blue-collar neighbourhood. Her bouclé jacket is obviously thrifted and flats? Seriously? Ballet pumps in the White House must be a dress code violation.
The rumpled shirt of the boy directly in your eye line has got to be the biggest fashion faux pas you’ve seen like ever—Well, your sister wore white after Labour Day, and a chunky statement necklace a decade too late.
Smarts can only take you so far, but looks are everything. The clean-cut elegance of a Louboutin, a timeless red lip, and a nice ass in a tight skirt. Oh, you’ll be going places for sure.
(The second floor of the White House perhaps.)
Your superior, Helena, gets it. She’s tall and that always helps. Immaculately dressed in tailored pinstripe trousers, they’re not quite ankle-swingers, but short enough to show off her sleek boots.
Man, you should’ve gone to fashion school.
When everyone stands, smoothing the creases in their clothes, girls using their thumbs to clean the lipstick from the corners of their mouths - you’re a beat late, too many eyesores taking up the space in your head.
But there’s nothing for you to fix, you already look perfect, so you stand pretty while they tremble in ill-fitting dresses.
The camera adds ten pounds, President Kennedy is all the more handsome in the flesh. That face says Italian love affair, but you know that dick is American as apple pie.
His wife is close by his side, their arms looped in a show of sanitised intimacy. Sophistication is dead and gone, pillbox hats and pearls are out, Ada Wong is more seedy sex dungeon worker than Jackie O. It’s admirable really, you’ve got to have guts to dress like the mistress.
President Kennedy makes his way down the line of interns, and then, he pauses in front of you, close enough to smell his cologne. His eyes follow the clean lines of your outfit, and then he grips your hand too tight.
It’s when you’re mingling an hour later after your introductory session, Helena approaches you in her usual composed manner, and very simply says, “Be careful around him.”
“Who?” You ask though you know exactly who she means.
“Leon.” The informality takes you off guard, her brows furrow like his name is sour on her tongue.
“Oh.” You pretend to take this in, but you’ll suck dick to break the glass ceiling, you’d risk the Kennedy curse for that man. “I mean, I’ll try to be careful, but I have to be in his good books.”
Helena’s lips form a thin line. “Trying isn’t good enough.”
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“Big day ahead of you.” Ada sits on the end of the bed, fully clothed to the detriment of Leon’s dick. A non-existent sex life is a side effect of marriage he hopes scientists are working on daily to find a cure for.
“Isn't every day a big day?” If it’s not constant meetings and putting false hope in the heart of every American, it’s brunch with world leaders and dinner with the Pope where cocaine is served under a cloche.
“Hm.” She places her teacup down, gliding towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders. “Nice tie.”
“I know,” Leon says absentmindedly, scraping the powder beneath his nails out, a makeshift French manicure, “It’s Armani.”
“And not custom-made?” She pinches his cheek, gentle in the way only a paring knife could be. Leaves a wound that won’t ache until he notices it in the mirror later. “You’re slacking, Mr. President.
“And you’re exasperating, Ada.”
“Wow.” Ada’s brows shoot up into her hairline. “That’s a big word.”
“Yeah, I’ve been learning.” Leon sniffs as she looks him over with practised attraction.
“Aw, just so you can be mean to me?”
“You know it, beautiful.”
The only good thing about today is the interns. Fresh meat. Leon’s a cat person, he likes cougars and sex kittens, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty to pick from. Older women are easy to please and younger ones are easy to charm, the moment he steps into that room, getting his dick wet is the main priority.
Hunnigan doesn’t have to know that he doesn’t really care about where these girls graduated from. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton. They’ve all got pussies and that’s what matters.
Leon makes his way down the line like it’s a pageant show.
Too short, too shy, too tall, too thin, too fat, straight up ugly.
And then there’s you. Put together, smiling at him all coy like you want him. Girls like Ashley don’t ask for it, they beg for it—You look like you know what you’re here for, you don’t need to beg ‘cause he likes you already.
Leon gets the chance to talk to you an hour later, Helena shoulders past him as he approaches, Hunnigan a few steps behind him. He hopes Helena didn’t say anything in bad taste. In her words, Leon is a ‘Napoleonic little fuck’ and if it wasn’t for the pay, she’d want nothing to do with him. She’s not his biggest fan, so he prays she hasn’t fucked it up for him before he even got a chance.
“So, how old are you?” Leon asks brashly, his mouth twitches upwards when you tilt your head to the side and challenge him with your gaze alone.
“I’m legal if that’s what you’re after, Mr. President.” You could tie his balls together like cherry knots with a sharp tongue like that.
“How legal?” Fucking legal? Drinking legal? Voting legal?
“Very legal, Mr. President, I wouldn’t get you into any trouble or anything.” Your smile is cheeky, and your eyes glint, you’re trouble from head to toe.
“I don’t need you to get me in trouble.” Leon smiles back at you, that skirt is so fucking tight, he wonders if he could get you out of it.
“Mr. President,” Hunnigan warns, her wooden face seems to come to life, a small frown gracing her lips.
“Don’t be jealous, baby, you know I love you and only you.” Leon takes her hand, kissing her fingers until she snatches it back. He catches you laughing into your palm.
See? Easy to charm.
“Mr. President.” His final warning.
“I’m joking.” Leon’s face softens when you slip past her into the crowd, hates to see you go, loves to watch you walk away.
“You need to work on your jokes, Mr. President.” Ada grabs his shoulder from behind and he’s chilled to his core. Jesus. She’s so fucking scary sometimes. “I think you’re having a midlife crisis, they’re getting younger by the second, we should get you a shrink, Leon.”
“Yeah, okay, Ada, you can stop trying to pimp me out.” He’s eye level with her today. She’s opted for a shorter pair of heels, less threatening.
“Pimp you out?” She scoffs, “I just don’t want to be bailing you out, Leon.”
“Don’t need to be bailed out.” Leon shrugs. “I’m the President.”
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Being an intern, Helena tells you and the rest of your peers, it means you won’t get to brush shoulders with the President as much as you probably hoped. He doesn’t visit often. He’s busy—
But he comes every day like the sun.
He pretends to be interested in the environment, whatever it is that you’re meant to be doing, but Leon might be the biggest private jet offender yet.
You notice the agitation that crosses Helena’s face anytime he intrudes, it passes a moment later, back to her usual impassivity by the time he sticks his nose in your business.
“Merely interested,” Mr. President claims like he wasn’t looking down your shirt. “Just passing by,” he says when he places a hand on your shoulder and lets it linger.
He never goes further, and it drives you crazy. He’s the fucking President, he could get away with groping you in public, he could make you get on your knees right now and he’s holding back.
Being the President and all, you suppose he's immune to flattery, and that’s alright. You’re immune to diamonds and fast cars and designer dresses. Been there, done that. You won’t be swayed so easily, you don’t want his money, you want his dick and a little piece of his heart, a mention in his will, the key to the Kennedy estate.
You want to go down in history, any publicity is good publicity, you live and die by that. Weighing up the options, you decide playing hard to get is what might work best—He’s already got everything, and he already wants you, you know he does, but you’re going to take that away from him.
No more peeking down your blouse, no more wandering hands and no more flirting. You’re cutting him off, cold turkey. Like, yeah, hypothetically President Kennedy could get any girl he wanted, but he most certainly won’t be getting you, and every man wants what he can’t get.
By the end of the week, he’ll want to break you in like a pair of new dress shoes, he’ll be eating out the palm of your hand, and maybe your pussy from the back.
It works like a charm.
“You’re avoiding me,” Mr. Kennedy says, free of his security detail as he corners you in the hall, his nose brushing yours, eyes wide and desperate—It’s only been a week.
“What makes you think that, Mr. President?” You feign disbelief, placing a dainty hand over your heart. His eyes catch the light like a cats, a crescent of white eclipsing the blue.
“Leon,” he corrects, the usual smarmy smile wiped off his face, “say it.” His hand cups the underside of your chin, tilting it upwards.
You pretend to falter, gazing over his shoulder with glassy eyes like uttering his name is too much for a mere intern like you. It’s not, it’s really not.
“Leon…” You repeat back to him slowly, like you’re new to this planet and you’ve never heard the name outside of his utterance.
Slowly, Leon draws back, hands dropping to his side as he looks down at his shiny shoes. “Don’t… Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“All shy, it don’t suit you.”
“Oh.” So he knows what you were doing. Maybe you’re not as smart as you thought.
His hands ghost over your body, and he asks if you’ll meet him after dark. You’re an opportunist, so you accept and find yourself doing overtime in the Oval Office.
He’s gentler than you expect, cradling your face as he rocks his hips into you. You don’t kiss on the first date, but you’ve never been opposed to some fun. Leon’s head drops to rest on your shoulder, you wonder while you pass a hand over his hair if the Barbie blond is natural or a personal choice.
This is terribly boring, you thought there’d be something exciting about fucking in the Oval Office, but you find yourself more interested in the interior design. Could use a column or two, ionic or Doric or whatever.
Oh gosh is that a photo of his mom—And his wife is a given, oh and Ashley Graham is there too, is that even allowed? He doesn’t have kids, thank god.
Leon finishes on your stomach, then he twists to face the closed golden drapes - a sight you’ve only ever seen on the silver screen. Like clockwork, he plucks the mini flag from his desk and uses it like a handkerchief, wiping his cum from your stomach.
Planting his seed in American soil, you guess.
His body trembles with aftershocks in your hold, and he offers a weary smile. “Was it… Was it good?” Leon’s eyes shift, he can’t hold your gaze as he tucks his limp dick into his slacks.
Awaiting your answer, he toys with the buttons on his shirt like a child looking for comfort in what they’re used to, that nervous look is out of place on his face.
“Of course it was good,” you lie, smoothing down your skirt, “you’re the President.” You don’t step into your heels yet, instead letting him revel in the inch or so he has on you, kissing his protruding collarbone.
That brings him to his senses, Leon’s chest puffs as he nods like it’s all coming back to him, his arrogance. “Right, yeah, I am.”
Before you leave, Leon takes your wrist in his hand, his nails look manicured. He’s got the nose for cocaine so you don’t put it past him. “Same time tomorrow?”
You smile at him sweetly. “Of course.”
Duh. You haven’t got a legacy out of him yet, nobody knows your name outside of your social circle and that’s not enough. Nice cars, colonial mansions—It’s not enough, you don’t need what you already have. When disposable income is all you know, when money grows in your backyard, it’s nothing about that. You won’t be done until you’ve run him into the ground.
Sure, you’re two yachts and a beach house in Miami rich, but you’re not the First Lady. You could boss around a maid or two, get a server fired when you go out to eat, but you don’t have world leaders rolling out red carpets for you to walk on when you land.
Honestly, if you weren’t so concerned with your figure, you’d think about poking a couple holes in the rubber—If that dick even works right.
A week later, you have him kissing your ankles while they dangle over his shoulders, the wet sound of his balls slapping your ass and strained moans as he tries to keep it down filling your ears.
Again, nothing to write home about, his tip barely manages to knock your cervix as he fucks into you with all he’s got, panting into your mouth while you kiss him. You gave up on faking it a couple of days in, you’ve a very good liar, but not a great actor.
You find that your disinterest gets him going, he sees it as a challenge, Leon takes pride in making you do as little as sigh when he thumbs your clit with deft fingers.
“Fuck, wait, I’m gonna—“ His eyes are lidded, staring at you expectantly while his hips stutter, dick pulsing inside of your slick cunt, his tip is wetter than you are. “Can I?”
“Yeah, sure.” You give him the green light and he spills inside of you, it trickles out, dribbling back down his shaft and leaving a residue on the underside of your ass. “I didn’t finish,” you tell him, unsticking your thighs from the glossy wood so you can shift back and spread your legs wide.
Slowly but surely, Leon gets the hint, slightly flustered by how straightforward you’re being. His thumbs part your pussy lips, tongue licking up the centre of your cunt, eating his cum out of your wet hole. You place a hand on the back of his head, pushing him into you, his nose bumps your clit and you gasp.
Oh god, why is his nose more talented than he is? You feel Leon’s fingers push into you, two to keep you happy, curling upwards as his lips latch onto your clit. You cum on his tongue, toes curling in your shoes, it’s pleasant and nothing more, like sun-warmed water lapping at your toes.
Leon moves to kiss you, his pink lips wet with your pussy, you want him to go home and kiss his wife with that mouth, you want him to wear your scent in place of his cologne. Your pussy is super prestigious, costs way more than Tom Ford.
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Foxes are nifty little things - sometimes they come in the form of young girls with nice asses.
You’re pissing him off.
Nice car, wow, Mr. President! My dad has one parked in the garage, but we haven’t used it in a while. It's too loud, disturbs the neighbours. Oh, Leon, you shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have, I don’t wear yellow diamonds, haven’t you heard of colour theory? They so don’t suit my undertones. Wow, Mr. Kennedy! You were in an episode of Friends once thirty years ago? Oh, gosh, you played Joey’s distant Italian cousin? That’s so crazy, my mom and Jennifer Aniston work out together every Tuesday!
Nothing’s enough, and that’s never been a problem for Leon. Even girls who have everything, Ashley Graham to name one, swoon over classic cars and ball gowns and him. They go crazy over him, but you’re using him as a stepping stool for something else. What else? What more could you want?
Leon might be fucking stupid when it comes to politics, he doesn’t know what to say without prompts, he doesn’t know shit about Guam or Penamstan or much at all—But he’s not dumb, you’re using him, and he’s letting you use him. Walking all over him in six-inch pumps, leaving your lipstick on his collar like you own him, sucking his dick so damn good he can't get rid of you.
You’re like a bed bug. A really hot bed bug. You’re also young, but his cock doesn’t care for morals or ethics and it never really has. Dick wants what the dick wants.
He isn’t going to be stupid this time—You don't want to be impressed so Leon won’t waste time buying you jewellery you consider old fashion, no need to take you for spins in vintage cars, you just want him. He gets it - everyone likes him.
“You’ve never taken me home,” you tell him one night, the white hotel sheets draped over your naked body, angel wings or a shrouded corpse, he's not quite sure.
“There’s nothing interesting at home.” Leon’s bottom lip juts out, preening when you scratch under his chin.
“Doesn’t have to be interesting.” You’re buttering him up with kisses. “You like me, right, Leon?”
“I guess so.” He grunts when you give him a swift elbow in the gut. “I’m kidding, of course I like you.”
“Then why don’t you want to take me home?” Your greed is so violent it grows teeth, he feels your nails digging into his skin.
He gives you one look. “You should know your place.” In my life, at work. An intern and a mistress.
You’re not one to back down. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” Leon says quickly, fuck, man, you’re scary. Ada isn’t scary, she’s just a bitch, in a hot way—You’re, like, mean. You boss him around and for some reason, he listens. Jesus Christ, isn’t the power imbalance meant to go the other way around?
“I want to come home with you,” you beg, but it’s not really begging, it's an instruction, “I want to sleep in your bed, don’t you like me?”
“I do like you, baby,” he insists, sighing softly when you take your hands off of him, he still feels the sting of your nails on his back, “I like you a lot, you think I treat anyone else like this?”
“Yeah, I bet you do this to every girl.” When it’s just the two of you, when he gets you bare like this, your age shows.
“Not true,” he scoffs.
(Obviously, that’s true.)
“Okay, so then if I’m sooo special, you should take me home.” God, you’re gonna ask him to dump his wife next. This is the problem with rich kids, they’re as entitled as he is. “It’s not like you have kids.”
Leon’s carelessness is lined with caution. He’ll take a mistress or two, but he won’t take that home. That’s something you do outside of the marriage bed. But you’re a kid, you wouldn’t know that, this is probably the first time you’ve fucked a married man, let alone the President.
“It doesn’t work like that, baby,” he tries carefully, pinching your cheek, “you’re a smart girl, you should know better.”
“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m not a kid.” It’s spoken like an accusation, his fingers lose all dexterity when you push him away.
“I know, baby, but you’re being a little selfish right now, you know that?” Comforting you is a balancing act, he flicks through a Rolodex of tactics in his head. He lands on making you feel small. Guilt-tripping doesn’t work on girls who are spoiled rotten, begging just makes you feel like the shit. “It’s not just about you here, is it?”
When you don’t answer, he continues. “If I took you home, I’d put everything at stake, I know you know that.” Leon pulls you apart like orange segments while you turn his mind into your personal playground—It’s a fair trade.
You turn over quietly and he knows he’s won.
It goes on for a month, and then two, and then three and then more—Leon finds himself wondering when it’s time to introduce you officially as his side piece. Unofficially, most insiders know, but the press hasn’t picked up on it yet. If Ada knows she says nothing about it - she lets him be quietly awful.
Your duties with Helena dwindle and he finds you under his desk more often than not, lips stretched around his cock, your lipstick smeared on his shaft.
Leon slaps his dick against your cheek and you jump, shoulders up near your ears.
“Don’t do that.” You pop off his cock to scold him, the wet of your mouth engulfing him a moment later, head bobbing as you take him to the hilt.
“Sorry,” he nearly whines, lips parting when you mouth along his dick, licking the seam of his sac when you reach the base.
Your hand works his cock while you suck on his heavy balls, leaving your red kisses all over him, he’ll watch them run down the drain when he showers. He feels your teeth graze his sensitive skin and the knot in his lower belly snaps, seed spurting from his leaky tip and landing on your cute red blouse in white ribbons. You kind of look like a red velvet cake.
“Oh fuck, Leon!” You knock your head on the desk when you get up, rubbing the forming bump with a groan as you dab at the stain on your shirt with a tissue.
“I’m sorry, you surprised me!” He makes no move to help ‘cause when he does try you only seem to get more agitated at him.
“Fuck, just—How am I supposed to go home like this?” The stain is pretty much cemented, that shit is potent, goddamn.
“You can take my jacket,” Leon offers, ever the gentleman.
“Right, and let everyone find out?” You raise a brow at him.
“Thought that’s what you wanted anyway,” he huffs.
“I do, but not like this,” you groan, missing the trashcan when you toss the clump of wet tissues, “I want to be caught doing something romantic, or just glamorous, not with your fucking dick in my mouth.”
“Oh, baby,” Leon coos, “but you’ve always got my dick in your mouth.”
“Shut up, Leon, oh—Whatever, just, I’m leaving, okay? Don’t call me tonight.” You grab your handbag from his desk, heels click-clacking as you exit, a very proud and noticeable stain on your right tit. He likes that one better.
Leon doesn’t call you, he finds himself away on foreign business, swept up by presidential duties for once and too busy to answer any calls that aren’t to do with work. He’s in Paris overseeing whatever Hunmigan told him to oversee when the news breaks. He never sees your voicemails until they come to him in the form of transcripts.
Leon, oh god, I’m sorry—I’m sorry for being a bitch last week, but can you please call me back? It’s important.
Leon? I’m sorry, can you call me back? It’s really important, I’m—I’m not fucking around, I promise. It’s just that, oh god, Leon, I really messed up, I can’t believe… I don’t want you to hate me for this, I know you’re mad at me, but please can you answer? They didn’t let me in today, they said you were away and—I told them who I was, that I worked there, I gave them Helena’s name and they still, Leon they didn’t let me in. I thought they knew about us.
Leon, I can’t—I need you to answer me, I feel like I’m talking into thin air, can you please just call me back, please, Leon? It’s urgent. I fucked up, I just need you to answer me so we can fix this, I fucked up so bad and I’m sorry, Leon—I was, I was stupid, but I can fix it if you just answer me. I love you a lot, Leon, please answer me.
I didn’t mean to call her, Leon, I didn’t—I mean, she’s my friend, I tell her everything and I wasn’t thinking. I was just upset, I just wanted to talk to someone about it, I didn’t know she would—I didn’t know she would do that to me. I didn’t fucking know, I just wanted to talk to somebody, I just—Please, don’t be mad at me, Leon.
I was frustrated, I told her about the shirt, why I got mad at you—I didn’t think anything of it, I tell her everything so I didn’t think it would be—I mean, she was acting weird, I was gonna take the shirt to be dry-cleaned after you fucked it up, but she told me I looked fat in it and that’s so—Leon, that’s so weird of her to say, Claire would never say that to me and I was fucking thinking at the time, that’s so weird, she would never say anything like that to me—Shit, and she even said it weird, y’know? Like it hurt her to say it, and I fucking just left it in the back of my closet, I don’t know why, she just got in my head about it ‘cause she’d never say anything like that and I was so confused. Oh fuck. God. I really love you, Leon, like, a lot. Call me back, it’s urgent, please don’t do this to me.
The press conference is held two weeks later, and surprisingly, you don’t show your face or make a fuss. He thought you’d cause a riot, that you’d sell that blouse for millions, get it DNA tested, ruin his life in a few seconds. It might be shame or heartbreak, Leon doesn’t know.
He wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. From beside him, Hunnigan gives him a slight nudge. “You call her a woman, not a girl, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
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“I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” he says, posed up in front of an American flag like a pinup girl, “I want you all to listen to me, I’m gonna say this again, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” He’s distinctly handsome on your flatscreen TV.
This man is full of nothing but his own prick.
How could you be so stupid? You should’ve kept it strictly business, but of course, you wanted more, you always want more.
While you suppress the urge to cry, your mom places a hand on your shoulder. “No use crying over spilt milk, honey,” she hums, going back to her fashion magazine a moment later.
But it is, he ruined that blouse, and you love that blouse. Not to mention you’re a laughing stock. You’re not the First Lady, you’re just some crazy bitch who lied about fucking the President.
It’s not fair, he gets to come away with everything intact, you’re the one who loses everything. Your internship, Claire, respect, everything. It’s all coming undone. All that dick you sucked landed you nowhere, and he—He just gets off scot-free.
You need to take him down.
Leon was smart enough to leave no evidence, he rarely messaged, he only called and call logs alone are never enough to prove anything. You’ve got all those gifts, but that means nothing to anyone, you can’t prove who got them.
Oh.
What got you in this mess in the first place is bound to get you out of it.
You ask Daddy to get you a good lawyer and you open up your case against Leon Scott Kennedy. DNA testing is on your side, the results tell the nation that it is in fact his American seed on your blouse and that their President is a sex fiend who likes to break young girls with bright dreams and promising futures.
Which, of course, isn’t true, you knew what you were getting into, but you’d happily lie to get the last word. To wipe the smile off his smug fucking face. You still want to fuck him, you still like him a lot. He sticks to you in an unpleasant way, like his cum.
“He’s on TV again,” your sister lets you know, and you lift your head from a court document to watch your ex-boyfriend fumble his way through a thorough grilling.
Leon dodges questions well, but you can tell he’s getting nervous. His fingers twitch and his blinking becomes more rapid. “Uh, what qualifies as sexual relations?” He tries to throw them off with his stupidly hot smile, his dimples and white teeth and pretty eyes when he knows damn well that being balls deep in your pussy is a sexual fucking relation.
“She wanted me,” he says finally, and Hunnigan closes her eyes like she knows it’s over, running her hand over her face as Leon undoes a lifetime of her work, “she wanted me, who was I to say no—As an American man, it’s my duty to listen to our women.”
Oh, he’s so fucking screwed. Why did you fuck such an idiot? You should’ve gone for an actor instead.
Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.
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President Leon S. Kennedy
July 19, 2024.
KENNEDY:
Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans, good evening.
Today, I’m standing here to take complete responsibility for all my actions, public and private. I’m here to admit to a personal failing, an indiscretion, that has hurt my family, colleagues, and the American people.
It is with great regret that I admit to having an extramarital affair with [REDACTED]. This was a serious lapse in my judgement and a personal failure, one that has brought endless pain to those around me, it was never my intention to disappoint the ones I hold so dear.
As I told the grand jury today, at no time did I ask for evidence to be destroyed or hidden, at no time did I ask anyone to lie for my wrongdoings. This is not a moment for excuses or justification, my actions were wrong, plain and simple. I misled both the nation and my wife with my previous statements, I understand that it gave a false impression to those around me, and to those who trust me. I deeply regret that.
My actions have caused the nation pain and needless embarrassment, and for that, I am truly sorry.
I had concerns for my family and protecting their privacy, the independent counsel investigation moved onto staff, family members, friends of mine and it has gone on for too long.
Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I committed to taking full responsibility for this transgression. Once again, I apologise and aim to reclaim my private life for my wife, friends and colleagues. It’s nobody’s business but ours.
I humbly ask for your understanding and patience as I strive to earn back the trust of my fellow people, of our God, and of those around me.
Our nation faces significant challenges that require my full dedication, I ask for us to turn away from this spectacle, to move forward to come together and focus on the tasks ahead, to remain united in our efforts to build a better tomorrow.
Thank you for watching. God bless America. And good night.
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319 notes · View notes
watchmegetobsessed · 10 months
Text
MISTLETOE
A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at. 
“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.
It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move. 
As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.
Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point. 
He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip. 
“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.
With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well. 
“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close. 
Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind. 
“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.
“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind. 
Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.
“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table. 
“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”
“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”
They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.
When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender. 
“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement. 
A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling. 
“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.
“Yeah, thanks.”
It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long. 
The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.
“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever. 
Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that. 
Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.
Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports. 
Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–
“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”
They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…
He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers. 
A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her. 
All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his. 
Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way. 
“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other. 
“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing. 
“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention. 
Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable. 
Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language. 
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