#the realization that despite everything telling u not to

[sibelin]

my heart is full of love and i have one (1) friend online to talk to i'm going to explode

[cherry-shipping]

started replaying broken age now after 6 years……… can you believe i felt a pang of jealousy and sadness that a character who is a literal silly knife with a face implied it had dated another character once (a spoon with a face)

[delusional-day-dreamer]

U My Everything - p.b

‣ paige x grumpy reader: part two here!

‣ wc: 3178

‣‣ synopsis: paige's harmless joke is taken a little too personally by her sensitive and grumpy girlfriend; slight angst? but very fluffy by the end! (the song is most relevant for the end part of the fic as it's inspired by KK's 05/31/24 live, can u tell I live for uconn lives?)

‣‣‣ a/n: I'M SORRY, i know y'all chose emily in the poll but I alr finished this one and I've promised myself I would try to release at least one fic a day; emily's will be out very very soon, writing smut for the first time is just very nerve wracking lmao. this is lightly based off the, good morning gorgeous, tiktok trend going around rn; Also, I'm so sorry for the amount of times I use y'all, like, literally, and really because I try to make my dialogue and what not as realistic as possible, but as a Southern Californian they're literally engraved into my vocabulary 😭😭.

Rolling over in bed half-conscious, your arms reach out, patting around the bed in an attempt to locate your girlfriend's warmth without having to open your eyes. However, to your sheer disappointment, your fingers are met with cold, rumpled sheets on Paige's side of the bed.

Now fully conscious with confusion as to how your girlfriend managed to slip from bed without you realizing, the pounding in your head became all the more severe as you sat up in bed, frustrated that the one person who could comfort you simply with their presence was nowhere to be found.

With your right hand massaging the temple, attempting to soothe the deep ache that had settled into the front portion of your head, your left hand blindly felt around your nightstand for your phone, knowing Paige wouldn't have left you alone in bed without so much as a simple text message. But to your surprise, her name was absent from your list of notifications.

Even more annoyed than before, you forced yourself out of her bed, stumbling your way to her adjacent bathroom, wincing at the sudden intrusion that was fluorescent lighting. By the time you began brushing your teeth, you heard the front door open, hearing Paige call your name as she entered the dorm.

"Bathroom," you yelled out to her, despite your head screaming at you to shut up and crawl back under the safety of Paige's comforter.

"Hey baby," Paige greeted as she entered the bathroom while you spit toothpaste into the sink, coming up behind you to hug your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. As you stood back up to meet her gaze in the mirror's reflection, you saw her tuck her bottom lip into her mouth, clearly trying to hide her shit-eating grin.

"Well don't you look... interesting this morning," she teased, the sarcasm apparent in her low voice. You knew her mocking was all in good fun, the two of you often poking fun at each other for little things. But perhaps it was the headache still waging war in your skull, or the final three midterms you had to take later today, or your remanent annoyance at having to wake up alone, despite her knowing your favorite part of the day was waking up, warm and all loved up in her arms, or perhaps it was the fact that looking in the mirror, you genuinely looked wrecked this morning.

Your curly hair was reduced to nothing but a puff of frizz overnight, sticking out in all directions, your eyebags particularly prominent this morning, combined with the pesky anxiety breakout that had settled into your forehead a few days prior, you just couldn't handle her jokes today.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out Paige," you shot back, setting your toothbrush back in its cup holder, exiting her hold to wipe your hands on the small towel before pushing past her to get dressed in her room.

Paige followed close behind you, curious as to why you were giving her so much attitude so early in the day, especially over such a harmless statement.

"What's up with you, this is the first time I've even seen you this morning," She questioned from her seat on the unmade bed as you began changing your clothes with your back facing her, which was another thing that struck out to her as odd. After dating for over a year now, the two of you were incredibly comfortable with each other, and it was rare for you to completely turn your back on her, even when changing.

"Nothing, I'm just not in the mood today," you grumbled, tugging your, her, sweatshirt over your head. Heading over to her floor length mirror with your makeup bag and necessary hair products in hand, you settle down on the floor in front of it, convinced to improve your appearance a bit before you head off to your exams today. Still ignoring Paige's presence in the room, you began getting ready.

Hearing her scoff as you started applying your makeup, she got up and began making the bed, intent on ignoring your bratty mood until you fixed it. You knew you were being petty and acting bitchy to your girlfriend, who had technically done nothing wrong, you just couldn't force yourself to drop the attitude. By the time you finished your makeup and smoothed out your slickback, you managed to go the entire twenty minutes without so much as looking at your girlfriend through the mirror, who had now perched herself on her side of the bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

Your headache hadn't subsided yet, but now that you were more awake, you had gotten used to the throbbing sensation. Making your way over to your side of her bed, you collected your phone, headphones, watch, school bag, and other items from your nightstand and around the area to get ready to leave.

"Your heading out already? You still have over an hour before your first class," Paige finally addressed you, putting her phone in her lap to look at you as you packed your things.

"Yeah I'm gonna head to the library early so I can review before my first midterm," You answered, speaking to her normally for the first time in the last hour she had returned.

"But what about breakfast, you're not gonna be able to concentrate and stuff when you're all hangry," she said, only slightly teasing you with her statement.

"I'll just grab something to eat from the coffee shop next to the library, I was gonna stop by and get matcha from there anyways," you responded, a small part inside of you glad that despite your attitude, Paige made sure that you were well taken care of.

"Dude I still don't understand how you drink that stuff, tastes like straight grass," she had dropped her concern and switched back to joking, her automatic setting. "But I guess it's fitting," she continued, "cause yk, cows just love their grass," she sighed, holding back her laughter at what she thought was a brilliant joke.

In her defense, if it was any other morning, you would've joined in on her teasing, either mooing at her in response or poking fun at her in return.

But today, it just ticked you off even further. I mean, you were clearly already in a bad mood, stressed the fuck out, hangry (but Paige didn't need to know she was right), and the sharp pressure in your head was only getting worse. Plus, Paige had already easily finished off her midterm exams two days prior, which meant she didn't truly understand why you were so worked up over your exams. And the worst part, your bloating and exhaustion really did make you feel a little bit like a cow.

“P I'm just not in the mood to deal with you right now," you sighed, exasperation laced in your tone. "I already feel bad enough this morning, I can't handle you piling more onto my plate, I'll see you later," you barely even said goodbye to her properly as you gathered your stuff, put on your shoes, and left her dorm.

The second you closed her door behind you, you could feel the pit forming in your stomach, full of regret and shame. You knew it was unfair to be so rude to Paige when she was just trying to lighten your mood, but your anxiety always caused you to last out at anyone who tried to help you. You made a mental note while walking to your favorite coffee shop to apologize and make it up to her when you saw her in the evening, after the stress from midterm week had diffused and your raging headache calmed down.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You were flipping through your study notes and flashcards while listening to one of Paige's playlist on the lowest volume possible when you saw your phone screen light up from next to you. Deciding it would be good to take a quick thirty second break, you reach for your phone and matcha latte at the same time, clicking on the text message you received from Paige.

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From P 💜:

I'm so sorry for making fun of you this morning baby, I know you're stressed about your tests today and I had no intentions of making you feel worse with my jokes, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit because I know how bad your anxiety can get. Good luck on your test today killer, i love you 🤍.

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Shit, now you really felt bad for snapping at her earlier today. All remnants of your misplaced anger had long since disappeared, now replaced with embarrassment. She was right, your anxiety was hitting you hard today, but that was no excuse for bitching out your girlfriend just for trying to improve your mood. You quickly hearted her message and began typing out a short response, as you knew you needed to apologize in-person for your behaviour.

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To P 💜:

Thank you so much P, I'll see you later tonight baby. I love you too 🤍

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***SMALL TIME SKIP***

You breathed a sigh of relief as you finally reached the floor of Paige's dorm room, exhausted from your long and mentally tiring day of midterms, but you were finally done, your headache was finally gone, and you now had the weekend to relax and spend time with your girlfriend.

As you reached for your keys in your pocket, you heard the loud commotion of voices that you recognized to be KK, Aubrey, Sarah, Allie, and Paige in the living room. It wasn't uncommon for the girls to be over, as the team always spent hung out together outside of practice, and since you started spending more time at Paige's dorm, you had quickly stocked her near bare kitchen full of snacks, baked goods, and home-cooked meals the girls loved to steal.

You entered the living room greeting everyone as you took off your shoes, making a beeline straight to where Paige was sitting on the couch. You stood in between the space of her legs, wrapping your free arm around her shoulders to lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Hey P," you spoke softly, looking down at the small smile that had settled on her face.

"Hey yourself, how were you midterms? Today was your last day right?" She questioned as her fingertips began running up and down the back of your legging covered thigh.

"They were fine, I think I did good on majority of them. My math midterm was a little shaky, but not too bad yk?" You answered her quietly, afraid to pop the little bubble of peace you two had created around yourselves among the chaos of the living room's occupants.

"I," you began, as your hand had made its way to the front of her face as you pushed back a small piece of hair that had escaped out of her bun. "Will you come in the room with me real quick?" You asked her, practically whispering at this point.

"Yeah of course baby," she answered quickly, letting her hand travel up your body to rest at the small of your back as she stood up, leading you past everyone to her bedroom.

"We'll be right back," she announced to the group as the two of walked by. "Oooo, Paige is in trouble," KK sang out as the two of you reached her closed room door, Paige still standing behind you. She turned the knob quickly, gently pushing you into the room first as she turned around to stick her tongue out at KK before she closed the door.

By the time she turned around from the door to face you, she barely had a moment to adjust to your body barreling into her, as you had already dropped your bag off next to her desk. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, being able to sense that you just needed to be held for a minute before speaking.

She lightly rubbed your back and shoulders with her hands, knowing exactly what it was that immediately calmed you down. You stayed silent in her comforting embrace for a few more minutes, having craved her touch all day when you were around campus.

"I'm sorry," you finally spoke up, unburying your head from her chest to look her in the eyes. "I was really rude to you for no reason this morning. My headache when I woke up and all the stress I had was completely unrelated to you, but I still ended up taking it out on you," you sighed before continuing, "I really appreciate the fact that you were trying to cheer me up this morning, even though I was being a total bitch. And you are never a burden or someone who adds more onto my plate, I love you and I'm so sorry I said that to you, I would never want you to feel that way and-" as your eyes began to well up with tears, the last of your apology was cut off by Paige.

"Hey hey it's okay baby," she pulled you slightly away from her as the tears began flowing from your eyes. "I know you," she maintained eye contact as she reassured you, "And I know you would never act like that normally, you are not a bitch. You were just stressed out and not feeling well. I understand, and I promise I'm not mad at you at all," her right hand moved up from your back to your face, wiping the tears streaming down your face.

"Thank you P, I have no idea what I would do without you," you sniffled lightly, your hand coming up to wipe your face as well. "I love you so much, you have no idea," you professed.

"I love you too y/n/n," she whispered as her hands wrapping around your waist as she pulled you into her, leaning down slightly to kiss you. Your hands flew up the moment your lips connected, one cradling her jaw while the other rested on the base of her neck. The kiss was slow and languid, an apology met with forgiveness as your lips moved together.

The loud rumbling of your stomach, interrupted your sweet moment with Paige, forcing the two of you to separate as a giggle slipped out of her.

"Didn't realize a small kiss made you that hungry for me," she smiled, now at peace knowing that you were no longer upset. "Shut up," you smiled back, lightly hitting her chest as you broke away from her. "I am for real hungry though, but I need to shower first," you told her as you moved around the room, grabbing your towel and a fresh pair of pajamas to change into.

"I'm pretty sure Aubrey is ordering Domino's so I'll tell her to add in something for you, and it'll probably be here by the time you get out," she kissed your cheek as you went to exit the room, heading for a quick shower as she remained in her room.

***SMALL TIME SKIP***

As you entered the living room, curls freshly washed, a soft pair of Paige's sweatpants resting low on your hips, and a small off the shoulder sweatshirt over your sleep tank top, you witness KK showing her tik tok live her "hips dance", if it could even be referred to as that.

"Oh wow," Paige commented dryly at the sight while getting up from the couch so she could grab her laptop from the kitchen counter. You moved past her to Aubrey's desk, grabbing a piece of garlic knots from the Domino's box she left partially open (i don't think she actually bought any but I'm craving them so i added it in here). You rested your hip against the table, waving at the live while KK queued up Sexyy Red on her Siri.

Everyone knew you and Paige were a couple, when Paige accidentally hard-launched you by posting a cute couples pic on her main instagram story instead of her close friends. But since then, the two of you kept a private but not secret relationship, very occasionally posting together, but fans often saw candids of the two of you on dates or together in the team's lives or other events.

You licked the remaining cheese and butter off your fingers as you watched Paige, KK, and Aubrey dance in front of the camera to "U My Everything", smiling at their so-called dance moves, especially Paige's.

"Man we go together tell them hoes we go together," Paige sang, before doing her little "attitude now walk" move, making you double over with laughter at her with the other two girls.

You scratched the back of your neck as you continued to watch the girls mess around, too tired from your day to join them, but content just from watching them. As the second chorus approached, Paige walked up to your leaned figure on the desk, grabbing your bare waist and pulling you into her as she sang.

"Bae, I love you, you my everything, I'm your main bitch, fuck a wedding ring," you laughed at her awful singing, but you couldn't deny the blush that rose to your cheeks at the thought of her singing you the lyrics while very clearly in the live's frame. "We both in fast cars and we switchin' lanes, when I'm away from you, you always on my brain," she continued, adding in her sassy facial expressions with the corresponding lyrics.

You couldn't help but laugh at her actions, the pure giddiness coursing through your veins was a complete 180 from your mood this morning, and you couldn't help but think there was nowhere that would make you happier than in her arms.

Thank you for reading all the way through! The recent support has been crazy and I appreciate all of you! Should I make a part two to this with smut so r can properly apologize to p.... 😏😏😏

[othercrossee]

them being so chummy in the 5 years time skip is so funny cuz i make them so blood thirsty to each other when they both first became leaders

[bunnyrafe]

hi baby bunbun i just got an idea

i drank with my friend last night playing beer pong and it just gave me a lil idea for a protective!rafe 🙂‍↕️

reader being a lightweight, growing drunk very easily after a few drinks- and rafe being rafe, he eventually starts telling her to take it easy b u t reader's a lil party animal, so she does the opposite 🙂‍↕️

he basically just keeps trying but eventually gives up and instead drags her out once she's got worse 😭

IDK I JUST LUV ME SOME STRICT PROTECTIVE RAFE

ps: reader is also a bit stubborn, y'can do with that what you will >:)

HONEYBABY. sick ‘n twisted that we can’t party together but i digress. made this way more cutesy than i intended. rafe may be psychotic but he adores his sweet girl </3

strict, protective rafey…

he DEFINITELY yanks you out of that house the second he noticed how other guys are looking at you. figures it’s better to just remove both of you from the situation than to start a brawl, and if you weren’t so fucked up you probably would’ve praised him for showing so much restraint.

anyway so like, he’s so mad because he’s fully sober and you’re more or less plastered… but you’re being so cute ‘n you’re so drunk ‘n silly that he cant bring himself to be that mean despite how impatient he may be. honestly he’s too busy helping you walk and stay upright. he knows if you wake up and realize you’ve ruined your dress in a drunken haze you’ll cry— and yes, this is one of the many reasons why he kept warning you. he has to stop himself from laughing when you hiccup as he’s opening the door for you.

“up ya go— get in the truck, baby.” he practically coos.

“rafey, help me.” you demand.

it takes everything in him not to loudly sigh in defeat when you turn the opposite way and wrap your arms around his neck instead of climbing into your rightful passenger princess seat. the seat he fought to get you to.

“m’not playing your games right now.”

at that, you turn your nose up at him; “well— then m’not moving,” you huff, “not until you pick me up.”

his arms lock around your waist in an instant and you giggle, knowing that you’ve won. rafe’s patience is finally running out as he lifts you up and into the truck. cursing and ranting under his breath while doing up your seatbelt, and of course you attempt to kiss him as he does so.

“i dunno, kid,” he grumbles, getting behind the steering wheel, “you’ll be lucky if i ever let you fuckin’ go out again after tonight.”

[churipu]

hi i wanted to ask since your requests are open but can u write abt jjk guys (gojo, geto and maybe megumi as well) and how it would be like arguing with them? thank youuu~

ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN ˚｡𖦹

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing on toji's :)

note. hi nonnie, megumi's been done and you can just click right there to be directed to the said post — so, i'm going to change him to his father jsksdjdk. anyways, i'm so sorry this came out so late, i hope you like it. i was going to focus on my 1k event but then i realized that i'm holding up the requests in my inbox, so i'm going to try to upload them together one by one. / and ngl, i just did my nails done for the first time, aND I AM STRUGGLING TO DO ANYTHING. including typing, but i'm trying my best skdjs.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with him are just plain loud. for instance, we all know how gojo is, he'd be so petty during arguments. despite that though — i feel like he won't ever raise his voice at you, he's petty, yes. but he won't do anything that could scare you, raising his voice.

believe me when i say that he won't back down when he isn't in the wrong. he will argue back if you're wrong; and even with all that banter, both you and gojo will always resolve it together. he won't let you leave or turn away to discard the argument. gojo hates it when you give him the silent treatment — so he tries his best to not let you leave unless everything is talked about, face to face.

"satoru, i'm just saying that i didn't mean to do that. okay? i didn't even realize it!" you tell him, voice loud and bold.

gojo looks at you, brows furrowed, "this is the second time y/n, i'm sure you realize that — you're not a child anymore." you grumbled under your breath.

the past few days have been stressful. hectic for you. you knew though it wasn't an excuse, but when things get too caught up — you lose track of things, and honestly, you wanted nothing to do but to sleep and take a rest. work has been taking a big toll on you, both mentally and physically — and you can't bring yourself to argue with gojo right now.

"satoru, i know. it's just, things have been stressful at work. i'm sorry i forgot to turn off the stove," you tell him genuinely sorry that you almost, possibly burn the whole house down if he hadn't been the one to realize that, "i'm sorry, okay?"

his gaze softened. regaining control over the rhythm of his breathing, gojo reaches out to you, "d'you wanna talk about it?"

you shook your head, "i just wan' to sleep, satoru. i'm tired." he buries his nose into your hair before tossing you over his shoulder, you didn't complain at the way he decided to carry you — you just wanted to go to bed and sleep the night away.

the male held you close as he climbed your shared bed, "'m sorry too," he mumbles, grazing his lips over your forehead.

"you don't have to be, it's my fault for being reckless," you replied, draping an arm over his torso, clutching his black shirt, "can we sleep now?"

gojo chuckles, "mhm. good night," he whispers, "i love you."

you smiled at him, burying your face into his chest, "good night 'toru. i love you more."

GETO SUGURU. arguments with geto can be pretty frustrating, although he never raises his voice at you. he just knows what to say, and he's always right too. whether it being about you forgetting to throw the trash out (once), or you being forgetful about some things — geto just knows the right words to say to you, without making you feel like you're doing something wrong.

see, the thing is in the house. you both divided your chores, geto does the dishes, and the mopping. you do the laundry and vacuuming. while the morning trash is yours, and he does it nightly.

he's usually never in the wrong. most of the time. but when he is, he will admit so. in conclusion, you don't argue with him often, because he will apologize if he knows he did something wrong. but this was on rare occasions.

today is one of those rare occasions. you swore you had left the house clean — and you remembered throwing the trash before you leave for work. yet, here he was, asking you about it.

"suguru, i promise i threw it in the morning. before i left for work," you tell him, taking off your shoes and putting it neatly on the shoe rack. having to come back home from work, you just wanted to eat dinner, have a nice warm bath, and sleep.

god, you hated arguments. you admitted that you sometimes forget to throw the trash out while rushing to go to work, but that was not intentional at all.

geto had asked your prior about it. you knew he wasn't sparking an argument, but the thing is — you remembered it well. going out of the door this morning while holding a plastic of waste, hell, you even remembered bumping into a neighbor on the way out.

"just . . . let me throw it out again—" geto has been awfully silent for the past few minutes, and when you approached the trash can, he immediately stops you.

his hand latching around your wrist gently as he pulls you over, "no, no. it's my fault, i remember now. i was the one who threw that in the trash can after you left," he said to you in an apologetic tone, "'m sorry."

you shook your head, "it's okay, it's just a misunderstanding. and it's not like you intentionally forgot about it, right?" he nods his head mutely, pulling you into a silent embrace, "y'okay sugu?"

"the next time i do that — i want you to smack me in the face, okay?" you chuckled, placing a wet kiss onto his lips.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i don't know how to say it — he's just accepts his fate and does whatever you want him to do. he thinks arguments are a complete waste of time, it's not like he likes arguing with you in the first place. he just doesn't see a point to it since he never initiates the talking; you always do. but that's because he did things that sparked the said argument. you reap what you sow.

toji can be lazy sometimes. scratch that. most of the time. clothes sprawled out in the living room, on the kitchen counter which he claimed he forgot when he was grabbing water, on the couch, on the headboard of your bed, on the bathroom sink. and honestly, he's a grown man — he knows better than that.

"toji, how many times do i have to tell you—"

"put the dirty laundry in their place, yeah, y'reminded me that like . . . three times today." he grumbled under his breath as he yawned out loudly.

"then why are you still leaving them everywhere? god, this is so childish! it's like 'm taking care of a fucking baby," toji lets out a sigh, "i'm so tired of telling you over and over again. you're a grown man, why can't you act like one?"

toji's not dumb. he knows it's his mistake, and sometimes he genuinely forgets about leaving his shirt out while being too preoccupied with other things. he loves you, he really does. the last thing he'd like is you leaving him because he can't stop his habit of leaving his shirt everywhere.

he approaches you, taking the shirt out of your grip, "my fault."

"damn right it is. the next time i see another shirt, i swear to god, you're sleeping on the couch." you muttered out, crossing your arms — watching as the male meekly trotted into the bathroom where the laundry basket rested beside the bathroom cabinet.

"is that a threat?" he chuckles, peeking his head out.

"no. it's a warning."

he walks out of the bathroom, slithering an arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. prepping you on his lap, "mm. noted, can you stop getting mad at me now?" he comments, grazing his finger over your neck.

and he did it again at night (and slept on the couch like you warned him, he still hates you for that).

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[eloquentlytired]

18+ mdni

— his problem

pairing: old!logan howlett x fem short!reader tags: public sex — rough sex — unresolved feelings — tension — slight angst — old man logan doesn't run away upon hearing the words I love you ( shook! ) — he just needs a little therapy — he also likes calling you princess! — soft ending summary: you run away after you deem yourself a problem to logan, charles and caliban. of course a man like logan doesn't let that slide and you're to realize why once he finds you. author's note: i wrote this faster than a uni assignment so if u spot any mistakes i apologize im kneeling on the ground and pleading 4 forgiveness ( not really ). ENJOYYYY and as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

ৎৎৎ

the rain is rough and heavy on your skin but it doesn't stop you from running away. you were a burden to them — to logan, caliban and charles. they already had so many problems and you were just an addition to that list.

charles wouldn't agree. logan simply wouldn't show it. and well... caliban was caliban. he was just being realistic sometimes with his words but it wasn't his purpose to hurt you.

you heard yelling from a distance — it was like angry roaring. logan.

you tried to speed up the pace and run faster, your sundress clinging on you like second skin. you were soaked to the bone and your vision was getting hectic because of the many droplets staining your eyelashes.

one more blink and logan was suddenly running behind you — despite how old he'd become, despite his body literally suffering from the inside he had still come out to get you. it was the first time he did and not caliban or even charles.

“stop!” logan yelled at you, struggling to catch up but only a little. you were no mutant or nearly athletic; and you'd been running until now without stopping under the cold rain. your body was silently suffering.

a rough body pushed you on the nearest tree, your chin and your knees scraping against the wet trunk.

logan stood behind you taller and bigger as you struggled to remove yourself from his grip. one of his hands slid to your nape and he held it firmly, shoving your face against the tree. you winced. he growled. “what the hell were you thinking? running away after that everything we've done for you.”

tears prickled at your eyes and you swallowed so they wouldn't fall. not like he'd care. “I— I just wanted to get rid of one of your problems!” you yelled over the rain and logan pressed his mouth on your ear, his knees brushing against the back of yours. “the fuck did you say?” logan asked. or rather growled again.

“i’m a problem; charles loves me but caliban tolerates me and you—” you paused trying to push down another sob. “you despise me, I can sense it. just let me go!”

the grip he had on your nape, that strong veiny arm, was enough to overpower you. even when you thrashed around maniacally and tried to use your limbs to kick back, logan didn't seem the least affected. wild eyes took in the sight of you— your wet clinging sundress, the white panties peaking beneath it and your bare feet. logan was certain you'd have some new wounds there from all that barefoot running. you gasped as his unoccupied hand moved to pull down your panties, letting them pool around your ankles without care.

“logan, what are you—”

“enough. I have let you off the hook too many times. when you talk back, when you don't follow simple orders. when you do that shit at night.” logan was certainly referring to the times you two would argue and then he'd tell you to fuck right off in your room. you'd listen to that order but not without laying in your bed and touching yourself, coming with his name on your lips.

he heard. you knew. logan knew that you knew. and at that very moment, his entire patience for you broke down.

“logan!” one of his arms had put your head in a tight lock, your chin firmly nestled at the inside of his elbow.

he grunted as he fucked you from behind, his cock slipping in and out of your pussy in fast and deep thrusts.

your ass collided against his hips with every thrust and your helpless hands simply held onto the arm that had forced you into this headlock.

“I fucking saved you. I picked you up from the street,I took care of you—” logan grunted as his other hand played with your breasts, teasing a hard bud between experienced fingers. it'd been a while for the both of you but logan definitely knew more than you did.

a certain circular roll of his hips had you wailing and moaning loudly.

“— I fucking did everything so that you survive. and you're trying to leave me?” he couldn't help but feel that ache in his chest, one he hadn't felt in a long time. your body shook with each thrust directed at your weeping core, logan’s tip nudging that sensitive bulge of nerves while stretching you out with hidden intent.

“i'm sorry! I’m so sorry!” you sobbed and logan squeezed your breast painfully hard until you were looking at him with those eyes — hot tears running down your face. the rain kept going. and so did logan with fucking you under it.

your soaked sundress was a mere dirty fabric around your ankles alongside your underwear. logan drove his hips into yours, hissing everytime your pussy would tighten its grip around his cock, just like a damn vine. his white shirt clung onto his body wetly and his trousers were accompanying yours on the ground — around his own ankles.

“you’d really leave? you wouldn't come back?” he grunted in your ear and tightened his hold around your fragile head. every part of you was in fact fragile.

your hands shakily scratched against his arm and your eyes rolled back when some of your oxygen was stolen from you; logan was squeezing around your throat so tight while slamming into your pussy, raw and deep. it was impossible not to slur your words when he fucked you like this. and you enjoyed every moment. “wanted to— help. I wanted to make things easier—" but your words reached no one.

there was something about logan fucking you in the rain in the middle of the forest. you felt the attraction to this and so did he. he liked the way your nails clawed at his arm helplessly and how your asscheeks bounced against his hips. “logan—" you choked on your scream as his pace turned lethal, his cock drilling your insides without mercy. you could feel the slap of his heavy balls against your clit and everything burned. “do I have to be the bad guy? just because I want all of us safe? because I want you to be safe?” his words conveyed his feelings clearly and it was evident that you'd hurt him with your decision.

your head fell helplessly back on his shoulder and you twisted it around enough to look at him. logan followed your gaze and when your eyes met, you kissed. his lips melted against yours as his hand slapped your breasts, making your pussy clench again.

“keep your eyes on me, princess.” he muttered between hot kisses and you obeyed. it was a different experience to have logan like this, messy beard rubbing against your face while those tired eyes gazed into yours as he filled you up.

“i love you.” you mumbled against his lips and logan slipped his cock out just to force it back inside, your gummy walls spasming around his thickness. you expected him to get mad but logan simply kissed you again while wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you like that as he plunged his cock inside your wetness.

a few thrusts later you were coming around his girth, squeezing him so tight and the situation was just too dangerous for him to continue. “gotta pull out, princess.” he rasped but you squeezed around him in response while pushing your hips back, your intentions very clear.

those eyes looked up at him and fuck he really was a weak man. the weakest if you will.

logan came inside you with a shudder, stumbling forward until your body was squished between the tree trunk and his chest. “princess.” he grunted again and his hips melted into yours. no inch separated your connected bodies as he filled your pussy to the brim.

you had told him no but logan insisted to carry you back home, holding your bare body against his merely clothed one. at least he had his trousers on while you had nothing. “about the I love you part—” you were overthinking it and logan had noticed. he silenced you with a kiss; a kiss which he placed on your forehead. “when I woke up today and saw the house empty, your room empty... and when charles told me you wouldn't be returning—” there was so much emotion in his eyes that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.

you reached out and caressed logan’s cheek, as well as the wrinkles by his eye. how much you loved those. “I want you to stay. I love you.” his genuine words and gaze made you melt and you found yourself leaning against him, resting your head atop his chest.

you were his problem now. it'd be alright.

[mygnolia]

sunghoon when you’re sick

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons!

cw: cursing, mentions of chicken noodle soup (the food not the song), married life, getting sick/colds, hoonie my bae

wc: 1k

- okay so i feel like because he’s on the ice a lot

- he’s cold

- like in en-o-clock ep 20 behind he said it had been a while since he was on the ice so he was cold but that just means whenever he’s performing he’s not cold or not that cold at least

- and he’s acclimated to ice rink temperatures right?

- (and self projecting here but i myself am very cold all the time and it takes me a long time to get warm but i never get hot-?)

- so i feel like maybe one day its raining

- or the heater is broken and you have to suffer

- and you’re both on the bed, scrolling through your phones, but you’re shivering

- but sunghoon’s used to it

- only issue? he is not a raging furnace

- he’s a block of ice

- “sunghoon i’m cold.”

- “y/n, i can’t help you.” he’s just honest w/ everything atp

- “yes you can! cuddle me.” and you’d forcibly grab his arm and tangle urself with him

- you come to the very shocking realization that sunghoon is literally colder than the temperature outside.

- you pull away IMMEDIATELY and scowl at him

- he shrugs as if to tell you “i told you so.”

- he’s not offended he just accepted that he will never be warm

- man knows you’re just trying not to become the ice cube that he is

- omg sunghoon emotional brick and ice cube look at my…shape skills go

- so you’d go back to becoming one with the blankets but it doesn’t work and you’re like “hoonie :((“

- “yes dear.” sunghoon rolls his eyes, looking over at your covered figure nonetheless abd adjusts your blankets for you

- “can we cuddle, the blankets aren’t working :((“

- sunghoon probably gets an eye workout with how many times he rolls his eyes

- but he… L words u…so “okay. come here.” and he puts his phone down on the nightstand and gives you a hug

- internally he would laugh at your antics but he knows you’re just cold and he obviously wants to help but

- mans literally -2 degrees in body heat idk what to tell u

- but after a while you warm up the blankets EVENTUALLY get hotter

- u probs fell asleep and your body heat increased so you’re warm now

- he falls asleep too

- u end up with a COLD and he’s fine btw

- through the coughs and sniffles you blame him for not being your personal fireplace

- he goes “we slept together???? and you cuddled me??? for three hours??? fyi you could have gotten more blankets”

- ‘why can’t this man just spoonfeed u chicken noodle soup like a good bf’

- “can i at least have a kiss?” you pout at him underneath your blankets, even though the heater is in perfect working condition, and sunghoon feels himself falling harder for you everyday

- you are just so DAMN!!! CUTE!!! he can only handle so much until he says fuck it and puts a ring on ur finger

- omg married life with sunghoon or wtv…. NOT blushing

- “no. i’m going to get sick if I kiss you too.”

- “I AM SO SICK OF U!” /j

- ur stupid play on words makes him laugh and he gives in w/ a small peck :>

- even though ur hating him for not being cute and cuddly he just can’t get sick

- he has a competition coming up! sunghoon can’t be under the weather when he’s already under ur spell >:

- “take your medicine goddamnit” but it’s lovingly scolding you as he pushes the weirdly cherry flavored liquid down and follows up with a cup of warm water

- always has tissues on hand

- you’re in the car? tissues. you’re in the kitchen? no babe don’t use the paper towels to blow your nose it’s too rough on your skin

- if you want to cuddle he will say no

- I MEAN EVERY OTHER TIME HE JUST SITS THERE AND LETS U DO WHATEVER U WANT

- “guess this is my life now”

- “i can’t believe you won’t cuddle with me :(“

- “i cant believe you got sick despite hugging me and still having three blankets.” NO CHILL

- sunghoon simultaneously makes fun of you but will take care of you

- if he’s not home expect a sticky note or a voicemail

- “ahh, sorry for ringing your phone so early, i hope you’re getting your sleep <33 just wanted to call and make sure you drink the water in the bottle next to you, i warmed it this morning before i left for practice, and there’s some food in the fridge that jay brought over yesterday. hope you feel better soon i love you”

- alexa play fighting bleeding losing…no matter what i do by txt

- yeah he’s so sweet he’d stop the teasing bc he knows you hate being sick and doesn’t want to make it worse for you

- sometimes you wake up and you literally can’t breathe??

- breathing through nose era when!! /j

- you’d try to get your work done, hoon alr called sick days off for u but you have nothing to do at home so you get your laptop

- “Hi honey,” Sunghoon greets from the doorway, quickly kicking off his shoes and entering your bedroom. “I brought you some tea, Heeseung said it would help you since his mom gave it to him. Do you want some right now?” You nod, coughing with the quick and unexpected movement of your head.

- Sunghoon comes back with a steaming cup of warm golden tea, and blows on the top before letting you take a sip. “Be careful, it’s hot.” And you dismiss his words before you’re hissing at your burned tongue.

- u don’t catch a break huh

- you finish the cup of tea by the end of the night and sunghoon comes to give u a little forehead kith before telling you to sleep

- tmr u wake up and you can BREATHE again

- which gods did this why do you finally feel like a functioning human being

- ANYWAYS THOUGH!! Sunghoon’s competition is in two hours you don’t have time to waste hello?

- Outfit with hoodie, giant puffer jacket, and a turtleneck, and the thickest pants known to mankind

- driving to the rink where he’s competing and watching him with a giant lovesick grin without him knowing you’re there

- you give him a hug when he’s done

- happy at first and loves to see you, but wants to make sure you’re okay

- You both go home and he’s like “half of that outfit is mine.”

- yeah. he’s not wrong. anyways.

- celebratory dinner! he kisses you many many times thanking you for coming out to see him

- happy to finally cuddle again, holding you close now they you’ve recovered

- he got sick the next day.

—

f for sunghoon. thank you.

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase 3 (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: jungkook wants to fight with, for, and beside you.

alternatively, nothing will ever be the same again, and you and jungkook couldn’t be any happier.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

[ fluff, angst, the moral dilemma of keeping someone (read: yoongi) who was almost ur first, last, and everything in ur life despite having another person (read: jungkook) to be exactly that, yearning, full circle moments, The Vagueness n different kind of angst now that 478's a family n not jus a couple anymore, redemption :) ]

notes: thank you for locking in!!!! the og 478 fic aka phase 1 was released two years ago n now we're here can u believe . hee-hee thank u for all the love you've given and continue to have for them!! TRUSTTT that this won't be the last you'll see of them :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

In a nightmare that Jungkook’s experiencing in real time, Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi as her dad.

Jungkook knows fully that there’s a knee-jerk reaction available for practically everything. He knows it well, because the impulse that occupies him kicks in during the most important events of his life.

Your husband’s impulse, which he often confuses for instinct, is too driven to the point that even for the briefest second, all that Jungkook could feel is himself. 

He tasted blood in the roof of his mouth when you left him the first time all those years ago. He had clenched his fists so hard, he almost drew blood over the realization that you had given up on him, even if it was for the time-being.

He felt his heartbeat in his eardrums when Hwayoung’s cries first pierced into the world (and straight to his ears), all to the point that the people surrounding you thought that he suddenly fell ill.

Jungkook could and should be able to feel himself right now; right now when his only child glazes past him and calls Yoongi as her dad, and right now when he hears his name called out for someone it doesn’t and should never belong to — except Jungkook can’t even feel his fingers.

He can’t taste blood in the roof of his mouth and he can’t feel his heartbeat in his eardrums. Jungkook can’t even claw himself out of a nightmare that’s built around him yet staged by his karma alone.

“That’s not appa, Hwayoung,” you cut into the thick air, your lips set in a straight line as it takes everything in you not to scoop up Jungkook into your arms because he looks like he’s about to collapse in shock. “Yoongi’s not your dad.”

Hwayoung understands, of course. She understands it like how she always does whenever her little mistakes get rectified. The concentrated pout on her face tells you that she’s listening, hearing you loud and clear as you reiterate a fact that she seems to have forgotten.

Jungkook genuinely tweaks within his own hold, the knot in his throat unbearable as he can’t even figure out how he’s standing beside you on his own to feet. He stands beside his wife and he stands before his daughter, yet he doesn’t even know if the weight he holds in between is enough for him to stay rooted.

Jungkook is as still as a rock while he watches you correct Hwayoung on the spot. He’s immoveable as he sees his daughter’s eyes flit to him in curiosity before finally coming to realization. He’s frozen, not by his own choosing, but because neither of his impulses nor instincts kick in.

Hwayoung nods easily, and Jungkook thinks that he’s about to lose his mind if it hadn’t already been muddled three seconds prior.

In a dream Jungkook doesn’t tell anyone, he’s not as easily interchangeable with Yoongi in the same way that Hwayoung thinks apples are pears sometimes, and that blue is somehow violet.

The mornings without Hwayoung have been too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since her impromptu vacation from the both of you started, dragging out endlessly to the point that he had to ask you to hold his phone so he could withhold himself from hovering above Hwayoung by asking Yoongi for updates by the minute. Mornings were too bright; too normal to be spent by you and him without a playful toddler who tries to slip her finger in whenever someone yawns. 

Jungkook’s missed his mornings with Hwayoung in between the two of you.

He missed the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out Hwayoung twitching in the dark as she searches for a cold pillow, before later ending up next to your stomach or next to his head. 

He longed (read: still longs perpetually) for the mornings wherein he gets to sleep in and it’s you and Hwayoung who wake him up from dreams he’s always willing to part with, because he knows that he has something infinitely better to wake up to.

“Hiii, appa,” Hwayoung drawls out, hugging his leg as Jungkook automatically pats her head with a gentle hand, the smile on his face more or less forced as he chokes out a greeting. He gets snapped out of his trance immediately, even if he isn’t sure that the sight he woke up to this morning is even worth living alongside with.

“Hi, Young-ie,” he whispers, his eyes strikingly neutral even when Hwayoung grabs his hand and swings it around lightly.

Jungkook make the mistake of looking up and he doesn’t know which is worse; your husband, for once, can’t definitively tell if you looking at him empathically should placate him or unsettle him deep into his core.

What Jungkook can tell however, is that seeing Yoongi’s sly gaze on him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips plays into the rage that he can barely hold onto, if not for the little hand that’s already silently apologized to him.

Hwayoung may not know any better at the moment, but she knows well not to ask questions when Jungkook suddenly stands up out of nowhere when he’s just agreed to play on the floor with her two seconds ago, and she knows better not to stare when you immediately agree and not interrogate him at all.

“I’m gonna step out. Need to blow off steam because otherwise, I’ll take it out on him,” Jungkook whispers to your ear, hands grimly shoved into his pockets. “I know we both saw him do the same thing, Y/N,” he laughs humorlessly, clenching his jaw tightly before he leans down to speak again, enough for Yoongi to both see and hear just how angry he is. “Go put your friend on a leash.”

.

.

.

Yoongi likes to think that it’s spite that keeps him running.

The notion of doing things out of spite is not new at all to him; as a matter of fact, he actually thinks he’s the foundation of it.

Yoongi can’t keep track of the many times that it was spite that put food on the table and pushed him to his limits to arrive at the state that he’s in now. Yoongi yearns unlike no other to the point that it ails him because longing, without any bitterness in it at all, feels pointless.

Longing with only the ambition to surrender in the end is pointless; it doesn’t push Yoongi at all to be the best in anything. It doesn’t make him feel any better because without the regret in his stomach and the resentment in his chest, he wouldn’t be reminded of his dream. 

In a dream Yoongi wants to tell everyone, he doesn’t fall short to Jungkook.

It’s a ridiculous gag dream that feels like a poorly-made skit to him. Yoongi, with all his spite, can’t believe that he only comes second to the likes of Jungkook, who hadn’t worked as hard as he did nor attempted to fight tooth and nail to be even recognized (even under your light) in the first place.

In a well-rehearsed yet trite skit that appears in Yoongi’s mind whenever he goes to sleep after drinking a little too much or waking up with the sheets a little colder than usual, he doesn’t acknowledge Jungkook to be in the same orbit as him; in his dream that’s equivalent to Jungkook’s nightmare, you and Hwayoung are within arm’s reach.

It had been spite that made Yoongi smirk at Jungkook, right after the latter’s whole worldview shattered in front of him when Hwayoung mistook him for a stranger.

It’s everything but spite that makes Yoongi keep his head up high at you, refusing to bow even just a little out of shame. You’ve dragged him to the nearest empty room and while he would’ve teased you about it for any other context, he can’t seem to do it now when you look at him in disgust, even before he gets to open his mouth.

“What was that, Yoongi?!” you fume, standing by the door as you keep your voice hushed.

It’s almost poetic for Yoongi to see because even when you’re bound to curse him out, even when the both of you are at a turning point (or whatever is left of it to change before it perishes completely), you still put Hwayoung first above all else.

“What was what?” he smiles cheekily, even if it’s apparent that it’s just for show because if anything, it’s Yoongi who knows the most about his own fallacy.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I was playing around?” he offers weakly, shrugging his shoulders to make it seem that he doesn’t care at all about the anger you’ve reserved specifically for him; as if he’s not trying to buy time to prolong what could be the last time he’ll ever see you outside of work.

“That was nothing, Yoongi. What Hwayoung said meant nothing,” you grit, your fists balled to your sides as you try not to let your mind drift to the fact that you had confronted Yoongi first before comforting your own husband. “She’s a kid and she just got confused.”

There’s only silence between the two of you, and Yoongi wants to stay in it.

Yoongi wants to consume the dead air if it means that he won’t be backed into a corner and forced to take all the hits that Jungkook’s reality – which are his dreams— could throw to his face.

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know,” he murmurs lowly yet for some odd reason, Yoongi still refuses to bend his head.

The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t feel regret at all. Out of all the times he could ever feel it, he doesn’t feel it now, even when the supposed love of his life wants to banish him out forever.

“Then why do you look happy about it?” you seethe. “Why the hell did you look happy when Hwayoung called you her dad?”

“Because I was,” Yoongi smiles so tightly, his skin buckles under the pressure — come to think of it, his eyes almost feel like they’re stinging. “Do you want me to lie?”

“It would be better if you do,” you retort without even thinking, the tremble of your bottom lip only goading Yoongi further.

Yoongi stands before you, proud yet unwilling, as he serves as the largest and longest milestone of how far you’ve come in your career with his unrequited love for you as the barometer.

“Oh,” he reacts, his face falling before his throat tightens impossibly. Yoongi keeps nodding his head madly, the pricking of tears in his eyes making him frustrated even more. “Okay. Sure. Y-you know what, let me just lie andsay that I don’t constantly think about how it could’ve been me, o-or how I don’t usually hope that Jungkook completely fucks it up because I could show you that I’ll never do you wrong in the first place!”

“Friends don’t fucking do that, Yoongi!” you clench your teeth, the devastation on your face apparent yet never equivalent to that of Yoongi who’s already nearing his limit.

“I don’t want to be just your friend!” he whispers at you, because while he thinks about Hwayoung in the living room who’s just a few steps away, he also thinks of how scared he is to admit the fact to your face no matter how high he holds his head.

“I don’t think we can’t be friends either,” you sigh breathlessly, the finality to your tone making Yoongi freeze.

Finally, he lowers his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

In an overdone skit that plays in Yoongi’s head, somebody pulls out a slate and yells for the scene to be over, because not only did the whole thing play out in just his head, it was also just a silly dream that a married man with a kid could only have.

In a well-rehearsed, trite, and critically acclaimed skit that Yoongi writes himself but could never act in, you never have to be put in a position wherein you have to put a pause to your friendship with Yoongi. 

The dependency and entanglement the both of you have with each other, no matter in what degree, only proves to be a double-edged sword that hurts you more than it could ever hurt him, and Yoongi knows he can’t ever live with that.

There needs to be distance between you and Yoongi, and he’s never hated that fact more than now, no matter how much he knows it’s needed.

Yoongi knows he’s an intruder.

He’s an intruder who frequently gets to see you at work, he’s an intruder who always gets to loathe Jungkook no matter from what angle, and he’s an intruder who occasionally gets to hold Hwayoung who isn’t his.

( ♡ ) 

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think of having kids until you came along. It had been a long withstanding truth in himself, even with Sora before you, that the thought of having someone of his own flesh and blood was too heavy for him — too much.

Jungkook didn’t entertain the thought of having children until you came into his life and he had decided then and there that there’d never be too much of you for him. 

You weren’t too much for Jungkook when you were still a new couple and had asked him if he’d be open to marrying you one day, even if you were barely a year into your relationship (and your first one at that) that he was yet to have a full grasp of. 

You weren’t too much for him when you had talked his ear off when you were still a rookie, promising him sincerely that you’ll make it big and that soon enough, the both of you would live a comfortable life — provided that you were still in each other’s by that time.

You weren’t too much for the Jungkook of then, your wide-eyed boyfriend who’s a man of few words, and you’re not too much for the Jungkook of now, your husband who feels like he has far too many feelings.

The truth is, Jungkook didn’t even really think that his heart could exist outside of his chest until Hwayoung came along.

There’s this dull, agonizing pain that always squeezes on Jungkook’s chest like clockwork whenever he feels he’s letting his daughter down. There’s bitterness in failure and there’s failure, even when Hwayoung’s tiny hands don’t seek his when they’re walking side by side, or when she’s not as enthusiastic about her meals like how he had been when preparing them–

Or even when Hwayoung mistakes Yoongi for her dad.

“This shirt?” Hwayoung asks, interrupting his inner turmoil as she points to a shirt of his from high school. She has a whole drawer filled with yours and Jungkook’s old clothes for sleep shirts, the giddy smile on her face as she awaits for approval making Jungkook almost forget everything. (Read: almost)

“You can choose any shirt you want, Young-ie,” he answers, his eyes only half-lidded and just a whisper close to stinging with tears. The exhaustion in his voice is practically inseparable from the gutting feeling of his full-time work as a dad for a little more than two years, being mistaken for Yoongi’s part-time favor as a godfather for barely two weeks and then some.

Jungkook’s hands immediately twitch at his sides when Hwayoung walks towards him and stumbles for the slightest second, the brief hiccup on his heart reminding him that he’ll be attuned to her no matter what — even if his daughter mistakes him for a stranger.

He knows the shit that the elders say about letting children fall. He has the script memorized by now and he knows the annoyance that blooms in him routinely when he gets unsolicited advice. 

Jungkook knows it all, and he knows that eventually, Hwayoung would get hurt and he won’t be able to do anything about it. Just like how she can hurt him, someway and somehow along the line (maybe she’ll call Yoongi appa again), and how he won’t know what to do with himself should that time come.

Tonight isn’t the time.

“Help, appa.”

“Okay,” he obliges. “I’m here,” Jungkook utters, ironically refusing to call himself the title that he wants Hwayoung to keep only for him; not for Yoongi, not for your manager, and not for the men that constantly pine after you even when they know fully that Jungkook’s in the picture.

Your husband knows greed and he hates it, because it had been in the form of Yoongi briefly smirking when Hwayoung called him appa that time.

Jungkook knows greed and is well-acquainted, because his fist is scuffed and Yoongi’s number is blocked. 

He knows greed and whatever indomitable power that puts a brake to his rage right when it’s about to pour over, because he had punched the brick wall in the patio instead of Yoongi to blow off steam, and because he has the mind to not taunt Yoongi with a complete family picture right after you distanced yourself away from him.

“I’m sorry, Young-ie. Mama and I are sorry to put you through that, okay?” he murmurs to her ear like it’s only their little secret for them to hear, the unbridled wonder that lingers in his daughter’s eyes enough to placate him that everything’s okay between them tonight.

( ♡ ) 

To wake up in the same bed as Jungkook and Hwayoung after so long makes your heart swell.

Your heart swells, not just with pride, but with a feeling you can’t ever put a name to. You’re more than content enough to see Hwayoung cuddled up to Jungkook and the mess of their hair tangled in between, but even more, you’re filled with a strange yearning that you don’t want them to stay that way.

You want more of them in a way that you’re overwhelmed, just by thinking that they’re the closest you could ever have to feeling immortal in this life. Not everything is completely back into place like they once were, but oddly enough, neither you and Jungkook are actively trying to replicate the old times. 

“You sure you’ll do the groceries alone this time?” you ask Jungkook for the third time, also receiving his third consecutive playful eye roll as he packs Hwayoung’s bag for you.

“Yes, ma’am. Just go with the princess and look at playschools,” he hums, ruffling your daughter’s hair that you spent a good ten minutes on. “If I come with, I fear I’ll already cry just by thinking Young-ie’s growing up.”

“She is growing-…”

“Can’t hear you!” he hollers as he backs out from the driveway, the smile on his face incomparable because he woke up with the thought that you did.

Jungkook wants more of you and Hwayoung, not because he just wants to return your unspoken sentiment, but because he figures that no amount of time or space will ever be enough if it’s the both of you that hold it.

It’s nice to be back to a somewhat normal routine. With your work finished (and all that is left is for the publicity to ramp up) after having spent so much time on it, you immediately resign yourself to the fixed routine you’ve been dying to get back on.

You’ve almost forgotten just how chaotic a supposedly mundane breakfast could be for a family of three, seeing to it that Jungkook’s packed lunches had grown on you to the point that even having your own plate on the dining table felt weird.

You’ve almost forgotten just how liberating it felt to walk outside with Hwayoung (despite having to put on masks and caps on for animosity) without having to worry how much time you have left before shooting starts again, considering that your daughter doesn’t even regard you for the actress that you are.

Hwayoung pulls your hand and walks ahead of you, and you let her. She’s small and unyielding, even if she pulls you with the equivalent of a mini Jungkook’s strength.

Your daughter walks ahead of you and you don’t mind because you rarely ever get to see her in the sunlight wearing the dresses that Jungkook buys even if there aren’t any sales going on (you’re trying to get him to curb his shopping addiction), as opposed to her being bundled up in pajamas, sitting on your lap in your trailer under studio lights.

Hwayoung has the strength that only a child of yours and Jungkook’s could ever possess, because while you freeze in your tracks upon seeing a familiar face as soon as you open the glass doors to the playschool you were about to scope out, Hwayoung only looks at you and the woman in front with a smile.

“Y/N, is that you?”

“Sora,” you exhale, the surprise probably evident on your face because it takes a solid second for you to register her presence. “Hi.”

Sora’s even prettier in person (not that she was ever ugly in the first place) than the beauty she was on the picture you’ve seen of her and Jungkook, her genuine smile unmistakeable because she looks like light itself.

You get why Jungkook had fallen for her, and while there’s nothing about now to blame him for, you can’t understand either why Sora’s absolutely ecstatic to see her ex-boyfriend’s wife.

“She’s my daughter,” you belatedly add after finally moving on from being starstruck, putting a reassuring hand on Hwayoung’s back (who doesn’t need it anyway because she’s more at ease right now than you are) as you smile. “Say hi, baby.”

Sora gasps in awe, and while you appreciate her politeness in not assuming anything about Hwayoung before you introduced her yourself, the curious, baser part of you wonders if she thinks about you and what she could’ve been–

If Sora thinks about you as much as you do with her whenever she fights with her partner, or if she ever thinks about the lingering insecurity that comes with being a lover in general. 

“She’s an absolute sweetheart! She looks so much like you.”

“She does?” you beam, completely surprised at her words. You’re already surprised about Sora in general along with her unexpected enthusiasm, but you’re even more shocked at her sincere interest. “A lot of family and friends say that she looks like Jungkook more.”

“I mean they do say that soulmates will look alike at one point,” she shrugs playfully, head tilting as she waves to Hwayoung while you digest her words.

You didn’t think Jungkook’s past would be this kind no matter how much it had hurt you before.

You feel guilty for having expected a confrontation of some sort, the slight paranoia that had creeped on you before completely dissipating the longer that you look at Sora. She looks at ease and it’s contagious, the soft smile on her face extending up to her eyes when she sees your gaze lingering at the hand on her belly.

“Oh, yeah. I’m expecting,” she announces excitedly, cheerfully, as if you’re childhood friends and go to brunch every Sunday — as if you’re close enough for her to spread her joy with.

“Congrats, Sora,” you grin, extending your hand to gently hold her arm in celebration.

You had insisted again and again to yourself that Sora’s no one to you; that she’s a blip in Jungkook’s radar that lasted for years and came before you. You had let the idea of her consume you fully to the point that her kindness takes you aback.

You can’t blame Sora, and she can’t blame you either. Somewhere along Jungkook’s mosaic he’s made for himself, she lingers in there as a stray piece that fits no matter the pattern. It’s irrevocable and only natural for your husband to be an accumulation of everything and everyone he’s ever loved, and while you know that you and your daughter occupy most of it, you can’t ever erase Sora from existence.

You want to ask who’s the dad with the most inconspicuous tone you could ever possess. 

You want to ask her how she’s been and how things went with her partner during the last time that she and Jungkook had celebrated their anniversary as exes. 

You want to ask Sora about her cousin and maybe even joke about how chaos must probably run in her bloodline.

You want to ask Sora about hundreds of things and hold her accountable for the sleepless nights she’s costed you and your family, but you hold yourself back — not only because it’s the right thing to do, but because everything had already worked out in the end. Sora’s already in the past and you want her to stay there, even if you have the opportunity to get the answers you’ve only used to pray for.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it’s a little too late to say it, but I really am,” she murmurs after some time of only you and her silently watching Hwayoung talk to another kid, the sincerity in her eyes evident even if she holds her head low before you.

The closure you could only ever ask for whenever your heart hurt the most, comes to you when you feel that you’re at your lightest.

( ♡ ) 

True to your word, you don’t let Jungkook attend your press conference.

There’s no point in denying that you do need Jungkook here with you, but there’s no denying either that needing him and wanting him to be here are two different things.

You’re oddly reminiscent of the time that you had been in this position, and even if the memory’s bittersweet, the rational and realistic part of your brain could only think that it’s reasonable to miss Jungkook despite barring him from here. This is your highest peak after all, and it’s only normal for you to be nervous.

It’s normal for you to be nervous despite telling the staff that you’re going to keep the wedding ring on your finger throughout the entire thing. It’s entirely reasonable for you to be jittery at the possibility of being asked about your family, no matter how far-fetched the queries could be from the actual movie at hand.

It’s only okay for you to feel that trepidation in your stomach even if everything in your life, at the moment, is at your favor.

The room’s quiet with only you and Jimin in it, and without the buffer of Hwayoung that laughs through everything that he says, the one-on-one that you have with your manager reminds you of the talk you had to have when the rumors about you and Yoongi broke out.

Jimin has more years and experiences under his belt now, but with the way he talks to you, it feels as if it’s neither of you are experienced; that the both of you are complete beginners who’d like to think that the only way to go is up, and that a tiny irregularity could instantly make everything you’ve built to collapse.

The talk about Eunsu has been a long time coming, and Jimin wants to let you know now when there’s nobody else — when you’re reminded that you have everything to both gain and lose.

“I’ve managed to put a lid on it for the meantime,” he clears his throat, looking at your reflection in the mirror as he puts on your microphone delicately. “I don’t know for how long though.”

Your gaze looks blank, almost unreadable to the untrained eye, yet Jimin knows that there’s a weight to it. Unlike all the brush-ins you’ve ever had with issues before, this is the first time that it had ever hit home and everything that ever mattered to you.

He could only imagine the weight of what it must feel like to be you; of how heavy it must be to be the one to take everything in stride.

“It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you,” you murmur, looking down on your lap as you try to fight the frown that comes with the realization that you’ve been used to having Hwayoung on it.

“Y/N,” he tuts, his tone stern yet familiar.

“Hmm?” you ask while you’re in a daze, letting yourself stare at a spot on the wall that could only hold your attention for so long. You can’t erase it as much as you can’t avoid this conversation with Jimin, and even more, you can’t avoid the eventual turbulence you’ll be subjecting your family to once everything goes public.

There’s an innate guilt that comes with being a wife and a mother, you figure. It’s your first time being both and with it comes the sense of doom; it’s not the morbid type of ruination, but rather, it’s the anxiousness that comes with knowing you don’t only have yourself to look after.

“What Eunsu did to Jungkook— to your family, even-…”

“I know,” you interrupt, nodding fervently to cut the conversation short, except Jimin doesn’t fold.

“I know you’re protecting them. I know you’re thinking about Hwayoung the most,” Jimin sighs. “But you wanting to protect them also means that you’re protecting Eunsu even if it isn’t your intention,” he murmurs, squeezing your shoulder gently. “The news coming out about her won’t be the worst thing in the world.”

The same two people that you’re protecting, one of them more innocent and clueless than the other yet just as loving, give you complacency amidst your unease.

( ♡ )

You always insisted on having a big bed.

Jungkook remembers your insistence on having a big bed when the two of you moved in together and slowly started furnishing your home before your wedding. Your preferences didn’t exactly clash his because while you mostly took care of the budget and he took care of the aesthetics, there would almost always be common ground. Almost.

Additionally, you also remember Jungkook’s gratefulness for your stubbornness towards having a big bed because realistically, he can’t ever picture himself lying down on a deluxe standard bed with a toddler between the two of you.

The maintenance for the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed that you had pleaded him for (and even made a whole presentation about defending your case) with Hwayoung in the picture now is even more troublesome. The quest for bedsheets that are hypoallergenic, extremely soft and comfortable, have a neutral, classic, yet easily-maintainable design, and toddler-proof simultaneously seems to be never-ending.

Jungkook can’t sleep at all sometimes. Even when the airconditioning in the room is at a perfect temperature, his comforter is on his person and not on the other side of the bed by your doing, his daughter’s hair isn’t in his mouth, and his cat’s humongous built isn’t blocking his passage of air, there’s days wherein Jungkook can’t put himself to sleep.

In one way or another, it’s always the ache and worry that manifests in his chest for the next day. He keeps wondering about tomorrow’s meals and the probability of Hwayoung throwing a tantrum. He keeps wondering if there’s going to be a wild curveball that somebody will throw at you tomorrow, and how fast he can get to you should that happen.

Jungkook’s no stranger to sleepless nights. He’s used to analyzing one unfavorable context after another to scare himself into being awake so he can’t get nightmares when he eventually goes to sleep.

To wake your husband up just because you couldn’t sleep yourself is a menial task that you finally talk yourself into doing, the little shake that you give Jungkook on his shoulders enough to make him jolt awake.

“Kook, wake up.”

“What, what-…? What is it?” he darts up groggily, eyes barely adjusted to the dim light you’ve set the room to. Jungkook’s lost to why you even woke him up when Hwayoung’s out like a log, but he doesn’t question you on it — instead, he gently carries his daughter to occupy his warm spot on the bed, just so he could crawl his way to the middle to listen to you.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, sleepily propping himself up with a pillow as he tries to blink the sleep away from his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t even dare to take a peek at the alarm clock because all he knows is that you’re awake and you also want him to be, so he doesn’t complain.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“Let’s fight,” you whisper, leaning your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

Your husband could only rub his eyes tiredly, the yawn that escapes him making his entire body shake. “Huh? Right now?” he clarifies, the sleepy pout on his lips only highlighting how wide and docile his eyes are for you at the moment.

“Come on. Let’s fight,” you half-heartedly offer, bumping your head to his.

Your husband only stays silent, putting a hand up to your forehead to check for a fever. 

Jungkook only yawns once again, his sluggishness being infectious to the point that you suppress your own by burying your face to his neck.

“Can we like, fight in the morning or something?” he tries to compromise, fully serious about a half-baked joke you woke him up for.

Jungkook’s come a long way. He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him. He’s this now, so willing to go with your every whim that if you want to have a fight with him at two in the morning, he’ll rub the sleep out of his eyes and let you rest on his shoulder if ever you were being serious.

You kiss your husband on the lips, the love-drunk smile that he gives you afterward making you snort.

Your king-sized bed is a mess. Somewhere by the end of your foot, there’s Hwayoung’s pink crayon that she insists on holding to sleep. Somewhere by the tips of Jungkook’s hair, there’s Miso’s fur kept together with his daughter’s hair clip because she didn’t want to go to sleep without putting it on him.

Jungkook, your husband who’s clad in a shirt of yours with too many holes on it because of his daughter’s safety scissors and his cat’s claws, hugs you to his chest in silence.

You think about how you can’t tell when the news about Eunsu is going to release, while Jungkook sneakily tries to uncover your sock-covered foot with his own because he lost one of his socks while sleeping and wanted to be even.

You think about how the Academy nominees are going to be revealed in a week, while your husband says out loud his grocery list for the week while randomly staring off into space every ten seconds.

You think about Hwayoung attending playschool in a matter of months, while your husband internally plays rock, paper, scissors with himself as he waits for you to gather your thoughts.

You think about you and Jungkook and whatever comes with, for, and between you while he hugs you under the dim lights.

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

“What if it only gets brutal from here on out, Jungkook? What do I do?” you murmur, looking up at him.

“Who says it has to be brutal?” Jungkook laughs, his voice bouncing out into the space as if you’re in a newly-built house with barely any furniture. 

Jungkook’s laughter is still joyous and loud, because even if Jungkook’s heart is a newly-built house, his happiness still reverberates the more it settles into the ground and comes closer to its roots; closer to you.

“We’ll keep up.”

[sundaycentric]

⌢  ⌢ yandere choso x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, sfw, headcanons, stalking, choso is weird idk, dependency?, mentions of babytrapping, mahito jumps u btw, mahito warning, general obsessive and possessive behavior, possibly ooc?? idk i wrote this for my own pleasure ... 1.3k words

— Choso has only cared about 3 people in his life. His late brothers, and his alive half-one. Not even his "colleagues" that he has to work closely with on their schemes. Outside of his family, nobody else mattered. At least, that's how it was. Choso doesn't consider you family, so why is it that he seems to care so much about you? It angers him. Has he lost loyalty to his brothers?

Choso tended to avoid you at first, paying you no mind like the rest that surrounded him. The most attention he'd allow himself to give you is subtle glances or the occasional hand when you needed help. Nothing more, as you were nothing to him. Except you were.

Choso realized his feelings, despite not being able to tell exactly what they were, pretty quickly. The weird beating of his heart when you were around, how his hands got shaky, and how he could feel the sweat trickle down his neck as he spoke to you, nervous that you wouldn't approve of him somehow. He became a bit more conscious around you. He wanted you to like him.

Choso thought these weird, firstly platonic feelings towards you were because you were family. Perhaps Itadori wasn't his only half-sibling. However, thinking about it like that made Choso feel awfully weird. You weren't his family, as it made his stomach churn to think of you as such. So, what were you then?

.

.

.

— Choso didn't care what happened to the people of Shibuya during that incident. When planning it out with the other curses, he felt no sympathy or worry for the people who would be present. Yet, upon hearing that you could possibly be in Shibuya on the day on the attack, Choso almost completely forgot about everything else.

Choso had separated from the others to look for Itadori, to try and get his revenge. While walking around Shibuya, he passed many of the trapped people within the veil. They spoke in hushed, worried whispers which Choso paid no attention to. Their conversations did not matter to him, who was focused on something else already.

Choso then heard your name fall from someone's lips. The voice sounded familiar. He turned around to verify, and it was one of your friends. Choso had taken a liking to 'watching' you as you went about your day, so it was no trouble recognizing this person you frequently saw and spoke with. Suddenly, he started paying a bit more attention to the conversation.

Choso listened as the person spoke. He knew he was wasting his time he could be using to search for Itadori, but he couldn't bring himself to move. From what he heard, you might be in Shibuya right now, specifically in a location near the veil. Without a second thought, Choso set off in another direction.

— Choso felt pure rage like this only once before in his life: when he found out that his brothers were dead. He had made it to the edge of the veil to see Mahito toying with you. It made Choso sick to even see you crying for a split second. Without thinking, he stepped in and used his curse technique to force Mahito to step back.

Choso looked furious. His eyes furrowed, brows pulled down in a sharp V. His fists shakily clenched onto your clothes, pulling you up into his grasp. All the while, his shrunken pupils glared at the curse in front of him. A few drops of blood fell onto you from the mark on his nose. Choso made no effort to clean it.

Choso frowned even deeper as Mahito laughed, questioning his behavior. He gritted his teeth together, the grinding sound rough. He wasted no time in telling Mahito off, claiming that you were his and that Mahito needed to go somewhere else. Mahito only looked confused since Choso seemed so occupied with you, what about hunting Itadori down?

Choso breathed a deep sigh of relief as Mahito left, deciding that this wasn't worth his time. After all, he needed to find his natural enemy before Jogo did. Choso watched as Mahito skipped away before looking back at you. How shaken you were, some stray tears still dripping down your cheeks. You looked so fragile, like a doll. Choso, after seeing you almost get into serious trouble, decided then that you were too weak to be out on your own. He'd protect you now, and he wouldn't fail loosing you as well.

— Choso lovingly ran his hands through your hair, the fingers playing with your locks. He had you resting in his lap, consoling you and making sure to wipe every tear that formed at your waterline. He might not know exactly what he feels, but he knows that protecting you is just as important as protecting his brothers.

Choso wouldn't allow you out of his grasp, let alone his sight. However, you are a bit confused because this man is a stranger, but he did save your life. You could tell he was strong, so it was best to stay with him. He tried to be soothing and gentle as well, but it was a bit difficult for him: Choso knew humans were more fragile than curses, and he didn't want to get too happy to finally be in contact with you.

Choso noticed that you began to calm down as he petted your hair, but you were still shaken. He couldn't blame you: Mahito was terrifyingly sadistic. However, he was glad he was able to intervene before things spiraled. He gently pushed your head against his chest, cradling you as he would do to a young child.

Choso began to speak, trying to calm your nerves even more. He apologized for Mahito, reassured you were safe, and even made some subtle comments about some things you liked. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that he shouldn't know those things since you had bigger issues to worry about. Like your friend, who Choso overhead and you knew was in Shibuya.

— Choso blankly stared at you when you inquired about your friend's whereabouts. He shook his head before shushing you. Your friend was in the main building, there was little likelihood of their survival. But why did that matter to you? They weren't your family. Choso's chest felt weird. You shouldn't care about your late friend. You are here with Choso right now. Why are you worrying about another?

Choso felt jealous. Light jealousy, but still jealousy. That's when it finally clicked for him. No, you weren't family. But you were his. When he said you were his to Mahito, he hadn't even realized what he said. However, now he finally realized what he said, and what it meant. He loved you.

Love was such a strange concept. He stared down at you, his hand playing with your hair without thinking. He was in love, with you. His grip on you got slightly more tight as his thoughts wandered. He had saved your life. Did you love him back for that?

If you didn't, that'd be okay. Choso prefers if you love him back, but you'd learn to either way. He needed you. You and his family were what he loved. But what if you and him had a family too? He knew his mind was going too far too soon, but he couldn't shake the idea of having kids with you. Maybe that'd be another way to get you to stay. That sounded like a good idea.

— You gazed up to Choso, who had gone unresponsive while thinking. You frowned slightly, a bit worried. Gently, you tapped him, and he seemed to wake back up. He stared at you silently for a few more moments before fully hugging you. His mouth was close to your ear, hot breath tickling you, "You'll be perfect."

[walpu]

hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!

THANK YOUUUUU

Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛

being in a relationship with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta

can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well

Aventurine

It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.

Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"

Pathetic. /affectionally.

But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.

While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually.

It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.

Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.

He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.

Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.

Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.

Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.

In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.

Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.

Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.

Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.

If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.

As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.

Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.

And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.

So touch-starved it's unreal.

Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.

Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.

It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.

Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.

Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.

[acid-ixx]

Dear author,

I love your batfam series SO MUCH. I like the way you describe the feelings, how you use the words, how the depression of Y/N was shown, and the thinking of Batfam when they realize that Y/N had been heavily neglectful. Every time I read this series again, I still feel the hurtful of it and it actually makes me cry a lot T.T. And I love that feeling. And the series makes me want to draw, even though I’m not good at drawing.

The first panel, I draw Y/N in my thoughts ( sorry if you feel uncomfortable) and Conner. This one is inspired from a manga called “ Veil”.

The second one, I draw some scenes from chapter 3 (I tried to draw the ways Y/N calmed themselves down, but I couldn’t 😭).

From your series, I’ve thought about ABO au, where Y/N is a beta, they can’t be marked ; so the yanderes ( romantic one) are more yandere, because they know that Y/N never belong to anyone.

Last thing to say, I VERY VERY VERY LOVE your batfam series and this is one of the greatest fics of Batfam I’ve ever read. I also very admire your hardworking and your inspiration about this series. But I hope that you also stay healthy because I saw that you’re very productive ( how you can write so fast but still focus on the details TvT). No words can reveal the love in my heart to your series.

Sorry if I either bother you or my bad grammar ( English not my native language, this is also the first time I do this ). Thank you so much because spending your time reading this piece of mine. I just want to express my feelings and thoughts about your fic. Hope you have a good day!!!<333333

— masterlist !

a/n: the topic of a/b/o is written under this post. anyways, this comic panel is so absolutely brilliant and breathtaking omg... i love all the thoughts u have compiled here and i'm so sorry I wasn't able to reply to this quick enough 😭 but i appreciate this sm !! "even tho im not good at drawing" YET U SENT ME THIS !! i absolutely love everything about this don't say ur not good at drawing bec u are 😡

so like i said, don't be sorry if u draw the reader as female bec i portrayed them as gn so anyone can interpret them as any gender and it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all as long as i'm the one not being misgendered. anyways, veil is actually one of my fave mangas and if u ask me, i could say your relationship with conner is pretty much akin to that of veil's! which means conner is very touchy-feely with you and is uncaring of their status as a wayne and would rather... have you take his last name very soon, if you know what i mean hehe.

the second scene is absolutely heartbreaking even for me, especially the panel where your mom tries to comfort you by telling you it's all alright made my heart ache real badly because that's probably the last time you have experienced; the love of a parent that's soon taken away from you. your mom's last words would be reassurance, one that both comforts and disturbs you as the memory repeats itself over and over in you head like a broken record </3

and the abo au, for me personally (tho i never have written for it) is just going to threaten more angst with your family because not even your pack is willing to take you in and care for you. despite your hopes due to being a beta unlike your family who are comprised of strong alphas and resilient omegas, you are merely average in their eyes probably, average enough to be forgotten and discarded by a pack you had thought would take you in for you must be a misfit just like them.

yet despite the pain you had to endure for feeling unloved as a beta, it would also deepen your potential with conner as your love interest because although you could never be claimed by any past sweethearts, conner would always, and i mean always make a show that he loves you in a deeper, more symbolical way. he may not be able to mark you as your alpha, but a ring and an always protective hold on your waist paired with his scent and pheromones engraved into every piece of your clothing is enough to tell everyone to "fuck off, this one's mine."

and tysm for loving my fanfic 😭 even tho i have written it impulsively, look where it got now !! yes i am very productive but this is a mere product of my attention span and hyperfixations towards the dc storyline and no my health is very bad but trust me it's not from writing, it's more from me just being very ill every single day but im trying to take care of myself <33

[hannieehaee]

Can you please make a seventeen reaction if a saesang hurt their s/o? lysm btw💙

a sasaeng hurting their s/o

content: mentions of an ambiguous attack on the reader (u can assume it was something like pulling at reader's arm/hair or a simple slap/punch), anger from the members, angst, fluff (kinda??), etc.

wc: 829

a/n: ily <33 i was kinda conflicted on this bc im not sure whether theyd react in an idol fashion in which they just kind of let their managers handle it or if theyd handle it themselves so i went for a mixture

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's super protective over his members, which also translates over to all his loved ones. i think he would get immediately exasperated and get all up on whoever dared hurt you, fan or not. if things got physical, he'd get physical too. however, he'd try to keep things civilized.

jeonghan -

he'd let his managers handle the sasaeng, knowing that despite how much he'd like to protect you on his own, head on, he had a lot of limitations as an idol. he'd feel extremely guilty about it and would beat himself up over it for a while. would do everything he could to make you feel protected and taken care of (even more than he already did) from then on.

joshua -

he'd be unfiltered in his arguing and his anger towards the aggressor. he wouldnt get aggressive or anything, but the venom in his eyes would be enough for a person to drop dead. would go as far as try to get the authorities involved right in that moment, promising that he'd be pressing charges on your behalf. when it came to you, he'd need you to calm him down lol.

jun -

he's so used to being mobbed and to people injuring themselves due to this that he wouldn't even be surprised at this happening. this wouldnt mean that he wouldn't be insanely angry though lmao. he'd curse them out in chinese and start a whole scene if necessary. this person was not going to leave this situation unscathed.

soonyoung -

his emotions usually take over him very easily and i believe in such an instance anger would show clearly in his demeanor. he'd protectively hold you behind him as he cursed and antagonized the sasaeng while his managers attempted to alleviate the situation. there would be anger in his eyes that you'd never seen before, but it'd turn into worry and regret as soon as he met your eyes.

wonwoo -

usually when he's being crowded or fans are too close, his body language seems closed off and unwelcoming to all the unwarranted attention, but in this instance i think his fight or flight mode would activate, making him physically place himself between you and the aggressor. rare instance in which anyone would see wonwoo genuinely angry.

jihoon -

he'd be too shocked to react, only realizing what had happened after the fact. kinda out of character, but i think he'd have to be held back from taking matters into his own hands. would be furious at the blatant disrespect to both you and him. how could a fan ever lay hand on you? he'd remain disappointed in his fandom for a while, keeping himself (and you) away from the limelight for a short period of time.

seokmin -

for once in his life, the only emotion taking over him was pure unfiltered anger. BUT he would 100% prioritize checking in on you and keeping his hands and eyes on you to make sure you were okay. would let his managers take care of the situation and simply stare down the perpetrator with venom in his eyes. would be extremely apologetic to you afterwards and express guilt over and over.

mingyu -

he's shown many times before he's not afraid to tell fans to mind their boundaries before, so i think that in a serious situation in which you were being put in danger, he'd become extremely serious to a scary extent. he would not get physical or anything like that, but he'd use his words and stance to intimidate the crazed fan.

minghao -

extremely serious and put off. the moment someone laid hands on you, his body would take control of itself and put himself between you and any danger. he'd yell and curse at whoever dared cross such a boundary and disrespect both you and him in such a way. he'd hold certain disdain for fans crossing boundaries from then on.

seungkwan -

he's too polite and media trained to actually participate in the altercation, but anyone could see the genuine anger trying to filter out of him as he and his body guards tried to deal with the situation. his first priority would be you and making sure you weren't too hurt.

vernon -

he wouldve been too shocked in the moment to do anything, but as soon as the short-lived attack ended and his managers were already apprehending the perpetrator, he'd scoff and curse at whoever hurt you. there would be this unknown craze in his eyes indicating uncharacteristic anger that could only ever be provoked by such a situation.

chan -

insanely angry and frustrated at the situation. in an ideal world, he'd take care of this situation on his own, proving to you that he'd never let anyone hurt you. however, he knew that the appropriate thing to do would be to let his managers apprehend the aggressor while he checked in on you and made sure you were okay and as far away from the situation as possible.

[itoshi-s]

wld u have any input on perv!reo w an innocent/oblivious reader??

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

*.✧ wc: 10.1k. nsfw & dark content / 17+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, characters are 18+ (but meet as teenagers), dub-con, slow burn, reo's a whore and a sleaze, manipulation, corruption, slight obsessive behavior, misuse of power (reader sees reo as kind of a brotherly figure), cunnilingus, reo's needy, mentions of taking unsolicited sex pics, panty stealing. // notes: reo is either a perv or a sub and there's no in between ! reo fuckers enjoy (☆ω☆)

the first time reo sees you, he’s barely fourteen and  it’s in his family home, sitting straight in your seat at the dining table.

you look gorgeous with your big, curious eyes, long lashes, and a lip balm giving your pout a pink sheen. you’re different from all the other girls he’s seen around at school - you don’t try to look older, and actually look your age. a nice change for once. he steals a few glances upon your way from his seat diagonally across, fork digging into the tender steak on his plate. it was nice for a change to not be the only teen at the table, and actually, it was a bit surprising too. your parents were frequent guests at his house, due to the many links between their company and mikage corp, but this was the first time you tagged along. actually, reo doesn’t think he’s ever heard them mention having a daughter - but then again, his head is always anywhere but here, at the table, when the adults discuss over business details and joke around topics that make his head ache and confusion settle on his features.

“what about you, love? got any plans for the future?” reo moves his eyes from his glass of juice to his mother upon hearing her address you. she’s so sweet, just like always. 

you blink once, twice, and nod quickly, “oh- oh, yes, actually. i want to help people.” you beam, the smile you’re sporting making your cheeks plump and full. “maybe, um, set up a foundation, or something? i dunno, like the one that organized the ball a week ago, right papa?”

reo has to hold back a roll of his eyes, the interest you first sparked in him long gone. now this was something he’s heard from about every other girl he knows - the other option either being fashion or a family company heir, just like him. you sound a bit clueless, too, the sheepish tone of your voice making you seem even more childish. (not like he’s grown up, of course, but then again, you’re even worse.) 

despite how cute you are that day, reo doesn’t feel any interest in you whatsoever. the reason behind why you looked so innocent compared to his other friends, who already started to experiment with makeup and more mature clothing, doesn’t make it any easier to like you either. you are a year younger, and from what his mother tells him once you leave, your parents are very strict on keeping you unscathed by the pressure social media and society puts on young girls. now the thought of you hanging out at his place more often sounds so nohow, it doesn’t even make him excited to finally have some company. you seem immature and a bit naive, and while reo’s anything but aloof, he doubts that he’ll ever get along with you.

or, at least, so he thinks after the night you first meet. as expected, you start coming over to his place more often, now that a brand new deal between your families is about to be signed. while your parents discuss future plans over wine, reo is shocked to hear that for once, maybe he can show you around the house instead of sitting next to them and getting familiar with the investments. 

you’re not actually that insufferable, reo realizes after several long hours of you hanging out together in his room. you have an older brother that’s a professional volleyball player now, and he sees the longing in your eyes when you mention him playing overseas. it sparks his interest, how your brother began his career when he was just about his age - he had everything a teenage boy could ever dream of, and yet, he’d rather move to the other side of the world to chase a dream that didn’t gave him any certainty. the more you talk, the softer and less infantile you seem - reo realizes that you actually do know a lot about worldwide humanitarian issues, a lot more than any other kid your age. he listens intently as you tell him about the things you like to do after school, about the many hobbies your parents put you on, and somehow, you manage to find a common ground. you talk and game and laugh for hours, until the night falls and your mum comes up to reo’s room to collect you. 

reo gives you a little wave goodbye, and from now on looks forward to your visits - for a while.

years pass by, and while reo manages to keep up his spot on top of his every class, all while meeting up with friends and traveling the world with his parents, you just seem… the same. yeah, you got smarter - a scholarship from the states being the best proof - and prettier, too, which reo is sure other boys notice as well. but you still have this little dreamy edge to you, your laugh all too high pitched and random at times, and you still blush profusely whenever a boy comes anywhere near. you’re still nice, but just not as fun to be around; you're different, than him and the other girls he knows and starts to surround himself with. it’s not your fault either, as reo figures it must be your parents keeping you away from all the opportunities - better or worse - that teenagery has to offer. you’re busy with the scholarship now, thinking of going on a student exchange to the usa, even, and while reo sees it as praiseworthy, you two just seem to lose the common language you once had. 

second year of highschool comes by, and you’re merely just a thought at the very back of reo’s head when he meets nagi. the two get along as if they’ve known each other their whole lives, even though seishiro needs a little (uh, maybe a bit bigger) push, and the friendship and newly found passion about football gets reo going. he doesn’t even see you around too often anymore, considering he’s barely at home after school, and even if he is, the time is spent on arguing with his parents. the only times he remembers about you is when you’re brought up by his father - a prime example of how one should take advantage of the privileges they were born into, instead of picking up a worthless dream. he knows you’ve got nothing to do with this, and yet still, the thought of you makes reo hurl.

reo doesn’t really miss you a lot during his time at blue lock - and he doesn’t think it’s anything harsh, considering you were barely good friends and only ever hung out when your parents did, and it was still long years ago, back before you two even properly hit puberty. there’s enough going on during the selections to keep his mind busy and muscles taut with stress - he doesn’t need any interruptions in getting to the top and so, the thought of you is pushed to the very back of his mind. it only ever changes the day of the u20 match, when the buzz of the blue lock’s team victory is still making his skin crawl and blood rush. he’s tired, his legs feel like jelly, and yet, he still makes out the familiar voice from the front row stands as he goes to leave to the locker room.

“reo!” he turns his head upon his name being called out, brows furrowed as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. he recognizes the sing-song voice, but the memory is a bit blurry as violet eyes scan through the crowd and eventually fall upon the hand vigorously waving around - moving down, they lock with your bright orbs, a vibrant grin on your lips.

to say that he’s surprised to see you is an understatement - he takes a quick glance around you to check if you’re there with your parents, but he sees that you’re in fact alone. must’ve been your idea now, wasn’t it? reo jogs over to the barriers, and only after closing the distance between the two of you does he notice the changes in your appearance that must’ve happened over the past few months. 

he spots the way your features look way more mature now, and how you seem to finally have started to accentuate them with the right makeup. your skin still has the girly glow to it, though, or it might just be the wide smile on your face that’s lighting it up - either way, you definitely look even prettier than the last time reo has seen you, which must’ve been around his sixteenth birthday. 

“you won!” you exclaim happily, leaning against the barriers and reaching a hand out to high-five him once he’s in arms reach. he’s a bit hesitant, but only out of surprise.  “thought they would never bring you out,” you quip, watching reo roll his eyes. geez, thanks. “doesn’t your head hurt from that save?” your dainty fingers touch at reo’s reddened forehead, and it makes a foreign flutter wake in his chest. 

“not really,” he shrugs, letting you ruffle his hair slightly. were you really that touchy with him these few years ago, back when you were children? he can’t recall. “what’re you doing here anyway?” he rubs at his eye, the other one glancing up at you curiously. from his spot under the bleachers, he has just the perfect sight of your cleavage - and usually it wouldn’t affect him in any way, but to his surprise, his gaze is met with bare skin. reo has to swallow thickly upon the initial startle, eyes momentarily locked with the gold  necklace that he now remembers you wear even years ago - but this time, it rests right between the valley of your perky breasts, barely visible from the spot where your tits squeeze together. fuck - he knows that puberty can be a blessing sometimes. but could that really be the same you?

your voice brings him back to the present, gaze quickly tearing away from your chest, “i could finally see you play, reo! i never even heard you mention soccer,” you state, voice falling a bit near the end of the sentence. almost as if you regretted the way your friendship turned out. “do you still have the same number?” the question brings a hopeful tilt to your voice, and it makes reo smile a bit. there it is - the same awaiting, sweet sound.

“yeah,” he replies, looking up to lock his eyes with your doe ones. the clumpy, thick mascara on your lashes really does the trick, he thinks as he watches your lips stretch in a smile. “i don’t have my phone on me at blue lock, though - but we will catch up once i’m back, yeah?” now you were not the only one that has undergone a major change throughout the years, and while reo didn’t look all that different, there was definitely a shift in his personality. yeah, he was still real sweet with everyone, barely ever getting into any fights or arguments and staying on good terms with pretty much everybody. he always could have any girl he wanted - could pick and choose from tens of them at school, and then everywhere else he went - and yet, not even one of them grew suspicious of the way he is. not one of his previous girlfriends or the ones he only hung out with once or twice seemed aware of how his eyes naturally rested lower than on their face when they spoke. they only grew giddier at the way his hands would grope at the soft fat of their tits, their hips, squeezing at their bottom in a way that made their head spin - in a way they’ve already heard from their friends, who also got lucky enough to catch reo’s attention. maybe they were also just glad that it was finally their chance, and didn’t give his hungry touches any second thoughts? maybe they really did think that he was just like all the other horny teenagers, buzzing with hormones, and that his long days of practice only spurred him on even more.  sometimes, reo was surprised, even, at how quickly they would respond to his sly texts, a picture attached with no trace of shame. did they ever let the thought of him keeping these pictures linger, or were they really just this dumb?

the more recognition he gets thanks to the blue lock project and neo egoist league, the larger his range of possibilities grows. there’s girls flooding his dm’s, his name being thrown around different thirst tweets, and yet, it’s not like reo’s not used to it already. he's turned eighteen barely a few months before the blue lock project, and so he's already had plenty of time to finally let up all of this pent up tension. he meets up with a few girls during his breaks, spends the night, and is off early morning - with a pair of lace knickers in his back pocket, if he’s lucky (and the girl oblivious enough). some of them don’t even notice the flash going off as they ride him, their back to his face, taking just a little memoir to keep locked under a passworded folder in his gallery - something that he can play back in his mind, when he’s back at the blue lock facility, alone in the showers.

between his little hook ups, he still finds the time to keep his promise - and drives over to your house, which he is a little surprised to find with no sight of you the first time he comes by. “oh, she’s living on her own now! had to move closer to her university.” oh. "she'll be so happy to see you, though, reo! it's been ages since i've seen you, too." to say that he’s shocked by your mother’s words is an understatement - hell, you could even fly a private helicopter to uni each and every day if you only ever wished for it - so did your parents, always so overprotective, really let you move out and start living by yourself? nonetheless, reo is actually kind of content to be hanging out with you again. (the way you carry yourself, so soft and sweet as if your looks weren't enough to fill any guy's thoughts with pure filth, might just be the main reason.) he learns that you got into the university of tokyo on top of the acceptance list and are floored with not only work, but also the uni life that everyone else has been telling you about. ah. so that’s where the sudden change in looks came from, he realizes as you tell him about how happy you were that your best of friends managed to get in with you.

“she’s so cool! i think you would’ve liked her, reo,” you tease, a grin on your lips as you tell him about one of your friends and even go to show him her instagram pictures. he hums, “yeah, she's-" "if only she wasn’t into older guys.” you elbow him in the side with a giggle, and it makes him wonder how to wrap his head around the dissonance you’re giving him.

reo starts to feel less and less surprised with the way you turned out the more you tell him about the girls you befriended in high school, and then the ones you were hanging out with in your sorority house as well. you’ve always been kept in a bubble, as your parents’ greatest treasure - their sweetest little girl, as if you weren’t in your golden age to start experimenting with life and all it had to offer. it was honestly only a matter of time until you slipped away, the blinders your parents wore making them oblivious to your newly born adventurous nature. she’s not like that, he bet they’d say. have you seen her? she’s as innocent as they get! how the hell you managed to stay just that way, reo couldn’t figure out for the life of him. you’re wearing the skimpiest skirts he’s seen on a girl in a long time, your tits spilling out of your top, lashes curled to the heavens and yet, when you look at him, you have the same childish excitement in your doe-like eyes - and it feels as if you haven’t grown at all from when he first met you.

you were never really insufferably dumb to begin with, and reo knows that. your parents made sure you got the greatest education possible and you were a straight A student, keeping interest in many fields - starting from finances and economics, through arts and finishing at high tech. maybe that’s what makes it so appealing and easy to talk to you, spending long hours on bickering and discussing, even though your mind seems so, so much more innocent than his - hell, than any other girl’s your age, too. whenever he slips a dirty joke in the conversation, you frown slightly, a pout on your lips as if asking, what do you mean, reo?, and it doesn’t make any sense to him. yet again - how can that be possible, with the way all of your little friends are carrying themselves?

you start spending more time with each other, considering how close your condo is to the blue lock facility, and it becomes a little routine for him to come right over to your place whenever he gets a few days of break. you spend the time watching tv shows, stuffing your face full of snacks, going to the arcade and gossiping about reo’s teammates or whatever one of your girlfriends did since the last time you two have seen each other.

“m’so happy we’re friends now, reo,” you mumble one night, curled up to his side on the couch, nearly dozing off with some random action movie playing from the flat screen tv. “y’remind me of him so much, yanno?” 

ah, so there it is - the reason behind you always staying hooked to his arm. even though you were coming from a very similar background as him, reo was still a little more experienced in life - having seen more, thanks to the blue lock, among other things - and after all, he was a year older than you, wasn’t he? he carried himself with this confident, yet playful smile all of the time, and made everyone in his company feel warm - very much like your older brother did. thanks to him (or more like your stories about him), reo manages to get a good glimpse at how a sportsman’s life really looks like - how even though your family was so close, his visits happen thrice a year at most, and it leaves you missing him so bad, he even has to comfort you and wipe away your tears on one of your movie marathon nights.

sometimes, it seems like there’s two sides to him. one, that makes every girl’s knees buckle at just one glance; and the other, showcased by a bright grin and giddy behavior. either way, reo doesn’t really think of himself badly. it’s not like he’s doing any of it against the girls’ wishes, isn’t it? some would even consider it a good deed, even, he’s pretty sure, with the way he’s the very first one to be touching them that way, taking their innocence away. the only time he ever starts to feel guilt eating away at his insides is when the same filth spills all over his mind, clouding over his senses whenever you are around.

it’s been a year since the neo egoist league has ended - a year full of you, amongst soccer and other things that tore his mind and body down with exhaustion. movie nights, adventure parks, helping you study, going to frat parties with you, even - cause none of the girls are comin’, reo, please, just this once! - as if he really needed any convincing to come. some of the guys there were his high school friends, he realized, and so the thought of catching up with his old colleagues made the party even more appealing. (not to mention the tens of girls that would kill to have him lick the salt off their tummy, the tequila on his tongue bringing a bitter taste to their mouth as they kissed later - one of his favorite party activities, honestly, considering how hard it made him in his pants.) 

the first time it happens, reo’s by the makeshift bar, chatting up with a friend he used to sit with at chemistry lab as he pours them a drink - and his head lazily tilts to the side upon hearing your voice calling out to him.

“reo!” you sound as excited as always when addressing him, and he has to chuckle at the way you stumble over your own feet as you strut over to his spot by the bar. “reo, we’re- we’re playing beer pong. wanna team up w’me?” 

the amused laughter dies down in his throat as his eyes zero in on your cleavage, the fat of your tits jiggling with each step you hurriedly take towards him. he sees the slight sheen of sweat, watches the way it reflects the neon lights, how it accentuates the glitter of the body spray you put on right before you left the house. reo is glad he has his hand stuck in his pocket, cause now he can quickly fix his hardening dick without making it suspicious - he gives himself a slight squeeze and clears his throat as you approach him.

you smell of coconut, and the scent overwhelms his senses as soon as you press yourself up against him - a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to press a wet kiss to his cheek. “pretty, pretty please? y’know i’ve never ever played it, and if i lose it’ll make me a loser, won’t it now, reo,” you babble on, a laugh leaving your mouth as his friend gives your nose a flick. he must’ve told you something amusing, reo supposes, but the both of you are drowned out as blood thuds in his ears - as it throbs in his pants, cock aching by how ridiculously hard it got at the feeling of you pressed up against him. he feels your tits as they squish against his chest, feels the rumble of your laughter, the flutter of your lashes against his neck-

“‘xcuse me,” he mumbles, hurriedly, and pries your arms off - earning a surprised look from you (and a cute drunken stumble). making his way through the crowd, the smell of spilled liquor and sweat and mixed perfume makes his head even dizzier, to the point that he’s stumbling into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

one hand works on turning the lock while the other undoes the button of his plaid gray pants, a shaky groan slipping past his lips at the crumb of relieved tension. he dips a hand past the waistband of his boxers and pulls his throbbing cock out, thumb smearing the milky white pre-cum all around the reddened tip as he grabs onto the sink tightly for support.

“shit,” reo nearly whines at the image playing out in the very front of his mind. it’s almost like he can still inhale you, feel you as the heat of your body against his turns his legs to mush. he bites down on his lip, hard, in an attempt to quiet down the needy gasps that leave his mouth every so often, with every jerk of his hand. he tightens his grip on the porcelain, wrist flicking hurriedly and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut, strands of violet hair falling over his forehead as he groans quietly. please, pretty please, reo. it reverbs in his ears, but this time, it’s breathy, needy - as he imagines you giving him your prettiest wide eyes, tears sticking to your lashes, mascara running down your cheeks as he holds your thighs wide open, watching the way your pussy struggles to fit him in-

“ah- fuck, take it-” a mewl-like sound catches in his throat, toned abs spasming as white spills all over the bathroom sink. he struggles to catch his breath, hips needily thrusting into his hand as he rides out the high that leaves a loud ringing in his ears. throwing his head back, he groans softly as he feels the thick cum pool on his fingers, dripping down onto the pearly white porcelain - staining it with filth.

 it takes him a breather to finally flutter his eyes open, the bring white light stinging the bloodshot orbs - and he hums to himself, softly, a sigh following soon after as his shoulders relax. he lets go of the edge of the sink and instead turns the faucet on, cleaning his hands off any filth and patting any residue off his cock with a paper towel in relative silence. a random tune booms through the speakers outside, but the bathroom door do their job mellowing it out as he cleans after himself, taking his time to fully come down his high.

the realization only hits him when he’s finished zipping his pants back up and about to fix his hair, glancing up at the mirror - and sees the red tint on his cheeks and blood clinging to the torn skin of his bottom lip, glossy eyes staring right back at him.

maybe he is a bit fucked up, after all.

you wake up in your bed the next morning, a glass of water along with a tablet of aspirin left on your bedside table. loser :p, the note stuck right next to it says, and you honestly wish you remembered what the little joke is about. 

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine into your pillow a few hours later and reo chuckles under his breath at the way your legs kick out, body overcome with shame. “i can’t remember a thing! i don’t know what i was even doin’ most of the night,” you mumble, eyes almost teary as you pull your face away to give reo a discontented look. he hums softly, glancing over at you just for a split second before focusing back on the stocks on his phone screen.

“see, that’s why i told you not to drink this much.” he says matter-of-factly, “you’re lucky i was there. you never know who’s at the party with you, kiddo, so you need to stay aware at all times.”

now, reo has to admit that the sight of your eyes glazing over with tears, a subtle pout on your lips, shouldn’t be making him feel as hot as it does - and yet, he continues, and digs the hole underneath you even deeper. 

“there’s many bad guys around and you know it,” he mumbles, lilac eyes momentarily catching yours. you gulp and pull your knees up towards your chest for comfort, tears of shame tingling at your lashes. “you’re a smart girl, after all, yeah?”

were the things he said true? definitely - especially for such pretty and sweet girls like you, too good for your own good. but were you really in any danger last night, with him keeping an eye on you the whole time (except for his little… getaway)? not really - but seeing the anxious expression on your face was worth it. sometimes, it made reo feel like he should just grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you had to grow up eventually, for your own safety and comfort. but then again, he doubted it’d even work anyway, and besides, the adrenaline rush he experienced each and every time he instilled a crumb of fear in your heart was just too good to let pass.

it does feel good to have you cling to him even tighter, after all, he figures as you climb on his lap weeks later asyou two hang out in the evening. your hair blocks his view of the game he’s watching, but it only takes a little squirming for you to get fully comfortable and allow him the full look on the tv screen.

“who’s playing today?” you chime in, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. reo’s voice catches in his throat, unable to help the way his eyes cast down, to where your ass is pressing firmly against his crotch and thighs. the waistband of your shorts sticks away from your flesh, allowing him to take a peek of the thin elastic of your thong - bright purple, just like his eyes. it makes him shudder.

“real madrid and barcelona,” he mumbles, clearing his throat and his hand almost flies down to cup his growing bulge in a weak attempt to hide it. the idea dies down in his mind as soon as he realizes your full attention is on the screen, soft hums leaving your mouth every so often along with little comments about the play. you’re absolutely oblivious to his cock prodding at your bum, hard on pressing right against the fat cheeks and aching. some would say it’s embarrassing how quickly reo could stand to full alert, but honestly… who wouldn’t, right? he shifts in his seat, an arm reaching to rest on the backrest of your sofa. he tries, really fucking struggles to keep his eyes on the screen as well, but your small sounds of excitement or frustration make it near impossible. you fidget slightly, 

“ah! it hit the pole,” you mumble, brows knit in focus and hands resting on top of reo’s knees, bare and bruised up from the hours of training. reo closes his eyes, deciding to try his luck - and he bucks his hips up, slowly, as to not scare you off his lap. instead, he’s met with silence - and he glances at you shortly, just to make sure.

he has just the perfect view of your back, skin smooth and glowy, and his hands itch to rest on the curve of your waist. experimentally, he places a hand on your side, and feels you shiver under his fingertips.

“your hands are cold,” you whine, but instead of pushing it off your bare skin, you do the thing he doesn’t even dare to dream of right now - you squirm. reo moves his other hand to his mouth, leaning back into the plush sofa as his hips do the very contrary and thrust up against you.

you don’t seem to acknowledge how uncomfortable the position generally is, how it should be for any other male friend whose lap would be occupied by you. instead, you lean forward slightly, hips rolling against reo’s crotch just slightly, and you sigh softly as you give his knees a gentle squeeze.

can you really be this oblivious? honestly, it’s hard to tell which thought makes him harden more - you just putting up a little facade and actually just teasing him by this point, or, which is more likely considering your sweet nature - you being truly, absolutely unaware of how your fidgeting was making his dick throb and ache. the sounds of the game are long forgotten, barely a haze in reo’s mind, as blood pumps in his ears and mouth salivates at both the sight and sensation on you almost bent over on his lap. he feels your dainty fingers tap against his knees mindlessly, or giving his flesh a gentle squeeze whenever you tense up in excitement over the match. he has to lean his head back, eyes closed and teeth nearly sinking into his hand as to not make a sound.

he rolls his hips up against your bum languidly, the friction sending sparks down his thighs, and it feels heavenly. he thinks of how your small hands will feel as they rest in the same exact place as now, but instead, they work as support when you lower yourself down on his cock. he wonders how you’d squeal if he grabbed at your ass, left his hand prints all over the soft flesh, setting a rhythm for you to ride him. for a second, it even occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pushed himself to make a move, the little sleepover with your best friend really could end up with him splitting you open on his dick. 

reo hears his breath hitch in his throat, the familiar tension in his abdomen growing stronger, and it urges him to grind against you just a bit faster. upon realizing that you really are absolutely oblivious to how he’s using you to get off, it seems like most of his limits broke loose. (it’s not like anything would happen if you ever did find out, though, right?) his cock throbs and pulses against the thin gray boxers, pre-cum already sticking to the material and it feels fucking disgusting, but so good. he tips over his climax, eventually, hips stuttering beneath you and just as he feels the first spurt of cum soak into the soft cotton, you let out a gasp, and jolt in his lap. 

the sensation is enough to make reo’s eyes widen, a choked groan leaving his lips at the way your ass rubs down on him just perfectly, as if helping him ride his high out. his head feels airy as he listens to your little squeal of excitement mix with the sports announcer’s lively comments, the sound tuned out and barely a buzz in his ears. the sticky and thick cum pools in his boxers, and he wonders if you really cannot feel the obvious wetness through the material of his shorts.

you shift in your seat on his lap, ripping a groan from his throat at the way you press down against his overstimulated cock. turning around to give him a puzzled look upon the sound, the sight of your eyes wide and bright almost chokes reo up. 

“you okay?” you ask, a hand reaching towards his face to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. you don’t seem to notice the way perspiration clings to his brows as you touch him.

he gives a nod, swallowing down the saliva that pooled in his mouth, before clearing his throat. 

“yeah,” he speaks, and he’s surprised how collected he sounds for someone who had just creamed his pants. his eyes follow the screen, watching the player’s goal from a minute ago replay and it’s actually a little silly how lucky he is to get such a good cover, in fact, as he watches the camera zoom in on his favorite club’s goalkeeper and his sour expression.  “just really want barca to win, s’all.” 

reo gives up on the hope of you finally growing more self-aware anytime soon when a few more months pass and yet, you still don't notice how your panties would disappear from the hamper or how reo has to excuse himself from the room when you're around - only to come back minutes later, eyes glossed over.

you're starting to make it hard for him not to make a move, and he's honestly stunned that he went so long without finally having his way with you. hell, he even brings you along to the small weekend trip he's came up with, just before the new u20 squad was to be announced. the blue lock team deserves some relaxation before the season starts, even if it is barely a few days, and you do too, considering you had just finished your finals (on top of your class as always). and so, he brings you with him and the rest of the guys and their partners - who at first ask how long you two have been together and then give a surprised look when you laugh, oh! oh no, reo's like a brother to me, really! (something about his longing looks and the way he'd grab your hips tells them different, but oh well, that's not any of their business, right?) the sight of you in all the skimpy bikinis, skin glowing with the tanning oil and cheeks kissed by the sun might just be the breaking point - or at least, one of them, the other being you, going on a date with one of his teammates, and getting your little heart broken.

the sight of you on his doorstep, head hung low and soft little sniffles sounding through the rain outside, is a shock indeed - and reo only has it in himself to coo softly as you stumble right into his arms.

"hey- hey, what's goin' on?" he tries to pull you back from his chest, but the grip you have on his waist is surprisingly strong. instead, he reached for the handle and clicks the door shut, hands moving to rub up and down your arms afterwards. "what happened, bunny?"

your shoulders tremble once, nimble fingers tightening on the material of his white tee. "don' wanna talk," you mumble, and reo wraps his arms around your shoulders, lips pressing to the crown of your head soothingly.

"okay," he mumbles, breathing in the all too familiar scent of your shampoo mixing with the sweet, sticky coconut of your perfume. it brings him back to the frat party months earlier - and makes heat pool in his stomach, even now, as you're sniveling against his broad chest. "i'll run you a bath, okay? you'll get sick."

you don't have it in you to refuse, and in a span of an hour, you're already curled up in the middle of reo's bed, wearing a spare pair of your joggers and one of his sweaters. there's two half-empty cups of ginger tea on the bedside table, and you lay on your side, knees hugged to your chest as you ramble.

reo stares at your face as you speak in a hushed tone, propping his head up on his hand, the other busy with rubbing small circles into your hip. he knows it's bad, god, he knows it's fucked up, but he feels his abdomen tighten at the sight of crystal tears sticking to your lash line.

"and then i said..." you take in a breath, bottom lip jutted out. "said that i- i don't want to do it anymore. that maybe we shouldn't after all, so he got annoyed and tried to change my mind, but-" you cut your rambling off at the silence you're met with, eyes glancing up to check on reo's expression.

he's always been an attentive listener, but this time, the silence almost sounds different. the boy hums, and tugs you a little closer to him. "shouldn't do what?" he inquires; and if it wasn't for the tears smudging your vision, you would've noticed the way he swallows thickly.

you feel your cheeks heat up and scrunch your nose, shaking your head. "you know what, reo," you mumble and he has to force back a sly smile. you're so shy, and now also slightly shaken still from what happened mere two or three hours ago. "i told you already.."

you trail off, the topic clearly bringing you discomfort and yet, reo doesn't drop it entirely. you've grown used to him being so thorough in your conversations, but this time, it makes you fidget slightly.

of course he knows. god of course he does, and the thing keeps him awake some nights, especially after he's scored a goal or two and he has to blow off some steam.

reo's well aware that you've never been with a guy. you've kissed a few of them, yeah, sure. you could've even made out with them, had their tongues down your throat - but you were still innocent, in more ways than one. you were drop dead gorgeous, and yet, the way you would be absolutely oblivious to other guys advance's still hadn't changed one bit since you were barely a young teen. maybe that's why you've never had a man grope you, please you, ruin you - make you stumble over your own feet the morning after.

he's wonders if you've even ever thought of it - if you ever desired to be played with.

"i know," he chuckles slightly and dips his hand under the hem of the thick sweater draped over your waist. a thumb starts to smooth tiny circles across your flesh, mimicking the gesture from seconds before. "i know, bunny. but i've told you already, didn't i, how there's plenty bad guys around." he points out, hand giving your waist a slight squeeze upon feeling you tense up. "why didn't you tell me that you were meetin' someone, hm?"

you can't stand the intensity of reo's violet eyes boring into yours, and so you only give a slight shrug and avert your gaze, "i dunno, reo. just wanted to try something new." you admit, the words now sour on your tongue and you know that this'll be the last time you ever try to go out of your comfort zone for a long, long time. "everyone already did it. i stick out." you grumble, expression soft even as you frown.

your words don't leave him undisturbed - in fact, the expression on reo's face doesn't give out any of the things he's thinking about. if it did, he's sure his eyes would turn black with greed, and he'd most probably drool over the thought of him being the one you turned to instead-

oh.

"why didn't you just ask me?" reo sits up slightly, the arm used to support his head up now straightened. you look up at him, hand itching to brush the hair out of his face - something you seem to always do whenever he has his hair down - but the intensity of his gaze leaves you flustered enough to back down.

"ask you?" you squeak out. it's cute how shocked you sound, reo thinks.

"yeah, why not?" his hand moves further up, warmth resting on your ribs now, just barely below the swell of your breast. you're not wearing any bra - of course you aren't. it's not like you've ever thought of being the slightest bit embarrassed in front of him - not like you've ever noticed how he had to fix his boner at the glimpse of your nipples perking through the shirt you would wear at one of your sleepovers.

the feeling is so unfamiliar, it makes your head dizzy. you and reo have always been touchy with each other - but it's because you were best friends, and it was your way of keeping close, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. but now, as he looks at you with such intensity and pushes on the topic that brings you so much embarrassment, the touch seems out of place.

"you know that your first time is really important, right? you'll compare all of your next boyfriends to this," reo hums, giving your flesh a light squeeze. "s'why you have to be real careful who you're pickin' to be your very first, doll." eventually, he pushes himself up straight, and it feels like the air around you has thinned and finally, you could breathe free again.

"still- wouldn't that be... weird, if i asked you to?" you prop yourself up on your elbows and you're surprised you even managed to force the words out. your heart hammers inside your chest, "we're best friends..." you mumble, and reo shrugs - nonchalantly, as if the ache in his boxers wasn't driving him crazy.

"that's what best friends are for," he points out and reaches a hand towards your ankle, fingers gently skimming along the delicate skin. it makes you shiver and fidget slightly as he massages along your calf. "it's nothin' weird. i could just help you out, so you know what you like and how to make a guy feel good, yeah?" you roll your head to the side, face burning. this sounds insane - reo, your sweetest best friend that almost feels like an older brother to you, telling you how he can be your first. what's worse, no matter how uncanny it feels, it surprisingly doesn't raise any objections in your mind.

you must be silent for a short while, because soon he drums his fingers against your knee. (you didn't even notice when his hand moved upwards, and how good it feels.)

"hey, we don't have to," not now, at least. but god, it's getting so exhausting to hold himself back. "but it would be easier for you that way, bunny.. you trust me, don't you?" your heart pulls in your chest at the words, teeth sinking into your bottom lip and reo almost feels sorry for how he's messing with your head.

but honestly, he's not even trying to - after all, he's just saying the truth. if only you gave him the green light, he could show you so much. he knows you better than anyone else, better than any guy out there ever will. he could make you feel things you didn't know were even possible, pull sounds from you that would make you blush with embarrassment. all he needs is just a chance.

the quiet rustling of the sheets brings him back from the train of thoughts and the sight of you, legs slightly spread in front of him, eyes glossed over and cheeks reddened, is enough to choke him up.

"f'course i do," there's a slight whimper to your voice, breath soft as your chest heaves. "s-so, reo, please..."

a grunt catches in his throat as he grabs your ankles, gently, and pulls you towards him - hands immediately moving to roam up your middle. goosebumps rise along your skin, back arching slightly, and you glance up as reo wraps your legs around his hips.

"will make you feel good," he promises, breathily, as he leans down. you can see how blown his pupils are - the pretty violet barely a halo around the black by now. he licks his lips, gaze darting towards yours, but goes to vocalize his question anyway. "can i?"

you would've answered, but the close proximity between you two and the way you can feel reo's soft breath his your mouth makes you act before you can think. you lean in, lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss, and carefully cup his face in your hands.

reo moans into your mouth, shameless, and brings one large palm to rest back on your hip to grab at the soft flesh. you're so sweet, so gentle - treating him with reserve still, but it feels heavenly anyway. just the way he always imagined.

his tongue slips into your mouth, a surprised little sound muffled against his mouth, as he deepens the kiss languidly. your head spins at the feeling of reo's warm tongue, sliding against yours and lapping lazily, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck. you're pulling him closer, ankles locking behind his hips as he presses himself against you.

there's a bashful mewl slipping past your lips as you feel reo's hard cock rut against your clothed core.

"you're so pretty," he breathes into the kiss, breaking it as he pulls away just slightly, enough to look at you. "see? you're makin' me feel so good, bunny, and we're just kissin'." he grabs your hips with both of his hands now, moving them against his crotch.

the feeling reminds you of when you'd touch your little pussy yourself - late night, under the covers, when the tension and warmth in your tummy would just get too much. but never, ever would you ever think that someone else rubbing at your sweet spots could feel this good. your clit throbs against the cotton of your sweats, and it's almost as if reo feels it at the way he grinds your hips against his harder.

"reo-" you gasp, hand grabbing at his bicep 'cause it's starting to feel like too much. his hands are firm and heavy, holding you against him and handling you however he likes - however he seems fit. it's good, but you have a feeling that it might get even better.

"i know," he coos, chuckling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. he gives your - well, his - sweater a tug, "take it off for me, doll."

you give a small nod and quickly work on taking the clothing off, the air cold against your heated skin. you shiver slightly, both from the change in temperature and the way reo looks at you.

he sighs shakily, hands moving to rest on your waist before slowly moving up and grab at your breasts. you lull your head back into the pillows, the feeling of reo's warmth palms making you shudder. it's new - you've never had anyone touch you like that, ever - and makes warmth pool in your abdomen.

"fuck," you hear him whisper under his breath as he massages at the plush of your tits - fingers experimentally giving a pinch to one of your nipples. you whimper at the feeling, jolting slightly, "fuck, feel how they fit right in my hands?" he flexes his fingers on the flesh for emphasis. "like they were made f'me." a soft groan leaves his mouth, before he leans down and wraps it around your areola.

your eyes widen slightly at the tickling sensation, reo's tongue warm and heavy against your hard nipple, and your back's arching off the mattress before you can register it.

there's a hand slipping past the waistband of your sweatpants, rough fingertips skimming against the skin of your abdomen, just right above your pussy. your hips stutter and chest heaves, making reo moan out at how you stuff his face full with your tits. you're so fucking needy, and you don't even seem to notice. your body acts on it's own, natural and by instinct upon feeling so much pleasure all at once, and it makes his head spin.

he gently dips a finger between your folds, drawing a little circle against your hole and his breath hitches in his throat at the way wetness oozes right out. he pulls away from your chest, a thick ribbon of saliva connecting his reddened lips with your nipple, and looks up at you.

there's one of your forearms resting over your eyes, lips fallen apart as soft little moans slip past. you only pull your arm away from your face when his hand pushes your pants down and doesn't return to it's previous place between your thighs - instead, he taps his fingers on your lips.

you look up at him, eyes tentative, as he breathes out, "lick them for me, baby. so it doesn't hurt."

he knows damn well that you're wet enough to manage a finger or two, even if it is your very first time taking something longer and thicker than your dainty fingers - but the sight of you obediently parting your lips, tongue lolling out to lap at his digits before softly suckling is worth the lie.

reo feels his cock throb as he watches you, intently, as you circle your tongue around his fingers and struggle to fit them in your mouth past his second knuckle.

"good girl," he croons and gives his hard on a firm squeeze through his sweats, just a little something to relieve the painful pulse. your eyelashes flutter momentarily, blood rushing to your cheeks, and he can't help but push his fingers deeper.

you choke slightly, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden intrusion as you feel saliva pool in your mouth and dribble past the corner of your mouth.

"open your eyes," you can barely hear reo speak over your quiet choking. "look at me."

you force your eyes back open, vision blurry with tears as you try to catch eye-contact. tears pool at your lash line as finally, he retracts his fingers from your mouth and pulls his hand away entirely, satisfied.

you sputter, gasping for air, and feel reo's other hand rest on your cheek. he wipes your tears away with a thumb, cups your face in his palm gently and sighs.

"see- that's what other boys would do if they saw you like that," he soothes, voice warm as usual and it brings contrast to his words. "s'why you have to be careful, bunny. don't want anyone to be rough with you, don't you?"

you shake your head quickly, throat still burning and scratchy as you look up. he really does look almost worried, with his eyes soft and focused on you entirely - but it almost seems like there's a haze behind the lilac.

you don't dwell on it too much, 'cause there's already a finger rubbing against your slit again, and this time it slips right in. the sensation isn't entirely new to you - you've played with yourself before, after all - but reo's fingers are so much thicker and longer than yours, feel so rough, and seem to press against your sweet spot almost instantly. you moan sweetly, hips bucking against his hands involuntarily as his fingertip rubs against the front of your pussy. it tightens around his finger, makes him dip it even deeper.

"right there?" he asks breathily, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it's enough of an answer. your tummy spasms slightly as you suck in a breath, hips starting to grind against his hand. there's another finger prodding at your entrance, teasingly, before slipping right in next to the other. "wanna see if you can handle two."

there's a slight stretch and burn as you try to accommodate to the girth of reo's fingers, much wider than anything you've ever played with and it is giving you a small struggle. you whimper and shift your hips, hand moving to push at his wrist instinctively.

"can't," you moan out, swallowing thickly as reo gives you a look - almost disappointed, yet intrigued at the same time.

"you've never had anything other than your fingers playing with this little pussy, didn't you?" it comes out as a slight groan, and you turn your head to the side to avoid his gaze. even as you act so sheepish, the slick that coats reo's fingers tell him enough - you're enjoying this.

you're getting off on listening to your best friend talk so sweetly about your pussy, playing with your body how he pleases.

you gulp heavily as you feel his weight shift on the bed, one arm resting across your abdomen and pinning you down firmly. and then, you feel a hot breath fan across your wet cunt, throbbing and creaming for attention, before he takes a long lick up your clit.

your hands grab at reo's hair, fingers tightening to tug and it vibrates against your pussy as he groans. "fuck," you whimper, and he chuckles breathlessly.

"watch your mouth," he muses, humored, before wrapping his lips around your throbbing little clit.

your eyes roll backwards, head pushing into the pillows and you have to bite back a cry at the overwhelming pleasure that seems to hit you all at once. it makes your muscles tremble and head spin how reo seems to work the same exact spot with both his fingers, massaging and thrusting inside, and his tongue, messily and hungrily slurping away. your hips stutter, but don't lift off the bed whatsoever as he keeps them stuck to the mattress with his arm, whining against your heat.

"you can- you can tug," he breathes, purple eyes glancing up at you as he knows exactly what you'll do - give him a little puzzled look, as if to ask you sure, reo? - and moans as his gaze meets yours. you look entirely fucked out already, spit wet on your lips and face pink, eyes wide and needy. he wonders if he looks just as filthy right now, hips rutting into the sheets and soaking his sweats with pre-cum and with his face stuffed in your pussy, devouring you as if he was starved.

he just might be, after years of trying to control himself.

he feels your fingers give a sharp pull at his hair, then push his mouth right back against you until his nose nudges against your groomed mound. it starts to get hard to breathe, he realizes, but you taste just to sweet - almost like honey, thick and sticky on his tongue as he suckles and licks and nibbles, soft little hums and whines buzzing against your twitching pussy.

you feel your back nearly stick to the sheets, thighs trembling against his head as you feel the strange sensation creep up - your muscles tense up as reo's hand presses on your lower abdomen, firmly, a breathy sigh hot on your clit. your eyes widen slightly and you jolt,

"aah- stop- reo, stop," you babble, tongue heavy in your mouth and head hazy from pleasure, but you have to go. embarrassment is dense on your mind as you push at his head, breath picking up and hips bucking up involuntarily. "please, please reo, it feels - ngh- feels funny." you don't realize there's big, fat tears running down your temples now, clear streaks streaming down the heated skin as your voice cracks.

why isn't he stopping?

you choke back a sob, the pleasure white hot in your veins as he groans and pulls back just slightly, enough to speak, "fuck, cum for me. cum on my face, baby." he sounds desperate - looks just the same, too, as you glance at him and the way he works his fingers in and out of your tight heat, fluttering and tightening. big, needy eyes stare up at you, bangs held back by your hand as your fingers pull at the hair, and he lolls his tongue out, grinding it against your clit messily.

you throw your head back, eyes unfocused, as it hits you like a heavy rainfall. the pleasure comes in waves, muscles taut and shaking as your back arches and quiet little cries slip out of your mouth - almost like a chant, and nothing like the sounds all of the other girls made, reo realizes. you sound so, so much prettier. perfect and sweet as you grind against his hungry mouth, cream oozing onto his tongue and juices spilling on his chin. he nearly whimpers, hips rolling against the bed and it takes all of his self restraint not to cum in his pants, too, at the sight of you trembling in his grasp.

the pleasure leaves your limbs warm and fuzzy, a soft buzz in your ears as your climax slowly dies down - but you realize that reo doesn't let up, fingers now having dropped their pace, but tongue still flicking against your oversensitive heat. you whine, swallowing back tears and pulling his mouth away, tugging at the roots of violet hair.

"reo," you sound broken enough, he thinks, and so he gives your clit a last kiss, the smack sounding so obscene it makes you close your eyes in shame. he eases his fingers out of you and gives the inside of your thigh a little peck as well before sitting back on his heels, breathing heavy as he takes you in.

you struggle to catch your breath properly, hair sticking to wet cheeks as you swallow thickly and grab at the sheets - as if you wanted to tug them over your body, cover yourself from his stare and the realization that sits heavy on your mind. reo sighs, nearly dreamily, and sucks your juices right off his fingers as you watch - too exhausted to show any sign of shame.

"m'gonna have you ride my face next time, okay?" he breathes out, giving your hip a squeeze - and before you let his words settle in, you're already nodding along, a soft little whimper leaving your mouth in agreement. it makes his cock jump in his boxers, the way you're so compliant and don't seem to realize the weight of his words.

if only he had known you'd be so easy to convince, he would've made a move a long time ago already, reo thinks to himself as he pulls you up for a kiss. grabbing your wrist to push your hand behind the waistband of his boxers, he drinks up the little moans that slip out your mouth, needy and sweet, nearly enough to make his teeth rot.

reo is so content he's met you, even if it took him long years to realize that your innocence and purity are actually the very thing he needs and wants.

and yeah, you're still different than the other girls - but you're just as oblivious with the way you don't notice his phone propped up on the nightstand.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[faithfulren]

care in every explosion

the reader takes care of bakugo when he's injured, showing him a different side of their relationship. despite his initial gruffness, bakugo slowly warms up to the reader's care and companionship. as they spend more time together, the barriers between them begin to break down, and they share moments of laughter and understanding. one evening, bakugo surprises the reader by thanking them for everything, showing a rare moment of vulnerability. the reader realizes how much bakugo means to them, and they both acknowledge the growing bond between them. despite their differences, they know they can rely on each other and support each other through thick and thin.

----

the sound of bakugo's gruff voice filled the air as he hobbled into the dormitory common room, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. you glanced up from your book, concern instantly etching across your features as you took in his disheveled appearance.

"what the hell happened to you?" you asked, rising from your seat and rushing over to him.

bakugo waved you off with a scowl. "it's nothing," he muttered, though his slight wince betrayed his words.

you weren't convinced. "sit down," you commanded, gently guiding him to the nearest couch. "let me take a look at that."

grumbling under his breath, bakugo complied, allowing you to inspect the injury on his leg. It was a nasty gash, deep and bleeding profusely. your heart clenched at the sight, but you pushed aside your unease, focusing on the task at hand.

with practiced hands, you cleaned the wound, ignoring bakugo's protests as you worked. despite his tough exterior, you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly as you tended to him.

"there," you said finally, applying a bandage to the wound. "all done."

bakugo's gaze softened as he looked up at you, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "thanks," he muttered gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

you smiled gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. "anytime," you replied softly.

over the next few days, you found yourself spending more time than usual by bakugo's side, helping him with everyday tasks and keeping him company during his recovery. despite his initial protests, he seemed to welcome your presence, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by either of you.

as the days passed, you found yourself begrudgingly tolerating bakugo's presence more than usual. his explosive personality seemed to mellow in your company, and you discovered a side of him that few others got to see. you shared sarcastic banter and competitive challenges, finding an odd sense of camaraderie in your constant bickering.

one evening, as you sat beside bakugo's bed, he reached out to take your hand in his, his grip firm yet oddly comforting. you raised an eyebrow, surprised by the uncharacteristic gesture.

"thanks," he grumbled, his voice rough but sincere. "for not being as annoying as usual."

you chuckled, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "you're welcome, i think," you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

in that moment, as you sat together in grudging companionship, you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to bakugo than met the eye. and as his grip tightened ever so slightly around your hand, you knew that despite his rough exterior, he valued your presence more than he let on.

together, you would navigate the ups and downs of hero training, supporting each other in your own unique way. because in the end, all that mattered was the bond that held you together, strong and unbreakable, just like the friendship that blossomed between you.

----

btw to the person who told me i shouldnt use x readers if the character isnt attracted to them pls tell me what should i put bro like damn u dont gotta call me an asshole n shi 💔💔

[julietsbody]

now lick it — academy ! coriolanus + reader : coriolanus was quick to take a liking to the capitol’s newest it girl, along with her leather prada kitten heels. 

tags : 18+!! MDNI virgin ! coryo, sub ! coryo ( yk i had to do it for my sub coryo bbs ), dom ! fem reader, shoe humping, i think coryo likes leather… or heels… not sure, coryo is just a bitchboy in this idk what else to say.. THIS IS NOT A FEET KINK FIC BTW 😭coriolanus is just obsessed w/ rich things and u happen to have designer heels… HEAVYYYYYYYY MOMMY KINK / ISSUES, degradation

a / n : do i know how to write dom ! fem.. no…. did i try… yes……

you’d known coriolanus snow for as long as you could remember, watched his trials and tribulations, watched him continuously come on top albeit being so low. he was poor, hardly had enough money to feed the two others he lived with, always eating those damned lima beans. and you? 

you were just perfect! you had everything and anything you could ever want, the most expensive five course meals, designer outfits, shoes made from only the best. those shoes… a sleek black leather with red painted on the bottom of the shoe, sling - back kitten heels. 

they were utterly captivating, the effort put into making them, the richness it oozes with every step you take as you strut down the hallways without a single worry in the world, paying no mind to the blonde staring you down. 

“he’s so fucking weird,” arachne comments as she walks alongside you, more likely to pay attention to the gazes of those around you. 

“who?” you snap your head to her, brows furrowing together ever so slightly, albeit not much. 

“that snow kid,” arachne glances back at him, and he’s still staring, as sejanus, his district best friend, yaps his ear off, “coriolanus.” 

“is that so?” you can’t help the way you smile, following her gaze back to him, a knowing smile curving your glossed lips as he awkwardly looks away, trying to look like he’s engaging in a conversation with sejanus now, despite the evident nervousness that reeks from him even across the room. 

from that day on, you soon began to realize coriolanus snow was not a phoenix rising from the ashes of his potential, but rather a cockroach that you couldn’t wait to squish. he had become insufferably obsessed with you, always asking your opinion on things, offering to do your homework, asking if you’d like to be his partner for projects, complimenting your hair, outfit, makeup— does he ever shut the fuck up? 

you never even considered taking up any of his offers, until it all got to be too much, and you decided it would be the only thing to finally quiet him down. you glare at him as he approaches you, “yes?” 

“would you like to—..” he pauses, nervously looking around, then shuffling his feet and looking back at you, “to.. be my partner on the project..?” 

he’s so shy, a roach caught in the manicured hands of a raven, claws pushing into it’s shell. he’s surprised when your eyes soften at him, “of course.” 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

so that’s how he’s here now, awkwardly sitting across from you, lashes fluttering at his page. he can feel the sensation of your burning gaze, it never left him from the second you opened your door to him, watching his eyes widen as he admires your house, the way his cheeks flush ever so slightly when you compliment his button up. 

it was a hand - me - down, you could tell. 

your jaw ticks ever so slightly, pencil tapping against the table, “coriolanus?” 

he immediately perks up, as if expecting you to speak, “yes..?” 

you smile sweetly at him, “come here.” 

come here, he’s immediately flustered, shifting in his seat, “what do you—“ 

“come here,” your voice is firmer now, making him gulp. 

and of course he listens, how could he not? ever so slowly standing up, trying to be slick as he ‘naturally’ drops his hands to cover his bulge, assuming you hadn’t seen it as he takes hesitant steps to you. your eyes glisten up at him, head tilting to the side ever so slightly, “why are you here, coriolanus?” 

he inhales sharply, “i don’t know what you’re talking about..” 

“you do,” you respond quickly, red nails trailing down his arm, all the way to his wrist, and yanking it away from his hardened cock. you immediately scoff at the sight, making him want to curl up in a ball and die right on spot, “did you just want to fuck me, snow?” 

“no..— no, no, nonono—“ he immediately pulls all the stops, raising his hands in a universal innocent pose, “i would never—“ 

“oh really?” your shoe moves to pass along his right ankle, feeling him shiver underneath your touch, “you know.. i would have never assumed a guy like you would be such a desperate little bitch.” 

to your surprise, he whimpers. it’s quiet, but loud enough for you to hear, loud enough for you to smile at, watching his cheeks heat up as your shoe trails up his shin. your eyes stay on his face, watching him struggle against his restraint, trying so hard to just not move your shoe to his crotch and hump on it himself.

he needed the expensiveness searing on his skin, to feel the richness stain onto him. 

he had to have it, he truly was so, so desperate. 

he had thought about this many times, humping against the corner of his desk in his room, imagining it’s the leather of your shoe, the chair you sit on, the desk you tap your nails on, the side of the bed that you sleep on. god, it was so dirty, imagining you sleeping in the bed, so peaceful, as he humps the side of it for dear life, biting on the delicate skin of his hand to mask his whimpers. 

his blonde curls fall in his vision as his head tips down to watch your heel as it moves up his thigh, then finally it pushes against his bulge. his knees immediately buckle, hips moving to lower himself against the heel as he tries to hump into it. you hold back your laugh, moving your foot away, “are you a fucking virgin?” 

he quickly moves to nod, “yes.. yes— please.. please..” 

you scoff at him, “please what?” 

“need it— so bad..” he whimpers out, pathetic. 

your molars press together, contemplating it for a second before your lips finally part, “take off your pants, and your boxers.” 

he swiftly follows your every request, tugging down his slacks and boxers, his huge, hardened cock springing out, tip red like he’s been hard for hours, precum beading off his slit. he was eight inches, at least, girthy as well, but not much compared to the length. how could a man so submissive and pathetic have such a huge cock?

you squint at his approval - seeking gaze, not giving him any of it as you hum, moving your shoe to move against his cock, admiring the way precum smears on the rich leather. he pulls his lips together for a second, “mm—.. mmph— feels so fuckin’ good..” 

you were seconds in, and it already seemed like his sanity was shattering, hips worthlessly bucking against your shoe, whimpering at any form of friction. his lashes flutter evidently at the feeling of the money spent on your shoes coating his cock, making him feel rich. 

now he’s everything he’s ever wanted to be, a rich man, doused in money, able to spend it on all the riches the world could offer. diamond encrusted watches, pearls extracted from pure oysters, real leather, rich satin, deep maroon. he envisions it all in his mind as he humps against your shoe, whimpering out nonsensical mumbles that you couldn’t even begin to decipher. 

“al—always.. wanted to do.. this— ah, ah..—“ he moans out, hand moving to clasp onto the table next to him. 

and suddenly, he starts groaning out a name you could never imagine being called. 

mommy. 

it comes so natural to him in this moment, and it makes heat ignite between your legs. you can’t help but play into it, “mommy, huh? gonna cum for mommy? yeah?” 

he desperately nods, gripping the table like it was his lifeline as his hips move faster against your heel, white beading at his stressed knuckles, “mm— mph.. mommy— please.. can i.. can i— can i can i…” 

your head tips up to meet his gaze again, “can you what?” 

“cum..—“ his nails dig into the expensive wood, garnished with a sleek gloss, tears nearly welling in his eyes from desperation, “..need to.. so s-so bad— please, mommy.. ‘ll be good— p-promise..” 

“you won’t tell anyone about this?” 

he shakes his head rapidly. 

“you will leave me alone?” 

“mm—..” his tip catches on to the leather of your shoe again, making his nose scrunch up, “mhmhmhm—“ 

“gonna be my good boy?” 

his lips fall apart, desperately trying to hold back his rushing orgasm for as long as you’re putting it off for but god— when you’re calling him good boy, he just can’t. his eyes meet yours, pupils completely blown out, “y-yes.. mommy.. pleaseplease—“ 

he just wanted your approval, just wanted you to appreciate the effort he is putting into you, for you to smile at him and say he did a good job. 

you put it off for another few seconds of silence, before finally tipping your chin to watch his dick slide against your shoe, “you can cum.” 

and good lord, he does. thick white spurts of cum drip onto the expensive leather of your shoe, his legs trembling from the awaited release, lips moving around incoherent words. he starts mumbling out thank you’s and you can’t help but chuckle at him, did he think it was over? 

you put on a faux pout, “you ruined my shoes.. can you clean them for me, coryo?” 

coriolanus, albeit his pathetic showcase seconds later, would never, ever get on his knees to lick anyone's shoe. it was humiliating, disturbing, concerning, even— wait. he’s on his knees. his tender skin pushes against the hardened floor as you lower the shoe to align with his mouth, and much to his own surprise, his lips part, tongue snaking out to provide kitten licks onto the shoe. 

his own cum is salty against his tongue, slimy and disgusting, but it also tastes like.. money. it tastes like your approval, like your love. his tongue starts to lap it up now like it was his last meal, fingers gripping the heal of your shoe to have a sturdier hold on cleaning it up. 

“good boy,” you eventually mumble out to him, watching his tongue slip under the underside of your shoe to really clean it up. god, didn’t he know you were walking in these all day? what a disgusting, freakish animal. 

well.. you did clean them after school, intending for them to be to this use. 

but he didn’t have to know that, now did he? 

he still licked it, even without knowing, and that is the best part. 

he immediately nods, licking his lips to make sure he didn’t miss any other cum. his eyes move up to meet yours again, “thank you..” 

“who?” 

“mommy.” 

that’s right. 

coriolanus snow was completely and utterly your bitch now.