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#K-pop soft thoughts
herslvt · 11 months
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Kpop Soft Thougts with Ateez Hyung Line
From a black female writer -
I think my bias is very evident in my writing 😭 I'm ot8 I promise (I'm confused that's what I am)
This was very self indulgent, anyway go read the Maknae version
Maknae Version
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ATEEZ members who spoil the literal hell out of you and treat you like a princess in their own individual ways.
Hongjoong! will take you to the studio with him and let you sit in his lap, knowing it's distracting for him but he doesn't care because he loves you and wants you to be happy. He'd rather be couped up in the studio with you than anywhere else and honestly you don't mind.
Hongjoong! Who randomly shows up to you apartment with food at random hours because in his words he had an incling you were hungry, he in fact was always right and you never understood how. (I am a strong believer that seonghwa and wooyoung are the exact same way)
Seonghwa! Who begs you to let him try to style you hair whether it be natural or in braids or even if your a wig wearer. He will find cute hair styles on Pinterest and learn to do them to make you smile. (This resonated with yeosang also)
Seonghwa! Who calls you randomly to make sure your okay mentally and will show up at your apartment at the first sign that you're not. He will treat you like an Angel, coddling you until you feel better regardless of what he had to do that day.
Yunho! Treats you like a doll, buys you whatever you want and refuses to tell you no. You don't even have to beg (he might make you just because he loves the sight of you begging) You want to go out for lunch? He'll find time. You want to get your hair done? He's getting it done. He doesn't care!
Yunho! Sleeps holding you in his arms because he loves the way you feel under him. Will quite literally cage you in and not let you go, not even on purpose he just can't bare to sleep without you. You're his peace and he needs you to sleep through the night ♡ (MINGI, MINGI, MINGI like best friend like best friend I literally think he'd be the exact same way)
Yeosang! You're his pretty little princess and because of that he likes to leave very expensive gifts around your apartment randomly for you to find. You tell him to cut it out but he just can't stop. You found a pair of Chanel earrings in your dish washer and almost strangled him. He means well though so just accept the gifts and don't speak about where you found them.
Yeosang! Who has movie nights with you where the two of you build a fort in your living room. The floor covered in snacks as you both cuddle under each other and watch the princess and the frog for the 2,000th time since you've been dating. He'll never admit it but he secretly refers to you as his Evangeline when talking about you to others. They'd never understand it but he does and that's all that matters.
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daydreamingyuta · 11 months
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127 Nicknames for you
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Taeil and Doyoung: Darling 
 “Do you mind coming to the store with me real quick, darling?” He says as he places a kiss on your temple.
“Darling.” He says, looking up at you in awe of how beautiful you are. 
Jungwoo: Honey
“Honeyyy” He wines, you have been working for what feel like forever and all he wants you to do is give him attention.  
Mark and Johnny: Baby, Beautiful, and Angel
- Baby would be more causal. 
“Here you go, baby.” He says as he hands you the drink you requested.
- He would save Beautiful for when he’s in a flirting mood. 
“Hi beautiful” He practically whispers as he gives you a million kisses on your cheek and neck causing you to blush. 
- Angel would be when he is totally and completely enamored with you. 
“Angel.” is all he can say after you walked into the room with a brand new dress, leaving him breathless. 
Jaehyun: Love
“You look extra cute today love.” He says, winking at you.
“Anything for you, love.” He says smiling up at you, showing off his cute dimples.
Yuta and Haechan: Princess
“I missed you so much Princess.” He says as he pulls you into a long awaited hug after being apart for months.
“You’re blushing, Princess.” Which of course only makes you blush worse. 
Taeyong: Sunshine
“My sunshine.” He says absent-mindedly and half asleep as you let your fingers comb through his hair. 
(He also would absolutely write a song for you and call it sunshine.) 
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hcneyflower · 13 days
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Sorry, I licked the frosting off the cake pop before the picture 🍰💋
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writers-ex · 1 year
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@itzy0megaverse thank you for the CUTEST mood board of having a library date with Lia~
fluffy hours are always opened too ^^
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freedomfireflies · 5 months
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Uppercut*
Summary: The fourth part to Knockout*
The one where Harry is fighting everyone. Even you.
Word Count: 9.1k (I mean at this point it's just tradition)
Content Warning: 18+, angst, smut, exhibitionism
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The halls of the subway station are quiet. Empty. A light flickers overhead, casting odd shadows across the concrete floor that lead you toward him.
The hooded figure sits on a lone bench, face downcast toward the ground. His leg is bouncing anxiously, a nervous habit you’d recognize anywhere. His fingers are curled around the seat below, as if holding himself back. Keeping himself still.
And then, he looks up.
Those soft green eyes find yours, and suddenly, everything is okay. Your limbs no longer ache from the strenuous shift at the diner, your heart no longer feels weary. You feel energized and alive, and you’ve never been happier to see his face.
Harry smiles when he recognizes you, instantly leaping up as you approach, and pulling you into his arms.
He hugs you. Pulls you directly into his chest and keeps you there as you laugh and whisper your hello.
“Hi,” he whispers back, lips nestling into the crown of your head. He releases a deep sigh. “Missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” You cling to his sweatshirt and allow your eyes to flutter shut. Indulging in the scent of him. The warmth. Stability. “Are you all right?”
“Better now. Are you?”
“Mhm.” You nod but refuse to let him go. “Was a little surprised to get your note, though.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs before finally pulling away. Allowing himself a good look at your face that makes his dimple pop free. “Figured it was the safest way. Don’t wanna risk somebody seeing us out there. And I thought maybe this could be our thing.”
“Our thing?”
He chuckles to himself and brings his palm to your cheek. Cradling it gently while running his thumb back and forth along the soft skin. “Yeah. Meeting up in the dark subway in the early morning hours. Sneaking around, trying not to get caught. Forbidden love and all that.”
Love. There’s that word again, and it makes your head spin. Dizzy in the best and worst way possible.
“How romantic of you,” you tease instead, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “All right. This can be our thing.”
“Good.” He dips down and kisses you now. Slow and hard, exactly the way you like it. Keeping you against his lips for far longer than he should, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Might steal you away every night.”
With a soft grin of your own, you kiss him back. “You better.”
After allowing you enough time to catch your breath, he leads you back over to his bench. Curling up beside you while simultaneously tucking you into his side. Hiding you away from the rest of the world, and the few stragglers that are entering and exiting the subway. 
“Did you have a good day?” he asks, mouth ghosting across your temple as he speaks.
You nod, keeping yourself snug under his arm. “Mhm. Wasn’t as busy as it usually is.”
“Yeah? You make anything good?”
“Snickerdoodle cookies.”
He gasps, rather dramatically, and it makes you laugh. “Cherry, you know those are my favorite.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really, really.” He kisses your cheek almost absentmindedly before continuing. “Especially the way you make ‘em. Told you that, didn’t I?”
“Maybe. Don’t know if I was really listening, though.”
“No? You don’t listen when I talk, sweet girl?”
You smirk. “Sometimes I get a little distracted.”
“With what, baby?”
“Your…mouth,” you admit somewhat sheepishly. “Sometimes I just like to watch your lips move. And then I forget to listen to what’s coming out of them.”
He laughs now, and the sound is infectious. Bouncing around the concrete walls until you giggle. “Is that right?”
“It’s not my fault,” you pout playfully, reaching up to brush your thumb along the pretty, pink fibers at your disposal. They’re healing nicely from the last fight, and you feel relieved. “You have such a pretty face.”
He hums against your finger before pressing into it, leaving a soft kiss. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“So do you,” he whispers, dropping his voice into something soft and seductive. “See your face in mind every time I close my eyes.”
And it shouldn’t make your stomach flutter the way it does, but you find yourself biting back a sigh as you scoot impossibly closer. “You’re silly.”
“Am I?” Another kiss to your thumb before he moves down your hand and toward your wrist. Leaving a trail of them in his wake. “What if m’being serious?”
Your breath catches and you watch his mouth move closer and closer. “Then you’re seriously silly.”
His lips twitch up. “If I am, it’s because that’s what you make me.” Another collection of gentle kisses along the inside of your arm. “Think about you every hour…of every goddamn day.”
You feel lost on him. Drowning in his aurora, and this hypnotic haze he’s lured you into. Unaffected by the people around you, or the way this might look. 
All you really notice…is him.
“And believe me, sweet girl,” he continues in a huskier murmur, “the things I think about are anything but silly.”
Your pulse skips from somewhere beneath your chest while a whimper bleeds from your throat. You brace yourself against his stronger frame as his kisses reach the sleeve of your uniform, just beneath your shoulder.
He only stops once to meet your eye. “D’you wanna know what I think about, baby?”
Your first instinct is to nod, but you catch yourself just in time. Forcing yourself to finally say the one thing you’ve been meaning to all evening. “I wanna know what you’re gonna do about Jesse.”
He leans back, and the devious expression falls away.
“I don’t want him to hurt you, Harry,” you rush to explain, allowing him to drop your arm only so you can take hold of his. “I’m worried about you.”
“Please,” he snorts. “Jesse can’t fucking hurt me. Couldn’t hurt me even when he was in the fucking ring with me.”
Your eyebrow cocks up. “…what?”
A nonchalant shrug, almost like he doesn’t realize what he’s said. Or he doesn’t care. “Few years ago, back when he wasn’t such a little shit. He was one of the fighters."
And suddenly…it hits you. Slaps you across the face and leaves a permanent palm print. “How many years ago?”
He seems to realize around the same time you do, eyes softening as he rolls his shoulders back. “Three or four, I think.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. Feel your hands grow shaky and your heart begin to wrench. “He was…he was fighting. When he was with me.”
Not exactly a question. Rather a conclusive statement you both stumble onto as the picture becomes clearer.
There were a lot of things about Jesse you never learned. His anger always being his biggest question mark.
You saw the subtle scars that were occasionally smeared along his knuckles or painted across his back. But his excuse was always a vague, mumbled explanation of, “Oh, just this buddy of mine at the gym. We like to box sometimes. I’m fine.”
And that was that.
You figured what he did at the gym was his own business. And you had no reason to believe it was anything more than a few rounds with a friend. Had no reason to believe it was something bigger. That he was lying to you.
And perhaps, in some ways, he wasn’t lying. He was boxing, just not at the local gym. And certainly not for free.
“Cherry,” Harry calls to you now, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Tugging your hands onto his lap to recapture your attention. “Baby—”
“I’m okay,” you whisper, a bit airier than you mean to before clearing your throat. “I’m fine. I always knew he was doing something, I just…this makes sense.”
He’s unconvinced, frowning to himself before squeezing your palms. “You might not have known him very well, but I do. Okay, I know this side of him, and I know that he’s nothing more than a bunch of empty threats and a checkbook. And I’m not gonna let him hurt me. Or you. Never you.”
And even though your stomach is turning, you believe him. “I know. But what if…what if he tries to do something? To you, during your fights? What if…what if he sends somebody after you?”
To your surprise, he smirks. “Come on, do you really think I’m scared of some hitman? I know you haven’t seen very many of my fights, but believe me, baby, I can handle it.”
You, however, don't smile. “Harry, I’m serious.”
“I thought I was serious.”
“Harry.” You pout again and tug on his hands. “You didn’t see how angry he was—”
“I did,” he argues, the smug grin slipping away. “I know exactly how fucking mad he was, and all because I lost him a couple of fights. And I don’t give a shit because he’s nothing but a fucking rat.”
“Yeah. But he’s a rat that’s threatening to hurt you.”
The darkened expression returns, and his frown makes you want to cry. He’s far too beautiful to look so anguished. “I don’t care. I told you, he can’t hurt me—”
“But he can hurt me,” you interrupt, and his jaw snaps shut. “By hurting you, he hurts me. I mean, just the way he looked at you. The way he talked about you, it just…it…God, it made my fucking skin crawl, Harry.”
The crasser language that slips from your tongue seems to entertain him and disappoint him all in the same moment.
“Okay,” he mumbles in a lower volume, almost as though hoping to talk you down. “Okay, I know—”
“No, you don’t know,” you argue. “You…you don’t want him to hurt me, and yet he is. And he doesn’t have to, okay? You just have to win, and he doesn’t care. As long as you win.”
The frown seems to get deeper. “Cherry…it’s not just about winning. He’s put a fucking price on my head and expects me to pay it. And I told you, I’m tired of playing his fucking games.”
You squeeze his hands a bit harder, desperate to understand. “Is that why you threw the fights?” you ask gently. “To piss him off?”
Another shrug. Angrier. “Not exactly. I just figured he’d drop me if I wasn’t doing the one thing he wanted me to.”
Your eyes flick between his. “But it’s not that easy.”
“No,” he agrees. “Because he’s a fucking weasel that thinks he can use you to get what he wants from me. And I won’t let him.”
Your heart drops into your toes as the two of you grow quiet. Undeterred by the sounds of the subway entering and exiting the station, the screeching lines and opening doors. You’re immersed in your own little bubble here with him, unable to hear anything past the pounding in your ears. 
“So what do we do?” you dare to ask.
He sighs again before bringing your entangled hands to his mouth. Kissing your fingers as he thinks. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly, and it looks like he wants to say more…but he stops.
So, you finish for him. “Let’s leave.”
“What?”
You nod quicky and glance toward the tracks. “Let’s leave. Let’s just get on the train and go somewhere. Start a new life. No more Jesse, no more fights, no more threats. We can just leave.”
A hint of a smile is all you’re afforded before he chuckles and kisses your hands once more. “And I thought I was the silly one.”
“No, I mean it,” you insist. “We could, we could leave, we could start over. We could be happy. Just you and me. And a bunch of pies.”
There’s a gentle beat before his brows begin to furrow. “Cherry,” he mumbles, and you feel your heart sink.
You knew it was a long shot. Knew there was really no logic behind the suggestion, only the need to take action. And for just a moment, you liked the picture you were painting. Of you and him in a sweet little house somewhere out in the country. Working your typical 9 to 5 jobs before coming home to make dinner together.
Perhaps it's a little old fashioned and a bit mundane, but it looks so beautiful compared to what you have now. And you imagine any life would be exciting with him at the center of it.
“I know,” you finally whisper, allowing your shoulders to slump. “But…I had to try.”
His amused grin returns before he tugs you closer in order to kiss you. And it’s quick and playful and everything you’ve ever needed. An almost perfect fix for this ache in your chest.
“And I love that,” he tells you, and the second use of the forbidden word leaves you breathless. Even more so than the kisses. “But m’gonna be okay, sweet girl. I won’t let him hurt us.”
And you want to believe him. Want to be sure that Jesse is nothing more than a footnote in this new chapter you’ve opened together. 
But something doesn’t feel right. 
Because there’s this look in his eye. The same look you saw that night in the ring. Animalistic and unrelenting. Like he could split somebody in half and never think twice about it.
“And how are you gonna do that?” you whisper, reaching out to tangle your fingers in the hoodie on his chest. “Huh? Are you just gonna beat him up until he changes his mind?”
“Maybe.” He’s smiling, but there’s something serious in the way he speaks, and your stomach wrenches. “What? He’s used to getting the shit beat out of him.”
“Harry—”
“Cherry.” He leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek. “Don’t have to worry, okay? I’ll be all right.”
You’re ready to argue with him, another excuse already locked and loaded, but before you can fire it, he brings his hand to your temple. Sweeping his thumb along your forehead with a much softer expression.
“You know, you get the cutest little wrinkle when you frown,” he tells you, brushing his finger down the space between your eyebrows. “Right…here.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from giggling. “Oh, do I?”
“Mhm.” He smooths his touch along your skin before moving to your jaw. Tracing the line almost reverently. “There’s a lot of things about you that are cute.”
“Is that right?”
He nods once before he’s dropping both hands to your hips in order to lead you over to his lap. Placing your knees on either side of his waist and holding you there while you squeal.
And he doesn’t seem to care about anything else but you. Not the people walking by or the chilly gust of wind that dances through the station. He gazes up at you and brushes a bit of hair behind your ear. Taking in the details of your face as if memorizing every inch of you. 
“I think you’re beautiful, Cher,” he tells you, and not for the first time. “And I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you settle, finding stability in more ways than one. “Well, I think you’re being silly again.”
“Yeah?” He smirks as you dip down to brush your nose with his. “Then maybe I need to prove to you just how much I mean it.”
One of his large hands slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing you just over your uniform. And you laugh as you playfully swat at his chest, although you can’t deny there’s a part of you desperately searching for more.
Ever since the other night, you’ve felt rather insatiable. Distracted by the memory of him in your hand – of the weight and the feel. You see his body when you close your eyes, see the tattoos, and ridges, and lines. The curve of his spine and his hips and his thighs. 
And you’re reminded again of exactly how thrilling it was when you feel him beneath you. A gentle, subtle graze of something hard as you’re rocked over his lap. And it makes your breath catch.
“Harry,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.
His lashes flutter closed before he ghosts his lips along the edge of your cheek. “What, baby?”
Another pull to your hips makes you sigh, fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. “This isn’t fair.”
“Why?”
“Because…” You stumble over a whine before bracing yourself against his chest. “Because we can’t. Not here.”
“Not here?” he repeats, almost teasingly. “Why not here? Don’t want them to watch, sweet girl?”
You don’t have the strength to shake your head.
“Don’t want them to watch you grind yourself against my lap, like my desperate little bunny?” He grins and it’s so very devious. “Don’t want them to see just how needy you really get for me?”
And maybe…there’s a small part of you that does.
Common sense evades you now as you pant, “I do. I do, Harry, please.”
He’s amused by this. At your determination to take whatever he'll give. Soft, gentle hands slipping their way beneath the hem of your uniform, stroking and groping as though playing with you. Taunting you with the idea of more only to take it away with a kiss.
“Do you trust me?” he asks you now, eyes flicking to yours.
It’s the easiest answer you’ve given all night. “Yes. Yes, I do. Always.”
He smiles, filled with relief before he’s nodding his chin at you. “Okay, baby. Turn around for me, yeah?”
A bit confused, you rearrange yourself over his lap. Settling down with your back against his chest while his hands sneak around your waist to keep you still.
Those beautiful fingers land on your thighs, just above the hem of your dress. They toy with the fabric almost absentmindedly and you whimper beneath a strained breath as you wait.
“Shh,” he coos, resting his lips along the shell of your ear. “I’ve got you. Told you I’ll always take care of you, didn’t I?”
You nod as your head falls back onto his shoulder. Unable to hold itself up any longer while he does this to you.
Your attention lands on the train just a few hundred feet in front of you as it slowly begins to roll down the tracks before taking off. A gust of wind follows, sweeping across your cheek, and sending a chill down your spine.
Your small shiver makes him smirk. “Relax, Cherry. You’re all right.”
There are only three other people in the station, all scattered about on opposite ends, checking their phones, and reading their newspapers. None of them close enough to see what he’s really doing to you, and you imagine even if they could, they wouldn’t care. 
Yet the idea that any one of them could look up and glance over is thrilling. Worsening the ache between your thighs as Harry’s thumb finally slips beneath the hem.
“Breathe,” he instructs gently, instructing you to take a deep breath which you shakily do. “If you want me to stop, you tell me, yes?”
You bite back a whine. “I don’t want you to stop. Promise.”
“But if you do,” he insists, slowing the stroking of his hand until you nearly wilt, “you tell me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you agree quickly. “Yes, I understand, I promise.”
Satisfied, he continues. Slipping his touch further up your legs while making sure the edge of your dress doesn’t move. Keeping you covered while he does this, offering you just an ounce of privacy. And you’re so grateful for him. 
He crawls higher and higher until he finds the soft lace of your underwear. Tracing the band almost lazily, running up and down the curve of your thigh without ever giving in.
“Harry,” you sigh, reaching for his wrist to compel him. “Harry, please—”
“Shh,” he hushes again, nudging his nose against your cheek. “Said I’ve got you, and I do. M’gonna make it better, baby, I promise. Just wanna play with you first. Wanna feel you.”
You’re tempted to argue that he’s nowhere close to actually feeling you yet, but you realize then that he means more than that. He wants to take in every inch of your skin at his disposal. Wants to feel the softness of your hip, the goosebumps along your thighs. Wants to learn you, study you, memorize you. Simply exist with you in his arms.
You unwind in his embrace, allowing him to indulge in you exactly the way he wants. But the coil in your stomach grows tighter at the tender implication, making your desperation for him that much stronger. 
Finally – finally – he moves closer. Brushing the tips of his fingers down the front of you, just over your covered clit and down.
He does it again. Over and over, albeit idly, while effectively worsening your need, making you whimper.
He only grins. “S’that bad, baby, huh?”
And you don’t need to answer for him to know that it is. He can feel it. Can feel exactly how anxious you are to be touched as he continues his soft strokes.
Then…he hooks his finger around the band and pulls.
The brisk morning air instantly finds the inside of your warm thighs, and you gasp. Squirming over his lap until he has to use one hand to hold you still. Shushing you once again while squeezing the top of your leg soothingly.
“I know,” he murmurs, allowing you no more than a few seconds to adjust before brushing his thumb down your pussy. “But I need you to stay quiet for me, okay? Can you do that, sweet girl?”
You nod, thankful that your outburst didn’t draw too much attention from the others in the station. But it seems that was only the start as Harry continues his playful flicks and pulls. Attempting to unravel you as quickly as possible, despite your muffled whimpers for mercy.
He starts with your clit. Circling it a few times with his large digits until he can really wind you up. Slow touches that turn fast, his lips trailing from your cheek and to your neck.
He kisses you as he does this. Nips at your skin, tugs it between his teeth, soothes it with his tongue. Marking you – claiming you. In more ways than one.
“Oh, Cherry,” he hums after a moment, and your insides wrench. “You’re all wet, baby. S’it that bad? S’it hurt that bad?”
You’d like to nod, but you don’t have the capacity. Only enough strength to squeeze his wrist and whisper, “Harry—”
“Mm. I know. Gonna let me have some?” 
You finally convince your head to move up and down while he chuckles and brings his other hand into play. One, large digit slipping between your folds and down to where your arousal has collected while the others continue stroking your clit.
And it’s almost too much. This screaming in your head for more. To be filled and fixed by the only man who can help you. 
And it’s not his cock, but his finger does feel beautiful. Pushing in to your tightness while your walls are quick to draw him in.
It’s ecstasy. Pure, unadulterated bliss. Happening right in the middle of this dimly lit subway station and the people who might see.
And yet…you’ve never felt safer. Never felt more alive and in control of your own experience. Even if it’s slightly dangerous and perhaps not something you previously would have considered. With Harry it feels…different. Destined. Because you know he means it when he says he’ll take care of you. After all, he always does.
When he reaches his knuckle, you keen, releasing a strangled groan that’s much too loud.
He takes the hand on your clit away in order to smack it against your mouth. Keeping you quiet until you finish.
“Baby,” he warns, but it’s sympathetic, “gotta try for me, okay? Gotta try to stay quiet.”
You nod again as you swallow the rest of your noises. But he keeps his palm against your lips, wet fingertips stroking your cheek. Painting you with your own arousal.
He begins to pump you slowly. Retracting almost all the way only to ease back in. It’s a steady pace he sets, but it’s addictive. Keeping you on the brink without ever actually offering you what you really need. Never scratching that itch.
“Harry,” you try, the sound of his name muffled by his hand. 
But he understands, nevertheless, kissing just below your ear before finally lowering his arm. “What? What do you need?”
More, more, more. One, singular word that’s ringing between your ears, loud and insistent. “Please…”
He hums. “Please,” he repeats. “Please…what?”
“Need…need—”
“Need? What do you need? Need me?”
“Yes,” you nearly gasp. “Yes, Harry, please. Hurts…”
And it does hurt. You’ve never felt an emptiness like this. Never felt so hollow and depraved. But he’s the only one who can fix it, and your eyelids grow heavy as you push yourself further back into his chest.
The tip of a second finger begins to tease your opening before he’s pushing both in. And it’s almost too easy, the sound of your arousal being pulled in and out rather loud. And so very lewd. Too much eroticism for you to handle, and it feels as though your limbs have turned to jelly as you slump in his hold.
“Okay, baby,” he whispers, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Gonna come for me, yeah? Just give me one. Just need to feel you around my fingers one time.”
And it’s an easy instruction. You can already feel the seams of your sanity coming loose as he returns to your clit and pinches it between his fingers.
The combination of pleasure from both of his hands is almost cruel, and it makes your heart wrench. Because it’s so close, you can taste it. Can swallow it whole, and you’ve never felt so insatiable. The urge to just have him rather prevalent and undeniable. You imagine if you could, you’d wrap yourself around him and never let go.
And you don’t think he’d really mind.
Your hips buck up the moment he curls his touch, a soft sigh fighting its way between your parted lips. 
And you’re so enamored by him. So endlessly addicted to the man doing this to you, and you can feel the way your orgasm barrels closer. The way he teases you with the thought of release, dangling it directly in front of you.
“There you go,” he breathes, and you can feel him against your back. The groan that sits in his chest as he works you closer. “So good, yeah? Love the way you squeeze me.”
As if at the mention, you feel yourself clench around his large digits. Pussy fluttering until he’s dropping his mouth to your shoulder in order to stifle his own sounds.
“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles before repeating the action again. “God, you’re so tight, sweet girl. I’d fucking ruin you, wouldn’t I?”
You nod fervently, the image of his cock painting itself behind your eyelids. The length, the girth, the way it looks between his thighs. He would, he’d ruin you. In the best possible way. And you’d thank him for it. 
You can feel him beneath you, just below your ass. And he’s glorious. Cursing to himself whenever you squirm over his cock, taunting him about the same way he’s taunting you.
It’s clear he’s losing the battle for control. Whispers of, “Oh, my sweet girl. My fucking girl. Aren’t you? Never knew how good he had it, did he?”
He doesn’t need to say Jesse’s name for you to know exactly who he’s referring to, and your stomach lands in your throat. 
You don’t want to imagine him when you’re with Harry. And you don’t think Harry does, either. But he grits the insinuation out through clenched teeth before settling into a faster rhythm.
“Could fucking kill him,” Harry seethes. “Could pull his heart out of his goddamn chest just for fucking looking at you.” 
He presses hard into your clit until you’re forced to bite your tongue. Drinking down your whimpers and cries as one of the men across the station folds his paper and begins to stand.
You pray he doesn’t look over, pulse thumping wildly against your ribcage. And yet, at the same time, you want him to know. Want them all to know what your stranger is doing to you. To watch you fall apart by his hand until you’re nothing but a pile of pants and sighs.
“For touching you,” he continues in your ear, a disdained hiss that makes your eyes roll back. “For putting his fucking hands on what’s mine.”
You squeeze his wrist so hard, you’re sure you’ll leave a bruise. But it doesn’t seem to matter because he goes faster. Harder. Plunging his fingers in and out of your cunt at an unrelenting pace. Needing you to cum more than he’s ever needed anything else.
“Come on,” he urges, kissing down your neck with a faint grumble. “God, come on, Cherry. Come for me. Let me feel you, just one more time.”
You’re almost there. Can feel the beginnings of your orgasm brightening the edges of your vision. You need far more than he’s giving you and yet, at the same time, you’ve never felt so satisfied.
“Show me how good you are,” he murmurs. “Show me how good you’re gonna be for me, taking my cock. All laid out in my bed. Tears down your pretty, little face.”
And you can see it so clearly. Sweaty bodies writhing together, tangled in the sheets. The way he holds you to the mattress, using his weight to keep you good, keep you open. His hard thrusts, his strong thighs. His hands pinning yours just above your head, his hips slamming into yours.
You clamp down around his fingers once more and he’s mesmerized. Sliding all the way to the knuckle and holding them there to feel every flutter of your pussy around him.
“Shit, that’s it.” His arm flexes from beside you, and you wish he wasn’t wearing that goddamn hoodie so you could see every pull of his muscles. “Know you’re close. Gonna get you there, baby, I swear.”
And you know he will. He almost has, and maybe there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want this to end. Wants to keep feeling this indescribable rush as he sits with you until the sun comes up. 
With all the frantic fumbling, the hem of your dress has slowly begun to ride up. Revealing the disappearance of his hands and the tops of your thighs until there’s no question about what’s really happening underneath.
And maybe you should readjust yourself, but you don’t. Can’t. You’re almost there and all clarity seems to fly right out the window as you decide that you don’t care. Onlookers be damned. If they see, they see. 
This is what gets you there. This realization that people can watch him touch you. Even if nobody is looking right at this moment, they could. And it’s wrong, and it’s strange, and it’s so not like you.
Yet you’ve never felt more at ease.
The moment it takes hold of you, he zeroes in. Fucking his fingers into your cunt rather mercilessly while the other hand returns to your mouth. Already anticipating your noises.
You moan against his palm while he tugs you impossibly closer to his chest. Attempting to shield you from everybody else as you experience the come down. 
“Shh,” he repeats for a third time, the soothing tone a stark contrast to the unrelenting movement of his fingers. “Don’t want them to hear you, sweet girl. Wanna keep you to myself. Cause your noises are mine, yeah, Cherry? They belong to me?”
Posed as a question, but you both know it’s not. You’ve never belonged to anybody the way you belong to him. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
So, you allow yourself to whimper against his hand through every second of it. Riding out his thrusts until your stomach nearly caves in. Until you have no further strength to hold yourself upright or keep yourself composed. 
“There you go,” he coos. “Just like that. Want it all, baby. Every fucking drop.”
You give it to him. Give him everything you have, everything he asks for. And the soft grunts in your ear nearly bring you to the edge for a second time, but he’s pulling away just before you can find out. 
Your exhale is strained when he finally lowers his arm, but he remedies this by wrapping it around your middle and straightening the hem of your uniform. 
“How’s that, hm?” He tucks his chin just over your shoulder. “Feel better? Y’gave me a lot tonight, sweet girl. M’so proud of you. You were so good for me.”
You offer a lazy smile at his tender praise.
Soft strokes are circled around your thigh as you both sit in the new silence. Indulging in these few moments you have left.
And just the idea of having to leave him nearly crushes you.
He’s rather addicting, you realize. This man – this stranger – that comes to your diner and sits in your booth asking for pies. Even without knowing much about who he is, you’re so endlessly drawn to him. Hypnotized by his charm and his face and his past. The scars that litteried his hands and body.
And now, after everything else…he’s the only one you truly feel safe with. Comfortable. It doesn’t matter if he’s nothing but question marks, he’s…Harry. He’s your Harry. And you don’t ever want that to change.
You watch his fingers brush at your skin, and your heart feels so full. It’s never felt like this with anybody else. Not during the sex, not during the tender moments. You thought you felt that way with Jesse, but it pales in comparison to how you feel now.
However, the fleeting memory of Jesse sours your smile as you’re forced to remember the reality of this delicate moment. 
Even when Harry was touching you, he was so angry. He is so angry. You know he’ll never be able to tame that demon that lives within his heart, but you aren’t sure there’s enough room for both.
You want to believe him when he says he’ll figure it out. But it’s becoming much too clear that he believes the only way to fix it…is to hurt Jesse.
And therefore get himself hurt in the process.
There’s so much more that you don’t understand. So much more that he clearly doesn’t want you to, and you’re devastated. You feel helpless. Because you want to protect him the same way he wants to protect you. You want to keep him from making these rash decisions just because he thinks they’ll protect you.
Because you don’t want to have to lose him or let him go. You want to take him away from all of this and make him happy. Find a way to keep him safe.
You want to find another way.
“Harry?” you venture timidly.
He hums.
“Why did you tell me not to tell Owen where I was going?”
There’s a brief beat before he sighs rather heavily and tightens his hold on you. “When I drove by the diner earlier, I saw Jesse.”
Your eyes widen.
“He was talking to Owen, and my guess is that he was looking for you.” Another pause. “Does Owen know where you live?”
You glance down at his fingers before tangling them with yours. Playing with them as though to prolong your answer. “…yes.”
He sucks in a sharp inhale. “Fuck.”
The heavy sound makes your chest ache, and you quickly sit up in order to glance back and see him. “Jesse would never do that.”
“You don’t know that,” he nearly scoffs. “He’s a fucking baby when he doesn’t get his way, and if he thinks you’re still seeing me—”
“Well, he won’t,” you retort. “He won’t know. We’ll meet down here, and we’ll figure out what to do. And it’ll be okay.”
His eyes flick between yours, and even in the soft light, that gentle green is breathtaking. “I think you have more faith in him than you should.”
Your stomach sinks.
“And I think you have the wrong faith in me, too,” he whispers, reaching out to cup your chin. “M’not sure I’m who you think I am.”
The implication makes you frown. “You’re exactly who I think you are. You’re kind, and you’re smart, and you’re strong. You take care of me, you protect me. I know you, Har.”
His expression falls ever-so-slightly. “Not as much as I should—”
“Harry—”
“You want to save him, and I want to fucking kill him,” he says. “You think he’s worth saving. You think I’m worth saving, and I’m not. We’re not—”
“Stop,” you nearly gasp, surging forward to take his cheeks between your palms. “You are always worth saving. Why do you think I’m trying so hard to keep you?”
He nuzzles his face into your palm before releasing a deep breath. “Because you’re good. You’re so good, Cherry. And I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”
You tighten your hold. “Stop saying that. You deserve me and I deserve you. Okay, we’ll figure this out. We’re fine. Everything is gonna be fine.”
You know he wants to argue. Has about a hundred excuses and arguments ready for use, but he bites his tongue. Allowing you to have this victory as you dip down and kiss him.
“I just want to keep you safe,” he says, and you understand more than he’ll ever know.
“But I am safe,” you argue, reaching down to tug his hoodie pleadingly. “As long as I’m with you, I’m safe.”
His sigh is gentle as he squeezes your chin. “I know. Just wanna figure some things out first, yeah? Make sure I can take care of you.”
You say nothing as his thumb sweeps across your parted lips, but you’re gutted. Touched by the thought, yet empty without him.
This is how you leave each other. After Harry helps you to your feet and makes sure you’re steady. And it’s quiet as you say your goodbyes. As he holds you against his heart until he has to physically take himself away. Leaving you with a lingering kiss that you feel all the way down in your toes.
“Tomorrow?” he makes you promise before you can slip away.
You smile, but it doesn’t reach very far. “Tomorrow,” you agree. “Right here.”
“Right here. Find me.”
“Always.”
And with that…he drops your hand and walks away.
However, the image of him follows you all the way home. The way his features fell, the way his voice cracked. The anguish so prevalent in his insistence, and the unmistakable rage behind his eyes.
He’s unrelenting. He doesn’t see a way out that keeps him safe. He’d rather risk his life in order to protect yours. And you don’t want to understand it, but you do. Because a part of you wants to do the same for him.
Jesse made his instructions clear. And it should be easy. It should be so easy for Harry to do the one thing he knows he can. To win.
But he won’t. He won’t win as long as Jesse’s his sponsor. And if he won’t win…
You know he can. Saw it happen just the other night. The way he threw his opponent onto the mat and held him down until he could hardly breathe. He’d been losing – he’d been throwing the fight – until he saw you. And once he saw you…the fight was over.
This is what Jesse wanted, and you know it. He wants you to be the reason Harry changes his mind, but it’s clear now that you’re the reason he won’t.
He’ll never change his mind as long as he’s convinced he’s protecting you. As long as he’s sure that his pain is proper payment for your comfort. 
And it ruins you. It ruins you this idea that you can’t help him. That he’ll allow himself to be beaten to the brink of death in order to keep you safe. To keep you untouched and unscathed.
Jesse’s threat is real. Frighteningly real, and there’s this ache in your stomach that can’t be mended with kisses and kind words. You can’t convince him, you can’t change his mind, and you can’t find another way.
There’s only one.
It taunts you as you go about your night. It wakes you the next morning. Follows you all the way to work. 
Perhaps the only way to solve the problem is to take yourself out of the equation. To force Harry’s hand exactly the way Jesse wants. To show him that it’s okay to save himself. That he doesn’t have to put you first.
But in order to truly take yourself out…you have to take yourself from him. And the thought of removing yourself from his life nearly wrecks you. It’s violent and unthinkable, causing a hitch in your breath before you’ve even decided. 
You can’t imagine a world without him in it. You don’t want to. You’re so irrevocably happy with him, and you imagine he feels the same for you.
But if you ever lost him…if your selfishness took him from you, you don’t know what you’d do. And it’s exactly the way he feels for you, but you realize then that you’d rather push him away than lose him forever. 
You’d rather have his life than his love.
Your shift goes by far too fast, and when you finally clock out and head for the subway station, your insides are in knots. 
You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to have to do this, but it’s the only exit you see. Right alongside the memories of each of Harry’s bruises and cuts. Reminding you of how much worse it could really get.
And when you step up to the subway and see his shadow just across the way…the decision finds you.
A grin splits his face as he strides toward you, instantly wrapping you in his arms and pulling you back into his chest. Exactly the way he left you the night before.
“Hi,” he murmurs, lips burying into your hair as though he hasn’t been able to breathe without you.
“Hi,” you whisper back, throat already growing dry. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Don’t be, sweet girl.” He leans back in order to study you, fingers stroking across your cheek rather affectionately. “Owen didn’t give you trouble, did he?”
“No. No, it wasn’t him—”
“Jesse?” The sound of his name is sharp, and it makes your eyelashes flutter.
“No.” Your voice has gone quiet. Far too quiet, and his brows pinch together. “No, I just…I have something I have to do. And I’m not sure that I can.”
He steps closer. “Then let me help, yeah? We can do it together.”
You want to cry.
Your shift in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed, and he quickly reaches for your hand in order to drag you toward the bench just behind him. 
“Okay, all right,” he murmurs as he brings you to sit. “Talk to me, sweet girl. Let me help, what can I do?”
You stumble over a breath and glance down at your lap. If you look at him, you’ll never do it. “I…I…”
You can’t force the words out. Can’t find what you really want to say – can’t even believe you’re saying it at all.
But you have to. You have to protect him; you have to do what he won’t.
He dips down in order to recapture your attention. “Deep breath, baby, okay? Just talk to me. I just wanna help.”
It hurts the way he speaks to you. Hurts the way he’s still trying to help. The way he cradles your face in his hand in order to comfort you.
“I…” You swallow thickly and revel in the feel of his touch for the last time. “I think…I think we should take a break.”
His head tilts, but he appears unfazed. Perhaps he doesn’t understand or perhaps he didn’t really hear you. “What?”
And you almost hate him for making you repeat it. “I want to take a break. I don’t…I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Now he hears you, but he it’s obvious that he doesn’t understand. Leaning back as his features twist together. “Cherry…”
And suddenly, you feel unsure. Consumed by the idea that you're making a huge mistake. Maybe there's another way, maybe...maybe you just didn't look hard enough.
Because what if letting him go does more harm than good? What if he can't find another way without you? What if you can't live without him?
But then Jesse's threat rings in your ear. The taunt that he'd kill him himself if he didn't do things differently. If he didn't listen.
If you couldn't convince him
And the moment you imagine Harry lying on the ground– dead – you realize that this is truly the only way.
You raise your eyes to his, and it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. “I’m sorry.”
But it appears your apology falls on deaf ears. He merely frowns, regarding you almost suspiciously. “He got to you, didn’t he? He’s making you say this.”
“No…no, he just—”
“He what? S’this about what he said? S’this about what I said? Because I meant it. I’ll fucking kill him—”
“No, Harry, I just…I think you were right. I think we’re never gonna agree on how to handle this and…and maybe there’s a reason.”
He considers this before rejecting it with a soft scoff. “We don’t have to agree. I told you, I can handle him—”
“I don’t think you can,” you argue. “And I think it’s better if we just quit while we’re ahead.”
It’s bullshit. All of it. A bunch of empty lies that chip away at your happiness.
The frown deepens. “Cherry…I don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t. You don’t understand, and…and I don’t think you ever will.” You force the tears back. “We’re not the same people, Harry. It was never going to work.”
This is what crushes him. This confirmation of your differences and of the very thing he feared. That you’d reject him for being who he is.
You nearly take it all back when you see his expression soften. 
“Cherry,” he tries again, “if…if I did something, I—”
“You did a lot of things,” you tell him. Deciding that the only way you’ll get through this is if you fight him at every turn. “But I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.”
His shoulders visibly droop. “I know, I…I’m just trying to make it better.”
You didn’t think it could get worse. And you want to comfort him. Want to help him understand, make him see. Have this unshakable need fix the desolate expression on his face. Kiss it away, make it better.
But you don't.
“I know,” you echo instead, offering a just hint of kindness as you place your hand on his knee. “But this is how we make it better. By letting go. And saying goodbye.”
He glances down at his leg as though your touch stings, and you retract your arm almost instantly. “You want me to say goodbye?”
No. Never. “Yes. I think it’s for the best.”
He nods once and his eyes become unfocused. As though he’s lost. Completely checked out of his own body, and it sends the knife directly into your heart.
Then, he lifts his head, and regains a moment of clarity. “I love you.”
The knife twists and the first sob breaks free. “Harry—”
“I love you, Cherry. I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want to take a fucking break, I…” He stops, and you can see the torment painted so perfectly across his face. “I love you. I can’t do this without you.”
And you know he won’t. You know he’ll do everything he can to bring you back. To change your mind, remind you where you belong. He’ll never let you go.
So, you do the one thing you don’t want to.
“I don’t love you,” you whisper. “I love…him.”
You’ve never seen him look so miserable.
It’s like you’ve slapped him. He leans back so fast, you’re dizzy. Putting a violent distance between your bodies until you nearly lose your breath.
He takes in a quiet inhale that’s more like a gasp, and you want to change your mind. You want to throw yourself into his arms and apologize and tell him you love him and go back to how things were only 24-hours ago. You want to pretend you never saw that look on his face.
But you can’t. You have. You said it and for all he knows, you mean it.
“You love him,” he repeats, and it’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever heard. “You…no. No, you don’t love him, you…how can you love him? How…how?”
“I…I talked to him,” you lie, reaching up to swipe your knuckles across your cheek. “He’s…he’s my Jesse. He’s…I’ve always loved him. I just…I didn’t realize.”
He scoffs again, but it’s riddled with disdain and desperation. “Your Jesse.”
“Yes, my Jesse.” You don’t think your heart has ever broken this bad. “I’ve always loved him. I always will. And he…he explained, and I believe him. I’m choosing to believe him—”
“Oh, fuck that,” he nearly growls, springing onto his feet until he’s towering over you. “No, he…him? After everything he did to you, you fucking…you love him? You want to be with him?”
“Harry—”
“No. How can you…” He steels himself, and another tear falls from your eye. “You can’t love him. You can’t, I know you. Okay, I saw how you looked at him and I saw how you looked at me, and it’s not the same. You don’t love him, you’re just…you’re scared.”
He’s right, you are.
“I’m not scared, Harry, I just…I know what’s best for me,” you murmur. “And he’s what’s best.”
It tastes vile in your mouth. All of it, every lie, every false feeling, and you feel sick.
He steps back, and a part of you almost hopes he simply walks away so you won’t have to keep doing this to him. To yourself.
But maybe this is your punishment. To watch the way you ruin him as you do it. 
“You can do better than him and you know it,” he nearly sneers, but it’s sad the way he speaks. “And it doesn’t have to be me, but…fuck, you have to do better than him. You deserve so much better than him, Cherry, and I don’t…I can’t believe you don’t see that.”
Your fingers twitch on your lap, anxious to reach for him. “I’m sorry.”
He only shakes his head and looks away. “Don’t be. S’my fucking fault for thinking I could do better."
“Harry—”
“No, it’s fine,” he says, but you know, undoubtedly, that he doesn’t mean it. “If you love him, then you fucking love him. I’m never gonna be able to change that.”
You feel as though you’re being ripped apart from the inside out. You’ve never experienced a pain like this before, and you imagine it’s still only a fraction of the pain he puts himself through in that ring. 
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, and it’s enough to draw his attention back. “I never want to hurt you, Harry. I really do care about you, I just…”
He looks gutted. “You just care about him more.”
You wonder if he really believes you. You wonder if that small pull of his brows is because he’s hurt or because he knows what you’re really doing.
Either way, he steps back, and takes himself from you. Putting the first few feet of the eventual thousand between you. “It’s fine,” he murmurs once more. “I just want you to be happy, Cher. And if you’re happy with him, then…”
He can’t finish the thought. Can’t force the words between his gritted teeth, and you understand.
“Thank you,” you exhale, and your pulse begins to race. Because you know what comes next, and you aren’t quite sure you’re prepared. “And…I hope you figure everything out.”
“Yeah,” he snorts, but there’s something dark in the way he speaks. Something you’re almost afraid to recognize. “I will.”
It’s ominous, but you suppose that’s all you deserve. “Right.”
He moves back even further, and you nearly collapse. 
“Harry?”
He pauses, hands disappearing into his pockets as though to shield himself from you.
“Thank you,” you call quietly. “For…for everything.”
His lashes flutter, and even despite the affliction written between the lines of his face, you realize he’s never looked so beautiful. “Don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I’ve only ever wanted to make you happy.”
And all you can do is look down at your lap in order to shield him from the influx of tears that break free.
A moment passes of your soft hiccups and trembling hands before you hear his shoes shuffle across the concrete. He’s walking away. He’s leaving you behind. He’s saying goodbye. For good. You’ll never see him again, and he’ll never sit in that booth again, and he’ll never be your stranger ever again—
Two hands find your face. Lifting your head until you’re forced to look up and see him.
He’s here.
And he’s tugging you up onto your feet until he can hold you against his chest and really look at you. Thumbs sweeping just beneath your eyes to catch each falling tear.
Then…he kisses you.
You’ve kissed him before. Many times, in fact, but it’s never been like this. It’s never been this…heavy. Never carried the kind of meaning it does right now as he keeps you against his lips for as long as you’ll allow. 
Because this is the last kiss.
You don’t want to let go. Don’t want to let him let you go. But he does all too soon and you’ve never felt so alone.
“I love you,” he whispers. “And I’m so sorry I couldn’t be who you need.”
And you want to scream. Want to tell him that he is. That he’s all you’ve ever wanted.
But he’s already removing his hands from your face before you can.
And you’re forced to watch as the man that you love turns around…and walks away.
For the last time.
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Next Part:
~ Outlawed*
Previous Part:
~ Reckless*
~ Full Knockout Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
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cocteaucherry · 2 months
Text
nanami x f!reader
(little thing I wrote about Nanami’s wife being insecure after the birth of their daughter)
cws- f!reader, self doubt, body insecurity, bodily fluids, p in v (unprotected), oral f!receiving, lacatation kink, nipple play, 18+, light postpartum depression, body worship, creampie
You hated the way you looked.
You stared in the mirror analyzing and observing your post birth body, the way your stomach pudge began to droop, the abundance of stretch marks coating your sides, your breasts full and aching adding to your sheer discomfort.
You adored your daughter, loved her with every fiber of your being but when the lights turned off you were left alone with your thoughts and the body you were convinced was destroyed.
This didn’t go unnoticed by your darling husband of course, he’d watch you heavily over analyze yourself as you pulled on your pajamas for the night. The way you’d wince when your rough feeling shirt clipped the underside of your sensitive breasts.
Nanami wasn't dumb, the way your face filled with worry when he proposed you have a date night just the two of you but quickly made the excuse of not going through the trouble.
“Hey sweetheart, just put her down for the night.. well for a few hours.” He smirked, rubbing his tired eyes.
You were laid on the bed in an oversized purple nightgown, you could wear a trash bag and he’d still find you to be the most ravishing woman he’s ever seen.
“That’s great, let’s get some sleep while we still can.” You said with a small yawn as Nanami crawled on the bed next to you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist causing you to wince quietly.
“Did I do something?” Nanami asked gazing up at you through his eyelashes as he took your hand in his.
“Do..” you sighed, beginning to feel the onslaught of tears form, “D-Do you still find me attractive..?” The words came out as more of a quiet plea than a question.
Nanami stared at you with an astonished look, eyes blown wide as he gripped your hand a little tighter, “Sweetheart..”
Hearing him say your name softly made you begin to sob, “Y/N, why do you not know how beautiful you are?” He pressed kisses to your knuckles keeping eye contact with you.
“I-I don’t feel it anymore..” sniffles came from you as you tried to wipe your tears, “I’m bigger now.. I have more stretch marks, I feel and look tired all the time.. and my stupid boobs hurt,” a hurt chuckle came from you as you tilted your head back.
“Sweetie.. are you aware you just birthed our beautiful daughter a month ago?” Nanami smiled softly, sitting up to caress the side of your face, “Your body is still as beautiful and amazing as it was before.” His calloused thumb wiping the stray tears away.
“K-Kento-“
He shushed you quickly before placing a soft kiss on your chapped lips, “Let me show you how beautiful you are..”
All of a sudden Nanami’s hands lifted your soft nightgown above your aching tits, his mouth then began to leave messy wet kisses on your neck.
You let out soft mewls as his rough hands palmed and squeezed at your tender breasts, beads of soft white milk dribbling out.
Nanami smirked against your neck as he dragged his lips to your cleavage, “I never want you to forget why I fell in love with you,” he hummed wrapping his lips around one of the hardened buds, his tongue graced over the bud as the smooth milk dribbled out.
“K-Ken, fuckkk,” you moaned as your hands found home in his blonde hair, gripping at the roots. His hands worked at your breasts as his lips moved on to the other bud.
He pulled off your breasts with an audible pop! As his head moved to your inner thighs, “I’ll never stop loving you, and if I do shoot me dead angel.” Nanami grinned as he saw you smile lightly, he nipped at the inner corners of your thighs slowly moving towards your panty clad cunt.
Soft kisses were placed where your clit was covered, “Think I can make you squirt through your panties?” Nanami groaned as he inhaled your scent leaving kitten licks on the damp fabric.
“Ken, please don’t tease!” You squeaked as his fingers worked on your clothed clit, Nanami’s teeth nipped at your thighs as his hips grinded into the mattress below.
“Wan’ kiss you to know kiss how beautiful kiss you are,” Nanami looked gorgeous between your legs, hair tousled, pupils blown as his fingers worked delicately.
Your back arched as you felt his tongue ghost over your clit, a whine fell from your lips as Nanami wrapped his lips over your clit. “Let go for me angel..” he hummed as the coil snapped in your belly and your panties soaked. “Fuckk, such a good girl f’ me.”
He placed one last kiss on your thigh before he sat up and began to gently palm himself through his boxers, the whole image was erotic as precum stained his boxers.
“See what you do to me angel?” He gripped his hardened cock through the fabric, “Please give me me a chance to fuck you dumb tonight.”
“K-Ken fuck!” Moans fell from your mouth as your husband continued to pound into your weeping pussy,
“Sucking me in so good, shit,” Nanami grunted out as he lifted your leg onto his shoulder planting a small kiss on your ankle, “Never thrust forget how fucking beautiful thrust you are.” He groaned out feeling your gummy walls begin to contract around him.
“‘M gonna cum Ken!” Your toes curled as you felt him speed up his thrusts, “D-do it you got it baby,” his hand came to rub quick tight circles on your clit as your walls clamped around his cock causing him to still.
“Ohhh fuck! That’s my good girl,” his voice sounded raspy as he buried himself deeper into you spilling his seed.
Pants came from both of you as he leaned over to place multiple kisses on your forehead, there was a calm silence that followed after before it was broken by Nanami.
“I never want you to forget how much of a goddamn goddess you are,”
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pucked-bunnie · 13 days
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and, what about you? ⎜q.hughes
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pairings: quinn hughes x reader genre: angst warnings: stressed quinn ⎜over-thinker quinn ⎜ synopsis: everyone knows the captain takes care of everyone, of everything - but who takes care of them? word count: 2.1 k authors note: Quinn was the clear winner of the poll, and this is essentially just filling my need for words of affirmation and how I hope someone takes care of our dear captain, it's a little shorter than normal but i hope you all still enjoy. (UNEDITED)
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The crowd roars as the Canucks win the game - the group of boys flooding the ice to congratulate each other, tapping on helmets as they make their way to the locker room. 
“I’m gonna head down to the locker room, meet you there?” Natalie shouts over the sounds of the blaring alarms and music - you nod quickly, your eyes locked on the captain skating over to his goalie, patting him firmly on the helmet hovering for a few seconds clearly praising Thatcher's game. The two teammates make their way over to the bench, the coach pulling Quinn to the side.
You watch Quinn’s shoulders slump a little and he nods his head, his coach patting him on the shoulder as he lets him walk down the tunnel into the locker room. You say quick goodbyes to the other partners in the area, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
Your phone dings in your hand, the screen lighting up with a text message. 
quintin 😍: I’m gonna be a little longer than expected, I have to cover Brock's interview. 
pookie ♥️ ️ : Okay, take your time. 
You find a spot beside the entrance to the locker room, pulling out the AirPods tucked into your bag. Knowing Quinn him saying he was going to take longer then expected meant it was going to be over an hour before you would be seeing him. You scroll through your tiktok, making small conversation with the passing players as they join with their families making their own way home. 
Eventually you spot the reporters leaving, a few more team members filing out behind them, the crowds slowly dwindling in the main lobby, though Quinn was nowhere in sight. 
pookie ♥ ️ : everything alright? reporters left twenty minutes ago. 
Your message is seen quickly, the ellipsis popping up into your text thread before disappearing, the cycle repeating a few times before the bubble disappears, no response from Quinn. 
“Hey what are you still doing out here?” A familiar voice says as a body stops in front of you, you glance up at Brock giving him a soft smile as you take out an AirPod. 
“Oh, just waiting for Quinn.” You respond quickly, “He said he was covering interviews, but they left a while ago.” You note softly, Brock tilting his head in confusion. 
“Quinn wasn’t doing interviews tonight.” Brock eyebrows drop in a frown, his eyes darting back to the locker room before back down to you. “No one else is in there, if you wanna head in?” He suggests quietly, patting your shoulder before jogging over to his waiting girlfriend, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she greets him excitedly. 
You watch them for a few more moments, the happy couple leaving hand in hand before you turn towards the entrance, glancing around as you walk into the large room, it’s easy to spot the captain, his arms resting on his knees, his hockey jersey in the basket in the middle of the room, the rest of his gear still strapped to his body. 
“Babe?” You call softly, taking slow steps towards the deep in thought man, his hand raking through his hair a few more times before you call out for him again, “Quinn?” 
His head snaps up at your voice, his eyes darting around the empty room before focusing on you. “Oh shit.” He curses under his breath, his hand moving to undo the velcro straps of his chest pads. 
“Quinn, are you okay?” You question as you drop on the bench next to him, watching as he rushes to take off his remaining gear. 
“Yeah, of course.” He says quickly, shooting you an apologetic grin as he pulls the pads over his head. “Just got lost in thought.” 
You glance over to Quinn every now and then as he makes quick work of his uniform, pulling on a large hoodie and sweatpants, grabbing his phone and wallet from the shelf of his locker before turning towards you. 
“I’ll shower when I get home.” He promises as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, his fingers twining with yours as he grips your hand tightly. You wrap your other hand tightly around your joined hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the back of his hand. 
“You played amazing today, Quinn.” You praise, letting your hands drop to swing between the two of you as Quinn leads you both to the garage, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so much for this team.” You continue, Quinn shaking his head, his hand releasing yours as you both climb into the car. 
“We still have play offs to get through.” Quinn says with a long sigh, his eyes focusing in front of him as he pulls out the parking space, making his way out of the garage. Quinn’s body stays tense as his eyes remain forwards, his focus anywhere but on the way you watch him, your eyes looking over all his signs of discomfort. 
Quinn stays silent for the fifteen minute drive back to your apartment - game nights usually meant your boyfriend stayed at your place, Elias and Quinn enjoying the time apart to wind down. 
You follow behind Quinn as he makes his way to the elevator, his hand not reaching for yours like he normally would, his body pushing him to make it into your cozy apartment. He unlocks your front door with his spare key, dropping the bag from his trunk besides the front door, kicking off his sneakers. 
You sneak in behind him, softly closing the door as he runs his fingers through his hair, his hands rubbing at his face. “Quinn, I want you to answer me honestly.” You begin softly, leaning against the back of your couch, your hand clasped in front of you. “Are you okay?” 
“Huh?” He asks, his hands dropping from his face, “of course I am.” He answers quickly, he tries to smile, to erase your concern, but his smile falters as you remain silent, your brows furrowed in concern. 
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He says, “I mean I’m living the dream right, playing my favourite sport for a living, captain of the team I’ve played on for six years, we’re going to the playoffs and I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend to top it all off.” He continues his voice carrying a sharp edge to it. 
You continue the silence, hoping that maybe making him face the discomfort will give you a look into his mind. 
“What do you want me to say?” He finally asks, throwing his hands in a shrug. 
“I don’t know… I just want to know what’s going on inside your head.” You respond, “I want to be able to help relieve some of your stress. I wanna be able to take care of you if you’re not feeling great.” You add, watching as Quinn’s mouth drops in a frown. 
“I don’t need you to take care of me.” He snaps, his tone more hostile than expected, your body pushing off the couch as you move to step forwards, your boyfriend taking a step away from you. “I’m supposed to take care of you” He says, pointing towards you for emphasis, “That’s my job. I’m supposed to take care of things at home and at work, that’s what a good leader does.” 
“And, what about you?” You question softly, your arms crossing over your chest, a feeble attempt at trying to keep yourself together. “What about you, Quinn… Who takes care of you?” 
You watch the emotions flash over Quinn’s face whatever facade he had kept going for the past twenty four hours faltering. 
“Babe, you have so much on your plate right now, so much responsibility… let me take some of it, even just for a little while.” 
“Why?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper. 
“Because that’s my job.” You answer, “Because if you’re not going to take care of you, then I will. Because relationships are about lifting each other up but sometimes we just have to catch each other when we fall.” Your words are gentle as you step towards him. 
“Quinn, it’s okay to fall sometimes.” Your heart sinks as you watch his face crumble, a heavy sob escaping his chest as you close the distance, pulling his body to yours. Quinn remains stiff as you wrap your arms around his neck, his face dropping against your shoulder as his body shakes. 
“I’m just so tired.” His voice cracks as he speaks, finally his arms moving to constrict around your waist, your body the only thing grounding him. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Another round of choked sobs rip from him, one of your hands gently soothing over his back, the other smoothing the back of his head. 
“You’re going to be okay.” You coo, your throat constricting as you swallow down your own tears, your heart cracking in two at the state of your boyfriend, the hurt in his voice. 
The two of you remain in the lounge room, your arms wrapped around each other, stuck in a standstill as Quinn lets out everything that had been weighing him down, his sobs slowly turning into sniffles, his arms squeezing around you when you move to step back. 
“No.” He grumbles. 
“Come with me.” You whisper, finally detaching him from you, your hands grabbing his as you pull him towards the couch, you take your spot lying down on the cushions before motioning for him to follow. Quinn seems hesitant at first, his breathing shallow before he nods joining you on the couch, his body thrown over yours, his head pressed against your chest as you resume your ministrations on his back, drawing soft shapes against his jumper. 
“Share something with me.” You say, “Give me something to hold onto for you for a little while.” 
“Like what?” He speaks against your shirt, the words muffled slightly by the fabric. 
“Anything.” He takes a deep breath at your words. 
“Rick said something to me today.” He starts, you nod slowly recounting the coach pulling the young captain aside, your hand raises to the collar of Quinn’s hoodie softly slipping under the fabric to continue your soothing on his skin. “He said he was proud of me.” 
Your movements pause, waiting for Quinn to elaborate. 
“He said that he couldn’t think of a better leader for the team, and that he knew that I was going to take us further than anyone imagined.” Quinn lets out a long sigh, “I just can’t find it in me to believe him.” Your eyebrows raise at his comment, your head tilting as you consider what to say. 
“You’re not proud of yourself?” 
“I don’t know.” He mumbles back. “I know I should be, but a part of me just feels like I haven’t done enough, like I haven’t achieved enough to feel pride.” 
“Well, that’s okay.” You start, “I can be proud of you for both of us.” Quinn raises his head, resting his chin against your sternum as he glances up at you. 
“Really?” 
“I’ll just hold onto it until you're ready, no matter how long it takes.” You smile as you watch Quinn’s face relax a little, his own smile light on his face, as he leans forwards pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 
“You have no idea how special you are, Quinn.” You remind him as you raise your hand to push his floppy brown locks out of his face. “But I hope one day you let yourself feel it.” 
“And, what about you?” Quinn asks, throwing your own question back in your face. “Do you know how special you are?” 
“Probably not, but I’m trying my best to figure it out.” You smile once more, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before reaching to the coffee table for the remote. 
“I should go shower.” Quinn says as he drops his head back to your chest, his body making no moves to walk down your hallway to the bathroom. 
“You probably should.” You agree with a laugh as Quinn grabs one of your hands placing it back in his hair, a soft sigh of content escaping him as you scrape your nails against his scalp.  
“Thank you.” He whispers, his eyes squeezed shut as you press one more kiss to his head. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it's my job.” He lets out a soft chuckle, his body relaxing further as he falls asleep to the sound of mindless reality TV, your chest swelling with the pride of two people as you glance down at your boyfriend finally resting. 
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pwinkprincess · 14 days
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fratboy/playboy!gojo takin readers virginity :3
hes manipulative :(( all is consensual tho
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it’s truly a mystery as to how satoru got his hands on you. even suguru doesn’t understand how such a flamboyant person managed to get someone like you, someone so sweet and pure. satoru is aware of the curious eyes that stick to the two of you like glue, he knows what people think and he loves it. he enjoys knowing he has the last piece to the puzzle. when people try to map out how a fuckboy got his grimy fingers onto you, he becomes tight lipped, only offering a sly smirk.
it’s no one’s business to know that he was persistent in getting you一sometimes too persistent. he’d linger around your dorm room, he sat directly beside you in the one class the two of you had together, it was minor things that blossomed into you catching feelings for him. when you had briefly mentioned to satoru that you were new to the city and didn’t exactly have many friends, god一you’ve never seen him smile so wide. you were oblivious to inner musings; lewd, disgusting thoughts of innocent you.
of course he had ulterior motives. as beautiful as you are, satoru finds girls with a bit of fight in them more attractive than submissive girls. you weren’t exactly his type but your naivety strung him along. and boy, was all the waiting worth it.
“t-toru.” you gasp his name dumbly. your pretty eyes glance down to where his thick cock was stretching your pussy. your long square shaped nails dig into his shoulder blade. “t-thought you said it wouldn’t h-hurt..” you sniffle.
“‘m a guy, baby. i’ve never had m’cherry popped.” he huffs out a chuckle. his chuckle is quieted once he bites down on his lip and concentrates on pushing his cock deep inside of you. once his hips are smacked against the fat of your ass, he takes a moment to look at you.
you feel so full of him. you could feel every vein, every ridge, the feeling of his cock pulsating inside you. it was almost too much of a feeling. “can we take a break, toru?” you remove your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. 
luckily, you weren’t able to see satoru roll his eyes at your question. “princess, really? we’ve gotten so far. i一jus’ look at how your pussy’s squeezing me.” 
“it’s.. w-we don’t have to stop jus’ a little break, toru.” you try to reason. satoru sucks his teeth in response. his cock is throbbing and he just wants to start pounding his way through your walls, giving your pussy the treatment it deserves. 
“fine. i guess i’ll have t’call another girl to一” he’s cut off by you gasping.
you quickly uncover your face and grab at his forearms. your eyes dart to the silver infinity chain that hangs from his neck and threatens to rub against your forehead. “no! please, no. we can do it! no breaks, k? you hear me, toru?” you wrap your legs around his waist as if you’re showing him that you mean every word you say. 
“nah, it’s good. unwrap your legs.” satoru has to fight himself, repeating in his head 'don't smile'. he’s got you where he wants you.
tears adorn your eyes as you look at him with apprehension. “p-please, d-daddy. i don’t wanna take a break. don’t go, please.” 
“well.. i guess we can finish.” he places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling his hips back and thrusting into you.
you’re satoru’s little delicate thing, he’ll make sure he has his fun with you.
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miupow · 2 months
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★ 彡 [dimple.] - k. taehyun
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── ★ [ ☁️ ] kang taehyun x gn!reader ⸝⸝ tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, kissing ⸝⸝ 400 words
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“i like your dimple,” you giggle into taehyun’s shoulder, love drunk in his arms as he tightens his arms around your waist. You rarely got days like these anymore, with how busy the both of you were— cuddled up together on the couch, listening to the rain pelt the windows and the rooftops as you sink further and further into each others warm embrace. Taehyun snickers above you, soft lips ghosting over the crown of your head.
“my dimple? i don’t have dimples.” taehyun murmurs into your hair.
“yes you do, silly!” you hum in response, leaning your head back to meet his warm brown eyes. Taehyun smiles down at you softly, that endearing crease cutting into the plush of his cheek. You reach your hand up to cup it gently; Taehyun leans into your touch like a touch starved kitten, his eyes fluttering closed and his gentle smile widening. “not like soobin, obviously, but you do have a dimple. just one though.”
“just one?” taehyun echoes. “i thought you’re supposed to have two of those things.”
“nope,” you giggle, popping the ‘p’. “just one, right...” you moved your hand back to poke his cheek, right on his dimple. “here. i love it. ‘s cute.”
“‘m not cute,” taehyun grumbles, hiding his face in your hair. “‘m a man.”
“sure, honey, i’m sorry. it’s very manly, your dimple.” you twist around in taehyun’s arms, ignoring his whine when you break out of his embrace, and give him a sweet kiss on his cheek. “i love your manly dimple.”
“now you’re just making fun of me,” taehyun scowls playfully, attempting to pull away from your kisses— you pull him back with your hands cupping his neck, smattering pecks all over his dimpled cheek, his nose, his forehead. taehyun’s big calloused hands come to rest back on your waist.
“mm, maybe i am.” you use your gentle hold on his neck to tip his head up, mirroring the goofy smile on his face. the love in taehyun’s pretty boba eyes makes your tummy turn. “you know i love you, baby.”
“me and my manly dimple?” taehyun laughs, thumbs rubbing your hips, eyes wandering to your lips.
“yes, yes, whatever. just shut up and kiss me.”
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ʀɪʙʙᴏɴ | ᴊ.ᴡʏ
🎀 PAIRING: Dilf!daddy! Wooyoung x F! Reader
🎀 SYNOPSIS: You just love Wooyoung's dick, and maybe you wanted to make it look pretty like it truly is.
🎀 WORD COUNT: 2k
🎀 CONTENT/WARNINGS: daddy kink, heavy subspace, dumbification, heavy degradation, slight spanking, finger sucking, blowjob.
🎀 PROMPT: "can I tie a ribbon around your dick, daddy?"
🎀 A/N: this was a big brain rot, tell me if it sucks y'all 😭
🎀 TAGLIST: HERE
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“Woo!” You call out for your boyfriend for the third time, your tone now being more exclamative. Wooyoung finally looks up from his phone, his lazy eyes staring down at you, now. “What's it baby?” Instead of giving him an answer, you crawl towards him where he's sitting on your shared bed. You instantly make yourself comfortable on his lap, throwing his phone out of his hand. Wooyoung cocks his eyebrows at your actions, but he lets you do whatever you want – highkey curious about what you were going to do. 
Your fingers interlace with his, pushing his hands further behind your back before letting them rest on the pulp of your ass. “Can I tie a ribbon around it?” 
You had to admit – you were surprised with yourself for being so bold with him about your dirty request. For a fact, you had found yourself stuttering when asking him to fuck your throat or fiddling with your fingers when you wanted him to choke you while he pounded you into the sheets, during the early stages of your relationship. 
Wooyoung raises his eyebrows yet again from your question, “You mean my dick, pretty girl?” His lips threatened to stretch in a smirk when he saw the way your cheeks heated up, and his hands squeezed your ass, hard. You whimper loudly, unintentionally letting your hips grind on his growing bulge. 
But – surprisingly for wooyoung – you managed to compose yourself, and lift yourself off of him. “I'll let you think about it, daddy.” You whisper the words next to his ear, placing a chaste kiss on his neck before walking away. All while Wooyoung sat there, an unbelievable grin on his face with a raging boner confined in his pants. 
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Days later when you were lying stomach down on your bed, your chin placed on the soft pillow as you watched the k-drama on your phone, you felt familiar hands caressing your ass. You feel the bed dip beside you, and before you could think of anything, your figure was being pulled up by your arms. You were pushed onto your knees while Wooyoung's figure towered over you. 
“Hm I thought about what you said princess,” His words make you cock your head in confusion, but it all morphs into flusteredness when his hands wave a wide peach coloured ribbon in front of your eyes. 
His smirk seemed to grow wider at your reaction – all while your body heated against your own wish, suddenly feeling all too small under him. “Can I, daddy?” The name slipped off your tongue ever so naturally, for you had found yourself calling him by the nickname outside the bedroom too – but god was that a thing that always managed to make Wooyoung's dick pop up whenever you used it with a pleading tone. 
“On your knees, baby.” His tone was filled with firmness and sounded so commanding, your knees felt too weak to lift off the mattress. But nonetheless, you were on the wooden floor, your hands placed on your thighs, obediently waiting for his next order – just like how he had taught you. 
Wooyoung spread his thick thighs ever so slowly, leaning back as he rested his hands on the mattress. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight of his – not-so-subtle – standing bulge. “Look at you drooling over my bulge, baby, you want to wrap this pretty little ribbon around my fat cock so badly don't you, pretty?”  
You nodded instantly, before adding an obedient “Yes, daddy!” You knew well to not be non-verbal with Wooyoung right now, knowing well he would stop everything when you did so. “Beg” 
A whine slips out of you before you had the thought of holding the said noise back. Your hands immediately find their place onto his thighs in impatience, “Please daddy, been dying to do this, please-” You knew you sounded pathetic as hell, but you could care less when getting his cock for yourself was on line. 
Wooyoung lets out a low chuckle from your grabby hands, “Get to work princess.” As soon his words went inside your head, your fingers tugged on the zipper. Your hands sloppily pulled his jeans down, his dick almost slapping against your cheek as it sprung out. Your hands grasped the ribbon from his hand, fixing it to tie it around him. 
“Make it pretty for daddy, princess.” Your hand wraps the ribbon around his length twice before stopping above to tie an adorable ribbon over it – but god if only your actions were so adorable there. 
You smiled at how pretty you had made it, and leaned down to kiss his shaft, making him groan from the contact. His hands instantaneously find a place in between your hair strands and push you down his cock till the ribbon you just tied tickled your nose. Your gasp gets cocked up from his cock hitting the back of your throat in one go. Immediate tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you didn't even try to pull away from his cock, although his hands just stayed upon your head. 
Wooyoung bunches up your hair in a ponytail when your eyes give him a go. “Gonna fuck your face, beautiful. Would you like that? To tie a pretty ribbon around my cock and then choke on it?” 
No matter what, Wooyoung's words always had you dripping wet in minutes. He definitely had a way with his words – just like how he has a way with his cock. 
Your body turns plaint on the floor while your hands rested between your thighs, while his cock now rammed into your mouth. Your spit garnered and slipped past your lips. Your eyes rolled back from the way your brain almost shut down, and the only thought being ‘daddy's cock’ – Wooyoung surely knew how to face fuck you dumb. 
His cock twitched between your warm walls at the sight in front of him, his body still reacting the same to the way you get so fucked from the littlest of his actions. 
He tugs your mouth off of him with a ‘pop’, his hand now holding his cock in his hand, jerking sloppily. “Tongue out, pretty girl.” The command can barely be processed by your brain before your tongue juts out, ready to take all the loads of his cum. As if on cue, his cock twitches as spurts of cum land more likely on your cheeks rather than your welcoming tongue. 
The ribbon was now a bit crooked but Wooyoung didn't give it a mind. His hands come down to collect some of his sticky white cum off your cheeks, only for this index and middle finger to get shoved inside your mouth without a warning. They press down on your tongue to drown out any complaining noise that tries to escape you. “Can't fucking take my cum can you? Such fucked dumb whore.” 
You were surely far too gone in your headspace to react to his words like an adult. You sobbed around his fingers, trying to complain about how you were nothing but a good girl, but they were all meaningless attempts to just get dicked down by him soon. 
Wooyoung's soft member was soon to stand up tall from your pathetic babbling claims. And before you knew it, his hand retreated from your mouth to pull you up on his lap by your arms. 
A low sheepish smile sits on your face when you feel his girth sliding and fitting snugly between your wet folds. You feel the fabric of the ribbon near your clit but your slick soon dripped all over, soaking it wet – just as he intended to. 
“My dumb pretty baby wants something don't you? Tell me princess, what you want?” You almost feel as if the room was spinning, his words and the feeling of his length sliding against your folds – oh so fucking close to your needy hole. Your head falls onto his shoulder as you babble, “ ‘S your cock, daddy- hnngh- please?” 
How could he ever say no to his baby like that? When you were pleading so softly, so fucked out and thoughtless and your body so plaint against him? 
Wooyoung let out a curse before swiftly switching your position to slam his cock into you. Your awaiting hole was quick enough to swallow his thick cock, your walls eager to hug him. “Always so fucking wet and drenching for- fuck- for me, princess.” 
He hoists his body above you, his hands holding your legs apart to give his hips more access. “Gonna fuck you dumb like I always do”, saying that, Wooyoung’s hips snap ever so furiously. Hitting every spot inside you with his cock. Your brain basically turns mushy from feeling his dick almost stomach deep inside you, your thoughts were basically nothing short of a mess and only thing being ‘daddy's cock, gonna take it’.
You barely have to babble about how much you love the way he pounded into you (which you did) for him to fasten his pace. “Look at you baby- babbling around my cock so pathetically- fuck-” 
His loud curse is followed by your whine when he pulls his twitching dick out of your throbbing cunt. You can merely recognize the fact that you were now in your stomach, when his dick back inside you. Your lips feel the harsh taps of his finger and he lets you take a few seconds before you are parting your lips, welcoming the entry of his fingers into your mouth. 
You had never known how loud Wooyoung got you to be whenever you were wrapped around his dick until you had heard the recording of one night. You were way too flustered and wet from your own plaintive sounds that the night had ended with Wooyoung having to let you bounce on his dick for the whole night. 
“You like being pounded like a bitch in heat, don't you baby? Want the neighbours to hear and complain yet again about how you can't keep your mouth shut while having my dick inside you?” 
Although the thought gave you an adrenaline rush and caused more slick to seep out of you, Wooyoung knew better than to get a noise complaint filed against you. 
He proceeds to hoist your leg around his waist, now hitting the tip of his cock right at your g-spot. The ribbon – now completely soaked in your slick – tickles against your clit, so softly, giving it a painful simulation. 
You cry when you feel the intense rush of orgasm, fingers grasping onto the pillows as you let the squirting liquids soak your bottom halves completely. Wooyoung can barely speak at the intensity of his cock ramming into you, and your pussy squirting out more cum every time his dick sloppily thrusts into you. 
And soon enough, you feel his hot semen fill your cunt up to the brim. His haphazard thrusts causing a white ring to form around the ribbon as he groans loudly. “Fuck- can never get enough of this pussy princess, made just for me, yea?” 
Your mind was now flying through the clouds, and your eyes threatened to close. Your hair was completely a mess, his fingers soaked in your spit when he finally pulled his soft member out of you. Wooyoung mentally thanks his dick for not getting hard at the sight of your used pussy leaking spurts of his cum and staining the sheets. 
He pulls you up by your waist, carrying your docile body to the bathroom carefully. Wooyoung had to admit, as much as he loved breaking your body and pushing you far beyond your limits, he also loved to take care of your bruised body every night. He loved to place chaste kisses on you while your headspace was nowhere in place to recognize his soft words he whispered into you while washing your pliant body. He was down bad for you (and your pussy) and he knew it. 
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©️ WOOYOUNGMYBELOVEDHUSBAND.
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daydreamingyuta · 10 months
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127 Comforting You
How I think 127 would comfort you when they can tell that something is wrong but you aren’t ready to talk about it 
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Mark & Johnny: 
I think that he would be very understanding that you need some time before you are ready to talk about what’s bothering you so he would take your hand in his and softly squeeze your hand. He would do this to reassure you that he is here for you and that everything is going to be just fine. 
Doyoung & Jungwoo:
I think he would maybe not know what to do at first when he sees you upset and not wanting to talk about it right away. He wants to find a solution to the problem for you but he can’t do that without knowing what’s wrong. But he is still very patient and waits until you are ready and in the mean time he would hum softly to you while playing with your hair in the hopes that it would calm you down and make you start to feel better. 
Haechan:
He hates to see you like this, so upset that you don’t even want to talk about it. He’s so very patient in waiting for you to be ready to talk about it though.  He would hug you and hold you for as long as you need. And after a while he would start to gently sway you left and right in the hug while he places little kisses on your cheek. 
Taeyong & Taeil:
He would want to keep you close so that whenever you are ready to talk about what’s bothering you, he is right there with you. He would place you on his lap and rub your back to try to soothe you. I also think that he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear to remind you of how loved you are and how wonderful he thinks that you are. 
Jaehyun & Yuta:
He would try to comfort you by giving you a million tiny little kisses. He would place each kiss very slowly and intently to show you his love for you. He would grab your hand and place little kisses on the back of it. He would place kisses on your forehead and on your shoulder. Just absolutely everywhere until you are ready to open up to him. He knows that you love his kisses and that they always comfort you so they would make you feel so much better. 
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harpsinfinity · 6 months
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Dumbification
König x fem!reader
Warnings: overstim, smut, dumbification, badly translated German
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He knew it. Knew when he had finally rendered you incoherent, had you mindlessly babbling and spewing needy pleas as he stretched you out on his thick cock. The amount of orgasms he made pulled from you made your brain melt, your mind fog up, every thought had been knocked out of you a while ago. Too high on the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you to deny more. Only able to moan and whine and tremble as another orgasm crept up on you "come on Schlampe, I know that cunt of yours can take one more" könig groaned as he sped up the, already brutal, pace of his hips. You nodded, your eyes rolling back, breathy moans and whimpers pouring from your lips. Your body starts trembling for the umpteenth time, you can see stars. Your walls flutter around him when his big, veiny hand snakes up and grasps your neck, applying pressure to it. "Come on, cum for me schatz" you wail in mind-shattering bliss, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks to be dealt with in the morning. With one last slam inside you, your sent toppling over the edge as your drench königs cock, soaking the sheets beneath you. "K-köni !" You moan out, feeling another thick load fill you up. Finally, he lets up, pulling out with a wet pop, a string of cum sticking to the fat tip. You go limp against the bed, sinking into its soft sheets, fighting against your body that desperately needs rest after such an experience. König takes you in his burly arms, admiring the soft, exhausted features of your face.
"Rest now meine liebling, you did so well for me"
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sluttywonwoo · 5 months
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arm's-length || y.jh
pairing: yoon jeonghan x female reader
summary: you wake up sick the night before you're supposed to join your boyfriend on his work trip. you don't want to get him sick but he still wants you to go. a compromise is made.
warnings: swearing, mentions of covid (the reader does not have it though!!!!), suggestive content (mdni;18+)
word count: 4.4k
a/n: this was originally posted (years ago) on my main/tom holland account. but since i'm sick right now, i thought i might post it here too
notes: fans aren't (as) weird about k-pop idols dating in this au, seventeen also doesn't fly privately in this au... just suspend your disbelief for me
When you woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, throat burning, you assumed the worst. The shrill beeping of the thermometer in your mouth only confirmed what you already knew. You sighed, washed the thermometer and put it back in the medicine cabinet, trading it for a rapid COVID test. You still had a few a stacked underneath the sink for cases like these. You opened the package, swabbed yourself, and reached into the medicine cabinet bottle of ibuprofen. You shook two pills into your palm and used your other hand to cup water from the faucet to swallow them with. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you took a moment to look back up into the mirror at your bleak appearance. Even in the darkness you could see glassy, tired eyes staring back at you and a fine sheen of sweat that had broken out on your forehead. 
It felt like the minutes were dragging by, but your phone’s timer was going off before you knew it. You checked the test- negative, thank god, and then took a seat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, trying to decide what to do. Jeonghan was leaving to go to Paris tomorrow morning for an UNESCO event, and you were supposed to be going with him. But you couldn’t get him sick too. You wouldn’t.
Resolving to spend the rest of the night on the couch, you tiptoed back into the bedroom to grab your pillow and a blanket.
Jeonghan turned over towards you as you attempted to quietly gather everything in your arms at your side of the bed without dropping anything and you bit back a curse.
“Baby?” he asked groggily, voice raspy. You saw him blinking hard, trying to get his eyes to adjust so he could see you, but you took a step back into the darkness, knowing that if he saw the state you were in he’d never fall back to sleep, and he needed it desperately.
“Go back to sleep, Hannie, I’ll be right back,” you lied, biting your lip as you did so, but you saw him relax back into the mattress and breathed a sigh of relief.
In the living room you sprawled out on the couch, but your aching muscles prevented you from getting comfortable. The thin blanket you’d dragged from the bedroom didn’t do much for your chill, but you wrapped it around you tightly anyway, hoping it would subside once the medicine kicked in.
“Baby?” you awoke to Jeonghan’s concerned voice above you.
You sat up with a groan and immediately shut your eyes tightly, willing the splitting headache that must’ve developed overnight to go away.  
“Why’re you out here?” he asked. “Did we have a fight I’m not remembering?”
You smiled weakly. “No, baby, I’m just not feeling that good so I moved to the couch. Didn’t want to get you sick.”
“What?”
“I just have a little fever, it’s not a big deal.”
Jeonghan looked appalled. “How little?”
You pressed your lips together, not answering. His soft brown eyes hardened just the tiniest bit and he leaned over the couch to feel your forehead. You ducked him initially, and he chuckled at your stubbornness, putting his hand on your shoulder gently to steady you and you surrendered. His cool fingers on your warm skin felt nice and you let yourself relax slightly back into him as he gauged your temperature for himself.
“You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt.
“You needed sleep,” you explained, voice barely audible.
“And you didn’t?” 
You shrugged. “You have all that important stuff starting today, I just didn’t want-”
“I’m canceling it,”
“No, Jeonghan, you’re not.”
“You’re sick!”
“You can’t cancel on the UN,” you repeated in a measured tone. 
“What are they going to do, fire me?”
“I don’t know, maybe? I’d go as far as to say they’d murder you.” You took a deep breath. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “But you shouldn’t have to!”
“It’s fine, babe, really. I do it all the time, my immune system is a bitch.” You laughed lightly.
“Because I’m gone all the time,” he murmured in realization.
You frowned because that’s not what you’d been trying to get at, but you knew Jeonghan was already beating himself up for it anyway. “You know that’s not your fault. Your job…” you trailed off. 
“I just want to be able to take care of you.”
“And I don’t want to get you sick during the most important season of your career.”
Jeonghan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I-I can’t just leave you like this!”
“Fine, what about a compromise?” you asked with a cough. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, but was listening. “I go with you, but you can’t touch me.”
“What? I can’t-” he sputtered.
“Not until I’m better! Do you know how much of an earful I’d get from your managers if I gave you what I have?”
“That’s a terrible compromise.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.”
“You realize how ridiculous that sounds? I can’t touch my fucking girlfriend?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you’ll let me take care of you.”
“You can. From an arm’s length.”
“An arm’s length?! Like literally?”
“Yep.” You held your arm out in front of you to demonstrate. “That should be good.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
You were not kidding. And you were nothing if not stubborn. At the airport,  you were able to exchange your first class ticket for an economy seat in a row that wasn’t completely full when Jeonghan was taking pictures with some fans. You felt a little guilty about stranding him and going behind his back, but you told yourself it was for his own good. 
“Ready, babe?” you asked with as bright a smile as you could manage, hoping you didn’t look as sweaty as you felt.
The girls Jeonghan was surrounded by glanced up at you and gave you polite smiles. They backed off to give you guys some space, but still watched on curiously as the two of you interacted.
Jeonghan reached out for your hand and you didn’t pull away, knowing how bitchy it would look in front of the fans. He smirked as he interlaced his fingers with yours and waved goodbye to the girls. As soon as you got to the security line you yanked your hand out of his grasp, pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirting a bit into his hands. 
“You’re paranoid,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, rubbing his hands together nonetheless.
“I’m trying to save my own ass,” you muttered coughing into your sleeve a couple of times. A few people in line gave you wary looks, but you ignored them.
You sat two seats apart from Jeonghan at the gate while you were waiting for the plane to arrive and Jeonghan didn’t protest, talking to you softly as you rested your eyes. You liked to listen to his voice, and he didn’t understand it, but indulged you anyway. He talked about different people around the terminal, describing them in detail. He talked about his sister, gossiped about his members like they weren’t sitting a few feet away. He talked about how beautiful you looked, making you laugh. You were wearing his clothes, the ones you’d gone to sleep in, and your eyes were bright red. Your entire face was flushed and you were still sweaty.
“It’s time for more medicine, my love,” Jeonghan reminded you softly and you opened your eyes again. You sat up and held your palm open so that your boyfriend could shake the pills from the bottle into your hand. You swallowed them with a sip of sprite. The bubbles felt good on your throat. 
An announcement was made for first class to start boarding and Jeonghan stood with a stretch, cracking his knuckles. 
“That’s us, baby,” he said when you didn’t stand, beckoning you to join him.
“About that…”
“About what?”
-
“Mr. Yoon, I’m really sorry, but you need to board, sir.” The flight attendant was young and nervous. You felt bad about holding everyone up, and even worse for making this woman’s job harder than it had to be.
“Please just give me another moment,” he pleaded impatiently. 
You’d been arguing with him for about ten minutes. The rest of first class had already boarded and business class was on standby, the only one holding them up being Jeonghan. In any other circumstance they would’ve gone ahead and started boarding business class anyway, but because Jeonghan was a priority passenger, they had to wait for him to be seated before they could continue. 
“It makes no sense. Why the fuck would you switch you tickets?”
“Jeonghan, we’re making a scene,” you said tiredly, noticing some of the passengers waiting had their phones out. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but you knew this wasn’t going to turn out well for either of you. 
“I don’t care.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” you apologized, your voice coming out weak. “Can we talk about this later?”
He hesitated, but ultimately gave in with a curt nod. 
“Now get your ass on that plane. I’ll see you when we land.”
Jeonghan gave you a tight smile and a kiss on the cheek that made you freeze. “I love you.”
“Love you.” Bastard. 
And then you watched him go, shoulders tense, expression guarded as he handed the scanned his ticket and walked into the tunnel.
You were one of the last to board, lagging behind the other passengers as not to draw more attention to yourself. Though in hindsight, it had the opposite effect. You could feel everyone watching you out of the corner of their eyes as you walked to the back of the plane and took your seat.
The only other person in your row was an older businesswoman which left the middle seat open. She gave you a nod before turning back to her kindle. You settled into your seat for the flight and shut your eyes. You just wanted to spend the next eight hours asleep and not thinking about how Jeonghan was probably fuming in his own seat right now, but you knew your chances were slim. 
By the time the plane landed, you hadn’t even slept for an hour, despite how hard you tried. It only added to how miserable and exhausted you already were. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of your phone screen and winced at how wrecked you looked. You were already dreading getting off the plane. Not only was Jeonghan probably still mad at you, but you knew people would be taking pictures of the two of you in the airport and you looked like shit. But there wasn’t much you could do about it aside from trying to comb through your hair with your fingers, which did little to nothing. 
Jeonghan was waiting for you on the jet bridge when you got off the plane, but he didn’t speak to you. You followed him off the ramp and into the airport where he slowed a little bit so you could grab his hand.
It was a routine you were used to, but tired of. Pretending like everything was okay in public when it wasn’t. You knew it was necessary, but you didn’t like how natural it had become for you. You and Jeonghan fought like any other couple, only you had to hide it. Putting on a happy face had become second nature, even when you felt shitty. And Jeonghan giving you the silent treatment right now made you feel shitty. 
You knew you couldn’t blame him either, you had lied to him, but you already felt like you were dying and his anger wasn’t helping. 
The airport seemed a million miles long and your hand felt sweaty in Jeonghan’s. He smiled and nodded at the fans who were waiting over by baggage claim and the entrance and you tried to do the same, but your cheeks hurt after just a few minutes and you knew the pictures posted online later were going to be rough. 
You were almost out the door and in an Uber, when you began coughing and doubled over in the middle of the walkway. It was all way more dramatic than it should’ve been. It wasn’t really a big deal, it happened whenever you got sick because your asthma was a bitch. You just needed a moment to catch your breath, but in a second Jeonghan had a hand on your shoulder, standing in front of you to block you from onlookers and cameras.
“Baby, are you alright?” he asked, voice laced with concern. 
“Now you talk to me?” you shot back, smirking when a brief shade of bitterness crossed over Jeonghan’s features. You straightened up and brushed yourself off like nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Jeonghan. Let’s get to the hotel, yeah?”
He sighed, and gave you a once-over like he wasn’t sure if you were telling the truth, but relented and grabbed your hand- the one you’d accidentally coughed into before switching to the crook of your elbow (like you were supposed to do to avoid spreading germs) and you rolled your eyes. He was impossible.
Jeonghan rubbed your head in the Uber on the way to the hotel and you didn’t protest. You weren’t being very good about enforcing the whole “arm’s length” rule, but you gave yourself a pass for this one. 
-
Once at the hotel, you tried to carry some of the luggage up to your room and nearly gave Jeonghan a heart attack in the process. The way his eyes bugged out of his head when you picked up the biggest duffel bag in the pile and slung it over your shoulder while he was trying to check in was comical. You saw him curse and apologize to the receptionist before jogging over to where you were standing, leaving his credit card and wallet on the counter. 
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, and took the duffel bag from you, promptly dropping it on the floor. 
You grinned at him sheepishly. “Sorry?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he’d been doing a lot in the past twelve hours. “Just- stay here, okay? And don’t do any more weightlifting.”
You shook your head at him as he walked back over to the check-in desk, while keeping his eyes on you and nearly tripping over a side table on the way there. You stood there for a second while he finished up the paperwork and the security deposit, too out of it to do anything with yourself.
“Let’s go, hot stuff,” Jeonghan called out from across the lobby, flashing a pair of keycards at you.
He grabbed the bags this time and handed you the keys in return. As soon as you were in the room and the door clicked shut behind you, you flopped down onto the bed like a starfish, and groaned in pain.
“I’m so sorry you’re sick, baby,” Jeonghan said sweetly as he kneeled on the carpet beside you.
“And I’m sorry I went behind your back and changed my seat on the plane without telling you.”
“It’s okay. I understand why you did it. I would’ve liked to sit next to you, though.” 
“I would’ve liked that too, but I refuse to get you sick, Jeonghan. And I got like two hundred airline points when I downgraded my seat!” 
You smiled triumphantly and Jeonghan chuckled. He propped himself up on the edge of the bed on his elbows and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. He frowned.
“When was the last time you took medicine, y/n?”
You tried to recall it, but you couldn’t remember. Your brain felt too fuzzy. “I dunno.”
“Did you take anything on the plane?”
“Um…” you winced, knowing you were about to get an earful. 
“‘I can take care of myself’ absolute bullshit,” Jeonghan scoffed and reached for the backpack next to him. “I’m never leaving you home sick again.”
“Hannieee,” you whined.
He parroted your name back in the exact same tone of voice. “Here, let’s take your temperature.”
He held the thermometer out to you and you put it under your tongue lazily, already knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty. It beeped loudly only a few seconds later and Jeonghan snatched it out of your mouth before you could look at it. 
“Fuck.”
“What’s the damage, doc?”
He cracked a small smile and sighed. “One hundred point six.” He checked his watch. “Okay, it’s about six-thirty now, you can take some ibuprofen now and then some tylenol at nine-thirty.”
“Are you really supposed to swap them out like that so much?” you asked, taking the pills Jeonghan offered you.
“The managers always did it for me and the members, we turned out fine.”
“Define ‘fine’,” you teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend. 
“Please just take your medicine,” Jeonghan begged. “You haven’t had any in your system for hours.”
“I’m usually good about this stuff,” you insisted and threw the medicine back with a gulp of water. 
He slid the bottle of pills back into the backpack along with the thermometer and crossed his arms. “Yeah, something tells me that when you get sick you keep going to work even though you tell me you’re staying home, you sleep on your breaks, take ibuprofen every ten hours or so, don’t really use your inhaler- even when you’re coughing up a lung, and eat mmm once a day? That sound about right?”
He’d only really half nailed it. Well… maybe seventy percent nailed it. Eighty at best. You gave him an amused look and smiled smugly. “You don’t have any proof.”
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I have your best friend.”
“Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill her.” You sat up and reached for your phone that you’d set up to charge on the bedside table. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan grabbed your wrist gently. “She was just trying to help, love. I asked her what you usually did when you’re sick so that I could know what you like and take care of you, and she told me the truth. She worries about you, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that actually,” you admitted.
“Well she does.”
“I know those are all bad habits and stuff, but I’m not completely incompetent. I make myself tea and soup when I’m sick. I take hot baths, 
“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”
“That’d be really nice at home, but… I don’t know, I’m just weird about hotel baths.”
He nodded in understanding. “I get it, let’s just shower instead.”
“Both of us?” you asked hesitantly.
“I was thinking so?” He scrunched his face up in confusion. “Why?”
“Because,” you paused to cough, “I’m sick. I don’t want to get you sick. Arm’s length and all that.”
“I know, but it’ll help you feel better.” Jeonghan held his hand out to you. “Come on, baby,” he coaxed and led you into the bathroom. 
He managed to get you and himself undressed and in the shower without further argument from you. Truthfully, you were too tired to fight about it. You could barely stay awake and upright as Jeonghan worked shampoo through your hair, let alone form a comprehensible sentence. You moaned a bit as his strong hands rubbed soap down your torso, not being able to help your body’s reaction to his touch.
“You okay, baby?” he asked. “Am I hurting you?”
“No,” you said and shook your head, immediately regretting it when the room started spinning around you. “Sorry, just kind of out of it.”
“Don’t worry, my love.” Jeonghan smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you. You came to your senses and pushed yourself away from him. He didn’t even try to hide a frown this time.
“Can you at least try to stay healthy?” you sighed and stepped out of the shower.
Jeonghan wasn’t far behind you and wrapped a towel around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault you’re so fucking irresistible.”
You glared at him. “Smooth.”
He looked amused. “Wow you must be really sick, not even my pickup lines are working on you.”
“I’m going to bed,” you said, ignoring him.
You climbed into bed in a sweatshirt, pajama pants, and socks while Jeonghan came to bed in just his boxers. You looked at him in disbelief. 
“You’ll freeze, Hannie. It’s cold as fuck in here.”
“No it’s not,” he replied and bit his lip. “You’ve got a fever, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, baby. I can warm you up,” he offered and rolled over to hold you, only to be smacked with a pillow. 
“Keep your hands to yourself, Yoon.”
You made a small barrier of pillows between you so neither of you would accidentally (or purposely, ahem Jeonghan) roll over and touch the other in the middle of the night. 
“Are you serious?” Jeonghan pouted. “Baby-”
“Nuh-uh we had a deal. You need to be feeling your best for... whatever it is you’re doing tomorrow. You’re the interim leader, after all.” 
“Whatever,” he huffed and rolled over onto his other side.
“You’ll be thanking me whenever you don’t catch what I have,” you said and coughed a few more times. 
You rolled over to turn off the lamp on the table next to you before pulling the covers all the way up to your chin and finally, finally getting some sleep. 
You dreamt about him. About Jeonghan. About his hands on your body while being buried deep inside you. His mouth was on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. You arched your back when he moaned softly in your ear, gripping the sheets tightly with one hand, using the other to pull at his hair. You felt yourself getting close when he began thrusting into you harder than before and you gasped at the sensation, only getting closer to the edge when he called out your name. 
“Y/n,” at first whispered and then more firmly. “Y/n. Y/n!”
Your eyes snapped open and you searched the dark room frantically, looking for Jeonghan. He was right next to you, gazing at you in concern. His hair was sticking up all over the place from where he’d moved around in his sleep and he was looking at you expectantly. 
“You were calling out for me, are you okay?”
Your face was burning with embarrassment and you wondered if he could tell. You were still breathing hard, and you were a little sweaty, but you couldn’t tell if it was from your fever or from your dream. “I’m fine, sorry to wake you.” 
“Were you… dreaming about me?” he pressed, leaning over the pillow barrier to look at you closely. 
You hesitated. “Uh, yeah.”
“What was the dream about?”
“Nothing important, we were, um…in a corn maze! We were in a corn maze and I couldn’t find you and that’s why I was calling out for you.”
“A corn maze?” He didn’t look convinced.
“Mhm.”
“Baby?” he asked again. 
“Yeah?”
“Was it a sex dream?”
“…maybe.”
Jeonghan’s face lit up and he lifted himself up onto his arms to climb on top of you. “Here let me help-”
You held out and arm to stop him. “I’m, I’m fine Jeonghan,” you lied, clenching your thighs together. 
He flopped back down onto his stomach on top of the pillow barrier. “So if I reached into your panties right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”
You swallowed. “Nope.”
“Liar.”
“I’m fine, Jeonghan! Sex is literally the last thing we should be doing right now! Do you know how much bacteria-”
“I never said anything about sex,” he countered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I was just going to eat you out! I want you to feel better, baby.”
“I think that’s somehow worse?”
“No way, I don’t think I can catch anything from eating you out.”
“I’m almost positive you can, Hannie. I’m fine.”
“I’m googling it!” He announced and rolled back over. Before you could protest the light from his phone was shining over his face as he typed. “Can you catch a contagious virus from eating pussy?”
“That’s going to be in your search history forever.”
“The internet doesn’t say anything against it,” he declared victoriously.
“Does it say anything about it at all?”
“Uh… yeah. It says it’s fine”
“Who’s the liar now, Jeonghan?” He grinned sheepishly. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine. I’m not even horny anymore.”
He looked at you like he didn’t believe you, but ultimately put his phone back on the table and closed his eyes again. In no time he was breathing deeply and you could relax. Why was common sense so lacking in your boyfriend? What part of the no touching deal did he not understand? The answer was all of it and it was a pain in the ass. He was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass that you loved very much, but a pain in the ass nonetheless. 
You closed your eyes, but couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired, you were still completely exhausted, but Jeonghan had been right. You were still insanely turned on from your dream and you weren’t sure what to do about it. You waited a few minutes for the urge to subside, but it didn’t. 
“You were about to cum, weren’t you?” Jeonghan piped up out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.
“Fuck, I thought you were asleep.”
“Just answer the question,” Jeonghan growled, not helping your current situation whatsoever. “In your dream, you were about to, right? You were biting your lip like you do when you’re going to cum.”
You sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I was.”
“But you didn’t?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Let me help you finish, baby. It’ll help you sleep,” Jeonghan insisted. “You need rest.”
You sniffled and groaned. “Ugh, you’re impossible, you know that?”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes,” you surrendered and pushed the blankets down below your hips. “But the rule still applies. Arm’s length.”
He smirked. “I think I can work with that.”
873 notes · View notes
tinyarsonist · 3 months
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Volume: Up PREVIEW
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"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."
Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.
MDNI
TW: idol!Chan, idol trainee Y/N, drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, let me know if I missed anything!
Italics are in Korean. Bold in Spanish. Rest in English.
PREVIEW under cut
Released Work: here
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The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.
What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he actually scramble your brain so much that you do scream for him in Korean?
He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.
The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--
He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washing away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.
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Author Note: Hai hai! This is my first time writing smut. Please let me know if I missed anything in the TW tag. Also, if anyone wants to be tagged when the full work is released, please let me know or interact with my taglet linked here 🤭
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bucknastysbabe · 1 year
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So. I saw this picture. He looks so soft and huggable. Therefore my brain spat this out. Obvi I love chubby grump Bucky who can F U C K
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 2, 623 words
Synopsis: Bucky is having a mid-life crisis at 100 something years. His girlfriend is an aggravating little angel shit who doesn’t understand why. Cue pool time and ripped blonde superheroes making poor Bucky extra grumpy.
Tags: Chubby!bucky, avenger!reader, size difference, age gap (twenties and technically late thirties), pnv!sex, daddy kink, Bucky’s hating ass internal dialogue, the reader is a slut for the extra Fluff, pwp, fluff and smut, him Jealous, and Big, I tried to make it humorous heehee
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Poolside blues
It was hot. Bucky sucked on his popsicle angrily, sulking under an umbrella. He wore his t-shirt even in the blazing heat. Bucky grimaced at the cloth sticking to his skin, pulling at the fabric with a huff. He didn’t want to run around shirtless when the likes of Steve and Thor were basking in the sun— the golden gods they were.
So Bucky sucked on his popsicle, his fourth one already. He flexed his metal fist, cursing it for being such an eye sore. The assassin was convinced his body had it out for him. Mess of a shoulder, ropey bullet scars, and way too much extra weight he didn’t ask for. Bucky stared down at the soft flesh adorning his midsection, lips twisting into a frown.
Hydra had royally fucked his metabolism up, serum or not. Add a plethora of mood stabilizers and Bucky looked like a damn chipmunk hoarding up for the winter. His girlfriend thought it was cute, cooing and pinching his fleshy hip. Bucky did not think it was ‘cute’. He’d never been like this in his over-extended life. Soft.
He’d held thick muscle since the serum and kept that up at the least. The brunette worked out religiously to rid himself of that extra pudge. Now he was jacked with the stupid layer over it— making him feel like a bulky lummox. Therefore if he was going to sweat to death by the pool, so be it.
Bucky’s icy eyes flickered to his best girl playing around with Thor in the water. She giggled and batted at the blonde god while he picked her tiny frame up. The brunette’s eye twitched while gripping his popsicle stick until it crushed. His girlfriend was too cute for her own good, often drawing attention from the other sex.
“Are you just going to drill holes in them with your mind or get in the pool?”
Bucky glared at his oldest friend. Steve smiled down softly, big hands on his waspy waist. He grumbled, “I’m fine. Punk.” The blonde teased, “That’s why your shirt is soaked then huh? Go get in the water you’re making me miserable looking at ya.”
“Nope,” Bucky shot back, popping the ‘p’.
Steve sighed and dove into the huge pool. Bucky pouted efficiently from the side-lines. Thor had his stupid blonde hair and stupid white teeth and stupid washboard abs. His girlfriend appeared in his line of sight, her brows knitted in concern. Bucky attempted to not stare at her perky tits— nipples peaked under her blue strappy bikini.
She hummed, “I can feel you drowning in self-pity over here. Why don’t you get in babe?”
He was staring at her tits now, he didn’t care, not really. Bucky shrugged, “You have fun I’m fine over here. Thor is waiting.” She narrowed her eyes up at him, pushing back damp hair. Bucky licked his lips, holding the woman’s glare.
In a swift motion she launched onto the concrete.
Clambering up she swayed toward the grumpy man, droplets running down her tight body. Bucky took in the view, getting lost in it really. He could watch her all day and sometimes would. The assassin grunted as she plopped onto his lazily spread thighs, soaking him. Bucky hissed, “What was that for?”
The coolness of her skin felt amazing. He willed himself to not pop wood in front of the few teammates milling around. His girl leaned over, breasts about to spill, and pressed against his padded chest. She simpered, “Buck, c’mon, you know no one around here cares. You’re perfect.”
Bucky snorted, “To you, maybe.”
She frowned and lightly slapped at his shoulder, lips pouting. Bucky hated when the pretty thing pouted— he somehow would up doing what she wanted in the first place.
Every. Single. Time.
She ran a finger down his chest, big eyes begging, “Get in the pool, please? You look so upset over here and that makes me sad.”
Once again Bucky lost to her feminine wiles, groaning out a strained ‘fine’. Her mouth split into a toothy smile, cheering, “Yay!” He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm. Sometimes Bucky forgot she was a little over ten years his junior. If one took off the cryogenically frozen periods. She hopped back into the water, eyes eagerly flickering to the side.
Bucky hauled himself up and reluctantly peeled off his dark shirt, revealing his pale skin and soft parts. He willed himself to not curl into a ball or run away screeching. Steve wolf-whistled, sending an embarrassed flush across the brunette’s full cheeks. He barked, “Knock it off Rogers!”
Sam, as always, had ESP for people flustering Bucky. He shouted from the grill, “Looking thick my man! Whole slice of beef!” The assassin was convinced he was going to self combust, sliding into the water to cover himself up. His girlfriend snickered when Bucky resurfaced from his shame dive, splashing his face.
He frowned down at her, the spitfire raising a brow in challenge. Bucky slung her over a thick shoulder, hand across the backs of her thighs. She laughed and kicked, playfully squirming. Bucky had half a mind to leave a mark on her ass, show the Asgardian who she really belonged to. She stopped thrashing and murmured, “If you do not stop being jeal-“
The assassin cut her off when he dunked under the water. She spluttered and cursed at him, Bucky laughing, “Sorry sweets, what were you saying?”
“Put me down or I’m ripping your hair out!,” she howled. He chuckled and slowly let the angry avenger down. She shook her head, flicking the sensitive skin below his belly button. Bucky winced and gaped petulantly— horribly trying to block of the feeling of jiggle. The woman latched back onto him, pressing a feathery kiss to his bearded jaw. With a dirty smirk, spirits lifted, Bucky led them to the shelf in the deep end.
Sitting back he groped at her ass under the water, earning a squawk and another slap in return. She whispered angrily, “Stop that! Not in public!” Bucky grinned dumbly, eyes flickering to her perky chest. He apologized, saccharine sweet, “Sorry baby, you’re just so pretty I couldn’t help myself.”
Tony Stark and Natasha approached the pool, him lowering his sunglasses at the pair. Stark sipped his drink and loudly observed, “Horndogs at it again. Barnes you’re a nasty old man, you know that?”
Sam sniped, “They call him Bucknasty for a reason!”
Bucky’s temples throbbed with annoyance. He shouted at Sam, “No one calls me that but you! Bird brain!” He needed to scoop the girl up and take off— now. Steve was howling with laughter, hand slapping his chest, Thor smiling in confusion. She turned and grinned at Tony, “He’s my nasty old man.” The woman laid an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. Stark pretended to gag and situated himself in a lounge chair. Natasha’s lips quirked up, green eyes sparkling with amusement.
Bucky rumbled quietly, “I’ll show you nasty if you keep it up acting like that in my lap.”
Her tits bounced when she inhaled sharply, shit-eating grin falling from her face. Bucky lecherously grabbed another handful of ass for example. Her voice quavered when she weakly replied, “Very funny Buck. Not in front of everyone!”
“I’m not being funny. Seeing you getting flipped around by the blondes has me feeling…some type of way.”
Bucky was proud of his updated lingo, courtesy of the sexy trembling thing in front of him. She huffed quietly, squirming minutely on his thick thighs. “Jesus Christ, they’re all going to know when we both leave.”
“I think Clint complaining about us being loud all the time lets the team know what the deal is,” he smoothly pointed out.
With another harsh look Bucky regretfully watched her get out of the pool. Now he had to walk in front of everyone without a safety blanket again. He briskly climbed out after her, keeping his eyes focused ahead. Tony complimented, “Looking yoked there Barnes, trying to bulk right now?”
Bucky wanted to hiss at the billionaire like a feral cat. He felt like he’d been bulking for months. Just not allowed to cut— so sayeth the metabolism. He grabbed a towel and threw it around broad shoulders, aggravated with how his belly was on display. She was toweling her hair off.
“C’mon then you beast,” she snickered.
“Beast?,” he echoed.
Bucky hauled her up again, the smaller one yelping. He snatched his sweaty shirt up and carried her to the elevator. She sarcastically questioned, “Do you always have to carry me around like a caveman when you get jealous?” Bucky grunted in agreement, thumbing at the soft skin of her thighs.
She said, “You do know I only think about you, like, all the time.” Bucky couldn’t help but let his heart skip a beat. Still he whinged, “I don’t know why when there’s all these… ripped guys hanging around.” His girlfriend scoffed and rolled her doe eyes. She remained quiet on the walk, ensuing quiet ride up the elevator, and the remainder of the trip to his rooms.
Deposited on the bed she informed Bucky, “No matter how many times you shrug it off, I think you’re really hot. I like a little fluff on my men.” The brunette shook his head, crawling onto the covers. He muttered, “I don’t. I follow you around like some goddamn oaf.”
She pinched his cheek, grinding out, “You’re a little soft and I happen to enjoy you fucking me into the bed. Stubborn mule.” Bucky’s dick twitched at her words, grabbing an ankle to pull her closer. She continued matter-of-factly, “It’s also nice to have my big scary boyfriend behind me. It turns me on.”
Bucky peered at her, face set in suspicion. She ran a hand down his side, finishing it’s path at the laces of his swim trunks. Her face was cutely set in determination, deft hands untying the shorts. The assassin groaned low in his throat as the cloth fell down, exposing his aching cock. He climbed out of them and threw the shorts across the room.
Bucky eyed her up, watching her cheeks heat at his gaze. He gently positioned himself between her legs, pointedly keeping his weight off to her chagrin. Bucky sealed his watering mouth over a covered nipple, sucking eagerly. She whined and flexed under him, thighs wrapping around his hips.
“Ah! Buck!”
Her long lashes fluttered when his other hand untied the strings on the top. Bucky eased off the flimsy fabric, whistling lowly at her full tits. He nipped and flicked his tongue on a peaked bud, tweaking the other. She cried out, rutting up against his heavy cock.
Bucky’s lips split into a grin when he realized she was also untying her bottoms with shaky hands. He pulled off a nipple and teased, “That needy for it, huh?” She yanked off the offending fabric with a nibble at his jaw. Bucky would purr in contentment if he could. Until the nip at the flesh under his chin— which granted he has always had but still didn’t appreciate it.
He grumbled and lightly swatted her ass with a grimace. She mused, “You’re so hot. Honestly. I wish you would believe me Buck.” The assassin ignored her comment, instead sucking marks on her collarbone. She writhed underneath him, the wetness of her pussy sliding against him. The woman whimpered, hands holding his cheeks insistently, “C’mon and fuck me, please daddy.”
Bucky almost exploded, came back, just to explode again into a puddle of goo. She wanted to play like that today. He gripped her hips with low moan, eyes traveling up the expanse of skin. His girlfriend’s chest heaved, eyes darkly glazed. Bucky growled, “Y’want me to fuck you? Shouldn’t daddy finger you first?”
Huff. She shook her head no, dragging the molten slick across his need. Softly she begged, “C’mon daddy please, want to feel the stretch, need you.” Bucky’s eyes rolled in sheer desire, nudging the blunt head of his cock against her opening. He slid in with a curse, eyes clenching shut.
She was snug as always around him, pulsing and seemingly sucking Bucky in. The woman whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. She gasped, “So big, fuck daddy, don’t stop!” Bucky was not going to stop unless he magically disappeared.
He braced an arm beside her pretty flushed face to get leverage. With a lewd smack Bucky clapped his hips into her, enjoying the wanton whine. The brunette pulled back to give another roll of his hips, moaning lowly. He got into the rhythm he knew she liked— slow but forceful. Bucky smiled down, cooing.
“You’re so pretty babygirl, taking me so well,” he emphasized with a deep thrust. She clawed at his shoulders, pressing sloppy kisses to his throat. Wide eyes met his, her breathing, “No you’re pretty.” Bucky narrowed his lids, apparently his girl wanted to be a little shit.
“I don’t understand why you won’t let me- shit! Daddy!,” she cried out with a smile, “Compliment you!” Bucky picked her legs up and hiked them higher, driving his hips into that silky-soft spot. He grunted in pleasure as she arched and yanked at his hair, mouth hung open with punched out ‘ah’s’.
Bucky rumbled, “I don’t like it- fuck sweets so tight- because it’s exaggerated!” He was panting with exertion now, reveling in the tell-tale slaps of skin echoing. The petite Avenger under him whimpered when Bucky hit her g-spot dead on, tears pricking her eyes. Bucky kissed a droplet, murmuring sweet nothings.
“Keep fucking me daddy, I’m gonna hah- cum!,” she wailed. Bucky urged, “Yeah babydoll, want you to, c’mon need it.” He thumbed around her clit, breathing into her lax mouth, swallowing up those broken keens. She sobbed his name into the kiss, clawing and scrabbling when she clamped down on him. Bucky’s eyes rolled up at the pulsing and gush of slick, fucking her through the orgasm.
His baby’s loud keens turns into little whimpers as he kept thrusting into her tight body. She quavered, “Cum in me please daddy!” The woman nipped along his jaw again, rubbing at his flexing ass. Bucky felt his lower belly tighten, a swirling fog gathering in his brain purely driven by need. He growled, “I’m gonna fill that sweet pussy up, you want that from Daddy, huh?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Ask and one shall receive. Bucky felt his balls draw up and he came with an embarrassingly slutty groan. He drooled onto her neck, gasping through the brunt of his body emptying into her wet heat. She cooed, “Oh, so good, ah thank you daddy.” Bucky collapsed halfway onto his girlfriend, still firmly snug inside.
She rubbed a trembling hand across his bloodied shoulders, serumed body already working on knitting the claw marks back up. Bucky simply breathed, unable to come up with intelligent words. His brain had probably shot out of his dick. She maddeningly caressed his, ugh, love handle.
Bucky groaned, “Stop it.”
She retracted the touch and rasped, throat bruised from yelling, “One day I’m going to convince you Buck. Perfect as you are.” Bucky snorted, “We’ll see about that.” He softened at her lithe hands pushing his sweaty hair back, grinning like he’d hung the moon. He murmured, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
She giggled and cuddled up like a damn koala. Bucky didn’t truly mind, albeit she may be delusional and think overweight one hundred year old former assassins are sexy. He was glad he’d been able to find the loon, all his to boot. Bucky shook his head in amusement, the feeling of her sharp teeth on his chin again, him starting to protest.
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ldysmfrst · 18 days
Text
American Mate - (4)
First Case of Alpha Space
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Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 4 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 4132
Work count for Story: 16,244
Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine
A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I have had to take time off work to accommodate many MANY doctor appointments. I started a Ko-fi if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.
Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, Panic attacks, comfort, Alpha Space, and Cultural differences.
Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?
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Is it really that big of a deal that you got hurt? My god, you were 35 already. You have never lived a sheltered life. You have had your fair share of broken bones, twisted ankles, scrapes, and bruises. 
You are always going on adventures, riding horses, and climbing things you probably should not be climbing. The external scars you bear are associated with stories that are good conversation starters when you feel like showing them. 
Things would be difficult for a while because you are right-handed. You have a few days of sick time saved up that you can use to start with. Hopefully, this will help you gain some kind of compliance from your award left hand. 
Work, however, is going to be the hard part. Luckily, your work is typically done on electronics, meaning nothing has to be handwritten. Even if you tried to write left-handed, no one could read it. You would bet money doctors had better writing than you did. Dictation software to save the day!
Hearing Derek’s voice broke you out of your thoughts regarding your near future. Watching him act cautiously while interacting with the other hybrid was interesting. There is clearly a difference in how he acts with Yoongi than Evie. Giggling to yourself at the mention of being a mate with Derek gains the attention of both. 
“Oh, sorry. The thought of being a mate, much less to Derek, was amusing, I guess.” 
You missed the slight frown that briefly graced both men’s faces. Derek thought you were implying he wasn’t mate material, and Yoongi thought you believed you were not worthy of being a mate.                  
“Thanks Y/n. I let you know that I am a catch despite being a Beta. Besides, this isn’t about me right now. We need to get the leadership involved with what to do moving forward. Are you okay if we bring in the others?”
“Yes, please. I need to speak with Director Johnson, fill out an incident report… um or dictate an incident report, and then get to a doctor.” Attempting to stand up, you are blocked by the golden-yellow eyes that have not stopped watching your every move.
”Mr. Min, I need to get some things done and take care of my wrist.”
Yoongi’s eyes narrow, and a soft growl pours through the room, causing your eyes to widen. You look over your shoulder at Derek with a ‘what-the-F-did-I-do’ expression, only to be met with a smirk.
“Y/n, I don’t think you understand what is going on. You haven’t dealt with a situation like this before. You may love hybrids but you still have limited interactions with our culture and this dynamic.”
Walking backward toward the door, Derek continues, “With the state of mind that Mr. Min is in, it might be best if a packmate explains.”
Derek opens the break room door to face Hoseok, Teahyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook, who are all staring. “Oh, Hi there.”
Then, as if someone had turned the mute off, they all started talking simultaneously. 
“Is Yoongi-hyung dropped yet?”
“그 사람 괜찮아요?”
“Why does she still smell hurt?”
“Wait, wait, wait, please,” Derek puts his hands up, motioning to stop.
“I do not know Korean for one and for two Mr. Min has gone into full non-verbal Alpha Space and I  am not sure he will be coming out of it anytime soon. However, one of you should go in to handle the situation  and she needs to talk with Director Johnson.”
At the mention of the director, a low growl came from Taehyung, causing Derek to take a step back and lower his eyes in an automatic response to a displeased Alpha.
The scent of calming leather gently flows over the group at the door as Namjoon steps forward. His mind is still reeling a million miles a second with you being their mate and you being injured. To top it off, Yoongi is on a deep level of Alpha Space.
“Sorry about that. I can come in, but the director is busy at the moment dealing with the playmates, corporate office, and Manager Sejin,” Namjoon apologizes as he enters the room.
He follows Derek to where his packmate and Y/n are situated at a table. Taehyung and Jungkook follow quickly.
They both kneel respectfully behind Yoongi. Their Alphas recognize that Yoongi is currently in charge of you, and it would be unwise to display anything that could be considered a threat by approaching you too quickly.
They both need to be close to you, and their instincts to be with their injured mate drive their actions. Looking you over for injuries, their eyes resting on your wrist with furrowed brows and set jaws. 
Taehyung’s eyes change to crystal blue as his tail flickers almost in time with Yoongi’s as he slips into Alpha Space. 
“Namjoon-hyung, Y/n is hurt. She needs a hospital, I think,” Jungkook says, his ears standing straight up on his head, one-pointedly focused on you and the other twitching between his Prime Alpha and the door. 
“It is not that big of an issue, Mr. Jeon, Mr. Min, and Mr. Kim.” Looking up from the trio in front of you and addressing the Prime Alpha, “Sir, I have specific protocols to follow due to company procedure. I have to talk with the Director.” 
A growl from one of the men in front of you freezes your words, unsure of what you did to cause their reactions. Internally, you groan because it seems all you get from them are growls, as if you vex them more than you humanly possible. 
“Miss Y/n, we have already talked to Director Johnson,” Namjoon says with a look of distaste. 
“He has been informed that you are now under the care of Bangtan Pack following hybrid customs.  It would be wise to refrain from talking about him at the moment, he did not leave a good impression with the pack.”
Your brows scrunch in confusion, making the hybrids want to coo at your cute face. Clearing his throat (aka his mind), Namjoon continues, “We have more pressing matters to attend to besides paperwork.” 
“You are injured, and we have to get you to a doctor. Manager Sejin is currently contacting one of our personal physicians that we normally use while on tour to have you treated.”
“What? Why would I use your doctor? I can just go to the local clinic.” Your scent spikes almost like a heavy perfume with anxiety with the flashbacks of your nightmare. 
“Please, I have taken up much of your time, and caused enough problems as it is. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a bother.”
At your words, you are surrounded by multiple growls and watched by now golden-yellow, crystal blue, and smokey gray eyes. Scooting back in the chair, you nervously ask, “Derek, what did I do?”
“Y/n, you really don’t get it do you? For as smart as you are, sometimes you can be oblivious.” He smiles and shakes his head, stepping back from the group and heading towards the door.
“Mr. Kim, as Prime Alpha, you might want to explain what is happening and what she should be expecting. Mind you, she has been fiercely independent for the last 15 years of her life.”
“I wish you the best with her. It won’t be easy, trust me, I know. Good Luck.” Derek bows slightly to Namjoon once he reaches the break room door.
Looking at you again, this time with a smile filled with adoration for his best friend and what he thinks your future may hold, Derek says, “Relax and have fun.” Then he turns and leaves the room. 
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As Derek leaves the room, he smiles at the remaining pack guarding the door. “Mr. Kim, Mr. Jung, and Mr.Park, I think your human does not understand what is happening.”
“Our human? So you know?” Seokjin questions with wide, cautious eyes.
Derek looks over his shoulder at the closed break room door. “At first, I thought it was just a typical Alpha reaction with him being the cause of Y/n getting injured, but his care and gentleness seemed to come from somewhere deeper. Add on the fact that your other two are fighting Alpha space. It would be hard to miss.”
“The other two?” someone asks.
Shaking his head, Derek looks back at the remaining three. “Yes, the younger Mr. Kim and Mr. Jeon’s Alphas surfaced just before I left. Your Prime Alpha is going to try to sort things out, but he may need some back up.”
“Meanwhile I am going to find our boss and see what needs to be done before you all run  away with her.” Derek leaves the pack to mull over the new information.
“Tae has never been one to control his Alpha well when one of us is hurt. I am not surprised if he slipped once near her. Kook always runs on instinct too, so it makes sense he slipped as well,” Seokjin contemplates. 
“Should we stay out here? Miss y/n’s pack member said it would be better to go in and help Namjoon? Three of us in Alpha space with an injured mate is not going to be easy,” Hoseok adds. 
Nibbling on his lower lip, Jimin thinks of ways to handle the situation. Even though he is one of the younger packmates, keeping the pack calm is his gift. 
He just doesn’t know how to handle you yet, especially since you don’t know what you mean to the pack.
“Good, at least three of you are here, and I assume the rest have made their way into the room with Miss Y/n,” Manager Sejin says while walking up to the group. 
“I have spoken with Big Hit, the Director at Playmate Service Incorporated, and Dr. Blackwell. Everyone is onboard and the doctor is ready to go.”
“Thank you,” Seokjin says, feeling relief that no one seems to be fighting this. “Namjoon is in with the rest of the pack and Miss Y/n, we should go in. From what Mr. Gulley says, Miss y/n does not seem to understand the situation to the fullest. I just hope that Namjoon can clear some things up.”
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“Relax and have fun? What does he mean by that?” You mumble as you glare at the now-closed door that one of your best friends just shut. 
He willingly left you with four Alpha male idols. 
Three of them are kneeling on the floor with non-human eyes, and the Prime Alpha, looking around the room like the way to explain what's happening is painted on the walls.
Taking a breath, you say, “Mr. Kim, Prime Alpha… Sir. Derek is right. I have no actual experience with Alphas. I can tell that there must be some kind of instinctual drive going on, and there are trigger words or actions.”
“I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have. What do I do to make it easier for your pack?”
At your words, the kneeling Alphas gave a multitude of pleasant chirps. You looked at the three of them, a little confused. They seemingly smiled and made almost the same sound at what you said.
Okay, so they can growl and chirp. Your curiosity spikes when you think of what other animal-like sounds they can make as hybrids.
Drawing your attention back to him, Namjoon finds the words to explain what is happening, “Miss Y/n, you have done so much to help the Bangtan Pack feel welcome today.”
With a gentle smile, he continues, “So please relax, you have not caused any trouble, and we highly doubt that you will.” 
Thinking to himself, ‘At least, not in the way you seem to be thinking.’
“Alpha’s run with a higher level of instinct than your Beta packmember. As an Alpha, Yoongi instinctually feels responsible for your injury. In order to calm that instinct, a few things will most likely need to happen.” 
Watching as you seem to sit up with interest, he continues, “First things first, he and his Alpha need to get at least your injury treated.”
“He has to be the one to take me to get it treated? I can’t have him go with me to the clinic! There are fans and sasaengs and the media! What about your schedule? You always hear about the tight schedules Idols have and you have already spent all afternoon here over this.”
You start panicking about the hordes of people you hear about following the band around. God, the amount of bad publicity that would come from catching you and THE Suga of BTS at a clinic. You can’t imagine what nonsense they would come up with?
Your scent goes into an even heavier version; it takes on an almost alcoholic aspect. The kneeling Alphas instinctually send out calming pheromones while moving closer. 
Yoongi’s tail, still wrapped around your ankle, tightens while he gently rubs the back of your injured hand, which he is cradling protectively. 
Taehyung starts to purr softly, hoping that the sound will comfort you. 
Jungkook, on instinct alone, scoots up to your left side, nudges his head under your left hand, and rests on your leg.
The feeling of Jungkook’s head on your leg snaps you out of your thoughts and brings you back into the room. You hold still as you start to recognize similar comforting behaviors the Alphas are doing with those that Evie always does, allowing you to take a deep breath.
“Sorry. I was raised to take care of myself and not impose on others.”
“Miss Y/n, you are not imposing. Again, Yoogni ran into you while rushing out of the room, and it's his responsibility to make amends. Actually, as a bonded pack, it is our responsibility, too.”
“The pack? Like all of you? Is this why they are all like this, with their eyes and stuff?” 
Absent-mindedly, you run your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, softly scratching his scalp, soothing not only yourself but also the youngest Alpha. 
A soft chuckle escapes Namjoons as he watches your instinctual interactions with the youngest mate. “Yes, that is the best way to explain the eyes and stuff, as you put it.”
“Jungkook and Taehyung will find it easier to leave their Alpha Space since they are not the ones responsible for the injury but trying to be supportive to both of you.” 
Hearing a knock on the door, he calls, “Who is it?”
“Namjoon-ssi, it's Manager Sejin. I have some updates and a few questions. Can I enter?” The door opens slightly to reveal it’s him. 
At Namjoon's nod, he enters. The door remains open as the scents in the room are constricting in their density. He is followed by the rest of the pack, who take up guarding now from inside.
“Did you contact everyone?”
“Big Hit and the Corporate Director are on the same page and will follow the hybrid protocol, but details must be discussed once Miss Y/n has met with the doctor,” Manager Sejin reports to the Prime Alpha.
Moving to look at you, he continues, “I contacted Dr. Blackwell, thinking you may be more comfortable with a female doctor.” 
Glancing at the boys surrounding you closely, his scent changes with curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, looking at Namjoon. With a subtle nod, he confirms that something more is happening but does not move to explain.
Looking back at you, he gently smiles, “With the situation at hand, it may be best to limit other males around you until everyone is out of Alpha space. They tend to get territorial. Dr. Blackwell is on standby, ready to assess and treat you once we know where you will be.”
“Why wouldn’t she just come here, or I go to her?”
“Miss Y/n, Dr. Blackwell is a traveling physician. She doesn’t have a permanent office to use but she is well respected in both the human and hybrid communities.”
“Oh, I see. Well, umm…” you look at Namjoon and ask, “What option would be best for your pack?”
Namjoon’s chest puffs slightly at your show of respect to him as the Pack Prime Alpha despite the situation and your pain level. “Not to make you uncomfortable, Miss Y/n, but I think meeting Dr. Blackwell at our AirBnB would be best.”
You take a moment to think, your hand pulsing with pain. They cannot all fit in your flat; it's a mess after you tore through your closet to find the right clothes for today.
They don’t seem to like being here. Instinctually, even Derek and Evie prefer being in their dens when one of the three of you is hurt or sick. 
“Okay. If it is best for the pack, then I will go with you to the AirBnB and see Dr. Blackwell.” 
It’s almost as if a weight is lifted out of the room, allowing the pack to take a breath. 
“Yoon, Kook, and Tae. Can you give Miss Y/n some room? We have to take her to the pack house to see a doctor,” Namjoon says with a firm voice, gaining smiles from the men kneeling on the floor. 
Jungkook stands and curls into the Prime Alpha, his eyes returning to their natural color.
Taehyung rocks back on his heels but remains near. His body is more relaxed and his eyes are still crystal blue, shifting between Yoongi and you in wait.
After watching the two younger Alphas move around, your attention turns to the Jaguar kneeling with expectant but questioning eyes. 
 “Mr. Min, if I promise that you can stay with me, will you let me go get my things and then you can take me to the pack house?”
Yoongi’s face lights up with a gummy smile as he nods. Your breath hitches at the sight. How can the devastatingly handsome rapper look so adorable?
He stands up, his tail unwrapping from your leg. He softly takes both of your hands while he assists you in standing. You smile and mumble a small thanks as you step forward to leave.
“Prime Alpha, do you think I can talk with Derek briefly to let him know what is happening? This way he can talk to the direc… Boss. Talk to the boss and let him know that I am leaving for the day?”
“Yes, talking to him will be fine. He has been established as part of your familial pack and won’t be considered a threat to the pack if he comes around you now,” Namjoon answers, moving out of your way and motioning for the rest to let you pass.
Bowing slightly, “Thank you, Prime Alpha.”
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Making it to your desk is more complicated than one would think. 
Yoongi won’t leave your right side, while Taehyung won’t leave your left. Both act like it's code red and someone is trying to assassinate you. Then you have the rest of BTS trailing behind like some kind of posse. 
You keep your head down to avoid any strange looks or glares from whomever you pass. To your relief, you find Derek waiting at your desk with his head resting on his palms and a mischievous smile. 
“I see you are taking things in stride,” glancing at your plethora of bodyguards. “Did the Prime Alpha explain everything to you?”
Speaking up from the back of the group, Namjoon answers for you, “She is aware that we are responsible for her at this time and she will be treated at our temporary pack house by our doctor.”
You don’t miss Derek's look of concern as he tilts his head with curiosity at Namjoon. “I see, of course. You are just responsible for getting her treated.”
“Derek, can you please let the big boss know that I will be leaving with Bangtan Pack to seek medical care and once I have more updates I will let you both know?” 
Glancing at Yoongi and still seeing his lovely golden-yellow eyes, you try to ignore the slight flutter in your stomach, “I don’t think it would be good for me to talk with him myself still.”
Derek nods in response, “Manager Sejin has already given the boss a rough time frame for the near future. I suppose his managing skills came in handy. Don’t worry about us here. We can handle it while you heal.”
Standing up, Derek passes you your purse, which Taehyung takes. You try to grab it again, but only to have a black and white tail wrap around your arm and bring it back down to your side.
“No carry. Keep safe.” Taehyung almost grunts out in a deeper-than-deep voice, which short-circuits your brain.
Glancing at Derek out of the side of your eye, you see him briefly nod and smile encouragingly while he whispers, “It’s an Alpha Space thing. Best acknowledge his help.”
“Umm… Th-tha-hank you, Alpha,” you stammer out, willing the heat creeping up your neck to stop as your words pull a boxy grin from the Tiger.
“I think that is it,” you announce to nobody in particular. You smile awkwardly at Derek as he slowly approaches you.
“Y/n, you have been through so much. Not just today but in your life. You have always been the one to take the blame for others, working harder or longer than anyone else and caring for those who never return the favor.”
His eyes glance at the men surrounding you as he sees nods of understanding and looks of concern from them.
As a soft smile blooms on his face, he holds onto your good hand, “Take time for yourself and let this pack of Alphas take care of you. You deserve it more than anyone else I know.”
He pulls you into a hug. You briefly stiffen, waiting for the growling and pulling to start, but to your surprise, it doesn't. Relaxing into his hug, you take his words to heart.
A soft whisper in your ear, “You know you will always have Evie and me as your family pack, but right now, be open to the pack around you,” with one last squeeze, Derek steps back and returns to your desk.
“Now, shoo! Off you go. The boss said I’ll get to man the front desk for now.”
With a nod, you wave goodbye and face the hybrids behind you. After not finding Manager Sejin and a few others missing,  your eyes settle automatically on Namjoon, waiting for a clue as to what to do next. 
“Manager Sejin went down to get the cars. Seokjin-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, and Jimin also went down because we won’t all fit in the elevator.”
“Oh,” you feel a slight tightening in your chest after realizing you didn’t even notice they had gone.
“Miss Y/n, let's take you to get looked at,” Junkook says while inching towards the office doors.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I have everything. Lead the way.” 
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You follow the bunny and wolf hybrid while still sandwiched between the tiger and jaguar. Walking through the halls, you gain some attention from the people you pass. 
You’re a mere human surrounded by some of the hottest Idols in the world right now. So why wouldn’t they?
Not willing to look up, you keep your eyes cast down to the feet in front of you as you try to avoid what you are a gazillion percent sure are looks of disgust and hate towards you.
Once the elevator doors open, the tiger lets out a low growl. Glancing up, you see two fellow PMS employees quickly scamper out of the elevator and down the hall. 
That added to the embarrassment for now and when you return to work.
Namjoon and Jungkook take the back corners. Looking at the men by your sides, they motion for you into the elevator next. 
However, when you go to stand in another corner, you are quickly ushered back into the middle with Yoongi and Taehyung in front of you. 
The energy calms down as the doors close. The four Alphas relax now that they surround you and will start taking care of you. 
Even if your trust in them starts with an injury, they know this is their chance to show you what it means to be taken care of, acknowledged as precious, and loved endlessly by the seven of them. 
As the doors part, you're greeted by the remaining packmates waiting for you, smiles warm and welcoming. They're surrounded by more men in black, whom you assume are bodyguards. 
Turning to look at you, Yoongi speaks for the first time since he entered Alpha Space,  “Take home. Keep safe.”
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