#21 laps entertainment
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demifiendrsa · 4 months ago
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Stranger Things 5 | On Set of The Final Season | Behind The Scenes
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tv-moments · 1 month ago
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The Perfect Couple
“She Would Never Do That”
Director: Susanne Bier
DoP: Roberto De Angelis, Shane Hurlbut
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marcovaleyeah · 2 months ago
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01.10.24
#Marco-Marathon | Deadpool
Film; Name: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024); Production Studios: Marvel Studios, 21 Laps Entertainment, New Zealand Film Commission, TSG Entertainment, Ontario Creates, 20th Century Studios, Maximum Effort, Québec Production Services Tax Credit, Creative BC; Director by: Shawn Levy; Screenwriter: Shawn Levy, Paul Wernick, Ryan Reynolds, Wendy Molyneux, Lizzie Molyneux-Logelin, Rhett Reese, Zeb Wells, Len Wein, John Romita Sr., Herb Trimpe, Roy Thomas, Frank Miller;
Starring: Ryan Reynolds, Hugh Jackman, Emma Corrin, Matthew Macfadyen, Morena Baccarin; Genres: Science-fiction, Action, Comedy, Adventure; Running Time: 2 hours 8 minutes;
"Deadpool & Wolverine" (2024) is a fun and chaotic superhero film that pairs Ryan Reynolds' Deadpool with Hugh Jackman's Wolverine. Directed by Shawn Levy, the movie blends sharp humor, wild action, and unexpected emotional depth. The chemistry between the two leads shines, with plenty of meta-jokes and multiverse madness. While the action and visuals are generally strong, some moments feel uneven. Still, it’s a highly entertaining experience.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐⭐
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dgspeaks · 4 months ago
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Deadpool and Wolverine: A Refreshing Take on the Merc with a Mouth and the Ol' Canucklehead
I went into Deadpool and Wolverine with a bit of skepticism. As someone who watched Deadpool 1 but didn’t particularly enjoy it, I decided to skip Deadpool 2. Given my lukewarm experience with the franchise, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to follow along or enjoy the latest installment. To my pleasant surprise, Deadpool and Wolverine turned out to be an exhilarating and thoroughly entertaining…
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garr9988 · 8 months ago
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See, the big thing I got from the original three Night at the Museum movies was that the qualities of the best night guard are compassion, empathy, intuition, and ingenuity. Larry was good at understanding and learning about the exhibits, what they wanted and how to make them happy, how to help them get along with each other.
Kahmunrah Rises Again completely ignores that and turns it into a generic vague issue of confidence and physical capability, with the extra Deus Ex Machina hail-Mary of being able to understand music & having a smart tablet on hand.
Going by the first three movies, if Nick needed to "prove himself" as a fit replacement for Larry, he should have been shown to be able to help exhibits, not "save the world" (even if that's what happened in the 2nd movie - funny how the stakes weren't even that high in the 3rd and originally final movie. It called out the Tablet's prophecy/warning being about the end of the magic, not the end of the world).
If they wanted to bring Kahmunrah back, Nick's best way to prove himself as a good if not better night guard would be to help redeem Kahmunrah and establish a positive relationship with his family and the rest of the exhibits!
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 4 months ago
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hey ley… 35 year old university professor (mommy) wanda goes to a strip club for her friends hen do and sees reader, her 21 year old student working there. wandas friends watch wanda watching reader dance for hours and decide to pay for her lap dance. how does this end up?
sorry if this isn’t explained right english isn’t my native language
Strip That Down
Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Stripper!fem!reader
Word Count: 5.6K
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Lap dance, strip club, fluff, angst, happy ending
A/N: This took on a life of it's own
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Wanda Maximoff, a university professor, found herself reluctantly at a strip club, all thanks to her friend's insistence on celebrating her bachelorette party in the most unconventional way possible. The loud music, flashing lights, and the wild atmosphere were far from her usual quiet and academic environment.
Her friends were having a blast, cheering and laughing, while Wanda sipped her drink, trying to blend into the background. That was until her eyes caught sight of one of the dancers stepping onto the stage. The dancer moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, but what really caught Wanda’s attention was the familiar face.
It was you, her student. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. You were mesmerizing, your movements fluid and enchanting. Wanda watched in awe, her mind racing with a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place.
Hours passed, but it felt like minutes. Wanda's friends, noticing her unwavering focus on you, began to whisper among themselves. They exchanged knowing glances and mischievous smiles.
"Hey, Wanda," one of them nudged her playfully, "You seem really interested in that dancer. Why don't we make this night even more unforgettable?"
Before Wanda could protest, they pooled their money and called over one of the staff members. Moments later, you were stepping off the stage and being guided toward a private room, where Wanda was already seated, her heart pounding in her chest.
You entered the room, your eyes widening slightly in recognition. “Professor Maximoff?” you asked, clearly surprised but maintaining your professional composure.
“Please, call me Wanda,” she replied, her voice a bit shaky.
You nodded, stepping closer, your movements still graceful and hypnotic. “Alright, Wanda. Let’s make this an experience you’ll never forget.”
As the music started, you began your dance, your eyes locked onto hers. The air was thick with tension, the boundaries of your usual professor-student relationship blurring with each passing second. Wanda’s friends watched from a distance, giggling and whispering, knowing they had given her a night she would remember for a long time.
As the music ended and the dance came to a close, you lingered for a moment, meeting Wanda's gaze with an intensity that left her breathless. The atmosphere in the private room was charged with an undeniable tension, and Wanda found herself at a loss for words.
"Thank you," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was...incredible."
You smiled, a hint of shyness now breaking through your confident demeanor. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Wanda."
There was an awkward pause, both of you unsure of how to proceed. The professional lines had been blurred, and it was difficult to revert back to your usual roles.
"Do you want to talk for a bit?" you offered, sensing her discomfort but also wanting to prolong this unexpected encounter.
Wanda nodded, grateful for the suggestion. "Yes, that would be nice."
You sat down next to her, the ambiance still buzzing with the aftermath of the dance. Wanda's friends had moved on to other entertainment, giving you both some privacy.
"I had no idea you worked here," Wanda began, trying to navigate the delicate conversation. "I mean, it's not something you'd normally share in class, but..."
You chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's definitely a part of my life I keep separate from my studies. It helps pay for school and other expenses."
Wanda nodded, appreciating your honesty. "I understand. It's just...I never expected to see you here."
"Likewise," you replied, your eyes meeting hers again. "But I have to admit, it's nice to see a familiar face, even in such an unexpected place."
The two of you talked for a while longer, the conversation flowing more easily as you shared stories and learned more about each other outside the confines of the classroom. Wanda was surprised at how comfortable she felt, the initial shock giving way to a genuine connection.
Eventually, you both realized it was getting late. Wanda's friends were starting to gather, signaling that it was time to head home.
"It was really nice talking to you, Wanda," you said, standing up and offering her a warm smile.
"Likewise," she replied, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "I hope to see you in class on Monday."
You nodded. "Definitely. And if you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me."
With that, Wanda rejoined her friends, who were eager to hear about her experience. As they left the club, Wanda couldn't help but reflect on the night's events, her thoughts lingering on you and the unexpected connection you had formed. She knew things might be different in class now, but she also felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing you again, both as her student and as someone who had made a lasting impression on her.
============
The week went by in a blur for Wanda. Lectures, meetings, and grading papers filled her days, but there was a constant undercurrent of distraction whenever she thought of you. In class, the air was thick with an unspoken tension. Every time your eyes met hers, a blush crept up Wanda's face, and she found it hard to concentrate on her usual authoritative demeanor.
By the time Friday arrived, Wanda's curiosity and the inexplicable pull she felt toward you had grown too strong to ignore. That evening, she found herself back at the strip club, her heart pounding with anticipation. She paid for a private dance again, but this time, her intentions were different.
As you stepped into the room and saw her, a warm smile spread across your face. "You want another dance, Professor?" you asked, your tone playful.
Wanda hesitated, then shook her head. "No...well, yes, but not right now. I just wanted to talk for a bit, if that's okay?"
You sat down next to her on the couch, giving her your full attention. "Of course, Wanda. We can talk about anything you want."
The conversation started off tentatively, but as the minutes passed, Wanda found herself opening up more. She talked about her week, the pressures of academia, and even some personal anecdotes she wouldn't normally share with a student. You listened intently, your presence calming and reassuring.
As the night wore on, Wanda felt a sense of contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time. Before she left, you reached into your bra, pulling out a sharpie. You always kept one on you. You took her arm, holding it against your chest as you wrote down your number on her hand.
"I don't want you to have to pay if you just want to talk, Professor. You can call me up and maybe we can talk over coffee and when I'm in normal clothes, okay?" you said, you looked up at her.
Wanda stared at her hand, her heart racing. "Y-yeah, we can do that...um, I know you're working late tonight, so maybe tomorrow afternoon?"
You smiled, nodding. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect. I'll look forward to it."
Wanda left the club that night with a flutter in her chest, clutching the piece of paper with your number like a lifeline. The boundaries she was crossing were clear, but the need to know more about you and the connection she felt was undeniable.
=================
Wanda arrived at the café a bit early, her nerves on edge. She chose a cozy corner table, away from the hustle and bustle, and ordered a cappuccino, hoping the warm drink would calm her jitters. The café had a quaint charm, with its mismatched furniture, local artwork on the walls, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. She glanced at the door every few minutes, her anticipation growing with each passing second.
Finally, you walked in, immediately spotting her in the corner. You looked different from the night before, dressed casually in jeans and a soft, navy-blue sweater, your hair down and free. Wanda felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over her as you approached.
"Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile.
"Hi," she replied, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. "Please, have a seat."
You sat down across from her, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence as you both took in the shift from your last meeting's setting.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Wanda asked, trying to ease the initial awkwardness.
"Sure, I'll have a latte," you replied, and she flagged down a barista to place the order.
"So," you started, leaning forward slightly, "how was the rest of your night after the club?"
Wanda chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was uneventful compared to the start. I went home, did some reading, and tried to process everything."
"Understandable," you said with a nod. "I can imagine it was a lot to take in."
The barista brought over your latte, and you both took a moment to sip your drinks, the initial awkwardness beginning to fade.
"What about you?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious. "How was the rest of your night?"
"Pretty typical," you said with a shrug. "Worked until closing, then headed home. Nothing as interesting as our encounter, though."
Wanda smiled, feeling more at ease. "It's still a bit surreal, seeing you here, outside of the club and the classroom."
"Yeah, it is," you agreed, your eyes meeting hers. "But I like it. It's nice to talk to you in a different setting."
The conversation began to flow more naturally. You talked about your studies, your interests, and the challenges of balancing work and school. Wanda found herself opening up more about her life as well, sharing stories from her university days and her experiences as a professor.
"So, what made you decide to become a professor?" you asked, genuinely interested.
Wanda smiled thoughtfully. "I've always loved literature and teaching. There's something incredibly rewarding about helping students discover their own passion for it. Plus, it keeps me constantly learning and growing."
"That's really inspiring," you said, your admiration evident. "I can see why you're such a great professor."
Wanda blushed at the compliment, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
The conversation took on a lighter tone as you both shared more personal anecdotes. Wanda found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, the tension and formality melting away.
"Do you have any hobbies outside of work and school?" Wanda asked, genuinely curious about your life beyond what she already knew.
"Well, I love dancing, obviously," you said with a grin. "But I also enjoy painting. It's a great way to relax and express myself."
"Really? I'd love to see some of your work sometime," Wanda said, intrigued.
"I'd like that," you replied, your smile widening. "What about you? Any hobbies?"
"I enjoy reading, of course, and gardening. There's something very therapeutic about taking care of plants," Wanda shared.
"I can see that," you said thoughtfully. "It sounds peaceful."
The afternoon flew by as you continued to talk, the initial nervousness long gone. There was a genuine connection between you, a chemistry that neither of you could deny.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the café windows, you realized how late it had gotten.
"I should probably get going," you said reluctantly. "I have a shift tonight."
Wanda nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Of course. Thank you for meeting me. This was... really nice."
"It was," you agreed, standing up and gathering your things. "Let's do it again sometime."
"Absolutely," Wanda said, standing up as well. "I'll call you soon."
You exchanged one last smile before parting ways, both of you feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for what lay ahead. The boundaries had been crossed, but what you had found was something real and promising, a connection that neither of you could ignore.
==========================
The weeks following your coffee shop date with Wanda were filled with subtle yet palpable tension. Each class was an exercise in restraint as you both tried to maintain a professional demeanor. Yet, every glance, every accidental touch, and every shared smile hinted at the underlying attraction that was growing stronger by the day.
One late afternoon, after most of the students had left, you found yourself lingering in the classroom, gathering your things. You needed to ask Wanda about an upcoming assignment, but the real reason you stayed behind was the undeniable urge to be close to her, even if just for a moment.
Wanda was at her desk, engrossed in grading papers. Her glasses perched on her nose, and a strand of hair fell across her face, which she absentmindedly pushed back. You approached her desk, your heart pounding.
"Professor Maximoff, could I ask you something about the assignment?" you asked, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.
Wanda looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face when she saw you. "Of course, what do you need help with?"
You leaned over her desk, pointing to your notes, but as you explained your question, Wanda's focus began to drift. Her eyes traced the curve of your jaw, the way your hair framed your face, and the subtle scent of your perfume. She found herself entranced, her mind clouded with thoughts she struggled to keep at bay.
You noticed her distraction and paused, your eyes meeting hers. "Professor?"
Wanda blinked, snapping back to reality. "Sorry, I... I got distracted."
Before you could respond, she reached out and took your hand, her grip firm but gentle. The electricity between you was undeniable, and as if drawn by an invisible force, Wanda leaned forward, closing the distance between you.
In a heartbeat, her lips were on yours, soft and insistent. The kiss was filled with a mixture of longing and relief, as if you both had been holding back for far too long. You responded eagerly, your free hand cupping her cheek as the kiss deepened.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Wanda's eyes were filled with a mix of fear and desire. "I know I'm your professor, but I can't stop thinking about you," she confessed, her voice trembling.
You searched her eyes, finding the same vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I can't either," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Wanda took a deep breath, her hand still holding yours. "This is complicated. We both know that. But... I don't want to fight it anymore."
You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "Neither do I."
The air between you was thick with unspoken promises and a shared understanding of the risks involved. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. What mattered was the connection you had, the feelings you shared, and the undeniable chemistry that had brought you to this point.
======================
A few weeks had passed since that night at Wanda's apartment. The warmth and comfort of those moments now seemed like a distant memory. The reality of your relationship's complications began to weigh heavily on both of you, and the excitement of secrecy was gradually replaced by the fear of discovery.
It all came to a head one Thursday afternoon. You had stayed after class to ask Wanda about an upcoming project, but the atmosphere was different. There was a tension in the air, an unspoken strain that neither of you could ignore.
Wanda looked up from her desk as you approached, her eyes tired and filled with something you couldn't quite place. "What do you need help with?" she asked, her voice lacking its usual warmth.
You hesitated, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "I wanted to discuss the project, but... is everything okay, Wanda?"
She sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing her temples. "Honestly? No, it's not. This... whatever this is between us, it's becoming too much. The hiding, the secrecy... I can't keep doing this."
Your heart sank. You had known this conversation was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. "I know it's hard, but we can figure it out. We just need to be careful."
"It's not just about being careful," Wanda said, her frustration evident. "I'm your professor. There's a power imbalance here, and if anyone finds out, it could ruin both our careers. I can't risk that. And I can't ask you to risk that either."
"But I don't care about the risks," you insisted, your voice breaking. "I care about you."
Wanda stood up, her expression conflicted. "I care about you too. More than I should. But that's exactly why we have to stop this. It's not fair to either of us."
You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "So, what are you saying? Are you ending this?"
"I don't want to," Wanda said, her voice softening. "But I think we have to. At least until the semester is over. Then maybe we can figure out where to go from there."
The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. You could see the pain in Wanda's eyes, mirroring your own. "I understand," you said quietly, fighting back tears. "But it doesn't make it any less painful."
Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted. But I think it's what's best for both of us right now."
You nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before letting go. "I should go," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll see you in class."
As you walked out of her office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. The once-bright future you had imagined with Wanda now seemed uncertain and distant. The days that followed were filled with a hollow ache, each class a reminder of what you had lost.
Wanda, too, felt the strain. Her lectures were more subdued, her smiles less frequent. The connection that had once brought you both so much joy now felt like a source of pain and regret.
Yet, amid the heartbreak, there was a glimmer of hope. The semester would eventually end, and with it, the constraints of your current roles. Until then, you both would have to navigate the difficult path ahead, holding onto the promise that perhaps, one day, things could be different.
====================
The days after Wanda broke things off were a blur of emptiness and despair. You found it increasingly difficult to muster the energy to attend classes, let alone participate. When you did manage to show up, your mind wandered, unable to focus on the lectures or assignments. Wanda's presence at the front of the classroom was a constant reminder of what you had lost, and it was unbearable.
Your grades began to slip, and the once-promising future you had envisioned seemed to crumble before your eyes. Your friends noticed the change in you, their concerned inquiries met with forced smiles and half-hearted reassurances. But the truth was, you were struggling to find a reason to keep going.
Your job at the club, once a place where you could escape and express yourself, became another source of frustration. Your boss, a stern but fair man named Tony, had been patient at first, giving you the benefit of the doubt. But as weeks passed and your performances grew lackluster, his patience wore thin.
One night, after another uninspired shift, Tony called you into his office. The room was dimly lit, the walls adorned with framed photos of past performances and performers. He sat behind his desk, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.
"Close the door," he said, his voice firm. You did as he asked, taking a seat across from him.
Tony leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What's going on with you? You've been off your game for weeks now. Customers are noticing, and it's starting to affect business."
You looked down at your hands, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, Tony. I've just been dealing with some personal stuff."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. Everyone goes through tough times. But you need to snap out of it. You're a great dancer, and I've seen what you can do when you're at your best. But right now, you're not even close."
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them away, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I just... I don't see the point anymore."
Tony's expression softened, and he leaned back in his chair. "Life's going to throw a lot of crap your way, kid. But you can't let it break you. You have to find something to hold onto, something that makes it worth pushing through."
His words hit home, and you realized that you had been letting your grief consume you. You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I'll try, Tony. I promise."
"That's all I'm asking," he said, offering a small, encouraging smile. "Take the weekend to clear your head. Come back Monday ready to give it your all."
You left his office feeling a mix of guilt and determination. The walk home was filled with a thousand thoughts racing through your mind, but one stood out above the rest: you needed to find a way to move forward.
Over the weekend, you forced yourself to confront your feelings head-on. You spent hours journaling, trying to make sense of the tangled emotions inside you. You reached out to friends, admitting that you were struggling and accepting their offers of support. Slowly, the fog of despair began to lift, and a sense of clarity emerged.
When Monday came, you walked into the club with a renewed sense of purpose. Tony gave you an approving nod as you prepared for your shift, and you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. The night went better than it had in weeks, and while it wasn't perfect, it was a step in the right direction.
In class, you made a conscious effort to engage, to focus on the material despite the pain of seeing Wanda. It wasn't easy, and there were moments when the hurt threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed through, determined to reclaim some semblance of normalcy.
Wanda noticed the change in you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. She knew how difficult it was for you, and she respected the strength it took to keep going.
==========================
The semester was drawing to a close, but the weight of everything felt heavier than ever. You had done your best to keep pushing forward, but the cumulative stress and heartbreak had finally reached a breaking point. That night, after another rough shift at the club, you found yourself standing outside Wanda's apartment, drenched from the pouring rain. Without thinking, you pounded on her door, the desperate need for comfort overriding any lingering hesitation.
When Wanda opened the door, her eyes widened in shock at the sight of you. Your makeup was smeared from tears and rain, your hair plastered to your face, and your stage outfit clung to your soaked skin. Without a word, she pulled you inside, the warmth of her apartment a stark contrast to the cold outside.
"Come here," she said gently, guiding you towards the bathroom. Her voice was soft, filled with concern, as she grabbed a towel and began to dry you off. "Let's get you out of these clothes."
You didn't resist as she helped you out of your wet stage outfit, her touch tender and careful. Wanda filled the tub with hot water, and you sank into it, drawing your knees to your chest. The heat enveloped you, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside.
Wanda rolled up her sleeves and took a cloth, dipping it in the water before gently washing your back. "What happened, sweetie?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.
Tears welled up again, and you struggled to find the words. "I just... I couldn't take it anymore. Everything feels so overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning."
Wanda continued to wash your back, her movements slow and soothing. "It's okay," she murmured. "You're safe here. Take your time."
You took a shaky breath, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's presence slowly starting to calm you. "I miss you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to move on, to focus on my classes and my job, but it's been so hard without you."
Wanda's hand paused for a moment before resuming its gentle strokes. "I miss you too," she confessed, her voice breaking slightly. "Every day has been a struggle, knowing that I hurt you and that we're both suffering because of this."
You turned your head to look at her, the vulnerability in her eyes mirroring your own. "I don't know what to do, Wanda. I feel so lost."
She put the cloth aside and leaned in, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her cheek resting against your wet hair. "We'll figure it out together," she said softly. "I don't have all the answers, but I know we can't keep going like this. Maybe we need to find a way to make this work, despite everything."
You closed your eyes, leaning into her embrace, the warmth of her body providing a comfort you had been desperately missing. "But how? The risks... they're still there."
"I know," Wanda replied, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But maybe we can find a way to manage them. We don't have to have all the answers right now. We just need to take it one step at a time."
You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. "I want that. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."
Wanda tightened her embrace, her lips brushing against your temple. "Then we'll find a way," she whispered. "We'll take it slow, be careful, and support each other. We don't have to face this alone."
The two of you stayed like that for a long time, the warmth of the bath and Wanda's comforting presence easing the pain that had been weighing on your heart.
After the bath, Wanda helped you into one of her shirts and a pair of soft shorts. The fabric was warm and comforting, carrying her familiar scent that enveloped you like a gentle hug. As you stood there, feeling the weight of the evening slowly lifting, Wanda led you to the living room.
She sat you down on the couch, then disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with two mugs of hot tea. Handing one to you, she settled beside you, her presence a reassuring anchor.
"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. The steam rising from the tea provided a soothing balm for your frazzled nerves.
Wanda smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this."
You took a sip of the tea, letting its warmth seep into you. "It's just been so hard. Everything feels like it's falling apart."
Wanda reached out, taking your hand in hers. "I know. I’m sorry that it had to be like this. It truly was the last thing I wanted."
Her words brought a lump to your throat. "It just feels like…I don’t even know…I’ve never felt like this before."
Wanda squeezed your hand gently. "Then we take it one day at a time. We support each other, and we figure it out as we go. It's not going to be easy, but I believe we can make it work."
You looked into her eyes, finding a strength there that you desperately needed. "I want to believe that too," you whispered. "I want to be with you, no matter what."
Wanda leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. "We'll get through this. I know we will darling."
The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the steady rhythm of your breaths synchronizing. The pain and uncertainty were still there, but they felt more manageable with Wanda by your side. 
You checked your phone looking at the time it was already three in the morning.
Eventually, she pulled away slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Why don't we watch something? Distract ourselves for a bit."
You nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"
Wanda smiled, reaching for the remote. "How about we start with an episode of Bob's Burgers? I did promise, after all."
You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine smile breaking through the lingering sadness. "I'd like that."
She turned on the TV, and as the familiar opening theme of Bob's Burgers filled the room, you shifted with her until you were laying on top of her, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in weeks. She pulled a blanket over the two of you.
As the episode played, you found yourself laughing along with the antics of the Belcher family. Wanda's arm around you and the warmth of her presence made everything feel a little bit better. The future was still uncertain, but in that moment, you knew you had someone who cared about you deeply, someone who was willing to face the challenges with you.
And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could get better. One step at a time, with Wanda by your side.
========================
One year later, your life looked completely different. The hardships and uncertainties of the past had given way to a future filled with promise and happiness. You and Wanda had navigated through the complexities of your relationship, emerging stronger and more connected than ever.
The apartment you shared was a cozy, vibrant space that reflected both of your personalities. The walls were adorned with a mix of Wanda's favorite vintage posters and your collection of quirky art. Plants thrived in every corner, adding a touch of nature to your urban sanctuary. The smell of fresh coffee and Wanda's homemade pastries often filled the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort.
It was a Saturday morning, and the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the living room. You were curled up on the couch, a stack of textbooks and notes spread out before you as you prepared for your final exams. Wanda was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast.
"How's the studying going?" Wanda called out, her voice cheerful and light.
You looked up from your notes, smiling. "It's going well. Just a few more chapters to review, and I think I'll be ready."
Wanda appeared in the doorway, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She set them down on the coffee table in front of you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "I know you'll do great. You've worked so hard."
"Thanks," you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I couldn't have done it without you."
She sat down beside you, her hand finding yours. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"
You nodded, squeezing her hand. "We really have. It's hard to believe how different things are now."
Wanda smiled, her eyes filled with love and pride. "I'm so proud of you. You're about to graduate, and you've accomplished so much. And I'm so happy we took a chance on us."
Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked at her. "Me too. I can't imagine my life without you."
=================
The months leading up to your graduation were a whirlwind of activity and excitement. Wanda was there every step of the way, supporting you through the stress of final exams and celebrating each milestone with you. You both balanced your lives between work, study, and nurturing your relationship, finding joy in the little moments you shared.
Graduation day arrived, and the sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Dressed in your cap and gown, you stood in the crowd of graduates, scanning the audience for Wanda. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, the cheers and applause seemed to fade into the background as you locked eyes with her, her smile brighter than ever.
After the ceremony, you found her waiting for you, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "Congratulations, graduate," she said, her voice choked with emotion.
You took the flowers, pulling her into a tight embrace. "We did it," you whispered, feeling tears of happiness welling up.
Wanda pulled back slightly, her hands cupping your face. "You did it. And I'm so incredibly proud of you."
The celebration continued into the evening, with friends and family joining you both for a party at your apartment. Laughter and music filled the air, and as the night wore on, you found yourself standing on the balcony with Wanda, the city lights twinkling below.
"It's been quite a journey," you said, leaning against the railing, Wanda's arms wrapped around you from behind.
"It has," she agreed, resting her chin on your shoulder. "And it's just the beginning. We have so much ahead of us."
You turned to face her, your eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I can't wait to see what the future holds, as long as I'm with you."
Wanda smiled, her eyes shining with the same love and commitment. "Me too. Here's to our future, together."
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chericherrybaby · 7 months ago
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I’LL PICK YOU UP ON THE WAY HOME
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Summary, Jealous ex-boyfriend, Harry picks you up from a party after a last choice call was made from you.
Warnings, Jealous Harry?
This is so many words and not much dialogue. Enjoy the first of many!!
Harry was an ex you hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.
He was someone you had loved very much at the time, he was just a little bit too protective over you at the time, which is not what you had wanted as a 21 year old girl who’s friends loved a party.
You had never ridded his contact of your phone, it felt strange since he had been the first number to go in it after you had gotten it with him. Plus, he had never done anything wrong and you felt slightly bad for ending things the way you did.
You hadn’t been together that long at the time, you had told yourself hundreds of times, trying to rid the guilt you had whenever one of your girlfriends would tell you how miserable he was.
It was terrible that one of your girlfriends was dating his best friend, and you were a main source of topic for their entertainment.
You had thought about calling him as soon as your date had pulled up to the house, you could hear the music booming atleast 4 streets away and the place looked crammed with 17 year olds, a weird place for a 25 year old to take you on a first date.
He had led you inside the house, letting you follow his heels, greeting almost everyone that was in his path.
Your first red flag was a girl coming up to your date, who was unfortunately named Chad, you’d heard it all from your girlfriends already, and him hugging her with his hands a bit too close to somewhere they shouldn’t be.
This had made you pull your phone out, scroll down to the very bottom of your contacts and send a quick message to someone who may not even answer you, you’d been so lucky he hadn’t blocked you already and you were so grateful.
You sent a quick “hey” and hoped the recipient didn’t hate you as much as you hated yourself for texting him.
About an hour later, the party felt a bit dull compared to when you had arrived, everyone feeling lulled on the couch from everything they had drank, smoked and consumed in many other ways.
Including your date.
You had never been happier to feel your phone ringing in your back pocket and feel the excitement yet dread when your screen read “Harry Styles”
“Hello” you said sounding a little ashamed, making your way to sit on the front porch away from the booming music and the yelling of party goers who were still feeling their high.
“Hey” he replied sounding a little too groggy for you liking, like he’d woken and immediately called you “Why’d you text me? Thought you wanted nothing to do with me”
You felt your heart pang a little at this, but you could feel the hurt in his voice also “I’m at a party with a bunch of high schoolers. I need an escape”
“Gonna need more than that to get me going Y/N” he’d never sounded so irritated to you, but you also understood. The first time you’d texted him in almost two years was for an excuse to leave a party.
“Please come get me, i’ve basically been ditched and none of the girls know i’m here” You sighed feeling so ashamed you were doing this”
Harry ended the call. You waited, hoping he was still the sweet boy you had met 5 years ago.
10 minutes later, Harry’s car pulled up outside of the house. You jumped to your feet, jogged over to the car and placed yourself in his passenger seat
“Thank you so much Harry” you looked at him, your eyes pleading for his to meet yours.
He hummed in acknowledgment.
You sat in silence for 5 minutes while Harry drove in the direction opposite of your apartment, He came to a stop when he came to a quieter road with houses all using dimmed lights. He turned the car off and placed his hands in his lap.
“What are we-”
“Why have you done this to me Y/N? You know i’m still so utterly in love with you. So you text me at 11pm a shitty message saying ‘hey’”
“In my defence you’re the one who called me, you could’ve ignored my message and blocked me, you can’t blame me for your lack of self control”
You heard harry chuckle quietly to himself, that’s when you realised you’d said something that maybe you shouldn’t have.
“What are you even doing at a party full of children, you’re 23 Y/N” Harry finally looked at your face, your red cheeks prominent and wasted makeup.
His heart broke knowing after he dropped you home, you were gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I was supposed to be on a first date, but instead he drove us to a high schoolers party. Basically touched up a girl right infront of my face, then got pissed and probably even high while letting me fend for myself when these are people he knows”
Harry slightly laughs to himself, but tires to cover it up by slapping his hand over his mouth. “You sure know how to pick ‘em”
“Picked you. You’re alright” You remarked back and Harry’s head quickly snapped back up to you and slightly glared at you “Sorry, that was really mean”
“I really fucking hate when you go on dates, y’know. Makes me so cross knowing ‘yer going out with all these shit guys when i’m right infront of you”
It’s like he was on his knees begging, pleading for you to love him. Tearing his heart out of his chest ready to give to you.
“You’ve always been such a jealous prick” You smirked at him and he couldn’t help his lips curling up into a smile.
“Hard not to be, look at you. You’re insane and i had my chance and fucked it with you, Cause i was scared to lose something i wanted forever”
You sighed and reached over to place your hand on top of his, he flinched away slightly. You curled your fingers around his hand and held it tightly.
“I love you” You admitted shamefully “It never went anywhere and i think i may just be slightly ashamed that i ended something so good just for what? To get drunk and dance around at a party full of strangers. When i had you waiting for me with open arms no matter the time i came back”
Harry shifted in his seat and moved towards the centre console of his car, you kicked your shoes off and sat cross legged on his passenger seat. Turning towards him, being able to see his face fully.
“You infuriate me, you know that don’t you” He says moving closer, close enough you could feel his breath of your face.
Swearing you could heart his heart beating out of his chest.
“Can you please” You thought for a second, were you making the right decision? Telling him you wanted him all over again, when you feared you may be slightly high from all the fumes in that house party.
Harry hummed gently “What would you like, Angel? Anything for you. I swear” His eyes flicked down towards your lips but quickly returned to your eyes.
“Kiss me” you practically begged him.
His lips crashed onto yours, his hands finding your jaw and cupping your cheeks while you sat in, what felt like an isolated area.
Kissing a man that you thought was just madly possessive over you, instead he just wanted the world for you, and you were the world to him.
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comatosebunny09 · 11 months ago
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Sleeping together is normal.
You’ve shared beds before like this. Slept beneath the stars with nothing but rubble at your feet, and itchy grass at your backs. But tonight is unlike any other night you’ve spent together. It feels different. As if the air is charged with electricity and something heady in between.
In the back of your tangled mind, you knew admitting your secret desires over a harmless game of 21 Questions would pique his interest. Hells, you had prayed it would. Maybe tonight would be the night that he held you a little tighter, kissed that sensitive spot behind your ear, and acted on the subtle hints he tossed your way.
You can dream.
The silence that stretches between you is unnerving.
Your heart pounds in your ears, your fingers aching with the need to touch. Your sleepiness has faded into the background, replaced by anxiety welling in your gut. It would take nothing to lean up onto your elbows, conquer the space between your mouths, and just—
Ugh! What if you’ve misread the room? What if he only sees you as a friend?
Through the dimness blanketing the room, Astarion’s gaze searches through yours. A beautiful maelstrom of emotions swimming beneath them, looking for something. An indication of discomfort. A plea for him to stay. A silent demand for him to piss off. Anything. He doesn’t press, though his head screams for him to weasel a confession out of you.
When you do not speak, a wistful smile rounds Astarion’s lips. Your silence serves as his answer. He lifts himself from your bedside, turning away towards the entryway. Offers a somber goodnight, darling over his shoulder, but—
Your hand encircling his wrist halts his retreat. He’s wide-eyed when he looks back at you, his voice corked in his throat. You tug again, your gaze averted, and the warmth of bashfulness explodes like solar flares beneath your skin.
Look at you, acting all shy as if he hasn’t seen you bleed.
Astarion moves on autopilot, kneeling again beside you, enraptured by your touch. His mouth quivers with a question; brows furrowed with compassion.
Say the word. Say it. Just—
You beat him to the punch. Release his hand, mournful of the loss of his cool veins dancing beneath your fingertips. You peer down at the wrinkled comforter, fiddling with some frayed threads at its corner. Your saliva scorches your throat as you swallow thickly, willing your vocal cords to work.
“You know I’m afraid of the dark,” you rumble, voice rivaled by the soft wind outside.
It isn’t a complete lie. You’ve always squeezed Astarion a little tighter when the candlelight dwindled—curled up into his side with the blanket pulled over your head, succumbing to the security he provided, fearful of the things that went bump in the night. Like he didn’t once live amongst them. 
It clicks in his mind like the hammer of a revolver slamming forward. He tastes the subtle undercurrents of your timbre. Feels relief coating his rib cage at your plea for his company.
Stay.
Astarion snorts. Smiles, something boyish and genuine, the bulk of his hand swallowing up your wrist. He draws your gaze to him, his teeth shining through the muted light.
“Is that your way of asking me to stay?”
His tone is disarming. Causes your shoulders to drop from your ears and your jaws to unclench. A smirk cants the corner of your lips. Though adrenaline flows through your extremities like liquid fire, you entertain his cheekiness.
“Maybe.”
He peels back the comforter before you can react. The bed croaks beneath his weight, and you shimmy towards the wall to allow him space. Your feet brush, the sensation setting your nerves alight. In your peripheral, Astarion grins. A lithe mass of sinewy muscle and protectiveness looming on the opposite side of the bed.
He makes no move to do anything further. Always a gentleman despite your bodies crying out for each other. Despite his fingers twitching in his lap, and the longing coloring your eyes.
Just…fucking touch me already.
Time eases by like this. Astarion beside you, recounting old memories from adventures long ago. And you both laugh a little. Gradually scoot closer until the moon sits high in the sky, and exhaustion clings to the bags beneath your eyes. You use that as an excuse to snuggle up to him. Though you rarely need a reason to. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer, and the comforter up to your chin. He makes you feel safe. He always does. Always has.
Without thinking, you twine your fingers together. Test the waters, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort. When he doesn’t say anything, you’re emboldened to bring his hand to your lips and you kiss his knuckles. He stiffens, breath hitches, mouth hangs slightly open. Gradually relaxes little by little. Looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s ready to dive off that cliff with you if you’ll allow him to. You try again, your lashes fluttering. The wine’s long settled in your system. It’s all instinct urging you forward now.
He brings your hand to his mouth to pay the same homage. And then he’s kissing up your wrist, forearm, further still…can’t help himself, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Lids shutter while his lips seal to yours in a kiss. Slow at first. Gentle because he doesn’t want to scare you off. But he’s waited so long for this. You both have. So pardon him for being a little overzealous. A little swept up in the moment.
You pull away, intoxicated by his earthy scent and the plushness of his lips. Study him, drunk off the feel of him and the soft breaths fanning across your skin.
You kiss again. A little more confident this time. A little more eager. He cups your jaw. Drags you down onto the bed beneath him, mouth slanting possessively over yours, fangs gnashing against your teeth. It’s like a dream. Your hair puddles around you on the pillow. You’re holding his palms to your cheeks, brows pinched, afraid that if he lets go, the dream will shatter. But you’re not dreaming this time. The hoarse, agonized groan he pushes between your lips is proof of it.
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highvern · 9 months ago
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Patterns I
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader
Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst
Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?
Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex
Length: ~10k
Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
m.list + support my work
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”
Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.
The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?
You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.
Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!
“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 
Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.
You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.
“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”
Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 
Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.
“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.
Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”
“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”
You snort in response. 
Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 
“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”
“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”
Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”
The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 
Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.
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In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.
Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.
It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.
The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 
A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 
Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.
The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.
Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 
Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 
This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.
It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.
You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.
After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 
Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 
Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 
And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.
But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.
Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.
“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.
The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.
Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 
Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 
It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.
If he wants to play, you’ll play too.
“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 
Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.
God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.
“Not convincing enough,” you chide.
The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 
Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 
You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.
This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 
He wants you.
You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.
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The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.
He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 
“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.
“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 
But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 
Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.
Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.
Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 
But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.
“What do you want?”
You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 
“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.
You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 
“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”
His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.
“Kiss me.”
You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.
Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.
Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.
Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 
The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.
Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.
“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 
He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.
None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 
But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.
Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.
“Please.”
The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.
Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 
The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.
He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 
A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 
You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.
He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.
You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 
But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 
There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.
Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.
Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 
He’ll probably like it, you think.
You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.
You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.
“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 
One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 
“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.
“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.
You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 
Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.
“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.
You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.
Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.
“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 
“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 
Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.
“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 
He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 
“Right, Y/N?”
The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.
Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.
Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.
“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.
“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 
“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.
You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.
Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.
He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 
“Shit,” you curse.
Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”
“Soooo good.” 
Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 
Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.
“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”
His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 
Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.
 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”
His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 
Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 
His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.
“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”
The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.
You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 
“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.
You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.
Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.
Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 
After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.
Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.
Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 
There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.
Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.
Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.
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The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.
You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.
As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 
“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 
Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.
“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.
When did the window get above your bed? 
You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.
“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.
Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.
It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.
Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 
The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.
“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.
“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.
Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.
“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.
“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.
“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 
Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 
Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.
“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.
“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”
And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.
It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 
Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.
You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 
And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 
Shit.
“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.
There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.
“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.
Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.
One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.
Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 
He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.
You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 
The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 
It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.
“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.
The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.
The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 
As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 
Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.
You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.
Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.
You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.
Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.
After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  
The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.
Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 
You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.
The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.
The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.
Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.
Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.
Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 
You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 
Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.
Opinion: He’s still infuriating.
Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.
Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.
Fact: You won’t do it again.
Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.
She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 
Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.
A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.
“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.
“Don’t feel good.”
“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”
You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 
“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.
Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 
“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”
“You don’t?” 
“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 
She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”
You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.
Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 
“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”
“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”
“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”
Amina hums. Silence falling between you.
“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.
Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 
Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.
“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 
She leaves with out another word.
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Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 
The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.
If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.
But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 
Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.
He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.
Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 
Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.
From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 
Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.
Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 
To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 
Worth it, he thinks 
The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.
Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.
And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.
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justwinginglife · 3 months ago
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Can I please request Soshiro's gf being nice to Weapon 10 because it saved Soshiros life and 10 start liking her, so now they are in a really weird and funny three way relantionship?
Game Night
You never thought you'd be playing 21 questions with your boyfriend and a kaiju, let alone the kaiju that had first tried to kill your boyfriend and then somehow saved your boyfriend's life. But there you were, crisscrossed on Soshiro's carpet, leaning against his couch, sipping at your water, with your feet resting in his lap, waiting for your next question.
“I don’t want to ask her that. No- you’re the idiot. Why would you ask something like that? I’m not saying it.”
You raise an eyebrow at Soshiro. “Oh come now. You can’t just leave me in suspense like this.”
He flushes red, his cheeks matching his suit. “I don’t… I can't… I’m not gonna tell you what he wants to know.”
You lean forward, your hand reaching out for his, as your cleavage makes a full appearance. And you know he’s getting a good, long look because you know your boyfriend better than anyone.
He gulps.
“Come on, baby. Just tell me. What’s he wanna know? I’ll tell you anything.”
Soshiro bites his lip. “He… wants to know… what your favorite position is.” He exhales, sounding exhausted.
You get on your knees and crawl over to him, pushing him down on the ground. Then you straddle him and lean down to whisper in his ear, “This one. This one’s my favorite.”
He exhales, trying to steady his breathing. You can tell he wants to look away, wants to resist, but he doesn't. His eyes trail down to your lips.
You smirk and sit back up, pulling away from him. He groans, disappointed. He reaches for you but you lightly slap his hand away, tsking at him.
He sits back up, sighing. "Fine, it's your turn. Ask a question."
You run your hand up his tail and the motion elicits a shiver, though you're not sure if the reaction belongs to 10 or Soshiro. "10. This one's for you. Do you ever wish Soshiro would wear the suit while we're getting it on?"
Soshiro coughs and then, after listening for a few seconds, his eyes widen and the redness in his cheeks deepens. "I'm not answering for him." He grumbles, looking away from you.
You laugh. "You don't have to. That's a yes."
You run your hand down his plated chest. He groans and leans into your touch. You still haven't figured out if him and 10 are both feeling the same sensations at the same time, or if it's 10 when you're touching the armor and Soshiro when you're touching his skin. But you love to tease them both anyway, so you continue.
"10. Dear. You know I appreciate you saving Soshiro. You're such a sweetheart for that." You purr. "But," You poke Soshiro in the nose, "Sexy time is just for the two of us."
Soshiro sighs, relieved. "Yeah. You heard the woman. It's just the two of us, stay out of it."
His tail shoots out and stabs the ground. He must be pouting, you think to yourself, amused.
"Hey! I'm never going to get my deposit back, you little shit!"
You lean back, entertained by the sight of what looks like Soshiro scolding himself, but you know 10 must be sulking somewhere inside his head.
"Alright love, it's your turn to ask me a question."
Soshiro turns back to you, remembering you're still here, waiting for him. His face softens for a moment before contorting back into a scowl. "No, no. Don't think she's saved you. We will talk about this later. You are in a lot of trouble. Now shut up and let me talk to my girlfriend, asshole."
You bite back a laugh as you wait for Soshiro's question. It never comes. It appears 10 is still arguing with Soshiro, because he's still glaring at the air. You decide to help him out. You lean forward and press a kiss to his chest plate. "10, be a good boy and wait your turn, okay? It's Soshiro's turn now. Please let him talk."
Your words work wonders because Soshiro exhales, relieved to have a little silence for once. If he's honest with himself, he's a little bitter that he has to beg 10 to listen to him but he listens to you in a heartbeat. But he'd never admit that to you.
Soshiro takes a deep breath. "Okay. Be honest, now. How long did you have feelings for me before we started dating?"
"Oh that's easy. Since I first laid eyes on you. I knew I was gonna make you mine the second I saw that compression shirt."
He rolls his eyes but then laughs. "So you just wanted me for my body?"
"Hey- that's two questions. You don't get two in a row. But, no, of course I didn't just want you for your body. Though it does help." You wink at him and lick your lips.
He blushes again. He seems to be doing that a lot today. You wonder if you should check him for a fever. You'll forever go down in history as the woman who killed the Vice Captain of the Third Division with your incessant teasing.
"Y-your turn." He stammers, not meeting your gaze.
You smirk. "What's your take on pineapple on pizza?"
He scoffs, looking directly at you now. "10 gets a question about sex and I get the pizza question? What is happening right now?"
You shrug. "Hey, I get to pick the questions. That's my question. And honestly, it could make or break our relationship so answer carefully."
He facepalms. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear. Fucking pizza question."
You're not supposed to be able to hear 10 but at this moment, you swear you can hear him cackling. Your thoughts are confirmed when Soshiro blurts out, "Oh shut the fuck up 10, you're not wanted in this conversation."
This night just keeps getting better and better, you think to yourself as you cover your mouth with your hand to keep from giggling. At first, this was going to be a drinking game, but now you knew alcohol wasn't necessary. You were fully sober and still fully entertained. In fact, as you watch Soshiro seriously contemplate the pineapple on pizza debate, you think to yourself that this might've been the best idea you've ever had in your entire life. You wonder if he'll lie just to give you an answer you like. You wonder what answer he thinks you want from him. It amuses you to no end watching him struggle.
"It's no good. Can't be done. Pineapple just doesn't belong on pizza, that's my final answer." He peers at you curiously, as though seeking confirmation that he answered correctly.
"Oh Soshiro."
He starts to droop a little, thinking he picked wrong.
"I fucking hate pineapple on pizza. Glad we're in agreement, love."
He sits up straighter, and though you know the tail belongs to 10, you swear Soshiro is the one wagging it now.
You always thought he was cute before, but the cuteness factor was emphasized in the suit. You'd never say it out loud though, 10 would take full credit for it and then he'd never let Soshiro get a moment's peace if he knew.
You're unsure if it's Soshiro or 10 that finally proposes bringing drinks into the mix, and though you don't think you need them to have a good time, you oblige. You just like watching as Soshiro mixes the drinks. He could have been a bartender in another life and you would have visited that bar every damn day just to see the way he put drinks together. Those hands of his could do everything, you were a testament to that.
As you sip your beautifully made drink and watch the two of them go another round at arguing, you wonder again how you got yourself into such a preposterous situation, but then you think to yourself- Hey, at least I'll never be bored.
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reveriebae · 3 months ago
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How it tastes like
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pairing(s) : Roommate! Song Mingi x Fic writer! reader
word count : 2912
genre : smut
synopsis : when your roommate wanna check what's make you stressed out from writing end up to an unexpected tasting experience.
warning(s) : afab! reader, oral (m & f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no protection (please use in rl!), cumplay. Lmk if I missed something.
Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!
🪐smut under the cut🪐
A loud sigh escaping from your lips, your room is dark but the screen from the laptop in front of you lights up your face and some spot behind you which is the headboard of your bed.
"Fuck this is so hard, what the hell am I gonna type" you muttered.
Being a writer is fun, actually really fun, but there's a time where you can't think any word and stressed out when people who read your fics give you a bunch of requests but they doesn't give you any plot idea or something that could boost your writing mood, especially when it comes to something you never even experience but you really want to write about that thing. You don't have to be a full experienced person to write stories, but sometimes to make your story feels alive and entertaining you gotta know the details about the thing that will be the main 'thing' for the whole story.
It's about blowjob in this case, as a smut fanfic writer it's really stressed you out when you realized how powerful and amazing your imagination are but the lack of experience you have is sometimes become a barricade for you to explain every detail of it, it's making you feel exhausted and confused and of course losing your interest to write, but the image of finish your writing that satisfied your imagination feels so so good.
"Hey, Y/N are you still awake?" Your roommate said after knock your bedroom door.
"Yeah, why?" The door cracks open, showing Mingi on the door frame peeks inside your room while all he could see is just a dark room with a small light from the laptop screen.
"Are you serious? Still writing at this fucking hour? Y/N please look at the time..you gotta rest, you gotta work, you have a class tomorrow and you gonna blind yourself if you keep writing in the dark dumbass".
"Shut the fuck up, you always say that I have to find some hobby to not stressed out from my-".
"Hobby do not supposed to make you feel stressed Y/N.. don't get me wrong, can I go in?" you nod and he turn on the light switch of your bedroom, he sits beside you on the bed.
You hurried to close the laptop cause everyone knew you are a writer but no one knows what in the hell your writings are about. Mingi frowns and his face is all confused.
"I was about to help Y/N, don't be such an ass".
"No no, you don't have to Mingi, I... I feel tired, I'm gonna slee-" he grab your laptop in one hand and his other hand grips both of your hand, you gasp as you tried to get off of his hand but you can't match his power.
"Nah you're not gonna fool me this time, come on let me help. You gotta remember your family is not even here, if you sick I'm gonna be the one who got to and will to take care of you".
"But Mingi, that's not the problem..".
"Just tell me what story are you writing right now? Is it romance?" You shook you head.
"Fantasy?action?" Nuh-uh.
"You do horror??".
"No you dumb, I am a smut writer" your face flushed it's now all red and hot from the embarrassment, but his face remained still.
"What is smut? A killer documentary? World secret? Conspiracy theory?" You stare at him in disbelief.
"It's.. it's some kind of... Porn" You stutter as he still grips you hand and your laptop is on his lap. Your faced get hotter when he just laughed in front of your face.
"You? Write a porn? That's amazing actually, despite you interact with guy is a rare view that so cool that you could write that such a thing, so what makes you stressed lately?" He lets out your hand to give you a small clap with smile that you want to wipe of his face, cause you're literally suffering while he unexpectedly support you when he knew you wrote filth all this time.
"You won't help me at all Mingi, just go.." you let out a deep breath, can't seem to look at his eyes.
"You're just unsure of the things that you want to write, because I know you are inexperienced. Now tell me, what makes you stressed?" He ends up rubbing your knuckles softly, wants to make you sure that you're safe with him, wants to make you sure that he cares about you in every way.
"Shut the fuck up Mingi, I said you won't help me".
"You are the one who's gonna shut the fuck up and tell me now" he grumbled he lets your hand then lift up your chin to make you look at his eyes.
"Blowjob, it's blowjob!" Your face might be directed to him but you shut your eyes closed.
"Wasn't so hard was it? Tell me more of your curiosity about blowjob".
You have no choice but to explain to him, it's overshoot. "I- I know blowjob is sucking- you know..dick, I have read those blowjobs scene from a lot of different writers but I'm not sure if I can write about that cause I don't know what to write for the details, I always thought of 'what if I make a mistake?' 'what if my readers mock me because of my writings?' 'what if they call me an inexperienced smut writer?' I got so many 'what if' in my head Mingi and I know you could barely help me, beside this is so embarrassing to talk about this with you cause you're literally a dude".
"That's the point, I'm a dude and that's why I said let me help you. All you gotta do is just ask" Your mind wandered into something you shouldn't thought about, the word 'All you gotta do is just ask' is so ambiguous, is he telling you to ask a question or ask him to do something? You decided to give up and receive the help Mingi gave you.
"So..how a cum tastes like?" You ask bluntly makes him chuckles under his breath.
"I never taste my own cum Y/N" you frown and slap his shoulder make him hissed.
"Fuck off Mingi, you told me you gonna help me!".
"I was Y/N, but I really never taste my own cum so I really don't know" he laughed while blocking your hands that's about to puch his chest. "But you can taste it yourself, if you want to" he smirks after finish his laughter.
"Mingi..you did not..".
"I'm just tryna help, if you want to let's do it..the blowjob, once again if you want to. But if you don't I'll be back to my room right now " You thought he's just playing with you but when you gather your courage to look at his face, he's serious about it.
"But that would be so weird.." he shakes his head at your words "isn't it?".
"No if you would trust me as much as I trusted you, you gotta remember that you are the one who need this Y/N, I'm just trying to help" His hands wraps around your shoulders, make you hold a shiver that could run down your body. "Do you want to?" His eyes drilling holes into your soul, you could only nod at him and smile plastered his face.
"So..w-what should I do?" You look back at your lap, you're so embarrassed right now you can't even think straight.
"My eyes are right here love, now help me to remove my pants" he lifts your chin up again, and now your hands begin trailing his sweatpants as he move his hips up to make you remove the pants easier.
Now he's half naked, in front of you, on your bed and the night dress you are wearing is slutty enough for the man's view.
"Show me what you learned from those smuts you read love" You start to touch his dick, hold and experimentally stroke his dick. You could hear his breath hitched, it gains confident in you so you stroke it a bit faster makes him lets out a moan, you could feel yourself started getting wet.
"Good love, now try to use your mouth" You wet your lips then stick your tongue to lick on his shaft then roll your tongue on the head. A salty liquid appears you guess that is what's called a precum, you open your mouth and try to take his cock inside, take a look at Mingi make you moan at how good he looks right now. His head falls back to the headboard while his mouth wide open, the sweats rising on his forehead and chest going up and down at how hard he is breathing, when you taste the salty precum of his your moan send a vibration right into his dick then his right hand suddenly have a nice grip on your hair as he starts moving your head up and down his cock.
The more he moves your head the faster it become and deeper it gets down your throat, when you swallow your saliva that collected inside your mouth, his moan became louder then you do it repeatedly. His not gonna last and you know it, you could feel his cock pulsing against your lips then you could taste a really bitter liquid spurts out of his dick, he calls your name on repeat then you bob your head on his dick for about 4 times before you pull out.
When you watch porn or read smut, it looks so easy to swallow the cum but you can't seem to swallow it, Mingi noticed your panicked expression then quickly open your drawer to take 2 sheets of tissues then hold the tissue on his hand and put it near your lips "Sorry love, spit it out don't worry" instead of spit his cum out of your mouth, you stick out your tongue while look at him to give him a nice view of his cum trickle down your tongue and land on the tissue on his hands.
"Fuck you look so beautiful doing that, so pretty for me, so messy with my cum like that love" when his cum is all out of your mouth Mingi throw the tissue to the trash bin and hand you a glass of water. "Your throat might feel a bit rough, you gotta drink a lot " you nod as you do what he tells, you could still feel the taste of his cum washed by the water and crashing down your throat.
"Mingi..uhm, I think you caused me another problem" you cleared your throat then Mingi eyes went wide he thought he hurted you or something.
"What? Are you okay? Am I hurting your throat? Too big for your lips it hurts?" He ramble then you close his mouth with your index finger to shut him up.
"No, it's just.. I need you to..".
"To what? You want another glass of water? Or do you want a candy? Yeah? I have some in my room wait a seco-".
"I need to you fuck me Mingi! You moaned a lot when I suck you, you..make me kinda wet".
"Oh..you sure?" Mingi blinks multiple times when you finally stand up and kissed him, the kiss is slow and passionate, his hands begins to roams all over your body as you gasp onto his mouth.He lays you in your bed, pull up your night dress to reveal you are not wearing anything but only your panties inside the dress. "So beautiful for me love, bet you gonna touch yourself while imagine about me tonight if we don't fuck" he lowers himself until he's between your legs then he removes your panties in no time.
"I actually did, sometimes" he looks at your face at the words, he grips your thighs so hard you let out a hiss.
"You are really driving me insane my love, do you also write smut about me?" He opens your legs wide and place his face right in front of your bare pussy then blow on it, the action make you whimper above him. "I hope you could take a look at how wet you are love, eager for me to ruin your pretty little pussy, don't you?" He trails kisses on you inner thigh.
"Please Mingi..don't keep me waiting" you mewl then smile to him when he looks at your face, pushing his middle finger into your wet cunt make you gasp as he trusts it slowly inside you.
"You're not ready to take me yet my love, I gotta prepare you first" he trusts his finger faster and when you start to moan loudly he pull his finger out of you and lick them clean. "So sweet for me" you whimper at his action.
"Don't you wanna eat me out Mingi? Please do" smirk plastered on his face when you say the word, he lifts your legs until they touched your chest then he devour you immediately. Your eyes rolling back and your hand automatically get a grip on Mingi's hair as he growls into your pussy. He inserts his middle and ring fingers into your cunt then curling it up while his tongue doing a kitten lick on your clit, a fast kitten lick on your clit. "Fuck Mingi.. don't stop-mmh gonna..gonna cum" His index finger joins the other two fingers and he suck your clit make you scream as you cum so hard your body spasming and Mingi holds your hips down.
"Just like that love, let it out for me" he trails kisses on you cheeks and jawline until you stop shaking under him.He peels off his shirt then rubbing his cock on your clit, you let out whimpers because of the sensitivity "And from now on..fuck with me will be your new hobby, my dick is gonna be your fucking hobby" with that he enters himself inside you in one hard trust make you scream so loud. "Oh shoot, it hurts? Sorry, I'll pull it ou-".
"No please, just keep going" you breathed while holding into his arms, he nods at you then starts to move slowly. When your moans become louder he sped up his movement, "ah- fuck you feel so good Mingi, so big.." you moan uncontrollably.
"Yeah, you take me really well Y/N my love" his words sounds so sweet with the soft deep voice he lets out, but his grip on your waist and the way he's pistoning his hips so hard your tears start to gather at the corner of your eyes.
"Faster Mingi! Please make me cum please please fuckkk" Your eyes closed, whimpers and rambling flow out of your lips. You can hear his whisper, definitely sounds like he's begging you to cum. His movement become faster and faster, you lose it when he moves one of his hand and rubs your clit with two fingers that you assume it's his index and middle finger.
"Yes love..yes, fuck you are so so tight, so good for me, you are amazing baby" you cum for the second time, your legs feels like giving up but Mingi still thrust himself into you. "God.. I'll fucking give you what you want, I'll make you taste what you wanna fucking taste" it doesn't take him so long to cum inside you with sharp thrust that make you let out a choked moan. He pulled out make you whimper then go down on you to suck his cum out of your cunt.
"W-wait Mingi! What are you doing?!" You look down but he pays you no mind, when he finishes whatever he's doing he hovers over you and then give you an open mouthed kiss, your eyes open wide when you could taste a salty liquid over your tongue, when Mingi fills your mouth with all his cum he pulls off from the kiss then spit right into your tongue, he is doing a fucking cumplay and you know that.
"Now swallow it love, I know you can do it" You don't wanna swallow it, but the moment when Mingi spit into your mouth and the fact that your cum, his cum, your spit and his spit are mixed together make your head dizzy in a good way then you swallow it unwittingly and without hesitation, you show your tongue to him to proof that you have swallow all of it, his smirk grows. "You do really good for me love" he's keeping you in his embrace for a good half an hour. When he feels you dozed off, he give a light pat on your cheek you wake you up. "Don't sleep yet my love, we gotta clean you up first".
"I'm feel so tired Mingi, let me sleep" He lifts you up into his arms instead, but it's not like you're complaining tho. He takes you to your bathroom then put you inside the tub after he fills it with warm water.
He stokes your hair make you dozed off again, he giggles at the sight.
"What are you going to do without me, my love".
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demifiendrsa · 21 days ago
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youtube
Stranger Things 5 | Title Tease
Season 5 episode titles:
“The Crawl”
“The Vanishing of _____”
“The Turnbow Trap”
“Sorcerer”
“Shock Jock”
“Escape From Camazotz”
“The Bridge”
“The Rightside Up.”
The fifth and final season of Stranger Things will stream on Netflix in 2025.
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tv-moments · 2 months ago
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The Perfect Couple
“Happy Wedding Eve”
Director: Susanne Bier
DoP: Roberto De Angelis, Shane Hurlbut
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marcovaleyeah · 6 months ago
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02.06.24
#Mira-Marathon | Night at the Museum
Film Name: Night at the Museum (2006); Production Studios: Twentieth Century Fox, 21 Laps Entertainment, Ingenious Media, Dune Entertainment, 1492 Pictures, Sun Canada Productions; Director by: Shawn Levy; Screenwriters: Robert Ben Garant, Thomas Lennon; Starring: Ben Stiller, Jake Cherry, Carla Gugino, Robin Williams, Steve Coogan; Genres: Fantasy, Adventure, Comedy, Family; Running Time: 1 hour 48 minutes;
"Night at the Museum" (2006) is a comedy with Ben Stiller, where museum exhibits come alive at night. The film is distinguished by light humor, good acting and visual effects. Although the plot is predictable and the secondary characters are weakly developed, the film is ideal for family viewing.
My rating:
⭐⭐⭐
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notiddygothgf · 20 days ago
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13. Yours
★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader
★ ❝ Such a good girl. Always following orders. ❞
★ c.w.: smut. (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)
★ a/n: child now when i tell you exams are kicking my ass rn. when will it end omg. ANYWAY! i baked cookies but that didnt cheer me up so i figured id post a chappie early to hear from my pookies during such a difficult time. ily all. ur comments rlly do make my whole week. ANYWAY THIS CHAPTER IS SOOOOO TASTY AND DELICIOUS AND NASTY. im lowkey ashamed of myself. no one look at me. i hope my bf never reads this and realizes how much of a freak i am. id have to kms. 
★ w.c: .5.8k
shameless ; chapter index
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AFTER DINNER – during which you got to know Aki’s roommates a little better (especially the leg humper) – the four of you sat around the coffee table in the living room. The TV was on low, playing something that Aki had been watching before he dozed off unceremoniously on the floor. He was laying on his side, back turned to you and his roommates, curled up in a little ball with his head in your lap.
Denji, Power and you were knee-deep in an intense game of Uno. You didn’t even remember packing the deck of cards, but if you had to guess, you most likely had stuck it in your purse to keep you entertained on the train. 
It had taken you twenty minutes to explain the rules to them, which was right about when Aki decided to lay down for a nap. It took them another two rounds of the game to grasp it. 
“Uno!” Power proclaimed, slamming her card on the table and leaving her with…
Three cards. She had three.
“You’ve still got three left, dipshit,” Denji hissed at her. “I didn’t even go to school, and I know that!”
“Exactly, Uno,” She replied, crossing her arms like she did something. “Three letters in Uno, three cards in my grasp. Victory is mine!”
“Uno means one, actually,” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, you could see why Aki was so stressed all the time around those two. Two cards sat in the palm of your hand, and you were conflicted. On one hand, granted the color remained green, you could put down your second to last card and call ‘Uno’. On the other…
“You’re lying to me!” Power slammed her fists down on Aki’s table. “You’re only saying that because he won the last one. The two of you are conspiring against me.”
Something told you she wouldn’t take another loss too well. 
Aki stirred in your lap, grumbling as he shifted, the sudden commotion disrupting his nap. He sat up slowly, his hair disheveled, and muttered something about grabbing a smoke. He pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head before standing and dragging his feet towards the sliding door that led to the balcony. The sound of the door sliding shut was softer than the clamor inside.
“Let’s just move on. We all know you’re not winning,” Denji sucked his teeth, ignoring Aki’s exit. He flicked through his hand (of 21 cards) before putting three green cards down. He chuckled to himself, “Victory is mine.”
Remembering the story Aki told you once about Power putting a hole in the door (and subsequently raising his rent) because she was upset that it didn’t open for her, you sighed, deciding to choose the higher road.
And instead of putting down your green six and shouting Uno, you shook your head, picking a card up from the pile. 
You could win another day.
Power put down two cards (which didn’t fully match, but, at this point, you weren’t going to clock her). “UNO!”
You threw your hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright, Power wins,” you said, your tone light with playful surrender.
Denji groaned and threw his cards down in frustration. “I want round four!” he demanded, already scooping up the pile.
You glanced toward the balcony, where Aki was leaning against the railing, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. He patted himself down, likely searching for his lighter.
You shook your head with a laugh. “You guys play without me,” you said, rising from your seat. “Take it to one of your rooms, though. Aki’s gonna lose it if he comes back and sees this mess.”
Both Denji and Power immediately protested. “But they’re your cards!” Denji said, frowning.
“Keep them,” you shrugged, offering him an easy smile. “They’re yours.”
“Really?” Denji’s eyes lit up, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink – and, for a moment, you were reminded of the fact that he was still a boy beneath everything he had been through. He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t trust his luck.
You chuckled softly, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Yeah. That way they’ll be here next time we play.”
Denji beamed, and Power—ever the sore loser despite somehow winning—began gathering the scattered cards with a huff.
You bit your lip, stealing a glance at Aki through the glass door. His figure was bathed in the pale glow of the city lights, his face calm as he finally lit his cigarette, taking a slow drag. 
Pushing yourself up from the floor, you padded softly toward the door, leaving Denji and Power behind to clean up their mess. As you slid the door open, the cool night air greeted you. Behind you, you could hear the muffled sounds of Denji and Power bickering about how to organize the deck.
But out here, it was just you and Aki.
You stepped closer, the sound of his exhale, the cigarette smoke curling into the night sky, filling the space between you.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” You smiled, shutting the door softly behind you. 
When he didn’t immediately acknowledge you, you took a spot next to him on the ledge, with your back up against it. The streets of Tokyo glimmered and bustled below. The skyline stretched out on either side of you. 
Finally, Aki answered through a mouthful of smoke, “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
You stuck your tongue into your cheek, “Who, Denji?” You asked. When your only response was Aki’s gaze, you glanced out over the balcony, “He’s harmless. It’s like a dog humping a visitor’s leg.”
Aki rolled the cigarette between his index and pointer finger before he wrapped his lips around it – slowly, deliberately, like he was lost in thought. “He can hump any other visitor he wants,” He answered. Then, voice a little lower, he added, “You’re mine.”
You bristled at that, a wonton chill running down your spine. Briefly, you remembered his words from earlier – This isn’t over. You may have gotten your fix, but he hadn’t. 
And lord knew, as weak as you were for him, you always gave Aki what he wanted.
The heat in your gut made it hard to breathe around him. Back pressed against the cold balcony, you looked into his eyes. Leaning over it with his arm crossed, he mirrored you. You weren’t used to seeing Aki’s jealous side.
But, shit, you weren’t sure you hated it.
“Not until after the divorce,” You remarked with a funny little half-smirk. You couldn’t even remember where you had left your wedding ring – back at the hotel, probably. Didn’t mean much in the first place.
Aki didn’t even crack a smile at your joke. No, he kept on gazing down at you with those thoughtful blue eyes of his, like he was trying to pick you apart at the seams. He looked at the skyline, then back at you, taking another puff of his cigarette and blowing it off to the side. 
“Hey,” You asked. Did I go too far? “What’s wrong? Too far?”
You didn’t get a response from him.
“You… You called me your girlfriend in front of those two the other week,” You sighed, “Did you… Did you mean… that? Would you wanna–” You swallowed, wishing that would kill off the butterflies that were swarming around in your belly. “Date… me?”
You had so much finesse. One of these days, you were gonna win an award for it – best conversationalist in the entire world.
Not.
To your surprise, he did answer that question, “Of course I am.”
You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Aki took another hit of his cigarette – and, truly, only he could make it look so enticing. 
“Are you serious about this? About us?” He asked, finally confronting the elephant in the room. “About leaving him?”
You blinked up at him, eyes wide, heartbeat thrumming against your ribs, “Of course I am. Why?”
“Because I don’t think I would be able to take getting my heart broken by you,” He answered truthfully, blowing his bangs out of his eyes so he could look at you. Then, after a beat, he stubbed his cigarette out on the railing, flicking the butt over the edge. He took a bold step towards you. 
“Tell me it’s just temporary. Just until the divorce,” He demanded. You hadn’t expected him to confront you about the issue head-on like that but, still, you supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were in and out of his life like a ghost, and your future with him was constantly at risk. When he was close enough to make your face flush, close enough that you could smell the scent of his soap and the smoke that lingered on his clothes, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.” 
His words felt like a confrontation, but you couldn’t find it in you to blame him. You had been in and out of his life like a ghost, your presence a fleeting comfort, your absence a constant uncertainty. How could he trust in something that always seemed to be at risk of slipping away?
He moved closer, so close that the warmth of his body seemed to chase away the cold that had begun to settle into your bones. You could smell him—his soap, the faint hint of cologne, the smoke that clung to his clothes. His scent was intoxicating, and you were already a little tipsy, more off him than the wine from earlier.
“I…” you began, throat dry as you licked your lips, your mind racing for the right words. Your eyes flickered briefly to the living room behind you, but it was empty, as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of you on this balcony. “Well, for the moment being—legally, I—”
He didn’t let you finish. “Fuck the law,” he cut you off, his voice hardening, his presence overwhelming, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his face. “Tell me you belong to me. Only me.”
His words smothered you, wrapping around you like a vice, and you felt your resolve crumble beneath the weight of his intensity. Your breath hitched, and when his nose brushed yours—just barely grazing, a near kiss that sent heat pooling low in your stomach—you let out a soft, involuntary sigh. Your hands trembled as they hovered near his chest, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m all yours.”
His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you toward him with a force that was almost possessive, but not unwelcome. Before you could catch your breath, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was rough, unyielding, and full of everything left unsaid.
Your body melted into his, and all thoughts of the cold, of the complications, of everything but him faded into the background. You were his. And in this moment, that was all that mattered.
The kiss was rough, demanding, as if Aki had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His grip on the back of your neck was firm, pulling you closer, claiming you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, every sense overwhelmed by him—his touch, his taste, the way his body felt pressed against yours. But as your lips collided, you realized how exhausting it was to keep craning your neck upward to kiss him.
Without breaking contact, you pushed him back, gently but insistently, guiding him toward the chair on the balcony. Aki stumbled slightly, caught off guard by your sudden movement, and as he fell into the chair, there was a brief pause—his back hit the seat with a soft thud. He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with heat and surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile, standing over him in your bare-legged, his-sweater-wearing glory.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Aki’s gaze traveled slowly up your legs, his hands following, fingertips tracing the soft skin of your thighs with deliberate slowness – like you were a blank canvas he was aching to paint. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath hitched as you watched him, heart thundering in your chest.
“And you,” you began, your voice catching in your throat as his hands slid higher, his fingers brushing just beneath the hem of the sweater. “Are you…?” You gasped quietly, biting your lip as his hands pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, his touch both teasing and electrifying. “Are you mine?”
Aki’s eyes darkened, his breath coming out in a shallow exhale. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice rough, filled with something raw, something you hadn’t heard from him before. He looked up at you, his expression almost reverent as he pulled you down onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. 
The moment your body settled against his, his hands gripped your waist, and without hesitation, his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier this time, as if now that he had you, he wasn’t willing to let go. His hands slid under the sweater, fingers splaying against your back, pulling you impossibly closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch against your lips.
You deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch lightly against your lips. When you pulled away, the tension was back, heavier than before. Aki’s eyes met yours, darkened with that familiar intensity. You barely had time to catch your breath before his lips were on you again—rougher this time, needier. The kiss was messy, open-mouthed, his tongue sliding against yours with a kind of desperate hunger that left you breathless.
He was pressing up against your core – achingly hard, throbbing right up against your heat. It was too much and not enough at the same time.
His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer, his grip firm as if he was afraid to let go. You melted into him, completely giving in, your lips moving together with an urgency that had been building all evening. The sound of his heavy breathing mingled with yours, filling the little balcony.
When he finally pulled back, it was only for a second, just long enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough and low. “You still want more, baby?”
“Always,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “You?”
He grinned, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes, though now there was a darker edge to it. “I’m an addict. You already know this,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful purr. “I’ll have you whenever I can, wherever I can.”
A thrill shot through you, the heat between you both palpable. “Right here?” you teased, your lips curling into a smile. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”
“Why bother?” he quipped, his grin widening as his fingers traced the curve of your waist. His eyes darkened further, a glint of challenge sparking in them. “You scared?”
You felt the rush of adrenaline, a mix of fear and excitement, but you didn’t want to back down—not now. To prove it, you kissed him hard, pressing your body into his, letting your hands roam beneath his shirt. Your fingertips grazed over the hard lines of his abs, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.
He groaned into your mouth, and it spurred you on, the fire between you flaring even hotter – God, you loved how reactive he was.
“I’m still ready from earlier,” you whispered breathlessly against his lips, reaching between your body and his to tug impatiently at the drawstrings of his pants. “I can’t wait any longer.”
His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as he growled, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “Neither can I.”
Then he was lifting his hips – and taking you with him, wiggling his pants just low enough to free his erection. He reached beneath your sweater, hooking the crotch of your panties beneath his finger and pulling them to the side with a quiet mumble of, “Stay quiet and we won’t get caught.”
You reached behind your ass, lining his head up with the place where you needed him the most. Then, taking a deep breath and holding it in anticipation, you pushed down on it. It was slight, just enough for the tip to be in – just enough to have you mewling, gripping his shoulders with unwarranted strength. A wince, and then you took in another inch or two.
His pretty blue eyes were on you – only you. Like he was amazed. Like you were the only thing he wanted. You loved the way they blinked slowly, waiting for your next move. You loved the way they seemed to glimmer beneath the moonlight. You loved the way they rolled back when you sank down onto him until your ass was flush up against his hips – finally melding your bodies together with a synchronized gasp.
He was warm, so warm. It felt as if he was meant to be there – buried deep inside of you, keeping you nice and full. 
You leaned down, licking his lower lip. With a groan, he gripped your hair at the base of your scalp roughly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing your lips together. Then, he used his other hand to rock your hips back and forth – and it was the most agonizingly delicious sensation ever. You could feel your pussy aching with the stretch of him, a dull throb accompanied by the overwhelming pleasure you got every time he massaged your walls.
Back, then forth. Back, then forth – as if he had all of the time in the world to rock you in his lap.
You leaned your head back, letting your lips part around a contented sigh of, “Feels good, Aki”.
You lifted yourself off of his lap, then brought yourself back down – just once, just to test the waters. Immediately you were bathed in a familiar warmth, one that crawled its way down your spine from the back of your neck. It felt good– really good, so you did it again.
“Ah– hah,” He laughed breathlessly. Out here, it was dead silent. In fact, other than the noises from the street below, the only thing you could hear was your mingled pants, the quiet grunts he let out every time you moved. He seemed so pent up.
Then, you remembered that he was pent up. After all, he hadn’t gotten his fix yet.
So you did what any lover would have done in your shoes. You braced your hands on his strong, broad shoulders and planted your feet firmly for support, bouncing on his dick the way you knew he liked. The way that drove him crazy.
He let out a long, drawn-out, sinful moan of your name. The syllables sounded like a symphony falling from his lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”
And, fuck, you were seeing stars. He was so deeply nestled in your guts that you didn’t think you would ever be able to form a coherent thought again. Dickwhipped, just as Himeno said.
You thought of him on this very same balcony only a few months earlier, confessing to you. 
“I’m a bad influence on you, aren’t I?” He mused quietly. His hand ghosted over your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, gripping your chin and gently tilting your gaze up to meet his eyes.  “I have a better idea.”
You raised a brow at his antics. Wordlessly, he took a long, lazy drag or his cigarette. His thumb tugged down on your lower lip, begging for entry – which you provided obediently. 
He was the image of sin, pretty blues half-lidded and trained on the place where his calloused thumb met your lip. He brought your face closer to his slowly, like he was trying to gauge your feelings before he made his move. 
Then – when his mouth brushed delicately against yours  – he tugged your lip open in tandem with his own, breathing the smoke into your mouth.
And you felt yourself shiver – perhaps it was the cold gust of wind that hit your back. Either way, you stopped, telling him, “You’re so hot when you smoke, you know that? You make it look so tempting.”
“You think?” He breathed – his words light but his voice heavy. “Don’t start.”
“It turns me on,” You admitted.
His eyes widened at that. Then, they darkened. Slowly, he reached for the carton of cigarettes he had discarded on the table earlier – it was standing upright atop a stack of magazines and newspapers. Flipping it open with one hand, he fished a stick out, popping it between his teeth.
He replaced the carton on the table, handing you his lucky lighter. 
“Spark me, pretty mama,” He spoke lazily, eyes half lidded and dangerous. 
You did exactly that – like he wasn’t still throbbing inside of you, like you weren’t dripping down his thighs – holding the lighter up to his lips and striking it until the flame took. Once the end of the cig sizzled, you set it down on the table.
Aki puffed smoke out of the corner of his mouth, then pulled a long, savory drag. The smoke poured out of his nose, then his lips. 
“Addict,” He hummed.
“That’s rich–” You began, sucking your teeth at him with the slightest pout, interrupted only when he gripped the fat of your ass, picking you up and bouncing you gently enough that his dick shifted inside of you. The pleasure was searing white-hot, utterly intoxicating. “Fuckin– shit…”
“Keep going how you were going before,” He hummed. His digits formed a little peace sign in front of his face as he pulled another hit, then pinched the cigarette as he breathed it out to the side. When you started bouncing with a little more vigor, he laid his head back, sighing with content, “You got it, just like that.”
“Feel so fuckin’ good inside of me,” You praised him, chasing that high you so-desperately craved.
“Such a good girl. Always following orders,” He tilted his head at you. Then, the young Captain rolled his tongue over your lower lip, commanding, “Open up.”
You opened your mouth, half expecting him to spit into it, but that never happened. Instead, his hand traced a path from your lips down to your neck. His fingers wrapped themselves around your throat, keeping a grip strong enough to have your head feeling light with heady desire. Then, while your mouth was still open, he pulled you in closer – all while encouraging you quietly to keep going.
He turned his head to the side, sucking on his cigarette until the cherry burned bright orange. Then, he opened his mouth and moved a little closer, lining your lips up just enough– just right, so that he could shotgun the smoke into your eager mouth.
The pleasure burned white hot, deep inside of you. 
“Hold it,” He told you.
You sealed your lips around the smoke, even when it burned– even when it made your eyes water. You would do anything for him. 
Then, breathlessly, he connected your lips, sucking the smoke back out of your mouth. He turned his head to the side and breathed it out.
You bounced on him even harder – until the chair was creaking with the force of how hard you were riding him.
“Aki,” You gasped – loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t. “Aki, baby.”
He pressed your thighs together, rolling you back and forth just right – just enough that you could feel the length of him splitting you apart with the most delicious squelch. Your eyes rolled so far back you damn near saw the back of your skull.
“I’m right here,” He answered. He gripped your hip a little harder with the free hand he had, eyes squeezing shut, muttering against your lips, “God– You’re so good, feel so good– So good for me.”
Without breaking the kiss, he scooped you up into his big, strong arms. He threw your legs around his waist haphazardly.
And you, as weak for him as you were, found yourself kissing him back. Kissing him until your lungs burned with the strain of it, until he set you down and backed you up against the balcony.
“Wanna bend you over the ledge and let the whole city know whose ass this is,” He panted. His hand replaced itself on your jaw – fingers digging into the skin of your neck. “You want that? Want me to show them all?”
He spun you around and pressed your back down until your chest met the cold railing. He kicked your trembling legs apart, slotting himself beneath them.
You could feel him pressed up against you, his warmth, his hard angles, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body.
“It’s mine,” He growled into a kiss against the back of your neck. “Don’t give a shit what the law says. You’re mine.”
You hated how right he was. From the start, it had been that way. The moment he’d bought you that damned glass of wine at the Public Safety party, your husband couldn’t have been further from your mind.
“Aki, I–” You were about to say, but the words died in your throat when he nestled his cockhead between your folds and slid right back in – deeper this time, out where the whole world could see you. You gasped out like it was ripped from your lungs, fingers digging into the railing while he split you open. “Fuck!” 
You were about to fucking pass out. He slid into you with such ease, fuck.
He ran his hand up your back – hiking the sweater up, sliding further up until his fingers threaded themselves into your hair. Then, roughly, he gripped you by the scalp and craned your head back.
“Let ‘em know, then, baby,” He growled. “Let em know who’s fucking you like this.”
He resumed his harsh pace, and you were seeing stars, shapes, colors. Every time his pelvis smacked against your ass, every time he bottomed out inside of you – over and over and over, all you could do was gasp and cry for him. 
“Aki-iii–” You moaned, reaching back to dig your fingernails into his sweatpants. “Aki!”
He was, without a fraction of a doubt, fucking the everloving shit out of you. Fucking you so hard your eyes were fluttering shut, so hard you couldn’t help but wonder if your husband could hear you all the way over there, on the other side of Tokyo.
“You’re mine,” He growled, landing a smack to your ass, going hard enough for it to hurt just right. “Right, hmm? Allllll mine.”
“God, yes!” You cried out – all but screaming the words. “Fuck, ye-es!”
“Fuck, it’s all mine,” Your husband panted, thrusting into you one last time before stilling.
You felt his seed fill you. With a wince, you bit your lip. A few more pants, and he was collapsing on top of you.
“That was fuckin’ great,” He laughed breathlessly. “Did you cum?”
You forced a smile. “Yeah,” you lied, “Yeah, I did.”
“Aki, don’t stop–” You whined, feeling him pistoning into you – hitting that spot that had your legs shaking. “Aki, ‘m close! Fuck, ‘m so close, don’t stop!”
“I won’t, baby,” He answered you. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Pretty pussy. All mine, yeah?”
“Mhm,” You answered dumbly.
A few more harsh thrusts, and you were teetering over the edge. A few more, and you were dripping for him, dripping down your thighs, dripping onto the balcony. 
“Say it,” He gasped out.
You obeyed, “‘S yours.”
You were close. So close that you could feel the train coming an awful lot sooner than you expected.
“Louder,” He said again.
You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You glanced back at him, watching as his mouth parted to release a shaky gasp of your name. He made it look so pretty, so sinful. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.
Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.
"Yes! Yes!" You gasped out as he landed another spank on your ass. "It’s yours!" His eyes met yours in a lustful daze.
His.
"Mine," He growled back in response. "No one else's."
You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- yours!"
“Cum for me, baby,” He growled into your ear, leaning over to press a kiss to your neck. “Let the whole city know.”
Finally, you cried, “Fuckin’ love you, fuck– ‘M cumming– Oh, God, I’m cumming!”
The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.
This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.
He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped.
You pulled away from him with a breathless laugh. “Denji told us to be quiet. You think he heard us?”
“I’m sure they heard us down in Osaka,” He retorted. Easing out of you, he kissed your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
You leaned into Aki’s warmth, letting his arm settle over you as he drifted, his breathing soft and even. It was so quiet in his room, so still, with only the faint hum of the city filtering through the window. Every time you stirred, his grip tightened—each small movement pulling you deeper into a comfort you didn’t expect to find, a warmth that was just... easy. Your mind told you to leave, to pull yourself out of his bed and back to your real life, but you kept slipping further into his quiet embrace, letting the soft rhythm of his breathing lull you closer to sleep.
When you finally shifted to get up, his arm tightened, and a small groan slipped from his lips. “No, stay,” he murmured, half-awake, his voice rough and muffled in the pillow.
You froze, caught off guard by the quiet plea in his voice, the lazy way he pulled you back into his warmth, his eyes still barely open. “Just for a minute,” you whispered, barely believing the words yourself as you settled back into his bed, close enough to feel his steady breaths against your shoulder.
And somehow, that minute stretched on, fading into a quiet comfort that slipped you straight into sleep.
You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep when you jolted awake, your eyes flying open in the gray pre-dawn light. You grabbed your phone, the bright screen stinging in the dim room as your heart lurched—three missed calls. Tanimoto. Your chest tightened as you quickly checked the time. Three hours late. And no response.
Your hand shook as you reached over, placing it lightly on Aki’s shoulder. “Aki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet. He shifted, his eyes cracking open, barely awake.
“I need to go,” you said, trying to steady your breath, keeping your voice low. “I was supposed to be home three hours ago. I… have four missed calls from my husband.”
It took him a second to process your words, his eyes foggy with sleep, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you. “Oh.” He blinked, nodding vaguely, his expression softening as he drifted back under, already halfway lost in sleep again before you’d even moved from the bed.
Your stomach twisted as you looked at him, his face relaxed in the soft morning light, that gentleness still hanging in the air. You stood, gathering your things as quietly as you could, moving slowly to keep from waking him. With one last look back at his sleeping form, you slipped out of his apartment and into the early morning chill, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself.
The streets were empty, the world still draped in that soft gray light, suspended between night and morning. It felt surreal, the cold air biting as you made your way back to the hotel, your heart pounding faster with each step closer to the door. Everything about the night felt like a blur, a vivid dream you couldn’t quite hold on to as reality crept back in.
By the time you slipped your key into the lock and stepped inside, it was close to four in the morning. You froze, the silence pressing in around you, the kind that only the early morning could bring. Setting your keys down on the table, you glanced around the room, the stillness somehow both familiar and foreign, like you were seeing it for the first time and knowing it by heart at once.
Moving quietly, you slipped into the bedroom, the dim outline of Tanimoto’s form on the bed barely visible in the low light. His breathing was steady, calm, a stark contrast to the way your own pulse hammered in your chest. You paused, watching him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache that always seemed to linger, a tension you couldn’t name, and slowly let out a breath.
You slid into bed beside him, the cool sheets clinging to your skin as you settled in, a scowl twisting your lips as you stared at the ceiling. Every sound seemed louder here, the soft hum of the heater, the faint creak of the mattress, even Tanimoto’s gentle breathing beside you—each one a reminder of everything else, the weight of the night sinking in, pressing down on you in the quiet.
But as you lay there, the events of the night replayed in your mind. Aki’s quiet “stay” whispered through your thoughts, lingering there, unshakable, like a memory that refused to fade. You could still feel his arm around you, his warmth, that slight hitch in his breath when he’d pulled you close. And then Tanimoto’s missed calls, lighting up your screen with an urgency that made your stomach twist with guilt.
A sigh slipped from your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to push it all away. But it clung to you, that sense of being caught between two worlds, pulled in two directions at once. The ache of it made your chest tighten, the memory of Aki’s soft plea echoing in your mind. You could almost still feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the gentle weight of his arm around you, lulling you into sleep.You were fucked. (And you were fucked good).
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a/n: heyyyy…. ahem… how yall doing after that……… look you already know im one feral mf. no one make eye contact rn. god i love him and i LOVED writing this chapter. i hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much!! its all uphill tension from here! Lmfao! ttm in the comments!! how r yall? howd you like it?? what do you want to see in coming chapters?? Also, QOTD: is anime himeno a groomer? (and why is the answer yes)
credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!
taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505
wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index
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kel-lance · 8 months ago
Text
Stepdad Nanami
——MDNI——GROOMING, not really incest, Age gap, manipulation, broken home, slut shaming (at ur mom lol), drug mention—————-
You knew your mom’s marriage had about 3 years at most, you had to give it toher that 5 with the same man would have been a new record if she was only with him for that time.
It wasn’t your business. If you had anything to say the men would blame you and say you were just like her. 
You didn’t care about those guys, and they never lasted long with your mother anyway. It was like this for the first 16 years of your life until your mom met a handsome man, who became your stepfather after 2 years of dating your mother 
He was always nice to you, he did everything a good dad should. He got you a car, went all out on your birthday, he wasn’t tying to win you over, he was just that great, he made you change your mind about men. (maybe it was just the kind you mother kept running to)
It was heartbreaking the day he say you down, before he could explain his face sank. He covered his eyes and sighed as he explained that he’s serving your mom with divorce papers. he feels bad to bring you into this but he had to ask
You’re an adult now, you can make your own decisions, but I wanted to give you the chance to get away from her. I don’t mean any offense, but I know for a fact she’s going to use you or worse.
he was right on the money, sometimes she used you to lure in those strange men, where she’d threaten to tell their wives or police what they thought they were doing with you. It was just her type, people who could compare her to parts of herself. In this case, she was sick enough to use her daughter as bait.
You were safe though, it never got further than forceful kisses to tape as proof. That hag just had it out for you but would never consider sharing.
You immediately take his hand as you wanted to move out for years. You’re 21 but she’s had control over you. People always say just leave, you’re an adult so she has no power.
Try living your life as a flea in a jar or a frog in a growing boiling pot, there’s a whole world out there and yet you were taught your limits. 
Your eyes pleaded for him to take you away. You didn’t care, you felt closer to him than anyone. You knew it could be wrong, but he said it himself, you’re an adult now. And your mother wouldn’t be upset about sharing since he’s leaving her. 
You climb onto his lap and lay your head on his neck, his hand now slid down his face, covering his mouth as his other hand patted your head closer to him.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” He promised. 
The next week sure were hectic. You had to plan out what to take, gathering all your important documents and essentials. 
Nanami daddy got a studio for you both, in a matter days you had everything moved out of the house while your mom was on her bender. Her lapses of being with one man for months then going to whoever after was just part of her fun. She didn’t need them for anything other than attention.
Sometimes you wonder what your father was like, if he could’ve treated you better than her if she didn’t have u trapped in her body for months. U don’t want to know what she did while pregnant with you either. 
You were given this chance. Your stepdad leaving, and he was taking you with him. He saw what kind of life you both had. He found no sympathy for her as she was the adult. He stayed for you. 
A child should be cared for, loved. He didn’t get that from you at all when you first met. Just 16 and you avoided him like the plague. it gave him an indication of who was usually around.
He didn’t lure you out with gifts or make the first move. He just entertained your mother, as he did find something amusing with her. She was fun, but at home she’s a terrible mom and that wasn’t anything he found respectable. 
It wasn’t until the 4th month that he was still around that you just found it weird. No ones usually around this long. Mom was probably having a lot of fun with this idiot you thought.
The 6th month came and you started to come out when he was around. If he was in the kitchen, you wouldn’t wait for him to leave the space before making it yours. It was your house after all, you were going to remind him.
It was weird, but you were getting jealous of him being around. Your mom couldn’t stick to one thing, much less take responsibility and take care of you. Why was he so special? Why did she /want/ to see him?
You felt hatred grow in you as he noticed the posters on your wall, the music you played, how you dressed. For your 18th, he’d gotten you tickets to one of your favorite band’s shows. How the hell did he- and the small gifts like stickers of said posters, he made it so you weren’t surprised when you received yet another reward after accomplishing something, even the smallest thing. “Because you deserve it.”
You didn’t know if it weirded you out, that he was being so nice to you, or that he was your mom’s fiancé and you had him under you. 
That hate boiled over one day and you just had to get it out somehow. He was always patient with you, as you asked to talk to him. It surprised him, but it was definitely a step forward. 
He sits on the same side of the table as you, facing each other, your opposite arms touching the table.
“Are you upset about the wedding?”
You don’t say anything, your eyes darting, answering his question.
“I’m sorry (y/n), but it’s for the best. (M/n) said you’ve seemed happier since we got together.” Your stomach sank. “I could keep-“
You grasp out for his dress shirt sleeve, looking up at him, somewhat between crying and pouting, asking him to stop talking. 
His eyes widen. “(Y/n)…” You take his hand, bringing it to your body. You place his palm under your shirt, watching his face go from confused to flustered. His stoic personality wavering, you hold onto his arm and jump onto his lap. 
You could already feel it, he was so hard under you. 
“(Y/n)!” He takes his hand back, putting you back onto your chair. His stern look scared you. He’s never looked like that around you, only because you were always well behaved, or rather just kept to yourself. He never expected this from you. But you were your mother’s daughter. 
His hand around the wrist you let him feel you with. You didn’t know if you had just fucked up big time. Was the wedding off? You just wanted him to yourself and had to let him know. 
The look you gave him almost made him feel bad for treating you right the past few years. 
you werent used to that, you didn’t know any better. the anger you were feeling was from a lot of things. why did someone like your mother get to marry someone like him? 
Why weren’t there more people like him? If there were you would have been saved a long time ago, but instead, you’re giving it all to the first person who’s shown you you’re more than an extension of your mother. 
Thankfully he was just a man, and that yearnful, pathetic, desperate look a young girl could give to melt a man’s morals, he kissed you.
He keeps kissing you, almost like he was teaching you how he liked it, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care about anything else. Your mom could walk in right now and you’d show off how much better you were for nanami. 
That didn’t have to happen though. As his large hands found their way to your hips and he slowly brings you back to his lap. And after that day you were his. 
He stopped himself so many times to not take you just yet though. It wasn’t until the weeks leading up tot he wedding that he wanted you more than ever. And you’ve been more than patient. Only getting by with his touch and words of encouragement. 
You didn’t get why he still went through with the small wedding, maybe to just show off to everyone else, mislead them that he’s a good man, marrying into a good family, with an honest job and whatever else to solidify the lie. 
the next 2 years being the best you’ve ever had, up until your mothers alcoholism started to catch up with her. Her need to find solace in addictions, whether it was the validation of men, gambling, sex, any other drug, she was a mess. Everyone believed Nanami would be able to fix her, but her last blackout caused you to get a sprained wrist and black eye. That was when nanami had enough. 
Spoiler for part 2: Nanami's divorce lawyer fucks his step daughter (Hiromi makes an appearance.)
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