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#i was in high school and my mom called me while i was walking to the bus stop
bnha-headcanonss · 3 days
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Today got so, so much weirder
Bakugo one-shot. Super light. Hopefully sweet? Idk I don’t write this type of stuff. Apologies for any typos or confusing bits. It’s 4 am. I have not slept.
Slight swearing (expected)
Word count: 1875
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I woke up, sun shining into my eyes first thing. Basically blinded as soon as I wake up, on top of that, I’m going to be late, lovely start to the day!
I get up, get dressed in my uniform, and leave for school.
“Honey what about breakfast??” Mom calls out after me.
“I’m going to be late if I stay any longer! I’ll pick something up on the way, love you!” I yelled while speeding out the door.
I hear a faint “I love you too!” As I slam the door shut and make my way down the street.
“Stop walking so fast will you?!”
Bakugo and I haven’t always been close, he’s got an explosive personality, quite the temper on him. After both of us getting into UA and finding out we were in the same class, we grew closer. Originally it was banter back and forth and absolutely kicking each others ass in matches. Basically wiping the floor with each other.
He’s got this explosion quirk which goes hand-in-hand with his personality and I have a time shift quirk. I use it a lot to dodge others attacks and find way to make their attacks blow up in their own face, in his case, literally. And he hates it.
After our back and forth harsh banter that went on for months, it turned more playful. Eventually we just became each others closest friend. And I’d hate to admit it, it’s been kind of nice. Over time I developed a small crush for him. Nothing too major. But just underneath all the anger and aggression, and ego, he’s not half bad.
“My apologies your highness.” I did a stupid little curtsy and he attempted to push me down. I grabbed onto his arm so his attempt failed. Still funny though.
“What’re you doing out here so late? Usually you’re early.” I questioned. Being late or barely on time was my thing, not so much his.
“Somebody kept me up all night.” He gave me a dirty look.
“You were the one who didn’t want to go to sleep until you got a win. You just got to get better at the game.”
“I’ll blow your fucking face up, shut your mouth.” I burst out laughing. Bakugo sucks big time at Mortal Kombat. He wasn’t much for video games in general but he saw me watching an execution clip online and got interested, typical.
We reach the school and go on with our day. We don’t talk much in class, we sat and did our work. Lunch came and we ate together.
“Hey try this.” He proceeds to dump some green sauce on my food.
“What is it?” I questioned. Bakugo loves his spicy food, pretty on brand but I can’t stand it. I do not have the tastebuds strong enough for that like he does.
“It’s nothing too bad, it’s really good, I made it myself. Try it.” He demanded.
“If I burn myself, it’s on you.”
“Nah you’ll be fine. Go on.” He sits back. I already know how this is going to go, but he made it himself and I can’t say no to that.
As expected, it burned.
“Holy shit Bakugo, this burns so bad.” I’m up and looking for anything to drink but I finished my water a while ago and don’t have anything else. Meanwhile Bakugo is practically dying of laughter in his seat. I swear he’s got tears of joy forming and I’ve got tears related to death streaming down my face. Everything feels like it’s on fire.
“Here here, you’re causing a scene.” He hands me his water bottle and I start chugging.
“I don’t care.. if I cause anything.. that shit BURNS!” I manage between chugs of water. He breaks out into even more laughter.
He was right though, I am causing a scene. I sit back down and try to gain my composure.
“What is that stuff?”
He pulls out the unlabeled bottle and holds it up like an advertisement.
“Lord Explosion Murder hot sauce, available near you.” He’s got a giant grin on his face. You don’t see him smile much, even if it is artificial, it ties my stomach in a knot, that could also be the hot sauce.
“Oh my god you’re such a nerd.” I say with a stupid smile on my face, compensated by an eye roll.
“You find it funny so clearly you love this nerd. Wait- nevermind that sounded weird.”
“Yeah right, cool it hot shot.” I laugh and brush it off, I wouldn’t say love, but I think I definitely like that nerd? I have no idea.
He looked oddly vacant when I brushed it off though. There was no emotion, just stone faced. Completely changed the tone. Luckily the bell rang, we cleaned up and continued the rest of our school day.
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“Roof?” I approach his desk as the final bell for the day rings.
“Yeah let’s go.” He packs away his things and we make our way to the roof.
We’ve been coming up here a couple times a week since becoming friends, just to talk, watch the sun go down, watch a movie or something. It’s like a moment of peace for me. I think this is originally where I started developing feelings for him. It’s just us, there’s no playing an act or anything. We learned to be ourselves and I really like who he actually is.
“What’s it gonna be today?” He questions, pulling out his laptop and turning on his Apple TV application.
“Hmm. What’s on the list?”
We made a list of all the movies we think about but can’t watch at the moment.
“So far there’s 27 dresses, uh 13 going on 30, 10 things I hate about you, god what is up with all the romcoms? All girly shit.”
“You realize who you’re talking to dimwit? 10 things I hate about you.”
“Yeah yeah.” He rolls his eyes, turns on the movie and positions the laptop in front of us both. It’s a nice day. Not cold, no breeze, just nice, warm air. Quiet.
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I must’ve been more tired than I thought because I felt my eyes getting heavier and I’ve had to catch myself from falling forward once or twice. The movies only about half way done.
“Fucking loser.” He says.
“What?”
“You’re falling asleep.” Pointing out the obvious.
“No I’m not, I’m watching the movie.” Uh-huh..
“Right.” He pulls me towards him until my head hits his shoulder. This is different, Bakugo grew some balls or something. I don’t remember much else from there though.
I must’ve been really exhausted.
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I open my eyes to the night sky and Baby Driver playing on the laptop. I barely made it through 10 things I hate about you I guess. I’m still laying on his shoulder but I feel pressure on my head, it feels like his head. And I feel a hand on my waist. Is he asleep too?
“Hm.” I test.
“Finally, fucking nerd. You fell asleep.” He’s got that softer, sleepy voice. Maybe he was falling asleep. He lifts his head and moves his hand from my waist.
“Sorry, I guess today was not my day.” I laugh it off.
“Movie was good. Liked it. I put this on right after though and it’s almost over.”
“Baby Driver?”
“Yeah.” One of the first movies we watched up here. Only because he didn’t give me much of a choice, at all. It was good though, I liked it a lot more than I thought I would, I thought it was just a car movie at first.
“Let’s finish it then.” I offer.
“That was the plan. At least until you woke up.”
“Yeah yeah. Shut up and watch.”
“You’re one to talk.”
As the movie continued I could feel his arm snake around my waist again, right back to where it was before. We haven’t moved otherwise. I’m still really close to him, I can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it’s a lot. I can’t necessarily complain though. Realistically, who would?
The movie finished and we pack up to go home. It started getting colder as the time passed and neither of us had a jacket. The school issued skirt for my uniform was killing me at this point.
I let him rant on about the movie I picked the whole way home. It sounds like he liked it. He really liked the main character because she wasn’t like all the other main characters who are all boy crazy.
“She kind of reminds me of you.” He says. I take that as an absolute win. I love Kat so much. She’s the main reason I watched the movie in the first place.
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Despite the fact that I’ve never fallen asleep on him like that before, nothing was weird. Nothing felt weird. Today was a weird day, don’t get me wrong but that was the most normal feeling part, and it was the most not-normal. I’m confusing myself.
We reach my apartment complex which is a couple streets away from his house and we make our way up the stairs.
“Again tomorrow?” He suggests. Or demands? No clue at this point.
“Tomorrow? Theres no school tomorrow?”
“You come over to my place. We’ll rewatch your movie so you can finish it this time and we can pick another one from the stupid list. Yeah?”
Me go over to his place? Today got so much weirder in just 30 seconds.
“You know, that sounds nice. See you around 1?”
“Yup. Don’t be Late.”
“I’ll try not to,” I start to walk towards my door.
“I’ll kill you if you are!” He’s still just standing there, you can practically hear his smile. You know how you sound different when your lips are upturned, yeah, that.
“You won’t do shit.” I laugh and pull out my keys.
I feel a tug on my arm and I’m met face to face with Bakugo. He grabs my face with his hands and suddenly his lips meet mine.
His hands lay either side of my jaw, thumbs on my cheek, holding my head up towards him. His lips are soft, he’s gentle. I practically melt into the kiss.
He pulls away, we lock eyes for just a couple seconds before he turns around to leave. His face was red. I feel red. I feel hot, and confused. My stomach did flips.
He did shit- not the shit I was referring to, but holy shit, he did shit. What.
“1 pm, don’t, be late,” he emphasized the don’t.
“I won’t.” I say, in utter disbelief. I see a small smile creep up on his lips before he’s out of sight.
What the fuck just happened?
Today got so, so much weirder.
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ikyw-t · 8 months
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I do relate to olivia rodrigo in some ways for example I did have nightmares each week (every day for months) after that phone call in may (march). I fantasize (once every other blue moon) about a time where you're a little fucking sorry. except I do not hold my undying love (there is not even an iota of love, if there ever was) like a grudge and also I will never ever forgive bc you were indeed filled with vitriol. and unfortunately I also cannot let it go. it was six months (three years) of torture. I did NOT love you truly and I cannot laugh at the stupidity. I may have made some real big mistakes but you do indeed make the worst one look fine. like..............
#sorry i know this is cringe and something i should just journal about#ive just had a very shitty day and also kinda week#ive just been tired and lethargic for no clear reason for the past five days and it's very frustrating#bc i have homework due tomorrow that ive barely made any progress on#and i kinda rly need an A in this class to maintain my gpa. so if one bad week means i tank this assignment and get a B in this class#oh dread. unspeakable unsurmountable dread#also i went on a walk in the park w my mom which i haven't done in a bit and i just was unable to stop thinking#about my high school demon of a boyfriend who lives nearby. altho he literally never goes outside i sometimes get rly freaked out#and panicky that i might see him and have to deal with him again. like he did call (AND TEXT?!?🤢) me last march#and i was having nightmares for months after and feeling so paranoid that he might randomly show up at my house one day#bc that's the kind of shit he used to do regularly when we were dating to keep me from breaking up w him#and like ughhhhhhhhhh it just makes me so upset bc he literally would have the audacity.#it's just upsetting. i am soooo nonviolent as a person but when i think of him i suddenly feel not very nonviolent#again my apologies i know this should be journaled about instead. sorry u had to see all this#feel free not to read these tags like this is just for me. apologies.#while im here some other songs that make me think of him include would've could've should've. atw10 but only the terrible parts#uhh better by myself by hey violet is incredibly on the nose#also it's actually just a rly great song. also get out of my life by little hurt. okay im done now.#gonna go find something funny and cute to watch. maybe little witch academia.#sorry if u read all this 😵‍💫
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plantbutter · 2 years
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well good morning?! been a while since i remembered what i was dreaming so vividly & of course when i do it’s a dream where i’m in love w a guy i went to school with and haven’t seen in 8yrs. i shouldn’t over analyze it but my brain already went there
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billowyy · 3 months
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#i had a training today about how civilians need to act in active attack situations#and a school shooting that happened here a few years ago got brought up#the entire time the cop that was leading the training was really respectful about everything except during this one part#she said that it took some cops 6 months to a year to be able to return to duty after what they saw that day#which i respect and all that bc that shit is traumatic at fuck#but she didn't say shit about the students having to return#like i'm pretty sure the students had a week or two before the school opened again but they had to go back so fast#to the place where it happened#and she basically just dismissed that#i'm sure she didn't do it on purpose but it really fucking bothered me and hours later it still is#and there were probably at least one or two people in the room who went to that school and were there on that day#that training was really hard#we had to watch a video of this teacher from sandy hook talking and jfc man#a lot of us were trying not to cry for a lot of it#shit's fucked but all of us in that room work with kids so it was really hitting hard for us#it's forced me to think about what my experience was on the day of that local school shooting which is always really difficult#i was in high school and my mom called me while i was walking to the bus stop#and told me that there was an active shooter at this high school about 30 mins away#so i went to school that day knowing there was an active shooter at another high school so close to mine#the entire day every time i heard a door slam or someone run down the hallway i was flinching#it didn't really sink in how close that was to me until i got to college and started meeting people who went to that school#today's not a good day and i'm glad it's almost over
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writingouthere · 4 months
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singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.
cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.
"I....want you to be my mommy?"
Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.
"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."
"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"
"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.
"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.
"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."
"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"
"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.
"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.
It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.
Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"
Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.
"She's really nice, I like her."
"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.
You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"
That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.
Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."
"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.
"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.
Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.
"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"
"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.
Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.
"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"
"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."
"I wouldn't want to intrude-"
"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"
Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.
You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"
"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.
Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.
Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.
Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.
"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.
"Let's go!"
Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.
You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.
As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."
He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.
He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.
"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.
"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"
"Gojo."
Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.
"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.
You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.
Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.
As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.
"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.
"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.
"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.
The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.
"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.
"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.
"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.
"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.
"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.
"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"
Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.
"Hey now, there's children here."
Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.
You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.
Although.
Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-
Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.
As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.
Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.
shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.
also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.
Edit: wrote the prequel, here!
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moonlinos · 3 months
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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’
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♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader
♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff
♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.
♡ Word count: 5.5k
♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.
♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.
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You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.
You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.
The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.
Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.
You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.
All extremely valid reasons.
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Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.
Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.
On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.
“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”
You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.
Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”
You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.
“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 
You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.
Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.
That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?
Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.
“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”
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At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.
You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).
You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.
Except it had the opposite effect.
One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.
You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.
After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.
“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”
Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…
But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?
It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.
He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.
You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.
Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.
YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.
Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.
After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.
From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.
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You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.
It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.
Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.
But Minho never budged.
So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.
You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.
“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.
He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”
You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.
You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.
You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.
And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.
“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”
You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.
“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”
And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”
That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.
You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.
After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 
Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.
You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.
All because Minho had let go of your hand.
Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.
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Your seventeenth summer was a drag.
Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.
You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.
Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.
The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.
And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.
That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.
That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.
Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.
“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”
“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.
“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”
He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.
“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”
You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.
Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.
You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.
However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.
That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.
“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”
You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.
You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.
But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.
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Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.
Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.
Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.
You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.
One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.
It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.
That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.
You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).
Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).
Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.
And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.
He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”
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Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.
You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.
Things happened when they were supposed to happen.
It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.
He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.
It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.
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Graduation day was a blur in your mind.
It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.
You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.
“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”
Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.
“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”
You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.
“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.
You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.
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Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.
After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.
The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.
“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”
You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.
Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”
Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.
Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.
“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”
And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”
“Who says I would have found out?”
“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”
And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.
“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”
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♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist
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mactavishwritings · 1 year
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how would the 141 + konig and vaqueros react to reader (not part of the military,just a civvy) randomly having connections with a bid deal military person like someone on a higher rank💀 imagine them being "oh general ___? we had dinner at his house last week. i met him while I'm on a coffee run" or someone from 141 mentioning that they need something and reader is just like "hmm i might have someone for that"
this is so funny to me
ghost: he needed access to some computer data from a big law firm, but they refused to cooperate with him or the team. at dinner one night, you two were talking about your days when he mentioned his frustration with this law firm. “what firm is it?” you asked curiously and he told you it was a group called ‘Henson and co Law’. you started laughing and when he looked confused, you smiled. “i know their mom. i use to babysit them for her after their dad left the picture. let me see if i can get their mother to talk some sense into those brothers.” the next day, the law firm quickly gave ghost what he needed and asked him to give you their love.
soap: you two were laying in bed together, him having just return from a recon mission. “you know, this mission is being over complicated just because no one knows how to get into this gala. every time we try and get invites, they reject us!” he let out his frustration and you looked up from your book. “you talking about the Mason Gala? i can get you in. Helen Mason is my godmother!” soap immediately whipped his head towards you, desperately grabbing at your arm. “please doll! also your godmother is a multi millionaire?” you shook your head, getting your phone out to text the women and ended up securing the whole team and yourself tickets.
gaz: you two were on a facetime call while he was on a mission. the homecoming date kept being pushed back because one of the guys they were supposed to get intel from kept flaking. gaz was expressing his frustration with the whole thing when he mentioned a name to you that was super familiar. “wait a minute…you don’t mean Ben Klark? i went to high school with him!” you laughed when gaz lurched forward. “please tell me you still have contact with him! we need tech!” you nodded, grabbing your laptop to message him. the next day, three boxes showed up full with the Klark tech the team needed.
price: he hosted a bbq at your guy’s house every other weekend. you were bringing out trays of food to the boys at the backyard table. they were deep in work talk when you joined. “we just need to somehow get the Jacobsons sisters to agree to go undercover.” price shook his head, knowing the two girls would never agree. “you mean Vanessa and Amelia Jacobsons? their mom does my nails.” you mentioned causally, setting the tray of food in front of soap and gaz. “wait you know them?” price looked at you confused. “yeah the girls come into the shop whenever i’m in to gossip. i think i have Vanessa’s number. i can try and convince her if it’ll help.” you looked at the boys, confused as to why this was groundbreaking to them. the boys immediately started begging you to ask the girls and you giggled as you went back into the kitchen, grabbing your phone to text the two girls.
alejandro: you happened to be sitting in his office, waiting for him to take you to lunch when him and two other officers walked in. “what do you mean we don’t have a pilot? no one on this base can fly?” he sounded frustrated as the two officers shook their heads. “you need a pilot?” you asked, catching the three men’s attention. “why? do you know one?” one of the officers asked. “yeah my brother. he’s overseas in america but i’m sure he’ll be able to do it. he’s air force.” you grabbed your phone to text him. alejandro crouched in front of you, kissing your head. “you’re my favorite, did you know that? i’ll contact his C.O. and get him down here.” you smiled, squeezing his hand. “you still owe me lunch.”
rudy: he was working in his home office when you entered, a plate of food in your hands. “rudy honey? you gotta eat.” you placed the plate down on top of the stack of papers he had buried his face into. “i will once i can get a reputable translator for when we go to russia in a few days.” he groaned, softly pushing the plate to the side. “i think i have a guy for that.” you pulled your phone out and started texting. rudy looked up at you, the look of hope in his eyes. “i’m desperate. everyone i reach out to is so sketchy.” he rubbed his eyes and you nodded. “Mikael Petrov. i studied with him in college. great guy.” you handed your phone to him with the contact pulled up. “you are a blessing.” he stood before kissing you gently.
könig: you were folding laundry in the family room when könig came home. he kicked his boots off before collapsing in his favorite chair next to you. “rough day?” you asked, not looking up from your task. “ja. everyone is busting my ass to find a hacker that can decode this transmission we intercepted.” you chuckled at the very militaristic sentence. “you could’ve just asked me baby. i know so many people.” you placed his pile of laundry on his lap before kissing his head. “you know someone? a hacker?” he looked concerned at first. “don’t ask. college roommate for all 4 years.” you laughed before getting your phone out. “Emila Davenport.” you gave him her number before taking the laundry basket full of clothes back upstairs to your room. “i’m gonna marry you someday, maus!” könig called out and you laughed loudly in return.
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evie-sturns · 4 days
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dinner - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: you and your boyfriend chris have just had your one year anniversary, to celebrate chris's family invites you and your parents round for dinner! but when chris gets worked up by your touch he has to take you to the bathroom...
contains: smut, bathroom!sex, semi-public, fluff, teasing, stomach bulge.
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in honor of chris and i's one year anniversary, his family is deciding to throw a huge dinner party. i'm not too sure if his extended family will be there but my parents and siblings are coming.
"chris?" i call out, spraying my face several times with setting spray after finally finishing my lengthy getting-ready process. i hear his excited footsteps sprinting up the stairs before the bedroom door swings open.
"you look so pretty," chris smiles, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around me.
"oh- chris! careful, i don't want to get makeup on your shirt!" i laugh while chris smooshes my face onto his white shirt from his deadly tight hug.
"right so were gonna go pick up matt and nick- i think everyone else is meeting at mary lou's." i say, pulling away from the hug and grabbing chris's hand.
chris nods before dragging me downstairs, my high heels click against the wooden floors as i adjust the straps of my white sundress.
i turn my phone on do not disturb while unlocking the front door, "how long are we going to be there?" chris asks, stepping out into the afternoon sun.
"only a couple hours, you might get a little bored." i tell chris before jumping into the drivers seat of our car.
"no- i'll be fine," chris defends himself with a sigh.
i look over at him "you okay?" i ask, rubbing his shoulder as i drive down the driveway.
"just.. really fucking nervous" chris laughs.
"chris no. you know my family loves you so much, all your brothers will be there its a happy thing!" i try to lift his enthusiasm with a confident tone.
-
i pull into the driveway of chris's parents house, ever since we picked up matt and nick, chris has cheered up. hes been laughing dramatically while making stupid jokes.
"you guys ready?" i ask with a grin, switching off the car.
"yes ma'am." nick jokes, swinging open the car door and jumping out, matt follows close behind. chris get's out of the car and instantly starts walking up to the front door, i run up behind him.
the front door opens slowly, mary lou's face peeks out and instantly lights up "hello!!" she sings, wrapping her arms around me.
"your children are here too" matt scoffs, she wraps her other arm around matt nick and chris, squeezing us all together. the sweet smell of her floral perfume flooding my nostrils.
"come in! come in." she hurrys us inside, the kitchen has my older brother and younger sister in it, roaming through the pantry. the dining room has tens of adults around all chatting happily around the table.
"look whos here!" jimmy calls out from the dining table, everyones heads snap up to me and chris. dramatic hollers come from the people round the table, chris and i burst into laughter.
“come! come sit” my mother smiles widely, tapping the two seats left for chris and i. i look over at chris and flash him a quick smile before sitting down
chris sits down right next to me, our shoulders brushing briefly.
"its been so long! hows molly?" i ask, molly is my dog. shes getting old but shes my childhood dog.
"oh shes doing great, you know still limping but we took her to the vet a couple weeks ago." my mom replies with a small sigh,
"anyways- and chris! i've missed you darling congratulations on 1 year! hows that youtube going?" she continues, looking up at chris with a wide grin.
"thank you! it's going great thank you, my career now- yeah!" chris speaks, his hands resting comfortably on his lap.
"ahh- youtube i remember when you were just starting a couple years ago!" my dad laughs, before chris and i dated we were friends since high school. my dad always loved chris, he says that chris is a 'sweet boy'.
all heads on the table turn towards mary lou and my cousin james, bringing over several dishes to the table.
"this looks awesome thank you." matt smiles up at mary lou.
i look over at chris, who is now shifting in his seat. he locks eyes with me and instantly breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.
i serve up some food on my plate,
suddenly i feel chris's hand on my thigh as he talks to one of my cousins, his long fingers trace small circles on my inner thigh under the table.
i stab my fork into the cabbage on my plate, glaring over at chris as he happily chats with various members of my family while his fingers slowly shift up my thigh.
he drags his fingers just under the hem of my dress, i can feel myself growing more sexually frustrated, my panties dampening by the second. his pinky lightly grazes my panties.
"chris." i whisper, he turns to me with an innocent face and a small head tilt.
as soon as he wraps up the conversation with my cousin he leans over, his lips just below my ear before he whispers subtly
"you're gonna excuse yourself to the bathroom and i'm going to meet you there in a minute okay?"
i nod, squeezing my thighs together.
"i'm just going to pop to the bathroom" i smile warmly at my parents like my boyfriend wasn't just teasing me under the table.
i scoot my chair back and stand up, swiftly walking upstairs and taking the first door into the large bathroom.
the walls in chris's parents house are paper thin, last time i was hear i could hear conversations from each bedroom clearly, so now i hear chris making up a lame excuse to meet me up here.
"hey- i don't know if y/n's feeling very well she was nauseous on the way here" he lies through his teeth "i'm going to go check up on her." chris says, i hear his chair shift before footsteps running up here.
he swings open the door with a stupid smile. "yes?" i say with a roll of my eyes.
he walks over to me, grabbing my ass and lifting me up onto the marble countertop. my back presses against the mirror as chris steps between my legs.
I spread my legs apart, causing my dress to ride up my thighs revealing a portion of my panties.
"fucking soaked." chris scoffs, my face flushes as he tugs down my panties to my ankles before putting them in his pocket. he fidgets with the belt of his jeans, letting it drop down followed by his jean.
"if you. make a sound. i will stop completely." chris speaks sternly, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.
"good girl." chris says, rubbing my cheek before lining himself up with me.
he pushes his tip inside of me, observing my face. he slowly gives me more, i shake my head as i press my lips together.
chris is big, its a known fact and it's almost impossible to stay silent when he pounds into me.
"you can take it, i know you can" chris mutters, bottoming out. i arch my back, breathing heavily.
he starts to thrust into me, his hands gripping the plush of my hips. the thrusts grow faster and harder, we both know we don't have all the time in the world so hes desperate to make me cum, and to cum himself.
the angle we're in allows him to repeatedly hit my g-spot.
"fuck!" i moan out, before i can even finish the word chris's hand is plastered over my mouth.
he presses two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.
i whine against his fingers, squeezing my eyes shut as i shift all over the countertop. shortly after my legs start to shake, i feel myself growing so close to my orgasm.
his hand that was on my hip moves to my lower stomach, pressing lightly. i look down, theres a clear stomach bulge.
"you feel me right there sweetheart?" chris breathes, i throw my head back with a frantic nod. he continues to press on my stomach.
i wrap my legs around his back before clenching harshly around him. i squeeze my eyes shut as i fight back all noises that are begging to leave my mouth.
my orgasm crashes over me, chris chuckles lightly before pulling out. he releases into his hand as he throws his head back.
we stay still for a couple seconds, i look down at his hand that he just released in
"gross!" i tease,
"hey it was this or on your dress so i took the practical option." chris replies, i stick up a finger and repeat what he said in a nerdy tone.
i flop down off the countertop, tugging down my dress and reaching into his pocket, digging around for my panties.
i pull them out of his pocket and slide them up my legs, chris washes his hands and redresses himself.
"that was.. hot." i breathe out, unlocking the door to the bathroom.
chris follows close behind me down the stairs, all heads turn to us.
shit. were we too loud?
"oh no! y/n were you sick?" mary lou says with a small pout. i hesitate for a second
"your hair is all messed up and you're absolutely flushed! your red!" my mother adds on,
i look over at chris who has his hands in his pockets awkwardly.
"yeah- i'm sorry guys i threw up in there" i lie with a fake sigh
truthfully, i wasn't sick. i just couldn't tell my whole family that my boyfriend was just balls deep inside of me right upstairs.
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@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle
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A Rarity
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You have a rare genetic code called heterochromia. You have two different colored eyes that you have tried to suppress ever since you got seriously bullied in middle school. Just when you're about to present a case, you find your contact case is missing.
Square Filled: friends with benefits (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Today is the day you start your new job as the team’s liaison. You’ve always been part of this since JJ was the main person to deal with it. However, she’s been promoted to profiler which means all the slack now falls on your shoulders. You love interacting with families and comforting them when they most need it.
This is the first case when it’s just going to be you, so you’re kind of nervous about it. Before going into the briefing room, you decide to touch up on your makeup and hair as if you’re going in front of millions on the TV to present the case. You take out your contacts and leave them to rehydrate on your desk while you go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.
Once you’re done, you make sure not to look into anyone’s eyes as you make your way back to your desk. The first thing you do is put away your makeup. The second thing you do is grab your contacts to put them back in but they’re not where you left them.
“Shit,” you curse and go through your entire desk. “No, this isn’t happening.”
You’re panicking at the thought of not having your contacts. You don’t need them to see, in fact, you have 20/20 vision. No, you use them only for color because you have a rare thing called heterochromia. Your right eye is bright blue and your left is bright green. You were born with two different eye colors. No one in your family has this genetic but you, so you have no idea where it came from.
Ever since you were enrolled in school, you were bullied for your eyes. It didn’t start getting bad until middle school when kids were more focused on appearances than learning and making friends. Kids in elementary school actually found them to be cool but only because they were little kids who didn’t know any better.
Your peers made you hate this part of you even though you can’t do anything about it. As soon as you started high school, you begged your mom to get you colored contacts. You’ve been wearing them ever since even into your adult years. You choose a natural blue to make yourself look more normal. Had you not had those, you would for sure get bullied even worse than in middle school.
The longer you went wearing them the more people thought your eyes were just one color. No one at work knows about this or so you thought. The only person who might know about this is Spencer but that’s only because you two have been friends with benefits for quite some time now. It helps to have one to work off the stress from work. Plus, he’s an amazing lover so there’s a plus.
You two aren’t dating just fucking a lot.
While he was getting ready this morning at your place, you were in the bathroom rushing to do your makeup. You hadn’t put your contacts in just yet so if he were to walk in the bathroom, he’d see your eyes for what they truly are. He was getting ready and peeked through the open door to see if you were close to being done when he saw the beauty in your eyes. He didn’t say anything about it so as not to embarrass you.
He walks into the bullpen from the break room to see you panicking.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Where are my contacts? I just had them on my desk.”
“I didn’t know you wore contacts,” he lied. You refuse to look at him without them in. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. You have glasses, right?”
“Yes, but--”
“But what? What’s the problem?”
“Never mind,” you groan and continue looking for them.
“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t, he sets his coffee down on the desk and grabs your chin gently. He makes you look at him but you close your eyes so he doesn’t see their colors. “Open your eyes.”
“No,” you shake your head.
“Darling, open your eyes,” he says gently.
He would be the person to find out eventually. You sigh and open your eyes to show him the rarity you have. Now that he gets to see them up close, he’s falling more in love with you. You might not have feelings for him but he certainly has them for you. He only keeps you as a fuck buddy because if he were to tell you the truth, he might lose you.
“What beautiful eyes you have.”
“They’re ugly,” you sigh and pull away from him.
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone I’ve ever known,” you scoff. You look at your watch and notice the time. “Shit, I have to give the case out.”
“No one is going to notice.”
“Are you kidding me? They’re so bright. They stand out.”
“Fine, if they make comments, I’ll handle it.”
You have no choice but to go in there without your contacts. You sigh and grab your things before heading to the briefing room with Spencer. Everyone is already in there waiting so you immediately get started. As you’re talking, you notice Spencer watching you with a smile on his face.
“You’re beautiful,” he mouths to you.
Your cheeks heat up but you don’t let it show how happy he makes you. The briefing only lasts thirty minutes before Hotch announces wheels up. When everyone is packing up to get out of there, you notice something sticking out of Spencer’s back pocket. 
Your contact case. You want to be mad at him for taking it but maybe it’s time to let your rarity shine.
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alotofpockets · 1 month
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Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.
Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k
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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?”  Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.
“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him. 
You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf. 
The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen. 
Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain. 
When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”
“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”
When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.
You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.
You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.
Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?
The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.” 
The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad. 
You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son. 
Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.
On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off. 
As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team. 
“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.” 
Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other. 
You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”
You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.
Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”
As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.
You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.
As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.
Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?
You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.
Continue reading part 2!
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plomegranate · 6 months
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i love palestinian and arab culture so much.
my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.
my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".
the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.
the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".
kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something
palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture
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coco-loco-nut · 7 days
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Try This
Pairing: Grid x Wolff Reader
Summary: the grid princess shows up sick
requests open masterlist
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Being the daughter of Toto and Susie Wolff, you were always in the paddock when you weren’t racing in F2. You could do no wrongs, the grid was wrapped around your finger. Needed a date to prom because you didn’t really know guys at your high school? Logan is picking you up at 8pm, you are about to be the hottest couple there. Flight got cancelled? Max with have his jet ready to take you wherever within the hour. Need a ride? 20 highly qualified drivers at your beck and call. Learning a language or need to brush up on one you learned as a kid in the paddock? Choose any driver, you have your choice of languages to learn.
You show up to the race a little paler than usual and a bit too bundled up for the weather.
“I’m fine,” you insist, when Valtteri meets you at the paddock entrance. You showed up later than your parents since they had to arrive criminally early, according to you.
“You are coughing, cold but it’s warm out, and your body hurts, give me one second,” Valtteri says, hopping into the Sauber hospitality. You stand there like an idiot for a couple minutes before he reappears, handing you a warm cup.
“Thanks, but what is it?”
“Warm black currant juice, it helps. I have it with me for the fall,” you take his word for it and drink it.
“Y/n is sick,” are the first words out of Valtteri’s mouth when you walk into Mercedes. Your dad’s eyes widen and he starts to forget he is working.
“Oh, Bärchen, you are running a fever, go up to my office, I’ll bring you some food,” Toto says, quickly thanking Valtteri. The engineers Toto was talking to know better than to try and continue the conversation.
You trudge your way to your dad’s office where you collapse on the couch under a blanket.
“Sit up, sweetheart. I have some paracetamol and water for you. Your dad is on his way with food,” your mom feels your forehead, thankfully your fever isn’t to the point where a doctor is needed. Toto walks in and basically shoves the buttered toast down your throat.
“Get some sleep, that will help you feel better,” your dad kisses the top of your head and you take him up on that. When word spreads around the paddock that you are sick, the drivers start to call their moms asking for home remedies.
You wake up is to Lewis and George gently shaking your shoulder.
“Come on, we are going for a lap around the paddock, you need fresh air,” Lewis says and you groan.
“Lew, my body hurts, let me sleep,” before you know it, you are getting a piggy back ride from George. He and Lewis trade every once in a while when they get tired, interrupting your little naps on their shoulders. Some drivers give you home remedies or vitamin supplements that they swear work well, the guys carry it for you. You are passed out on Lewis’s shoulder when you get back to Mercedes, so they carefully tuck you in on the couch, leaving the supplements on Toto’s desk.
“We are the best big brothers,” George and Lewis agree, fist bumping each other.
The next time you are woken up, it’s about halfway through the race, your mom wakes you up for more medicine, water, and food.
“Will you stay with me, Mom?” you ask, sitting up a little so she can sit on the couch.
“Of course I will,” she says softly, turning on the TV to show the race at low volume. You rest your head on her lap, quickly falling back asleep. Toto finds the two of you like that after the race.
“I’ll carry her to the car,” Toto says quietly to Susie who quickly gets her things together. Toto carries you bridal style to the car, you don’t wake up until you get to the hotel, but you fall asleep again not even a minute later.
“I’ll go order food,” Susie whispers to Toto as he sets you on the bed, tucking you in and laying beside you. You instinctively cuddle up to your dad. It reminds toto of when you were little, melting his heart. Susie comes back and lays on the other side of Toto, telling him she ordered dinner.
Over the next half hour, most of the grid comes by to check in and drop off different home remedies for you. Even Christian Horner drops by to give Susie hot tea with lemon and honey for you.
Thankfully after spending most of the day sleeping, you wake up without a fever and more of an appetite.
“How are you feeling this morning?” you mom asks when you join your parents for breakfast before flying home to Monaco.
“Better, although I don’t know how much all the home remedies helped,” some of them were quite disgusting.
“It was the love that made you better then,” that might’ve been the most cringe thing your mom has said, but you can’t help but agree.
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highvern · 1 month
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Waited
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+)
warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung
Length: ~4.2k
Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.
Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.
You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that. 
The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.
He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off. 
You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you. 
The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.
The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news. 
But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass. 
He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical. 
“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.
Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”
Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.
And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.
The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation. 
You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.
But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you. 
“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.
Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”
Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his. 
“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”
It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision. 
“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.
Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.
He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery. 
Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.
You missed him. 
He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.
“Stay?” 
Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”
The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place. 
Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).
The news comes from your mom. 
She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.
He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline. 
Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.
Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…
Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it
You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.
So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch. 
Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.
He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.
Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.
He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.
You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.
Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.
Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh. 
“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy. 
The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on. 
Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him. 
“Fuc–Yoongi!” 
Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.
“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.
He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits. 
You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.
It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.
Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?” 
His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.
A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.
Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.
You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.
“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.
Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”
“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.” 
“Finger it for me,” he drawls.
Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.
“Come here.” 
Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool.  “You come here.”
“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.” 
Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.
His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.
“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.
In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing. 
Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.” 
“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.” 
The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.
With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.
The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.
“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.
Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out. 
Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!” 
“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.
“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.
He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.
Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position. 
“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 
You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.
Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.
Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.
He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.
Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.
“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”
Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.
The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.
Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.
The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—
 “I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”
Well that's new. “Oh.”
“It was an accident but—”
“What’d she say?” You cut him off. 
Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.
“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”
You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy. 
“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.
He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.
“Is that what you want?”
The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it. 
Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.
“That’s what I want.”
Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”
Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.
“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.
“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”
“Yeah?”
You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”
“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again.  “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”
“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?” 
You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off. 
“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.
“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”
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joonsmagicshop · 1 month
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Needy
Summary: Your mother asks why you haven't given her grandbabies. You tell her you are not ready for that yet but it turns out Yoongi likes the idea very much
Paring: Yoongi/Reader
Word Count: 5K
Rating: M/18+
Tags: Boyfriend Yoongi, Mother daughter relationship that kind of sucks, needy subby Yoongi, soft Dom reader, dirty talk, reader calls him kitten and baby boy, jerking off, sucking off, pregnancy kink, flirting, second hand embarrassment, Yoongi can't get his erection to go down so reader helps, deep throating, face fucking.
Authors Note: The horny demon possessed me again.
Also this picture 🔥🔥🔥
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“Yoongi there is a spot right there!” You say
“Can’t park in front of a fire hydrant babe.” He replies, eyes scanning the street
“Okay, what about there!”
“Park next to a Tesla? Absolutely no way.” He says, turning down a side street, eyes still focused trying to find the right parking spot.
“Yoongi please can we just pick a spot?” You ask balancing the meat and cheese tray you brought on your lap and scanning the street.
He smiles at you and turns the car down another street and you see you are getting further away from your parent’s house.
“Or are you being picky because you don’t want to go?” You ask with a teasing tilt to your voice which has Yoongi placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt.
“How dare you Y/N. You know I love going to these extravagant giant parties your mom holds.” He jokes as he turns down another street and begins to search for more parking.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that appears on your face.
“Not sure why you are complaining Yoongs my mom looooves you.” You tease as he scowls and finally finds a spot that seems good enough for him to park his sleek black car into
You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.
But what you said was true.
You had been dating Yoongi for a year now and your mom absolutely adored him. She doted on him whenever he came over and always reminded him how he was her favorite son-in-law (he was her only son-in-law as it was just you and your brother as her kids)
Her relationship with you was much more…complex.
She was a perfectionist in everything she did and while it was impressive it could also be annoying when she expected everyone to be just like her.
You, being the only daughter meant she often criticized you, wanting you to be as perfect and ladylike as her.
This perfectionism shone during her parties. Your mom loved to host parties. Every small gathering got blown out of proportion so she could throw a massive get-together. She would go all out with decor and found herself happiest when she was planning something.
Your grade eight graduation was supposed to be a small gathering of family and it turned into a block party.
Your high school grad was worse as she tried to invite your whole class which you shut down real quick.
You took out your phone and frowned to see your brother finally respond to your text about the party.
“Michael is out. Says his wife and kid have food poisoning.” You say to Yoongi as he finally gets the car in the spot and throws it into park.
You grumble and type back a message as Yoongi chuckles beside you.
“Can’t we tell your mom we have it too?” He jokes as you lightly smack his arm and undo your seatbelt to step out of the car.
Yoongi follows suit and comes around to your side of the car, ever the gentleman holding out his hand so he can help you over the grass which is still slightly damp from yesterday’s rain storm.
It didn’t help you were wearing three-inch heels and a flowy pale blue sundress with small flowers embroidered on it.
You struggled to balance the huge tray of food as Yoongi grabbed your elbow to help steady you over the grass.
“So who are we celebrating again? Alessa and Jonathan right?” He asks pushing his soft brown hair away from his face and smiling down at you.
“Yeah it’s their second child so my mom thought to throw a small gathering.” You say snickering as you walk past the parade of cars that have taken over the whole subdivision.
“Ah, so a small gathering with your cousin’s closest friends got it!” Yoongi teases.
You finally make your way to the driveway and look up in time to see the door being thrown open by your mother who is standing there in a soft white sundress, her hair was curled in her signature style and she had her hands on her hips as you approached.
“Hey, mom.” You say leaning in for a sideways hug as you don’t want to knock the tray in your hands.
“Oh honey, what is with the hair up hmm?” She says signaling to your ponytail which was hanging down your back.
“This is a party I thought you’d wear your hair down for once.” She says with a frown as you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
Before you can respond her eyes land on Yoongi.
“Oh let me take a look at my handsome son-in-law!” She squeals as she wraps Yoongi in a hug and you bite back your laugh as she grabs his arm and brings him into the house.
You head to the kitchen and set the tray down amongst all the food as you hear your mom talking Yoongi’s ear off in the dining room.
You pull out your phone to respond to your brother’s text as you let your mom talk to Yoongi.
Once you decide Yoongi has suffered enough you slip your phone back into your purse and walk to the dining room to loop your arm through his.
He shoots you a grateful look as your mom is still chatting, oblivious to the whole thing.
“Mom, where is Alessa? I have a small gift for her.” You ask cutting your mom off her tangent as her eyes finally lock on yours.
“Oh I didn’t even see you come over dear Yoongi and I were just chatting oh… well of course let's get you to the party girl!” Your mom giggles as she leads you out the sliding door and to the expansive backyard.
Yesterday’s rain luckily blew through in time for today to be beautiful. The sky was bright blue with small whispy white clouds scattered throughout. The air was warm with a slight breeze that ruffled your dress as you walked over to the gazebo where the party was being held.
The party girl in question was your cousin Alessa who was lounging on a chair by the pool which your parents opened early for the party.
It was heated anyway so it didn’t matter that it wasn’t blistering hot outside people were enjoying it regardless.
Luckily for you (and Yoongi) someone grabbed your mom’s attention and she was off before you even had a chance to say another word to her.
“We could leave right now and no one would know,” Yoongi mutters in your ear as you shake your head and head over to Alessa.
“Hey!” You greet her as you take in her appearance. She is wearing a flowy red dress and her hands are wrapped around her stomach instinctively, her husband Jonathan waves from the pool where he is teaching their four-year-old daughter how to swim.
“Hi! Oh, I’m so sorry I seriously can’t get up right now your mom had me greeting like fifty different people and I’m exhausted.” She tells you as she swings her legs over the side of the lounge chair to side sideways and you wrap her in a hug.
Your cousin Alessa is three years older than you and absolutely glowing. Her first pregnancy was rough on her so when she announced she was pregnant again the family worried about her. Luckily this time around she seemed to have a much easier time and you were happy about that.
Yoongi shot her a small wave as you dug through your purse to pull out the card you got her. She beamed when you handed it over and patted the seat beside her so you could sit down.
Yoongi took the small folding chair next to her and the three of you chatted.
Party music filled the air and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. You took your time catching up with your favorite cousin as Yoongi listened on nodding occasionally.
Jonathan got out of the pool with Millie on his shoulders and plopped her down right next to her mom. Alessa laughed when Millie climbed on her lap and got her dress soaked with pool water, you scooted over to give the four-year-old some room
“Yoongi good to see you, man.” Jonathan greeted as he patted Yoongi’s back.
“So your mom said this was going to be a small party?” Jonathan said with a grin as his arm swept the area to show how many people turned up.
“I don’t know if they even know it’s for me!” Alessa said with a laugh.
“I don’t mind though good food and good company. I don’t want to be the center of attention anyway. Remember your high school graduation?” She teases as you cover your face with your hands and groan.
Your mom made you wear a bright pink sash that said High School Grad on it and paraded you around the whole party. You were so embarrassed.
“Don’t remind me!” You groaned as Yoongi laughed.
Her ears must have been ringing because suddenly your mom appeared at Jonathan’s side holding a platter of watermelon. She put it down in front of Alessa and smiled at your small group.
“There’s tons of food inside if anyone wants any. Yoongi made a beautiful meat and cheese tray.” Your mom gushes as you fight the urge to once again roll your eyes.
“Actually Y/N made that. I was working late last night so didn’t have a chance to help.” He corrects as you look up at him with a small smile on your face.
“Yoongi you work too hard! Always these late nights! Make sure you take care of yourself too. Don’t want to overwork.” Your mom comments as you reach for a piece of watermelon ignoring the way she didn’t say anything about you making the tray.
It doesn’t matter anyway, you stopped trying to get recognition from her years ago.
“And how’s the baby?” Your mom asks turning to Alessa who is sipping a drink and jostling Millie in her arms to get her more comfortable.
“Good! Kicking a lot today but I think it’s just because of the food. I ate that spicy nacho dip.” She says patting her swollen belly.
“Ah yes, when I was pregnant the first time I craved all spicy food all the time. Her brother was a menace with the kicks.” Your mom responds with a teasing smile as she shoots you a look you know all too well.
You brace yourself knowing the words that will come out of her mouth next
The question she has been asking ever since you brought Yoongi home for the first time.
“So Y/N when are you giving me grandbabies?” She asks turning to face you and staring between you and Yoongi.
Poor Yoongi had never experienced her questioning firsthand and nearly choked on his drink at her words.
You sighed.
“Mom I told you we aren’t ready yet.” You say as you reach for another piece of watermelon hoping she will drop the subject.
“Yes, but honey your father and I aren’t getting younger you know. We want to be grandparents before we pass away!” She says loudly drawing the attention of the crowds standing close by.
Shit.
“I know Mom just not right now okay? I promise you will have grandkids…someday.” You say keeping your answer vague.
“Come on you would look adorable pregnant and we could go shopping and pick out clothes oh! It would be so fun to be a grandmother!” Your mom continues to gush oblivious to your embarrassment and the way Yoongi’s cheeks are stained bright pink and how he won’t stop staring at the floor as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.
“Mom stop! You’re embarrassing Yoongi and I.” You respond trying to cut off her tangent.
“Think of all the money you will save!” Your mom continued, not bothering to listen to what you were saying.
Embarrassment floods your veins as you are stuck in your spot next to your cousin who looks just as horrified as you feel waiting for your mom to stop talking so loud and attracting so much attention.
“Mom stop! Kids are expensive we won’t be saving money.” You hiss standing up trying to get her to stop talking.
Your eyes flick to Yoongi who looks mortified.
“Well yes, but you will be saving money. Protection is so expensive nowadays not having to buy condoms anymore will save you so much money! Plus it will give me grandbabies.” She coos.
You stare at Yoongi in shock as he closes his eyes and buries his hands over his face. You close your eyes and try to think of a way to tell your mom to shut the hell up without sounding so rude.
Your saving grace comes in the form of your father who enters the scene and whispers something in your mom’s ear shutting her up instantly.
“Oh, my friend Melanie is here! Oh, I must go say hi I haven’t seen her in over two months!” She exclaims as she quickly turns and hurries to the front door to greet her friend.
You are still frozen in shock not daring to look around at the group of people who you feel are staring you down.
“Um wow,” Alessa says breaking the uncomfortable silence as you finally lift your head to see everyone has pretty much moved on and is talking amongst themselves again.
You stare at Yoongi who is a brilliant shade of red and still staring at the floor.
“I have no words. Please tell me that didn’t actually happen. My mom told me not to use protection in front of a crowd.” You whine out as Alessa rubs your back.
“I am so sorry but it did happen. And it was wild.” Jonathan says as you look at Yoongi who is still not saying anything but is squirming in his seat.
“Yoongs you okay?” You ask as he slowly sips his drink and nods at you, still looking super uncomfortable.
Millie decides to wake up at that moment and wants to play so Jonathan takes her out to the grass beyond the patio and pool where lawn games are set up.
Another cousin shows up and the conversation switches to girl talk as you try to push down your embarrassment from earlier.
After five minutes Yoongi stands and squeezes your shoulder telling you he is going to use the washroom and will be right back.
You stand to give him a peck on the cheek as you sit back down to continue your chat, slowly sipping your drink and people-watching.
You get so lost in the conversation you hardly notice Yoongi isn’t back yet but when Jonathan comes back with Millie you look around to realize Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.
“I’m gonna go inside and grab some food.” You tell your cousins as you push yourself up from the chair and walk over to the sliding door cracking it open and entering the quiet house, the noise from the party instantly muted.
You walk to the bathroom on the first floor to see it is free which means Yoongi must be using the upstairs one.
You kick off your heels as you make your way up the hardwood steps, bare feet silent on the floor.
You see the door is closed and you snicker before lightly knocking.
“Occupied!” Yoongi’s voice rings out as you smile.
“Yoongs it’s me.” You reply and you hear him rush to the door and throw it open. He grabs your arm and drags you inside the bathroom shutting the door with his foot and pinning you up against the vanity.
“Yoongi!” You exclaim as his lips find yours and he kisses you with such passion it steals your breath from your lungs.
His hands are holding your hips steady as he ruts into you, his body pushing against yours with such force the countertop bites into your skin.
“Yoongi baby. What’s going on?” You ask breathless as his lips move down to your neck and begin to suck and bite at the skin. His hands frantically rub your sides as he continues to grind his crotch into you.
“Need you. Fuck need you so bad.” He begs as he pulls the straps of your dress down to get more access to your skin and you throw your head back and moan.
His lips are hot against your skin and he is rutting into you in a way where you can feel the full length of his bulge pressing into your core. His hands grip your hips as he fucks into you with force which has your back arching and moans falling from your mouth.
You are in a lust-filled haze as Yoongi’s fingers trail up the slit in your dress, his fingers teasing the inside of your thighs you are about to open your legs and give him what he wants when you hear the sliding door open downstairs and you freeze.
Someone is in the house.
Yoongi doesn’t seem to hear it as he sucks a harsh mark on your neck and you put your hands on his chest to push him back as you hear footsteps downstairs.
“Yoongs we have to stop so-someone is in the house.” You say breathless as he finally looks up at you and you gasp.
His eyes are blown wide and so dark they are almost black. His tongue darts out to wet his swollen lips and his hair is a mess atop his head.
Yoongi lets out a whine and steps forward as you strain to hear if someone is still in the kitchen downstairs. He brings his head to your shoulder and begins to nuzzle your skin, small moans leaving his mouth.
“Yoongs baby what has gotten into you?” You ask softly petting his hair and trying to flatten it as his tongue darts out to lick at your skin.
“I got hard. So fucking hard so I came up here to see if I could make it go away and it won’t fucking go away.” He whines as he rolls his hips into yours giving you delicious friction against your core.
“And you thought furiously making out with me would make it go away?” You tease as he whines loudly against your skin and continues to rut against you desperately. His body still caging you in as he looks up at you through thick lashes and sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.
“I’m so horny and I tried everything to get it to go down but I’m so fucking hard. I didn’t jerk off because…well it’s weird to jerk off in my girlfriend’s parents’ bathroom but baby I’m so fucking horny. It won’t go away.” He whines softly still pouting as his lips come to find your neck once again and he delivers you soft kisses.
You hear the screen door close and you let out a sigh as you push him back from you once more.
“Yoongs baby what got you so horny? You fucked me last night remember?” You say blushing at the memory of you riding him and how good he felt stuffed inside of you.
“Don’t remind me, please. We want this to go away not get harder.” He begs as he buries his head into your chest and lets out a frustrated sigh.
You let out a soft laugh and rub his back affectionately.
You can still feel his cock pressing against your core and you reach a hand down between your bodies to stroke him. He closes his eyes and bites his lip to keep from moaning.
“What got you so horny Yoongs hmmm? My baby boy usually isn’t so desperate.” You say taking on the dominant role as Yoongi’s body seems to soften into yours.
Even though he likes being dominant you find he equally likes being subby and being your baby boy.
“Please don’t freak out.” He says in a small voice as you remove your hand from his cock to stroke at his hair.
The sliding door opens again downstairs and you continue to comfort him.
“Tell me, baby boy. What has my kitten all worked up?” You ask as he flutters his eyes closed and buries his face into your shoulder whining.
“Talking about you being pregnant. At first, I was horrified your mom would bring it up. But then. Thinking of you. Dripping with my seed. Pregnant with my child. All swollen and big… all because we fucked. And fucking you without a condom. God Y/N.” He whispers out as he starts to rut his hips into you again, pushing his cock into your hip and making you bite back a moan.
He ruts against you as you stroke his hair and give him soft kisses to his temple.
“I need to cum so bad, I don’t think my cock is ever going to go down.” He whimpers as he holds you steady and continues to grind against you. His greedy hands rubbing at the bare skin of your arms.
“So you have a pregnancy kink?” You question as he stills his movements to look up at you with lust-blown eyes.
“Yes? No? I don’t know I just know the thought of fucking you, filling you with my cum is making me painfully hard. Help. God, please touch me. Please do something. I can’t go back to the party like this.” He whines desperately as he captures your lips in a heated kiss.
His body is flushed against yours and his hands trail up and down your arms. You feel your core throb at his words as he continues to grind his hips into yours harder, desperate to seek some relief for his aching hard-on that is still trapped in his tight pants.
You part your legs to give him some room and he slots his bulge perfectly against your core. You let out a whine against his lips when he grinds into you frantically, practically humping your leg in the process.
“Want me to jerk you off baby boy? Make you cum around my fist?” You ask as he nods and bites his lip.
You pull away to reach between your bodies to undo the button of his jeans. When you slide the zipper down and open his pants his swollen cock quickly fills up the space and you tease the head of his cock with the tip of your finger.
“Wanna fuck you. God, please let me fuck you.” He begs out as his eyes start to water with desperate tears.
“Do you have a condom? We both aren’t ready for kids yet.” You remind him as you pull his pants down to his ankles and see his cock straining against the dark material of his tight boxers.
You let your fingers dance against his hard shaft and he whines.
“No, I forgot to replace the one in my wallet. I wanna fuck you so bad.” he almost cries.
You’ve seen Yoongi desperate before, usually when you are edging him or having him tied up but you have never seen him desperate like this.
His eyes are wide and tearful and his teeth are biting into his lip. His hands are still grabbing at your arms tightly and he looks on the verge of insanity.
“I know baby boy. I know you want to fuck me but we don’t have a condom so we can’t.”
He lets out a whine as tears slip from his eyes.
“How about I suck you off yeah? Get some of that tension out then when we get home I’ll let you fuck me however you want. With a condom on though. Okay, kitten?” You coo as he nods and you finally pull down his underwear.
What a sight his cock is.
Hard and leaking precum the head is red from the lack of attention and his shaft is twitching slightly.
He groans when you finally wrap a hand around it and you shush him with a giggle.
“You have to be a good Kitten and not make a sound okay? The whole party doesn’t need to know how desperate my baby boy is and how hard his cock is. God Yoongs your so fucking hard for me.” You whisper as you circle his cock and he buries his face on your shoulder to muffle his noises.
You jerk him slowly focusing on the head of his cock as Yoongi moans and whines into your shoulder. He is steadily leaking pre cum and you can feel how pent up he is by how his cock is throbbing in your hand.
“You have to be good now and don’t make noise. I’m gonna suck you off okay kitten. Be good for me yeah?” You ask as Yoongi nods and you sink to the floor sucking at the tip and making his eyes roll in the back of his head and his hips shoot forward.
You jerk his cock in tandem with your mouth and Yoongi is doing everything in his power to stay quiet. Your mouth feels so good against his aching shaft and he can’t help but curl his toes against the tile floor when you take him deep.
Your nose presses against his pubes and he lets a filthy moan slip from his lips. You pull back immediately and look up at him, stilling your movements and driving him to insanity.
“Please don’t stop, please. Y/N I’m so hard it hurts I need to cum please.” He begs out as tears slip down his cheeks.
You lap at the tip of his cock again making him shove his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming. His hands come to tangle in your hair as he forces himself to breathe through his nose and not wildly fuck your throat.
Your hand leaves his shaft to play with his balls which are swollen and begging to be touched. Your hand comes up to fondle them and Yoongi throws his head back as a stifled moan leaves his mouth.
You can feel your own arousal slick on your thighs as you watch Yoongi inch toward orgasm as you work him harder.
You grin against his cock and wrap your fingers around his shaft again. You deep-throat him down and Yoongi lets out a choked moan as he shoves his fingers in his mouth.
“Tell me Yoongs what do you want baby boy?” You ask pulling off from him and resting your head on his shaky thigh.
“Wanna fuck your throat. Please Y/N, please. I’m so close. It hurts. Please I wanna cum” He begs as you obey and suck him back into your mouth and keep your head steady.
His hands come to brace your head and he begins to fuck into your mouth. Softly at first to get you used to the feeling and then he starts to pick up the pace.
He fucks into your mouth harshly as his hands grasp at your hair making your scalp sting. He is trying his best to stay quiet above you as you open your throat wider and tears cloud your vision as he chokes you with his cock.
“Please Y/N, please. I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum. Ohmygod please.” he cries out as he continues to harshly fuck your mouth and you open it wider.
He wails and cums down your throat as you swallow all he gives you.
You keep your nose pressed against his pubes as you swallow him down and soak in the noises he is making above you, somewhere between a groan and a sob as he slows his thrusts.
You take your time pulling off his softening cock and you lick his cockhead clean before standing up on shaky legs to stare at Yoongi.
His hair is a sweaty mess and his eyes are still blown wide. His lips are bruised from all the biting and he looks blissfully fucked out.
“Thank you thank you thank you.” He praises you as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and kisses you softly. You can feel the relief radiating off of him.
“Feel better Kitten?” You mutter against his lips as he pulls back and nods suddenly looking shy.
“You are so good to me. God how did I get so lucky.” He praises you as he strokes your hair and continues to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks.
“I’m the lucky one Yoongs.” You respond as he pulls away and fixes his wild hair.
Your arousal is leaking down your thighs and you grimace when you feel it.
“What’s wrong baby?” He asks as you reach for some toilet paper to get yourself cleaned up.
“Seeing you like that got me all wet. Just gotta get cleaned up kitten.” You say slowly cleaning between your legs.
“I can take care of that you know.” He reminds you with a smirk as you softly smile at him.
“I know you can Kitten but we have been gone from the party long enough because my baby boy was a needy little thing and needed to fuck my throat to feel better.” You remind him as he buries his face in your neck and whines.
“Don’t. Y/N please dont we just got my cock to soften.” He begs as you let out a small chuckle.
“Sorry, Yoongi. I’ll save it for later. Now come on we gotta go back or people will get suspicious.” You say grabbing his hand and exiting the bathroom.
“We could just leave… you know. Take care of things now?” He teases you with a lift of an eyebrow and wink as you smack his arm softly and lead your boy back out to the sunshine and the party.
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unclewaynemunson · 10 months
Text
Pt2 to this post. At this point it looks like there’ll be 4 parts in total :)
Robin is basically seething with rage when she walks into Thatcher Tire before the start of her own shift at Family Video. After a month of Steve being happier than she had ever seen him before, he showed up on her doorstep on the verge of tears last night. She had to listen to him talk about Eddie until well after midnight. About Eddie, who had apparently only been “fucking around” with him for the past month, while Steve was falling head-over-heels for him.
Robin liked Eddie, of course she did. But one part of her had not even been surprised about this turn of events. It was the part of her that had never fully trusted Eddie – the part she had tried her very best to shut up because she didn't want to believe in the possibility of it being right.
It was the part of her that had been warning her that something about Eddie and Steve seemed off right from the beginning: how Steve was falling, with complete faith and no safety net, while Eddie was... Well, it wasn't like he was actively mean or cruel in any way. It wasn't like he seemed to be using Steve or like he wasn't really into him. None of that. But there had always been this something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Now she finally knows what it was.
She has dozens of questions ready to fire at him. Did he ever even notice how fragile Steve really is, underneath those leftover pieces from his high school days? How lonely he is? Does he even know how badly that boy wants to be loved? Does he know how much it broke Robin's heart when she couldn't give that love to Steve in the way he wanted her to? Will it break Eddie's heart, too, when he realizes what he has done to Steve? Or did he already know, all this time? Has he just been playing some cruel game for a whole fucking month?
So she barges into the garage and marches purposefully towards the backroom with her battle baret all dusted off for the occasion, ready to tell Eddie exactly what she thinks of him. But she stops in her tracks when she hears Eddie's voice emerge from the room, sounding like he's already caught up in some kind of heated conversation himself.
'Right?! I mean, can you believe this shit?! He just shows up with goddamn flowers like we're – like we're actually together or some shit!'
It's silent for a while and it takes Robin a few seconds to realize that he must be on the phone.
'He's hot, okay?' Eddie continues, in a voice that could best be described as distressed. 'And the kids like him, he's cute, there was no reason not to say yes when he asked me out. But it was never supposed to – we were just supposed to have some fun and leave it at that.' He actually sounds like he's on the verge of tears by now.
'Because this was never the fucking plan!' he answers a question asked from the other end of the line. 'If he's gonna continue like this, all sweet and caring and giving me flowers and shit... I'm gonna fall in love with him, Jeff, I'm serious! I don't even know why he's doing this – he probably just wants to know that he can, you know. Give his ego a little boost and laugh at me when he finds out it's actually working. It's cruel, it's really fucking cruel.'
There's another beat of silence.
'You're a lifesaver,' Eddie then says. 'And bring that one ice cream, you know the one, with the pecan and the – exactly! And maybe some of your mom's chocolate pie if she still has – thank you, my hero. Oh, and don't forget to say hi to your mom from me.'
While Eddie hangs the phone back on the hook, Robin takes her final step around the corner.
'Is that really what you think of him?'
Eddie jumps up when he sees Robin standing in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest and one of her most scathing looks on her face.
'What the hell, Buck? Were you eavesdropping on my phone call?'
'You really think he's the cruel one?' she repeats, ignoring his indignant question. 'Then why did he show up at my door yesterday night looking like a heap of misery and telling me how his boyfriend turned out to only have been his hookup all this time?'
'Look, Buckley, I – wait, what?'
'What?'
'His what now?'
And the utterly confused look on his face tells her more than enough. He didn't know, she realizes. He truly didn't know what Steve felt for him.
'You fucking dummy!'
'I – what did you just call me?'
'A dummy.' Okay, it's not exactly the best insult she ever came up with, but she has no choice but to double down on it now.
'No, earlier, you – you said – his boyfriend,' Eddie stutters out.
Robin merely shoots him an unimpressed glance.
'Steve thought we were boyfriends?!' he exclaims in a shrill voice. He looks at her like she just dropped some news about Vecna returning to Hawkins.
'Do you really have to look that disgusted about it?'
'No, I wasn't – Are you playing some kind of twisted prank on me here?'
'Do I look like this is a prank?'
He narrows his eyes at her. 'But... Why the hell would he want us to be boyfriends?'
'Because he liked you, you idiot!' she yells at him. 'Because he asked you out and you said yes and you were nice to him! Because he basically had those obnoxious little pink hearts floating around his head whenever you were together! Because you treated him with more kindness and respect than any girl he's ever dated before – well, until he wanted to celebrate your anniversary and you basically told him to fuck off when he wanted to take care of you while you were sick! Which you clearly aren't, by the way!'
'Don't be ridiculous here,' Eddie shoots back at her. 'Why would he ever want me to be his boyfriend?'
'Because – are you even listening to me?! Because he's in love with you!'
'Come on, Robin, you can't actually believe that,' he says, a tensed chuckle coloring the end of the sentence. 'He's Steve Harrington.' And he says that name in such a snide tone that it makes Robin flinch on her best friend's behalf.
'I mean, sure, he's fallen from his throne and all that,' he continues, 'but no one really changes that much. He was a dick! Don't you remember how he treated your band friends? Don't you remember how completely invisible you were to him? Don't you remember the names he called people like us? All the people he'd knock down to lift himself up?'
She doesn't avert her gaze, but only lifts her chin.
'You don't need to remind me,' she tells Eddie, trying her very best to sound as calm as possible. 'I remember. But I also remember how he snuck the most nerdy kids I ever met into the back of our ice cream store to let them watch movies for free. And I remember how he stuffed them with free ice cream when nobody was watching. I remember how he spent hours giving Dustin advice about his girlfriend – the advice was terrible, frankly, but that's not the point, it was well-meant.' No, stop, don't get distracted, she sternly tells herself, steering back to the topic at hand.
'I remember how he did everything in his power to get Dustin and Erica to safety when we all got caught in a goddamn nightmare. I remember how he almost died taking a bunch of punches for me.' She takes a quick breath before she goes on. 'I remember how he broke down in my arms because he felt so guilty about the person he used to be, the people he hurt when he was this asshole teenage boy doing asshole teenage boy shit. I remember how dumb he felt when he didn't get into any colleges again, I remember how scared he was when he figured out he liked boys, I remember how you were the one who made him finally feel some self-worth again when you guys started dating... And you know what else I remember? How you broke his heart yesterday. So you don't have to tell me what a dick he is, Eddie Munson. If you need to point fingers and call someone a dick so bad, don't you dare come for Steve. You better look in the mirror for that.'
Pt3 is here!
(Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)
The amount of people asking to be tagged has frankly been unreal, woah! It honestly means so fucking much to me that you care enough about this silly lil story to ask for a tag 🥹 Seriously, thank you so much, and I hope you liked this part / the way the story is unfolding. I’d love to hear what y’all think <3
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xiakato · 5 months
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YUJIN- Fantasize(M)
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Yujin’s pov
There he is again, his perfect face, hair and height. He’s just my type, the way he smiles, he’s just ugh.  The thoughts of putting it down on him day and night runs through her mind but she knows she needs to hold back.
“Yujin?” His voice rings throughout her ears, sending shivers down her spine.
“Oh Hi Y/n oppa, h-how are you?” I smile at him as he walks up to me, towering over me, his cologne invading my senses. He smells so good.
“Oh I’m better now that I see you,”  He smiles as he takes my hand and kisses the back of it. I blush looking up at him.
“O-oh stop it Y/n you’re making me blush,” I giggle as his thumb glides across my hand softly, “So what brings you here today Y/n?” 
“Mom asked me to drop by to give something to Gaeul,” He says as he walks over to her, dropping the bag on her lap. 
“You should stay for the performance Y/n,” I say to him hoping he will say yes.
“Sure I have some time I can stay and watch,” He smiles as the staff comes to tell us it’s time to start the performance of our song for the music show so we hurry to the stage and Y/n makes his way to the crowd. 
“Yujinnie I have a question for you,” Gaeul says as we walk and get our mics on. 
“What’s up?” I ask as I start to sip on some water.
“Do you like my brother?” She asks me, I spit out my water, looking over at her, she stares at me blankly as I nod shyly, she smiles, “I’ll be rooting for you but if you hurt him so help me god.” 
“I won’t hurt him, I’ll never dream of it,” I smile at her as we make our way onto the stage, my eyes racing through the crowd looking for him. My eyes land on him, his eyes meeting mine, making my heart skip beat. I look away trying to calm myself down as we get to our places. 
Third person POV 
Y/n watches on from the crowd, his eyes constantly on Yujin, the way she was on stage drew him in. His eyes travel around her body as she dances, luring him in even more. The song ends and he walks back to the waiting room, they come into the room shortly after and he praises each of them personally till he gets to Yujin and they just stand there staring at each other. 
“Just kiss already,” Rei blurts out, making the others burst out laughing, while the two of them blush, not breaking their eye contact. He makes his move giving her a quick peck on her lips, ‘soft’ he thinks to himself as he pulls away and quickly leaves the room, embarrassed of what he just did. Ignoring the squels that can make high school girls jealous, he rushes out of the building, his mind racing with what he just did. Kissing her hand is different from kissing her lips. But they were soft and supple.  Hearing footsteps behind him, he looks behind him and it’s Yujin. She smiles when he looks at her and she runs up to him and kisses him.
“I’ll call you later okay?” She says as he just nods as his mind malfunctions. She giggles and runs back inside leaving him as his operating system reboots. He gets in his car trying to calm down his smile.  Driving back home, he crashes on the couch staring at the ceiling as she runs through his mind. Hours fly by without him noticing as his phone pings. He checks it, it’s Yujin asking if she can come over.He texts her back quickly and then sets his phone down and waits. Twenty minutes pass, when a knock on his door echoes through the entrance way. He gets up, running to the door, opening it up seeing her in her outfit from the stage. He smiles as he lets in her. 
“Last time I was here, it was for a celebration for our debut.” 
“It was, I made sure that this place was clean though that time. So sorry for the mess this time, work was hectic this past week so I didn’t really have time to clean.” 
“Oh it’s fine, it’s still somewhat clean,” She says as she lays on the couch and stretches, arching her back. He stares at her, his heart beating in his chest. 
“How was your schedule today?” He asks her as you get a glass of water to give to her.
“It was great, you being there for the music show today made it so much better,” She looks over at him, accepting the glass of water. 
“I’m glad that I could make your day better.”  
She smiles and drinks the water, he sits down in one of the chairs leaning back. Her eyes trace up his figure, flashes of him on top of her, deep inside of her going off in her mind. He looks at her, a few strands of his hair falling in front of his eyes. She gulps, staring at him, making up her mind. She stands up walking over to him straddling him. She giggles as his eyes widen at her sudden movement, she moves his hands onto her ass, “You can make it even better though.” 
“And how can I do that?” He asks her, as she wraps her arms around his neck as she fake ponders for a moment.
“Be mine Y/n, and only mine.” 
“Oka-” He gets cut off as she kisses him, the lust and passion is equal as her hips start to grind against his crotch. He squeezes her ass making her moan into the kiss. She pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva working as a bridge between her mouth and his. She slides to the ground, getting onto her knees as she makes short work of his belt and trousers, pulling them down just enough to fish his cock out. 
She smiles, biting her lip as she starts to stroke it, “Do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about this cock of yours?”  He shakes his head no, “So fucking much,” She peppers kisses up and down his shaft, “This big fat cock destroying me,” She takes him into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his as she takes him deeper and deeper into her mouth, pulls him out letting his cock glide against her tongue, “You taste so fucking good.” 
“Keep sucking baby,” He mutters out, making her giggle as she keeps stroking his cock spreading her spit. 
“I have an even better idea,” she scoots back a little pulling him to his feet, smiling as his cock swings in front of her, “Face fuck me.” 
“Are you sure?” He asks, his hands already gripping onto her head, she nods, getting him back into her mouth. He pushes as deep down her throat as she will let him. Her gags fill the room as she rests her hands on his thighs, she keeps looking at him. Well trying to keep looking at him, as she taps his thigh making him pull out. 
“Fuck,” She coughs a little, saliva cascading from her mouth, “Again,” She takes him back into her mouth allowing him to use her mouth for his pleasure, she feels her juices running down her leg, soaking up her panties.
“What a needy bitch you are,” He grunts as she gags trying to get him deeper in her throat. She pulls away again coughing, spreading her spit on his cock. 
“Fuck yes, only for you Daddy,” The smile that hasn’t left her face since she has got here, “I’m a needy slut for you.” 
He pulls Yujin to her feet pushing her to the couch with her ass facing him as he rips her pants, “you’re drenched,” Y/n pulls her panties to the side, setting his eyes on her glistening pussy for the first time, rubbing his tip against her clit, she moans softly and whines.
“Don’t tease me Daddy please just fuck me, use me please Daddy I need it,” She pleads wiggling her ass. Y/n can’t help but to chuckle and smile at the needness of her, slapping her ass and hearing her whimper. He slides into her, she tightens around him, “Fuck yes, give it to me I need all of you daddy,” He slams the rest in making her scream out in pleasure, “FUCK YES!” he starts pounding her into the couch, her ass jiggling as he slams himself in and out of her, “Harder! break me daddy!” 
Y/n slams harder and harder into her, pulling her hair, “You’re fucking mine bitch,” He growls as he keeps going with one goal in mind and that’s to break her. Her legs start shaking and her moans echoes through the room. 
“I-I-I’m going to c-c-cum,” She cries out as she squirts all over the couch, making a puddle on the floor. He pulls out and she squirts again, her legs shake as she falls over onto the couch trying to catch her breath and waiting for her body to calm down. She peeks over at him, her eyes trained onto his cock now glistening from her juices. Y/n picks her up walking her to the room, dropping her on the bed and spreading her legs wide and pushing them up towards her head, “U-use me,” she tells him even though she knows that he is going to. Pushing himself back into her, Yujin is just as tight as she was before she was stretched out, Y/n rests his forehead onto hers as he fucks her hard making thighs ripple, making her stare into his eyes, “I love you I love you I love you,” She says repeating as she cums again flooding the bed. She feels him cum deep in her, filling her womb, “so warm daddy.” 
“Let's get you cleaned up,” Y/n pulls out of her and watches his cum drip out of her, he smiles as he helps her get out of her clothes and gives her some of his to wear and quickly changes the sheets. 
“I love you Y/n.” 
“I love you Yujin.”
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