#Daydream dance practice

[maximura]

[waketoearth]

ENniversary 2024 predictions: lucifer dance practice, teeth dance practice, not for sale dance practice, and then the obvious stuff like the video to your future self etc

not for sale dance practice is coming whether you like it or not. i like it so it will come.

[lyrical-lover]

Reworking my Mista playlist and gods,,, I love this man so much sbsbsbsb

[s0dium]

Obsession

Warning: Love drunk men, fingering, titty sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, love drunk reader

~

Love courses through your veins. He’s all you can think about.

You wonder if it's normal to be this enamored with someone, to be this hopelessly head over heels infatuated and obsessed. You can't even focus on what needs to be done anymore because he's absorbed your entire being; he's in your head when you wake up, a gentle whisper in the back of your mind during conversations, a constant in your dreams, day or night.

But it's a doomed one-sided crush you remind yourself. You're not even sure if he knows you exist and in quieter moments, you wonder if perhaps it’s better this way. Loving from a distance means you never have to face the potential heartbreak of rejection, never have to see that polite smile of someone who doesn’t return your feelings. It's safer, you tell yourself, to admire him from afar, keeping your heart guarded behind the shield of daydreams and what-ifs.

So surely, right now in this moment, you must be dreaming.

It feels too vivid, too intense to be just a figment of your imagination. The warmth of his breath against your cheek, the weight of his bare body pressing gently down on yours, the softness of his lips moving against your own with an insatiable hunger—it all feels astonishingly real.

Because it is.

You don't know how but now you're naked underneath him, letting him touch, grope, suck, kiss, nip, and bite anything his hands and mouth can find. He doesn't let up either, he's exploring your body like a starved man, like he'll never get a chance to touch you ever again and wont pull away until he's had his fill.

You gasp when you feel his fingers between your legs, tracing your inner thigh before gliding between your pussy lips. Instinctively, you jerk back at the feeling; his fingers collecting your arousal and sliding up and down. But before you can speak, he kisses you again, his tongue eagerly intertwining with yours. When he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless, a thin strand of saliva connects your mouths.

"Just let me take care of you okay?" He hums before dipping two fingers into your tight hole. "Just been waiting so long to do this."

You don't even have time to react before he's curling his digits and massaging a sweet spot you could only dream about hitting on your own. His other hand gropes your left breast and with his index and thumb, begins to play with your perky nipples. As if that wasn't enough, his mouth found your other breast and gave it the same attention, licking sucking, and rolling your nipple like it was candy.

Colors dance across your closed eyelids and you wonder if this is heaven, if you've died and reached nirvana because the pleasure is just that good. You dont know if you can handle this, handle the fact that he's sucking and playing with your nipples while finger fucking you. Your toes curl and uncurl from the hot searing euphoria that is absorbing your body and emitting from your core. Your back arches off the bed and your crying his name, moaning it even, something you only dreamed about doing late at night when you craved him.

Suddenly, his mouth releases your nipple with a pop and he ceases all of his ministrations, leaving you breathless and confused.

"Fuck, I-" He's breathless himself, his face flushed and pupils blown. "Need to be inside you, need to feel you." He practically groans, and you thickly gulp at his words. Your brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his abdomen after being released from its confines.

He watches you lay down on the bed, breasts and cunt glistening from juices. You dont know this but he actually thinks he is dreaming. You look like a painting right now and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from spilling just at the sight of you.

"Please," You whine, "Please fuck me."

Who is he to deny you?

Without a word he presses his tip against your entrance and slides into you, grunting at the snug fit of your walls. You let out a loud moan from the feeling of him filling you so so perfectly, so well you mentally curse yourself for thinking a dildo or your fingers could ever do the job.

Then with a moan of his own, he slides out of you, nearly leaving you empty, before rocking himself back into you. Oh, how he wanted to fuck you slow and nice, like you deserved, but as the seconds passed, his resolve seep away until he just couldn't possibly hold back anymore.

His thrusts become faster, quicker, slamming in and out of you with such vigor and ease due to your combined juices coating and dripping from both his length and your hole. The friction is delicious, and his tip seems to hit your g-spot perfectly with each thrust. He even grabs the underside of your thigh and pushes them against you, effectively folding you and half and allowing him to go even deeper inside you.

You could feel your rational slipping away as he groaned about how fucking good you felt, about how good you where taking him, how he had been dreaming about this. You want to say something too, say something about how you feel the same way, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth right now is wanton moans of his name.

The pleasure was becoming too much, it had been slowly building and building and you know your about to break any second, burst with such euphoria you don't know if you will ever come back from the high. Before you do though, your brain manages to work again for half a millisecond to express the exact words you are feeling.

"Love you! M'love you so much!" You gasped before letting yourself succumb to the mind-numbing orgasm that was waiting for you. Your whole body shook and quaked from the pleasure and your mind went white. You thought you might cry, from happiness or pleasure you did not know. But you didn't. You simply went limp while you let him use your body like a sex doll.

You are barely clinging onto consciousness when you feel his hips stutter against you and he scoops you up, holding you close while he cums inside you.

"Love you too, love you too." He groans against your ear.

Any character you want ;)

[gurugirl]

Use Me Up | boyfriend's best friend!h

Originally posted on Patreon!

Summary: Harry's your boyfriend's best friend and he's very hard to resist.

Word Count: 7,072

Warning: smut, cheating, lying, alcohol consumption

| Main Masterlist | Send me an ask! |

Look at him. Dark curls, soft green eyes, broad shoulders. All fit and tattooed with that dirty smirk aimed in your direction. It’d been like that all night. When no one was looking his eyes were on you.

Harry Styles. The object of desire for so many women. But the problem for you was that he was your boyfriend’s best friend. You should have been off-limits. He shouldn’t have even been taking part in your daydreams.

You rolled your eyes at him as Colin knocked his beer over.

Everyone had a couple too many drinks at that point. Your boyfriend, the worst off.

“Here,” you leaned down and righted the spilled can to halt the beer from pouring out.

Colin fell back into the couch and laughed as you got up to take the nearly empty can to the trash.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with that!”

“I actually think it’s time for a little water,” you countered.

Walking into the kitchen you took a breath and grabbed two cups for water. You needed some as well. You’d been hitting the strawberry lime seltzers kind of hard since you arrived at Ivy’s and you were feeling the alcohol.

“Need help?”

You turned to look over your shoulder as you shut off the faucet.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle this,” you laughed as you raised your hands, a cup of water in each.

Harry reached into the fridge to grab himself another beer, “All right. Was just being nice. You done drinking for the night?”

“Probably. Colin is for sure done. Gonna have to carry him home I think.”

“I’ll help you. I can tell he’s well past his limit. There’s no way you’re going to have an easy go of it with him. He’s like Gumby when he gets drunk.”

You laughed and Harry licked his lips as he watched you. You hated (but you loved it) when he licked his lips while he was looking at you. It elicited memories of the not-so-long-ago past.

. .

You arrived at Colin’s a little early but you knew Harry’d be there and he’d let you in until Colin showed up.

He got you a soda from the fridge and you both went into the living room where he showed you their new record player.

“It’s got great sound and check this out,” he pulled out an album and placed it over the turntable showing you how the tone arm lowered automatically and cycled the vinyl around to the perfect spot to begin at the first song.

“Oh, that’s cool!” You watched as he clicked a button and sound started playing through the speakers. It was an old popular 70s rock song, “The sound quality really is good.”

He snapped his fingers and began to move his hips as he grinned at you so you placed your soda down and mimicked him, swaying and laughing as you snapped your fingers.

Behind Harry’s grin, you saw something else. The way he licked his lips, his eyes traveled over your curves, and he slunk in closer as he moved to the music- it held some kind of intensity that you weren’t sure how to work out. One thing was for sure; Harry was a flirt and your boyfriend was not home.

“You’re cute,” Harry said it so flippantly as he jutted his chin up and kept his eyes on yours.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Yeah right…”

But he did this thing that had you feeling a slurry of scorching lava under your fingertips as he bit into his bottom lip with his eyelids drooped gently, pupils winding over your hips while you continued to move and he pulled your hand into his, redirecting your flow until you were practically dancing in his arms.

“You know you’re cute. What are you doing dating Colin anyway?”

His hand wound over your hip as he kept his eyes on yours.

“I…” you laughed and shook your head. You weren’t sure what he was doing but it had you reeling. His heavy presence and deep voice, the music lulling you into surrender, his pretty bright eyes, that evil grin… It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d flirted with you in private.

“You’re too good for him, Y/n,” he spoke smoothly, his face nearing yours and his voice dripping with lusty deception.

“I doubt that, Harry,” you spoke just above a whisper as he slithered around you until his hands were holding your hips and your back was against his chest. You knew it was wrong. You knew you should have stopped but you didn’t want to.

And when you felt his breath on the back of your ear and he pressed his hips against your bum you softly gasped but made no move to stop him. He was too close and his lips were practically brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept swaying you in step with his movements, hips glued to your backside, and then he moaned. The sound vibrating off your neck and making goosebumps rise up on your skin.

You closed your eyes and settled your hands over his when he let out another graveled moan into your ear, “You like this don’t you? Need more attention from Colin than he can give you…”

It was true. You were a bit needy while Colin was a bit cold, aloof. But it’d always been that way with you two and you’d settled and gotten used to the way he was. However, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss attention. And Harry was suddenly filling in the small gaps left behind from Colin’s apathy.

But the moment you heard the keys in the door, Harry moved away from you just as deftly as he’d pulled you against his chest and acted like nothing had happened. 

. .

You forced Colin to drink his whole cup of water and by the time he’d finished he was already half asleep. It was time to go and Harry accompanied you.

“You don’t have to help,” you said as the three of you climbed into the back of a taxi together.

“Look at him, Y/n. What makes you think he’s gonna be able to walk to the door on his own? You certainly can’t carry him. Besides, I live at the same house and it was time for me to go as well. Saves us money anyway, yeah?”

You nodded. He had a point you supposed.

You were smushed between Harry and Colin in the backseat. Colin was like a limp noodle against you while Harry was warm and solid and somehow he took up so much more space than you imagined he would.

“You’re gonna stay over, right?” Harry looked down at you.

“I figured I would, yeah. It’s not a problem?”

Harry chuckled and looked out his window before putting his big palm over his thigh, knocking against your knee, “Of course it’s not a problem. I love it when you’re over.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off his pinky finger which was nudged against your jeans. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just because the space was so tight but you certainly didn’t mind it. Looking over at your boyfriend his mouth was dropped open and his eyes were closed. Out cold.

“He’s not waking up for the rest of the night,” Harry spoke quietly, his lips aimed toward your ear.

You gulped when Harry shifted the slightest, pressing his side into yours, and began moving his hand over his jeans-clad thigh, his pinky brushing over your own jeans-clad thigh.

When you arrived at the house, Harry pulled Colin out of the backseat and lifted him into his arms bridal style. You laughed at the sight and followed the men toward the door.

“Keys are in my front left pocket,” Harry said as he jutted his hips out and looked at you with a smirk.

You sighed and slid your fingers into his pocket, which was a bit tight, but you pushed in until you felt the metal and looped your finger into one of the key rings to pull at it.

Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth, “There you go, Y/n. Just like that.” Harry said it as if you were doing something naughty to him.

Unlocking the door you stepped in and held it open for Harry, who walked past you and took his best friend to his bed, laying his head on the pillow and then removed his boots. You watched from the doorway of Colin’s room as Harry took care of him, light shining into his room from the hallway.

Harry grunted when he pulled the last boot off and then got up to leave the room, closing the door behind himself.

You pointed toward the doorknob, “I’m probably just gonna call it a night actually.”

Harry pressed his lips together, hiding the grin that was trying to take over his features, “Nahh… stay up a little longer with me. Don’t go to bed yet.”

It was a terrible idea. You weren’t being forced to follow him away from Colin’s room. You weren’t being manipulated or deceived. You were curious, though. Wondered what might happen if given the chance.

You both had a bottle of water as you sat on the stool near the record player and Harry sat on the couch across from you, his legs spread apart.

“Why you all the way over there?” He licked his goddamn lips again as he looked at you with what could only be described as bedroom eyes; that half-lidded, sultry gaze.

 “I don’t know. I just sat here is all,” you shrugged and capped your water bottle before placing it on the floor by your feet.

“You got work tomorrow?” He asked as he crossed an ankle over his knee before his ring-clad fingers ran up and down his thick thighs.

“No. I don’t work Sundays. What about you?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope. Means we can stay up as late as we want. Colin won’t wake up til afternoon anyway. When he gets like this he’s a log.”

You laughed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen him like this a few times. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you put a record on,” he gestured toward the turn table next to you.

You squatted down to go through the records, tracing your fingers over the dust jackets until you found one that had a mix of popular 70s songs, “You guys have a lot of 70s music.”

Harry crouched down next to you to see which album you were looking at, “S’cause these are all used and plus 70s music is pretty good, yeah?” He grinned at you, taking the record from your hands and stood up, “Want this one?”

You nodded and watched him put the vinyl on the record player and then hit the button for the music to begin. The song that started to play sounded like something instrumental at first but then you heard the first line Got a black magic woman…

Harry turned to look down at you and began bobbing his head and rolling his shoulders, moving to the music. You laughed at him. He was being a little goofy with his movements but the dimpled grin on his face was evidence that he was trying to make you laugh. You swung your arms then raised them over your head and spun around with your hips swaying.

You and Harry kept moving to the song and then he was behind you, singing the words to the song when you felt him moving in step with you, “She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me… Don’t turn your back on me baby…”

You laughed as he sang just loud enough for you to hear his raspy voice in your ear.

“Is my singing funny to you,” you felt his hand on your arm, nudging you back toward him.

You turned to look back at him over your shoulder, “You’re just funny, Harry. You’re being goofy.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m goofy?” He held your arm as he pressed his chest into your back and continued singing, “Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks…Don’t turn your back on me, baby… You just might pick up my magic sticks…”

You moved with the music and couldn’t help the cheesy grin on your face as he brought a hand down to your hip while his other stayed wrapped around your upper arm.

He sang his breathy words into your ear and it made your skin to heat but the way he was holding you against his body had your resolve crumbling. Not that you had much resolve to begin with.

“Yes, you got your spell on me, baby… Turnin’ my heart into stone… I need you so bad magic woman, I can’t leave you alone…”

You moaned, the top row of your teeth jammed into your bottom lips and he squeezed at your hip as his lips grazed against your ear.

You knew this would happen. When you were looking through the albums you wondered if he’d get up and dance with you. If he’d pull you into his arms and seduce you like he nearly did that time before. Or any of the other times he flirted with you or touched your skin, or whispered compliments into your ear when Colin wasn’t paying attention. There was only so much a girl could take when a man like Harry was coming on to her.

And who would ever know?

You raised your arms and drew your hands to the back of his neck as he continued swaying you in his arms, his crotch glued to your bum and you felt every bit of him pressed into you. His hot exhale on your neck was damp on your skin just before his pink lips found your flesh.

It sent a crackle of electricity through your spine as he began to kiss your soft skin slowly and when the song changed you found yourself being turned in his arms, all blurry and hot and thirsting when you felt his mouth smeared against yours.

He cradled the back of your head as his lips pressed plush kisses to your mouth and then his tongue slid over yours.

You’d stopped moving altogether and instead just stood next to the record player as the music played and you made out with Harry. If Colin walked in you didn’t know if you’d be able to even stop then. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his hands were rewiring your brain chemistry and all you wanted was him.

A cracked moan fell from your chest as Harry pulled away, his eyes locked on yours as he tugged at you, moving you toward his bedroom.

The Bill Withers song was still playing in the background as you were led to his room.

I want to spread the news… That if it feels this good getting used… Oh, you just keep on using me… Until you use me up…

He shut his door and the sound of the song was muffled but when he put his hands on your hips and his soft lips found yours you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled at him until you were both on his bed, limbs tangled and mouths wound together.

He rolled to his back and pulled you over his legs so you were straddling his thighs on top of him as you kept kissing and groaning into his mouth.

You could feel how hard he was in his jeans as you rolled your pelvis gently down and he hissed, “Keep doing that and I’m not gonna be able to stop, Y/n.”

You laughed into his mouth and pulled away to look down at him, “What are we doing, Harry?”

He let out a breathy chuckle as he kept a hold of your hips, “We’re doing something very bad is what we’re doing.”

Biting your lip you looked at his kiss-swollen mouth and back into his eyes, “We shouldn’t though, right? This is bad.”

He licked his lips, “We shouldn’t. But who’s gonna stop us?” His big hands moved down to your thighs. “What if it’s just our little secret? No one has to know.”

You dropped your lips back down over his in an unspoken agreement. No one ever had to know. It’d be your dirty little secret. A naughty indulgence to never be spoken of again.

When you felt his fingers smooth up to the bottom hem of your shirt you felt him tugging it upward. Halting the movement of your mouth against his you sat up and shucked it from your torso. His hands immediately found your tits as you unhooked the back of your bra and the moment your nipples were bare to him he sat up, one arm winding around your low back as his hand cupped your fleshy breast and he ducked to pull it into his mouth.

Wet saliva coated each of your tits as Harry wove his mouth back and forth on your skin and your nipples. You slid your fingers into his hair and moaned as he leaned you back further until your back was on his mattress and he was hovering over you, undoing your jeans button.

You looked up at him and pulled at his t-shirt. You wanted to see more of him. You’d seen his bare chest before. You’d seen him in just running shorts a few times. The man was ungodly. Tattoos, chiseled pecs, and soft abs with masculine hair scattered over his chest. Strong arms that could crush and thighs that allowed him the sort of endurance you were sure would come in handy that very night. He was broad and dense, heavy and sexy as fuck.

When his skin was on view you ran your hands over his shoulders and down to his pecs as he began to undo his own jeans. You quickly pushed your fingers into your waistband and yanked your jeans down your legs until you were just left in stretchy red boyshorts.

Harry groaned and kicked his jeans off and then crawled back over you, carefully fitting himself between your thighs and laying his hips against yours, his hard cock, hidden by the thin layer of his boxers, rested over your pussy as he slowly rocked himself down. You lifted your hips upward to feel his girth and the heat of him between your legs.

Dry humping. You hadn’t done it since your first year of college. Guys tended to go right for getting naked and getting something wet as soon as possible.

Though, technically Harry was getting something wet. Between his tongue on your lips and your pussy secreting arousal with every nudge of his dick against your clit there was nothing dry about dry humping in that moment. Even his boxers were getting wet the longer you two went at it.

He began to move himself down your body, taking more time to lavish your breasts with his tongue and his lips before he licked into your belly button triggering a giggle to bubble out of your mouth. He placed his hands on your hips and dug his fingers under the elastic band at the top of your underwear and began to pull at them, to which you lifted your hips so he could tug them off.

Smoothing his big palms up the outside of your thighs to your hips he kept his eyes on the glistening space between your legs and puffed out a breath, “This is all mine tonight?” He looked up at you and it was dripping hedonistic lust as his thumbs slid down over the soft flesh of your pelvis.

You nodded and breathed out a yes before he slowly poked his tongue out to lick his lips and lowered his mouth to the space next to his thumb, a warm kiss smushed into your skin before it sliced a damp path inward to your mons. You were spinning and blubbering under him as he gripped onto the underside of your thigh and held you apart.

Your body was trembling before he even laid his tongue over your pussy but when he finally pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to your clit you could have just perished right then. You balled up the blanket under you in your fists as he began to run his tongue up and down your wet pussy.

You sputtered out a string of curses and rolled your hips up when he slid his fingers over your entrance and prodded in.

“Mmm…” he lifted his face to look up at you, “Y/n… you’re so wet for me. Gonna need to sneak tastes of your pussy anytime Colin isn’t around.”

You couldn’t respond other than to moan his name and thread your fingers into his hair when he reattached his lips.

There was something about the way Harry did it, the way he licked at your pussy and kissed your clit, the way he drove his fingers into your cunt and moaned over you that was so sultry and hungry… it was like he needed it, like he was desperate for it. For you.

The house was quiet. It was lucky Colin slept like the dead when he got drunk like that or you’d have to worry about him hearing. But as it was, Harry’s bedroom was filled with the sound of something lewd and wet and achy. Moans coming from you and from him, your pussy getting worked by his fingers and his mouth, the shift of bodies over blankets and the subtle creaking of his bed as he dug into your pussy with more fervor.

 And you really tried not thinking about the way Colin did it versus how Harry was doing it but you were amazed at what a little enthusiasm could feel like. Colin ate you out, sure, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t a man with a primal need to make you feel good and stake some kind of claim on you. Colin’s method was more like a means to an end. A way to get you nice and wet so he could stick his dick inside of you.

Harry’s method was an animalistic craving. He wasn’t eating you out nicely with a soft tongue and a few slurps. No. This was something else. He was devouring you. Sloppy and sopping. He dragged his tongue over you like it was his fucking job. The one arm he had wrapped around you, was anchoring you to his mouth. You couldn’t escape him if you wanted. This man wasn’t taking it easy. When he lifted you slightly, he scooted in closer and removed his fingers from your pussy and licked up the wet spots on your inner thighs and down your bum before he spread you back open with two of his fingers again and got back to ravaging your clit.

You had to release his hair and go back to gripping the blankets as you felt your body wash away into the atmosphere, floating and buzzing and melting as you lay helpless under his weight and his tongue.

You were certain it was going to be a mess when he was done with you. There wasn’t anything dry between your legs nor on his face. The heat and the moisture rose until there was nothing left for you to do but come. And come and come…

He had his fingers pressed into your front wall massaging your g-spot as he sucked and drew your clit into his mouth. You couldn’t stop shaking or crying for what felt like minutes upon minutes.

But then it was too much and you squeaked a laugh as you tried lifting and pulling away but when you pushed at his forehead he swatted you away and grunted, not letting up on the doggish way he was eating you.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Harry!” You bellowed into his room and tried closing your legs and moving to roll to your side but he had you pinned down and it seemed only to egg him on. His eyes flitted up to yours and in warning to keep still, not that you had much choice. He wasn’t budging nor letting you pull away from his mouth as he continued fucking you with those long fingers and lapping all around your hot, pulsing clit.

But then you saw the slight smirk as he lifted for air before he dove down again and slid his tongue quickly over your clit and the sensitive, too-much feeling turned into a liquid ache and then desire as you felt you second orgasm begin to prick and burst until it was forced out of you like a torture method. Come or else…

So you came again. Not against your will but not by your own accord. It was automatic. You couldn’t stop it from happening.

You were drifting into the ether when he finally, fucking finally, pulled his mouth and his fingers away. When you opened your eyes he was smirking down at you, like he was proud of the state he’d left you in.

“What?” You croaked out as your chest heaved violently.

“I’m serious. Gonna need to do that to you as often as possible. Whenever Colin’s not looking. Damn you’re hot, Y/n. Fuck…” he ran his hands over your sides and up your torso to your nipples where he circled over them with his thumbs, “Wish I’d gotten to you first.”

You pushed yourself to sit up, “You… he’s your best friend, though. I mean… I just think…” you huffed, not fully having your wits about you after what he’d just done to you, “God… I wouldn’t be able to say no, but this is bad, Harry. Don’t you think this should be a one-time thing? Like, we should never do this again, right?”

You watched him lick his lips and swallow and that’s when you noticed he had your arousal down his neck. The guy had gone in so intensely on your pussy that you dripped down his neck. You supposed he had reason to be proud.

“We’ll see, won’t we? I’m not a great friend, I’ll admit. But you’re not a great girlfriend either are you? Doing this behind his back the way we are… it’s bad, but fuck if I don’t want to steal you away from him.”

You puffed a laugh through your nose and ran a hand over your face. You couldn’t believe you were cheating in the first place. It was insane. You weren’t a cheater.

But actually… you were a cheater. You were lying in your boyfriend’s best friend’s bed completely naked and freshly zonked from two orgasms. You were absolutely a cheater.

Harry pulled at your thigh, dragging you closer to him and he cradled the back of your head with his hand and kissed you so deeply you nearly forgot Colin’s name for a moment. You could feel his erection, stiff and hot against your inner thigh and you were compelled to run your hand over his boxers to grip him and feel it in your hand.

You gasped into his mouth and parted from the kiss to look down at the monster you were holding in your palm. Looking back up at Harry with your lips parted in lust you were suddenly hyper-aware that the man you were in bed with was going to fuck you with that thing and if he was as good with his cock as he was with his mouth… you were surely doomed.

“What is it?” He asked you with hooded eyes and a syrupy, deep, lusty voice. He knew what it was. The man was more than aware of the kind of advantage he had in that area.

You squeezed around him let your palm travel up the length of it over his boxers and pressed over his tip, “Let me see it.”

He grinned at you silently as he pulled at his boxers and brought them down, his thick shaft lobbing out, heavy and stiff. You let out a moan and moved back, getting to your knees and holding him at the root against his pubic hair before tonguing over him and drawing your saliva down the length of him.

Harry hissed as he leaned back, palms flat against his mattress as he watched you suck on him for a moment, lips working over his tip and wetting him with your spit. You moaned again and pulled off of him, “God, Harry. Fuck…”

He held the back of your head as you dipped down again and took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gorging on the taste and feel of him. It was smooth and hot against your tongue. He was wide, bulbous. But you couldn’t help the way just the look and feel of his cock had your already weeping pussy flutter and clench at the thought of him driving into you with it.

“You like that, don’t you? God, you’re supposed to mine, Y/n. Oh fuck that feels good…”

Your insides were feeling too hollow, your walls straining together to feel something that would take up the empty space. You popped off of his tip, saliva dripping down your chin, “Fuck me. Please.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, “Already? You don’t need a minute to recover? You that greedy, baby?”

“I am right now,” you pulled at his boxers to get rid of them. Harry put his hands into the band of his underwear and took them off completely.

“Just right now? So tomorrow we’ll go back to normal then,” he crawled over you, making your back hit the mattress as his hand found your tit, “Pretend this never happened and never do it again, yeah?”

You panted and reached around his back to pull him down, “I don’t know…” you whined and bucked your hips up, “Just… right now is all I can think about. Please…”

“A bit cockdumb huh? You’re not thinking straight, are you?”

You scrunched your face and pouted, “What? Just fuck me, Harry!”

He grinned at you and shook his head in disbelief, “No condom then?”

You’d forgotten. You were always so good about using condoms and being the one on top of that decision with Colin. Only a few times did you ever let him fuck you without one and it was only when you were 100% sure it was not during your fertile window and he wasn’t allowed to come inside you anyway.

“Fuck…” you breathed out and whined as you raised your hips upward, pressing your wet pussy against his cock, “Just fuck me. I don’t even care right now. I’m gonna lose my mind…”

Harry grabbed your chin and his eyes pierced into you as he spoke, “Are you on birth control?”

You shook your head, “No. But… god…” you writhed under him.

Harry let out a burst of a laugh, still shaking his head, “Damn. Did I do this to you? Baby you’re gonna regret it if you let me fuck you raw. That’s asking for trouble.”

“Just… goddamnit…” you closed your eyes and groaned. You wanted him right then. You were sure you’d never acted like such a slut before but Harry’s body and his deep voice, his eyes, the way the front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours… He could just slip right in and pound away and you’d feel all of him. Every ridge and wrinkle, hot velvet gliding through your gummy channel, drinking him in…

When you raised your hips again, your eyes on his he nudged himself down toward you, his cock sliding through your pussylips, slicking up and down and jabbing at your clit you clung to his back tight.

“You want it? Like this?” He placed his forearm down on the bed alongside your shoulder as he rocked down over you, his tip traveling over your pussy and getting drenched in your juice.

“Mmm… Harry… yes…”

He softly kissed your lips as he rutted up and slid back, “You’re gonna let me fuck you bare? In this bedroom right here, next to your boyfriend’s? You sure?”

You nodded, your nose bumping against his as you breathed out the word please.

He parted from the kiss and set his eyes on yours as he flexed his thighs and poked at your hole gently with his tip. He teased you for a bit, only gently pressing just the very tip of himself into you until suddenly and all once he forced his crown through your tight, pulsing muscle, opening you up and burying himself in until his balls were tucked against your ass.

You both let out a loud and pathetic mewl at the sensation and you could feel him shaking already. It was decadent and rude and sumptuous and unbearable. It was so wrong. So bad but so fucking delightful.

He began to slowly thrust as he kept his gaze pinned to yours, “Okay? Feel good?”

You moaned as you nodded and kept a tight grasp on his back, wrapping your legs around him so you could keep yourself grounded. So that you knew it was real. That Harry was actually fucking you with his big cock and you weren’t just dreaming it.

“Yeah? Feel all of me like this, don’t you? Needed me so bad and now you’ve got me, baby. Gonna give you my cock whenever you want it. Sneak around behind Colin’s back and keep it secret. He’ll never know. Could fuck you all night and all morning and he’ll wake up tomorrow with no idea of the filthy kind of girl you are.”

“Mmmm… fuck!” You whined as he plunged deep inside your guts. You’d never had anyone so thick and long before. And it was just a bonus that it was attached to a man like Harry. It shouldn’t have surprised you that someone with the kind of confidence he had would be so hung.

“Mmmm… fuck is right… that feels so fucking good. I had a feeling your pussy would be made for me,” he panted his words as he worked into you, thighs flexing against yours.

Your noises were uncontrollable. You had no ability to restrain yourself. You truly were intoxicated, incapacitated, obtunded. Delirious. Which Harry seemed to get a kick out of.

“You’ve never had it like this before, have you? I know what you had to deal with,” he gasped when you gripped tight around and dug your nails into his back, “Colin’s a lazy boyfriend. You need more attention and I can see that. Gonna give you all the attention you can handle if you want it, Y/n…”

Harry pulled back, making your legs fall from his back as he lowered his lips to your tits, curling himself over you as he continued fucking into you, sucking your nipples into his mouth and running his tongue over your sensitive nubs one at a time.

It was debauched gluttony. Harry was so much better in bed than Colin and it almost wasn’t fair. But you couldn’t even feel an ounce of guilt because it was the best thing you’d ever felt. Harry sucked your nipples hard as his cock wrecked your insides, running his hand along the outside of your soft breast and then to the other side, continuing the pace at which he rocked into you. His bed only creaked in time with his thrusts, slow and steady, but the sound of your sodden pussy taking his big cock was salacious and lewd.

Every stroke of his long dick through your pussy walls felt like damnation and salvation all at once. You weren’t sure you’d be the same after. Weren’t sure you wouldn’t be begging him for more every time Colin wasn’t watching. Harry had ruined you.

Harry’s gasps and pants against your tits grew more desperate and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, nudging deep into your tummy and slowly rearing back, his cock coated and sticky with you before plunging it all back inside of you again.

He steadied himself, lifting up to look down at you as he began to fuck into you a little harder, his bed bouncing a little more with the sound of skin slapping together and your punched moans filled the room.

Every time he buried himself in he ground his pelvis against your clit and it sent fireworks through your nervous system. You grabbed onto his thighs as he rutted into you, deep and desperate strokes that split you wide open and made you drool it felt so good. Harry’s chest was sweating as he held your hips down and circled his groin against you, his moans growing louder and whinier as he watched you slowly come undone.

“Give me another one, baby. Show me how good it feels when I fuck you. Better than it’s ever felt with anyone else…”

Harry had something to prove.

You could hardly think straight. The man was fucking out any logic or sense in your brain but you didn’t want to have rational thoughts that interrupted what was happening. You wanted Harry and his cock. You wanted to be fucked by him just like he was for all time. To hell with Colin and his sorry excuse for lovemaking. Harry was a real man with pleasure to give.

The breath was kicked from your lungs when the tight coil in your tummy began to unravel and the yummiest, most transcendent orgasm you’d ever experienced began to take over. The only thing you registered was Harry’s cock pounding into you and words of encouragement egging you on as the mattress squeaked violently under you. His words were unclear but you could hear the starved and whimpery moans falling from his mouth between words.

You trembled and quaked as you spasmed over him, the glide of his heavy cock through your guts squelched and ached as you gasped for air and finally began to discern what was happening when Harry frantically pulled his cock from your pussy and climbed over you, taking your face in his hand and dipped his pussy flavored dick into your lips where you felt him pumping warm, creamy come down your throat and onto your tongue. You grabbed onto his ass with both hands and pulled at him, beckoning him to stuff his whole fat cock into your esophagus.

The grunts and moans he let fall from his chest were the sexiest thing you’d ever heard from any man. Colin wasn’t vocal at all. When Colin came he’d pinch his face up like he was in pain or disgusted by the flavor of something and silently sigh with his mouth open.

But Harry… Harry wasn’t holding back. He was moaning as he thrust his cock into your mouth and slapped his hand on the headboard to steady himself, “Fuck…”

When you’d siphoned every drop from him, he gently pulled his meaty cock from your mouth and you coughed, gasping for air. Harry laid himself on the bed next to you and cupped your cheek, “You all right,” he panted.

You moaned and wiped the back of your hand over your mouth and rolled to face him, “Yeah I’m all right. Better than all right I’d say.”

Harry laughed, moving his hand from your face and fondled your breast in his palm, smushing at it and thumbing over your nipple, “You down to keep doing this with me?”

You sighed and ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be craving that from now on.”

He grinned, “Be craving what?”

“You. The way you do it. I…” you laughed, “I’ve never come three times in a row like that for any man.”

“So you want me to give you lots of cummies?” He snorted a laugh, “Need me to take care of you when Colin can’t.”

“When you say it like that… god it sounds so bad doesn’t it?”

“It is bad, Y/n. We are two very bad people who just did something very awful to someone. But I certainly don’t want to stop.”

“I mean… I don’t know if I can stop now. That was…”

“The best.”

You nodded. It was the best. And you knew you’d have regrets and the guilt would come at some point. But in that moment after being expertly fucked and properly taken care of you could think of nothing better than to do it again and again and again. As often as you could get away with it.

“How long do you think we can keep doing this? Like we’ll have to be lying all the time and sneaking around.”

“If we’re quiet and sneaky enough, as long as we want.”

You bit into your bottom lip and giggled, “That was a smart move. Not coming inside of me. Was gonna let you, ya know.”

Harry sat up with a smirk, “I know you were gonna. But I think fucking my best friend’s girl raw is quite enough mistakes for one night. As much as I wanted to fill you up we’ll have to save that one for a rainy day.”

You sat up with him, clothes all strewn about on the floor and at the foot of his bed, “A rainy day, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Harry pinched your thigh before hopping off the bed out of your reach with a laugh, “And I think it’s only fair that you sleep in here with me tonight,” he slid his boxers up his legs, “Colin’s not gonna wake up until late so we’ll have plenty of time before he’s conscious.”

Harry tossed you his t-shirt and you pulled it over your head, “Why’s that only fair?”

Harry shrugged, “Cause I like to cuddle and Colin’s passed out so might as well let me have some since I probably won’t get to do it very often.”

You slid off his bed and pulled your arms over his shoulders, “That’s kind of sweet, Harry.”

“So you’ll stay in here with me tonight?”

“Without a doubt.”

You were both so fucked.

If you're interested in more of this series consider joining my Patreon where there are already 12 parts posted! xoxo

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[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

girlfriend? - spencer reid x fem!reader

reader wonders why exactly she's not spencer's girlfriend and he's more than happy to play along

genre: fluff and maybe kinda sorta comfort?? wc: 739 warnings: reader is younger and has never had a boyfriend, mention of roommate, awkwardness??, new relationship, kissing, reader uses physical affection to distract spencer, "i'm fine" no you're not!!!, insecurities and simply spencer being a cutie

my very first time writing fanfiction and posting my writing!!! please give feedback

After a long day of daydreaming and a rather upsetting conversation with my roommate, I've come to realize that I'm technically not Spencer's girlfriend. I mean, he's never asked me to be. Of course he's sweet and we've kissed several times but he's never formally asked. I've never had a boyfriend so I just assumed that one or two dates ultimately meant together. Apparently that's not right. Maybe I'm overreacting and maybe I'm not cut out for this dating thing but why hasn't he asked? We can hardly go a day without seeing each other. Doesn't that mean something? Maybe I'm insane because that's highly likely, too.

Although anticipating it, I still jump when he knocks. The door opens and it's clear that he came straight from work, his messenger bag on his shoulder. Like every other day, we walk straight to my bedroom and he leaves his satchel on the same old cushioned chair.

Spencer places his hands in his pockets, his eyes floating over me dubiously.

"Are you alright?"

Well, that took all of three seconds.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I answer, fiddling with my pajama shorts' strings. There's no way I'm turning psycho-not-even-girlfriend on him because he hasn't defined our relationship. Because of the chance he doesn't want me to be his girlfriend, that's a conversation I'm not having.

His eyes narrow and he steps closer. "You're fidgeting, avoiding eye contact... not to mention that you've hardly spoken to me since I've got here which is just... not you at all. You always talk."

"Hey!" I frown.

I watch as his hands come up to hold my face and I begrudgingly look him in the eye only to find concern. "Did I do something?" he asks softly.

My head shakes in his hands. He drops them. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He notices the emphasis, following me when I go to sit on the edge of my bed. I'll never get over how out of place Spencer looks in my room.

His eyebrows raise as he looks down at me. I feel like I'm in trouble. "But I did something apparently."

"Nope," I hum simply, pulling him down by the tie to mush our lips together with little grace. The reciprocation was fleeting, his mouth briefly opening only to move away as fast as it came. "See? I'm fine," I grin unconvincingly.

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong," he sighs, stuck between worried and annoyed.

He steps back, eliciting a whine from me. My eyes drop and I figure that I might as well dance around it since I'm a terrible liar. Picking at the loose string on my comforter, I murmur, "do you... um... you like me, right?"

Confusion draws his eyebrows together. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Honestly, I'd be crazy not to. What told you I didn't?"

"I'm not your girlfriend," I whisper pathetically, eyes never leaving my fidgeting fingers.

I can practically feel the realization hit him. A shaky breath that never quite becomes a nervous laugh leaves him before he responds gently, "I haven't asked you to be. Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

My head finally lifts, a slight frown on my lips as I nod.

"Will you be?"

My eyes go wide and I freeze. "What?"

He laughs softly, walking a few steps closer before crouching down to my level. "Will you be my girlfriend... please?" he asks politely, a tiny smile on his face.

I nod eagerly before I can do anything else. When words do come out, they're frantic like I can't get them out fast enough. "Yes! Yep! Mhm. Please."

This time, when I kiss him, he doesn't hesitate or pull away, he smiles, hands finding my face and brushing away any stray hairs. A thought occurs and I break the kiss, thumbs brushing his cheeks. "So... why didn't you ask before?" I ask almost absentmindedly.

He swallows and very gently mutters, "I didn't know if you'd want me to be your boyfriend."

I can feel my heart melting as I press a soft peck to his mouth. How did he not know? Isn't the way I'm constantly nervous obvious to him? I'm not exactly good at masking anything.

"Of course I did. I do. And now you are my boyfriend so how about that?" I smile and he does too.

"I'm glad," he laughs.

"Me too."

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 6)

Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: ab riding, general horniness

A/N: well guys, it only took like idk 4 months and a lot of bullying but here she is! I hope this lives up to your expectations.

I wasn’t planning on doing this but it’s my birthday, and so, here is my gift to you LOL

Let the smut commence ;)

~

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?” 

Your head whips towards the husky drawl that you had become very familiar with over the last few weeks. Paige’s voice had an effect over your entire body. Your belly would roll in want and your cheeks would heat up, spreading down over your chest and settling into a pool of unbridled want. 

Paige Bueckers had ripped away every single inhibition you had clasped to your entire life, and you were now standing with the shreds of your past life laying at your feet. 

She had come into your life, teasing you first with the edits on your phone and passing glances before slamming you into a delicious fantasy, rivaling those in the romance books you liked to read. 

She had taught you to open yourself up, to learn how to please yourself and her. She had taught you that it was okay to let yourself fall head over heels, and to stop intentionally keeping yourself from happiness to protect yourself from the unknown.

So, here you were, throwing yourself to the wolves, and not giving a single, flying fuck. 

You had never been happier. 

Paige had caught you in another fantasy. It was difficult to not get caught up in her. And even though you had the real deal dancing right in front of your face, the shame of admitting some of your more filthy fantasies was the reason you were keeping your mouth shut.

You clear your throat in an attempt to keep from stuttering, your voice wavering as you try to swallow the lust brewing in your body.

“N-nothing.” 

Fuck.

Paige looks at you suspiciously, grabbing her towel off the bench next to where you were currently daydreaming and wiping off a bead of sweat that was traveling down her toned stomach.

Paige had begged you to come watch her practice, and you had put up a fight, knowing she liked to practice in just a sports bra. Paige’s abs had been at the forefront of your mind for the past two weeks, taking over any rational thoughts.

You were a very focused person, and you always had been. Your grades were phenomenal, but your mind had been hijacked by images of pale, toned flesh. And you did not know how to stop it. 

Your eyes trail to Paige’s stomach, and your tongue peeks out involuntarily, sweeping over your bottom lip in a wanton fashion that did not go unnoticed by the blonde. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teases, sitting down on the bench and leaning into you, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You got that horny look in your eyes again,” she deadpans.

You splutter, desperately trying to find the words to defend yourself against her wildly astute observation. 

She laughs, the sound echoing loudly through the empty gym. 

“I like your abs,” you mumble, unable to keep eye contact from the embarrassment of your confession. 

“You do?” Paige questions, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

You look at her with a disbelieving look. “Well, uh, yeah…” you trail. You pick at your fingernails, feeling anxious from the conversation. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Paige pulls you into a searing kiss, distracting you from your racing thoughts. She licks into your open mouth, unspoken promises swapping between the two of you as you make out in the empty gym. 

“You could always ride them,” she suggests casually, a glint in her eyes giving away her practiced air of nonchalance. 

“Who’s the horny one now?”

~

You were definitely still the horny one, it seemed, as you laid in bed later that afternoon, panties soaked as you found yourself completely swept up in the idea of riding her. The thought had invaded the more rational side of your brain, and you were now being bombarded with filthy images of your sopping pussy dragging across Paige’s abdomen.

Last month you were a hopeless virgin. And now here you were, wanting to ride Uconn’s most beloved basketball star. 

You had made the decision before it even registered in your love drunk, horny-as-hell brain, and before you could stop yourself, you were marching across the hall to Paige’s apartment to demand that she take off her shirt and let you have your way with her.

Politely, of course. You weren’t an animal. 

You enter, not even bothering to knock, and you head towards Paige’s room. She was sitting at her desk, headphones on, and working on a paper for a class. 

She looks up with a smug smirk as you linger for a moment in the doorway, your reservations slamming back into you. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and hopeful, mixing deliciously with the want pouring from your pupils. 

Paige swivels in her chair, muscular legs spread dominantly, inviting you to perch primly on her thigh. She pats them, beckoning you to come to her. Your legs pull you towards her, your thoughts clouded with need, and you sit in her lap, curling into her presence. 

She strokes your cheek, her thumb rubbing across your soft skin in a way that has you sighing in pleasure as you sink into her warm embrace.

“You wanna ride me, don’t you?” She whispers against your ear, her breath sending anticipatory tingles down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you whimper, your voice catching as she begins tracing patterns onto your inner thigh close to your dripping pussy. 

“So polite f’me, aren’t you, baby?” Her voice is thick with want and husky. You wanted to drown in her words. 

“Please,” you whine, the word hanging on your tongue in a pathetic lilt. You were too desperate to care, the overwhelming need brewing in your pussy overpowering the anxiety you felt earlier. 

“Get on the bed,” Paige instructs, and you do exactly as she says, scrambling off of her lap and going to sit on the edge of it. She stares at you for a moment, wordlessly contemplating her next move as she runs a hand across her jaw, admiring your blatant display of submission. 

“Such a good girl,” she states, and the praise sends your head spinning. She stands up and walks right up to you, your eyes peering up curiously in a futile attempt to gauge her next move. 

“Clothes off, baby,” she says, and you waste no time pushing your leggings down your thighs and tossing your t-shirt onto the floor, leaving you in a lace bralette and a thong that was obviously soaked from your own arousal.

Paige notices, and as you lay down, she traces the damp spot with her finger, sending a jolt through your body as your swollen clit feels her touch. 

“Who got you this wet?” She questions, wanting you to tell her just how much you needed this. 

“You. Only you,” you reply breathlessly, already squirming under the heat of her touch. 

“Damn right,” she brags, tugging your bra off and leaving you nearly naked. Your nipples get even harder in the cool air of Paige’s bedroom before her warm mouth attaches to your right tit, licking and biting. 

You moan at the contact, your hands finding her stomach as she sucks hickies to the underside of your breasts, your fingers stroking over the flexing muscles underneath you. 

She was wearing too much clothing, and you whine in protest, begging for her to take off her clothes so there’d be less of a stark power imbalance between you. 

Her mouth leaves your skin as she kneels to take off her shirt and sports bra. Your pupils dilate as you get full access to the creamy skin and rippling muscles that you had become so fond of. You pull her down to meet you in a lustful kiss, moans pouring out of both of your mouths and echoing off of the walls in a passionate display. 

The arousal was building up in a way that was almost painful for you. “Please, need you so bad,” you cry, already trying to get on top of her. 

“I gotchu, baby,” she teases, shedding herself of her sweatpants and her boxers and laying down on the bed, head against her large pile of fluffy pillows. 

Your soaked thong gets thrown on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes, leaving you fully naked. The afternoon sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains highlights your own arousal leaking down and coating your inner thighs in a way that was downright provocative. 

You straddle Paige, who guides your hips with strong hands anchoring you. Your hair is thrown over your shoulder, ass up in the air as you try to find a good position. 

Paige settles you down onto her stomach, immediately flexing. You gasp as you feel the tight abdominal muscles under your pussy, the feeling foreign and naughty. 

You drag your hips up and down, looking down as you see the aftermath of your dripping arousal pooling onto Paige’s skin. 

You were already panting, the erotic act leaving you needy and desperate to cum on top of the blonde girl. 

“C’mon,” she smirks. “Move those hips, ma.” 

And because you’d do absolutely anything Paige requested of you, you got to work creating a steady rhythm, alternating between grinding down onto her taut stomach and dragging your slick pussy up and down the length of it. 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, already nearing the brink of pleasure. “So, so good.” You were babbling, your thoughts clouded from the overwhelming sensations, fucked out and chasing your impending orgasm. 

Paige slaps your ass, one hand still gripping the flesh of your waist, the jolt of pain rushing through you, turning into pleasurable sparks. 

You lean down to connect your lips in another heated, sloppy kiss as you near the edge. Your movements lose the fluidity, and Paige, noticing, grabs your hips with a strong grasp and helps you ride out the final few strokes before you cum with a loud cry of her name on your tongue. 

Your hips stutter as you become overstimulated, your swollen clit begging for a break from the friction. 

Your breaths are ragged as you come down from your high, moving your hair out of your face and meeting Paige’s, who was grinning widely. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” she declares, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You giggle, still in shock, and you go to move off of her, your eyes widening as you see the amount of slick you left behind. 

Without thinking, you dip your head and lick a line up her abdomen, tasting the salt of her skin and your own arousal, and Paige’s breath hitches as your tongue traces her abs. 

“Oh, you’re definitely the horny one in this relationship,” she rasps, unsure if you were still the same timid girl she had met last month. 

You reach up to place a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’m okay with that,” you whisper.

~

Please let me know what you think! And as always, my inbox is open for requests or whatever else.

xoxo katy

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[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 1

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

---

Steve's parents always locked their hearts in a safe in his dad's study at night.

For as long as Steve can remember, he watched them do it, pulling their hearts out of their chests and tucking them away in the safe in an easy, practiced motion - like a dance, like something they did without even thinking about it.

He liked it, liked watching them move in unison. It made him daydream about his own partner in the future, how they could move in sync with each other, anticipating each other's every movement and not having to say a thing to know what the other wanted.

Even his parents’ hearts were similar. They were both the same pale pink, bisected with only a few silver scars, and though they didn't quite beat in unison, it was close enough that Steve's young eyes didn't notice the difference. 

“One day,” his dad always said. “When you're old enough, your heart will go in here, too. When you're trained to be separated from it, when you're grown up.”

Steve wanted to be grown up more than anything.

But his heart never looked like theirs. Even when he got old enough to pull it out of his chest, to first show it to his beaming parents, it was a deep, unblemished red.

A kid's heart, his dad called it.

“It's not a bad thing!” his dad was quick to say. “You're young, Steven, you should have a kid's heart. Go be a kid.”

He ushered him out to play with Tommy and Carol, pleased as punch when the three of them came home to get snacks.

“You've made the right friends, Steven, my boy,” his dad said one day, while Steve was in his study, watching him take his heart out of the safe and tuck it into his chest. “Tommy's not bright, but he'll do what you say, and Carol looks like she'll be taking after her mother. Find yourself a girl who fits in, and you've got the makings of the next generation.”

Steve didn't really understand what that meant, but he liked his father's approval, and Carol and Tommy were the best friends he could ever imagine, so he guessed it didn't really matter.

—

The first time his parents leave for more than just one night, Steve protests.

He grabs onto his dad's slacks, his mother's skirts, and refuses to let go.

“Steven,” his mother hisses, a warning clear in her voice.

“Little tyke loves us so much,” his father says to his business partner, who’s waiting in the front hall. There's something in his voice that Steve's never heard before, something in his eyes that makes a chill go up his spine. “Give us a minute to say goodbye.”

His parents argue in his father's study. Steve hasn't been allowed in, so he doesn't know what they're saying, but he can hear the tone, knows it's angry. 

He's not sure what he did wrong, but it must be something, so when the door opens he flinches. 

Mom doesn't look happy, but she doesn't look unhappy, either, and Dad looks pleased, so he guesses it must not be something too bad.

“Come on, Steven, my boy,” his dad says, ushering him into the study. “I think it's time we trusted you with something.”

Steve perks up, eagerly following his dad into the office and over to the safe.

“Now, you know we lock our hearts in here every night to keep them safe,” his dad says.

Steve nods. “One day mine will be in there too.”

“That's right!” His dad is smiling again, but there's still something lurking in his eyes that makes Steve nervous. “But it's not just at night. We keep them here when we go away, too, and we need someone to stay here to keep them safe.”

The idea of being trusted with something so important outweighs the lingering nerves, and Steve lights up. “Me?”

“Of course! You're our son, Steven, the best of both of us! Who else would we trust with it?”

They still leave him alone, after that, more and more often, but Steve doesn't mind.

They trust him, and he's not going to let them down.

—

Steve doesn't really like keeping his heart in his chest. It's okay, for a while, but the longer it stays the more it feels like it's trapped - like his chest is too tight and he can't breathe, like he's more alone than he's ever been.

He doesn't think hearts were meant to be locked away, but his parents tell him different, so he listens.

They're just trying to keep him safe, after all, trying to make sure he's smart and strong and doesn't get hurt. 

—

"Ugh," Carol groans. "I'm so tired of my mom asking to see my heart at the end of the day. Like, I'm in middle school now, I don't need her checking if my feelings have been hurt."

"Mine still does it, too," Tommy grumbles. "Dad keeps telling her to knock it off at least."

Steve can't remember the last time his parents wanted to see his heart. 

"Mine leaves me alone now," he brags, because it feels like he should, even if his heart clenches painfully. 

"You're so lucky," Carol says wistfully.

"Already king of the castle, huh?" Tommy asks, jostling him with his elbow.

Steve snorts. "Yeah? If I'm king, what does that make you two? Prince and princess?"

Carol wrinkles her nose. "Prince and princess are for babies," she says. "We're not kids anymore." 

"What are we, then?" Tommy asks.

"Duke and Duchess," she says decisively. "I've read about them, they're like the second commands. The king's advisors."

"Yeah," Tommy says, bobbing his head. "We're like the royal court. The three of us can take on anything."

"Hearts out," Steve says. "That's what my dad says you have to do when you're entering into an agreement."

Carol and Tommy obey immediately, holding their hearts out in the middle of the little triangle they make. Steve holds his out with theirs. All three of them are a vibrant red, plump and solid - Steve's is a little deeper, a little fuller, than both of theirs, but he figures that's okay.

He's the leader, it should be different. 

"Now what?" Carol asks.

Okay, so, Steve doesn't exactly know. Still, he can guess, based on what his dad has mentioned about his business partners, and he confidently says, "Now we make sure all of us are worth dealing with. Liar's hearts are black, and people with hearts too broken to function are full of holes and scars, and hearts with no color can't be trusted."

The three of them inspect each other's hearts closely, then nod at each other. 

"We need to touch them, too," Carol says. "My mom says that's what you do with people you trust."

Steve isn't sure about that, but he figures it can't hurt, so they rotate hearts - Steve's to Tommy, Tommy's to Carol, Carol's to Steve, and then around in a circle until Steve's holding his own heart again.

It did hurt, a little. But it didn't feel bad, just a little scary.

It's okay, though, because it's Tommy and Carol. His Duke and Duchess, the royal court.

They'd never hurt him. 

—

"Hey Mom?" Steve asks the next time she's home when he gets done with school. "Do you want to see my heart?"

"What for?" she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice that doesn't show anywhere on her perfectly made up face. "Has it changed?"

Steve's shoulders droop a little bit. He set himself up for this one. "No," he admits reluctantly. 

She hums softly, more a vague acknowledgement than anything else, and goes back to pinning her hair up.

His mom and dad must be going out somewhere tonight. 

"Can I see yours?" he asks, wanting - something. He knows they'll lock their hearts away for him to protect before they leave, knows how much it means that they trust him with that, but sometimes he just wants to see them.

"Of course, darling," she says absently, pulling it out with a practiced motion and setting it on the vanity in front of him. 

It's still exactly the same as the last time he saw it. Steve glances over at her, but she isn't even looking at him. He bites his lip, then reaches out to touch it, his hand resting gently on top of it. 

His mom flinches, just the tiniest bit, but doesn't tell him to take his hand away. 

Steve frowns. "Does that hurt?"

"It always hurts when someone touches your heart, Steven," she replies. "That's why you need to keep it in your chest, why you need to be careful about who you let close to it."

He considers that. "But you let me touch it anyway."

"Of course," his mom says. "You're my Steven."

He likes the words, and if he were a little younger, he thinks they might fill him with warmth, make his heart flush even redder. But he's old enough now to recognize that tone - the same tone she uses when he hears her on the phone with one of her friends or one of her clients, and she thinks they're being stupid.

Steve isn't stupid. 

He pulls his hand away.

If his mom's heart hurts every time he touches it, then he won't reach for it anymore.

—

Steve is in eighth grade when they learn that people can't travel far from their hearts without suffering any ill effects.

Tommy's watched Steve's parents put their hearts in their safe and leave for dinner out while he was staying over, and he laughs when their teacher tells them that.

"Something funny, Tommy?" Mr. Clarke asks.

"Well, sure," Tommy says. "It's just that isn't true, right Steve?"

"Right," Steve agrees earnestly, eager to show off his knowledge on the subject. "Or it's not always true. Some people can go miles away from theirs, I've seen it."

He says people, and not my parents, because he knows better than to drop personal information like that in the middle of class. 

Mr. Clarke had been frowning at Tommy's laughter, but something about Steve's eagerness makes him smile. 

"You have?" Mr. Clarke asks. "Tell me more."

Aware that everyone's attention is on him now, Steve makes sure to slouch casually - he can't look too invested. "Well, they didn't just leave their hearts out in the open and unguarded. They left them with someone they trust to protect them."

Mr. Clarke's smile grows, his eyes lighting up a bit in excitement. "Ah! You found the loophole. Steve's right," he says to the rest of the class, making Steve preen just a little bit. "Heart exchanges! People can travel much further from their hearts if they're safely tucked away in the chest of someone else. They can even survive things that might have been fatal, if their heart was in their own chest."

He gives a little chuckle. "There's even anecdotes of things like soldiers leaving their hearts with their fiances as they go off to war, knowing they'll be kept safe. Romantic, if unlikely. There's been no conclusive evidence of someone able to survive such a distance from their heart for so long, even with the loophole."

Steve frowns. His parents have been gone weeks at a time, leaving their hearts safe with him. 

"What about if it's locked away in a safe, and guarded?" Steve asks. "I know - I mean, someone told me that would work."

Mr. Clarke frowns a little. "Even more unlikely, I'm afraid. There's some studies that have shown people can train themselves to go further and further from their hearts, but still not without ill effects." 

Kevin sneers. "Well it sounds like someone is a liar."

Steve bristles. 

Kevin Carson is the worst.

He's a bully. Both in the way that his dad taught him the word - the kids who are too stupid to realize that brute force will only get you so far in life - and in the way that makes Steve's stomach turn a little, choosing to pick on people who can't fight back. 

The last two years at Hawkins Middle, he'd have never gone after Steve. But Kevin wanted to be basketball captain, and Steve got it instead, and now Kevin's been dogging him every chance he gets.

It's starting to get really annoying. 

Before Steve can say anything, though, Mr. Clarke's moved over to Kevin's desk, frown deepening.

“You know better than that, Mr. Carson,” Mr. Clarke says, in his disappointed voice. “We don't ridicule anyone's curiosity journey in this class.”

Kevin scowls, but he mutters out an apology. Mr Clarke watches him for a moment longer before nodding, moving back to the front of the class to continue.

"Teacher's pet," Kevin hisses at him, loud enough for the others nearby to hear but not Mr. Clarke.

Steve's never really understood why that was a bad thing - why wouldn't you want your teacher to like you? - but he knows it is, so he grimaces.

"I just listen to Coach better than you," Steve replies. "Must be why I'm captain this year."

Kevin's expression shifts into confusion. "What?"

"You don't keep your grades up, and you're on the bench for the rest of the year." Steve shrugs, leaning back so he can show how pointless this conversation is - and open it up even more for others to hear. "Aren't you looking at an F in Mr. Clarke's class? Maybe you should have more enthusiasm for your curiosity journey."

—

Tommy punches Kevin at lunch that afternoon.

Someone starts shouting, "Fight, fight, fight!" and Steve and Carol look at each other, realize they can't find Tommy, and immediately go where the crowd has gathered. 

It parts easily as Steve and Carol push through to the center, where Tommy and Kevin are squared off warily against each other. Steve tugs at Tommy's arm, and Carol shoots Kevin a look as she helps herd Tommy off to the side.

“What happened?” Steve asks Tommy, voice low and urgent. 

“Kevin was trying to rally some of the team against you,” Tommy spits out. “Said that they should get you around back, teach you a lesson about the way things are supposed to work.”

Steve's stomach twists. It's not surprising from Kevin, but the rest of the guys are his friends.

“Did they agree?” Carol asks sharply, eyes flashing.

“No,” Tommy says. “They told him to shut up. But Kevin was going on about how you're not captain material.”

Okay.

Okay, that's better, Steve can handle that. Kevin's persuasive, but Steve can be, too, and Steve hasn't been picking fights that make the team have to run drills when Coach gets pissed at them.

He leans away, pivoting back to face the group.

“Seriously, Carson, again?” Steve demands, not bothering to hide how irritated he sounds. "You remember Coach has a zero tolerance policy for starting fights, right?" 

"I didn't start anything, he punched me first!" Kevin says.

"That's not what I heard," Steve says conversationally. "I heard you talking to the other guys, trying to get them to jump me while my back was turned. Didn't know you were a coward, Carson. You got something to say to me? Why don't you say it to my face?"

Kevin draws himself up and gets in Steve's face, and Steve hears Tommy curse and start to move forward, but Steve holds up a hand. 

Steve's not scared of Kevin, and he doesn't want Tommy to get in any more trouble. He juts his chin out, tipping his head to the side so he can look down at Kevin - Steve and Tommy started their growth spurts early, and it's only by an inch or two, but they're the tallest guys here right now. 

"You gonna hit me, Kev?" Steve says softly. 

"Maybe I will," Kevin says. "Maybe it's the only way to put you in your place. Your daddy gets you out of everything, but he can't get you out of a black eye, can he?"

Steve's not sure where anyone gets the idea that his dad gets him out of anything. His dad barely knows what's going on with his life - but he guesses he doesn't really have to, guesses it's more about his dad's reputation than anything else. 

Still, it turns his irritation into anger, and just a little bit of hurt, and Steve finds himself smiling.

"Black eyes fade, Carson. You know what doesn't?" He leans in, lowers his voice a little. "How's <lyour dad gonna react when you get kicked off the team, huh? Yeah, we all know he was a high school star - it's all he ever was - what do you think he's gonna say when you can't even be that?" 

Kevin looks like he's a second away from shoving Steve, and for a moment, Steve thinks - yeah, go ahead, come on. The stuff he's saying? Steve deserves to get shoved. 

But Kevin doesn't.

Steve pitches his voice back louder. "Starting fights at school and flunking science? Not looking good for you to play at all the rest of the year, Carson. And anyone who's not playing now can kiss their spot on the high school team goodbye."

"Yeah?" Kevin asks. "Who's going to go blabbing to Coach?"

Steve shrugs, giving a disappointed sigh. "I don't like it, but it's my duty as captain to tell Coach when someone isn't being a team player." 

It probably isn't. Technically, Steve isn't even officially the captain - their coach just wanted them to be prepared for what it's going to be like in high school, and the players all voted Steve as their unofficial captain. 

But he knows that Coach will appreciate that Steve is taking it seriously, if he does tell him about anyone affecting the rest of the team.

"What are you even pissed at me for?" Steve asks. 

It's a genuine question - he actually does want to know - but it comes out sarcastic, and he can't backtrack it. 

"Passing science? Not letting you walk all over me in Mr. Clarke's class?" he adds. "Or are you just trying to get the rest of the team to be a bully like you? You want to get them in trouble, too?"

Carol hip checks him, and - yeah, okay, he sees her point, he needs to end this before Kevin has a chance to spin things back in his favor. 

"You're not worth my time," Steve says with a sneer.

There's a beat of silence.

"Didn't you hear him?" Carol asks. "You're dismissed."

Kevin tries to pull a sneer, but with his split lip it looks more like a snarl. "Who died and made Steve Harrington king?"

Carol examines her nails, the picture of boredom. "Your spot on the high school basketball team, apparently."

“Give it up, Kevin!” someone calls out.

“Come on, man, I'm sick of having to stay late at practice because of you, can't you just chill out?” Mark Jefferson bitches.

There's a chorus of agreement, and Steve watches Kevin's face as he realizes he's not going to get any backup here. Anger flickers briefly in his expression before he rolls his eyes, huffs out “Whatever,” and stomps off.

Now that there's not going to be a fight, everyone else disperses, leaving Steve alone with Tommy and Carol.

"You need to tell me and Carol before you hit someone again, okay?" Steve says seriously. "Let us handle it first."

"Yeah," Carol agrees. "You'll get in trouble if you do it all the time - you have to only do it when someone really deserves it. When we tell you."

Steve doesn't want Tommy to hit anyone, no matter what, but he guesses Carol's right. 

He'll just have to keep an eye on them.

–

When he's home, he goes straight to his dad's study and stares at the safe.

He knows the code, but part of him doesn't want to open it up. If they lied to him about this - what else have they lied to him about? Did they think he was stupid, did they not care if he ever figured it out? 

But he knows he has to, so he opens it up, and stares at what's inside.

Nothing.

Of course his parents didn't leave their hearts with him to watch over, and he feels like an idiot for having ever fallen for it. 

Something in his heart cracks, but he ruthlessly ignores it, slamming the safe door shut again.

He doesn't care, he tells himself.

His dad's an asshole anyway.

–

Nancy Wheeler is the first person to truly hold his heart in her hands, without it hurting the slightest bit.

It makes it even worse when she calls him bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and he feels his heart crack so deep he's not sure it will ever heal.

-----

Part 2

[arminsumi]

🔞 just geto

geto suguru is crowned best pussy eater and he has a tongue piercing and he has a dragon tattoo and he practices nunchaku shirtless and he listens to fall out boy and he prefers to have sex with the lights off and he's got a thick cock with a little bit of upwards curve and he knows how to slow dance and he enjoys stripping for you and he's actually a slut and he has a happy trail of dark hair creeping up his pelvis and he always offers you a bite of his food and warns that it's spicy and he also likes seeing you wear his big bulky white shirt and he also has a huge praise kink like please just tell him he's doing good and that he makes you feel like no one else and he also loves it when you admire his tattoos or trace them with your fingers and he also loves french kissing so you can feel his tongue piercing and also loves eating you out around the house and he practices martial arts shirtless and he shows off when you watch him because he wants you to look at HIS muscles no other man's muscles but HIS and he gives you bone-breaking hugs when he hasn't seen you in a while and he loves your cheek kisses and deeeeeeep down beneath that brooding boy exterior he's a softie who cries to ghibli movies and he also has had a DORKY ASS CRUSH on you ever since he was sixteen and first trailed along on a mission with you and satoru always teased him abt having a crush on his senior and the biggest fact of geto suguru is that he is so whipped for you and will be at your beck and call without even realizing or registering your command — he'll just say "yes my beauty" and fulfil all yours needs and requests

ok that's the suguru that lives in my daydreams. thought i'd share. what's ur suguru like? lmk 😌👍

[hoshifighting]

        jeonghan + 69

— yeah, maybe you’d thought about it before, those little fleeting daydreams when jeonghan’d brush by you in class or shoot you that sly-ass smirk. but this? him lying under you, practically begging for you to sit on his face? nah, that shit was reserved for wet dreams or some wild night out.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, 69, oral (f. & m. receiving), body fluids (cum, spit) , meanece!jeonghan, handjob, tit fucking.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you and jeonghan always shared those casual glances in class that turned into longer stares, harmless teasing evolved into suggestive comments. you’d never admit it, but you liked the tension, how every interaction with him felt like it was dancing on the edge of something much more dangerous.

and that edge came crumbling down one night after a ''movie session'' in your dorm that you were sure that would turn into something. when your bedroom door shut behind the two of you. maybe it was the wine he had chosen for this night, or maybe it was just the inevitable, but somehow you ended up in this mess—both of you undressing each other like you were starved.

“you sure about this?” he had asked, the barest smirk on his lips, like he already knew the answer. cocky bastard.

“don’t start,” you shot back, already feeling the horniness thrumming through your veins.

you are naked, sweating, jeonghan's hands gripping your ass like it's the only thing keeping him grounded, pulling you down harder onto his mouth. his tongue is relentless, lapping at your clit, swirling like he's trying to draw out every moan you've got in you, and fuck, it's working. his tongue's sticking out, his lips sealed tight around your pussy, and it’s wet, sloppy, the kind of mess you never thought could feel so damn good. you’ve given up trying to keep quiet—every breath's a moan, every sound, a curse.

he's moaning against you, vibrating right through your cunt, and you swear he's fucking smiling under there, a damn menace, all proud of himself because he knows exactly what he's doing to you. every little flick of his tongue, every teasing swipe makes you wanna scream, and when he squeezes your hips, pushing you harder against his face, you're not sure if you’re about to break or explode. it’s too much but nowhere near enough.

you’d started this, thinking you'd be in control, thinking you’d be the one making him cum first. jeonghan’s dick had been hard from the moment you started, his hips bucking up the second your mouth touched him, but now you’re the one crumbling. every time you try to get back to sucking him off, another moan rips through you, and your hand slips, cock slick and pulsing in your grip.

“fuck, jeonghan,” you whimper, voice muffled against his cock, and his laugh—god, his fucking laugh—is muffled right against your cunt, because of course he finds this funny.

you can feel him smiling against you, his tongue flicking faster just to get another reaction out of you. his fingers dig into your hips, guiding you into a rhythm, like he’s not about to fucking choke with the way you’re riding his face. you can’t help it—he feels too damn good, tongue hot and wet and persistent as it drags over every sensitive spot, driving you absolutely insane.

he shifts under you, his body tensing like he's trying to concentrate, and suddenly, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you from moving. “stop… stop trying to suck me off,” he grunts out, his voice all rough and breathless, like you’ve been torturing him. and maybe you have. but jeonghan never gives you time to think. “just sit on my face and moan for me, yeah?”

“uh-huh”

because you can't fucking help it when his tongue presses deep, slipping inside you just enough to make your entire body seize up, your hips jerking like you’re out of control, because all you can think about is how good his mouth feels.

his laugh’s muffled against you, and it’s fucking annoying how cocky he is even with his face buried between your legs. you can’t even say anything because his tongue’s doing that thing again, flicking your clit just right, sending this ridiculous wave of heat straight through your body. “god, jeonghan—shit—” you gasp, barely able to get the words out because you’re too busy grinding down on him, chasing that high that’s building way too fast.

his hands grip your ass tighter, pulling you down harder onto his mouth, and his tongue slips, teasing your entrance, swirling around just to make you lose it even more. you can hear him moaning now, too, like he's getting off on this, and honestly, you’re not even surprised. he would get off on making you fall apart like this. each time you moan, you can feel the way his cock twitches underneath you, and it’s soaked already, dripping from how you’d been sucking him off before he took over and wrecked you.

you try to focus, try to wrap your fingers around his dick again, but every time you get a grip, your hips jerk, and you lose it. it’s too hard to concentrate when he’s eating you out like he’s starving, his tongue relentless and quick, making you clench around nothing. you can’t even think anymore—all you can feel is his mouth on you, wet and messy, the sound of him slurping and sucking like he’s enjoying every fucking second of this.

“hannie...” you cry out, voice wrecked, and it’s like he fucking loves hearing it because his tongue just goes harder.

“you gonna cum for me?” he mumbles, voice muffled but still teasing, like he's proud of what he's doing to you. “c’mon, baby… lemme feel it, yeah? wanna taste all of you.”

your squeeze shut as the pleasure builds into something you can’t control. “fuck—jeonghan” you cry out, your voice breaking as your orgasm makes you melt on top of him. your entire body jerks, hips stuttering against his face, and you’re pretty sure you’re screaming his name, not that you can hear anything over the pounding in your ears. everything feels like it’s exploding all at once—your pussy clenching around nothing, your cum dripping down onto his tongue as he keeps licking you through it, groaning against you as he drinks up everything you give him.

you’re shaking, body tensing with every little aftershock as his tongue slows down, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even think about stopping, his lips still sealed around your clit, sucking gently, making sure he milks every last drop out of you.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse, and you can feel his lips curl up into that stupid smile again as he licks you clean, his tongue swirling around your entrance like he’s addicted. “could stay here all fucking night.”

but you don’t even get a second to catch your breath because the second you relax, collapsing forward on top of him, you feel his cock press against your tit, hot and leaking, and you realize just how close he is too. you shift, trying to push yourself up, but jeonghan’s quicker—one hand grabbing the back of your head, pressing you still, the other gripping your hip, and suddenly he’s bucking up into you, his cock sliding between your tits, wet and slippery with his own pre-cum.

“fuck… fuck” he moans, his voice breaking as he rocks his hips, chasing his own orgasm now. his cock’s so hard it’s almost painful, the tip swollen and red, and every time he thrusts, more pre-cum leaks out, slicking up your skin and making it easier for him to move.

you can’t help but smirk, even through your post-orgasm haze, because now he’s the one falling apart. you reach up, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow, just to watch him squirm. “you gonna cum for me, too?” you tease, your voice all breathy, but you can’t resist pushing his buttons. “c'mon, hannie, lemme hear you.”

“fuck—” his voice breaks again, his eyes squeezing shut as he thrusts into your hand, faster now, his moans getting louder, more desperate. “shit, i’m—fuck, i’m so close beautiful—”

a few more strokes, your thumb swiping over the tip, and jeonghan's gone, his entire body seizing up as he cums all over your chest, his cock pulsing in your hand, ropes of hot cum splattering across your skin. he’s moaning your name, low and breathless, his voice cracking with every thrust, and you can feel his body shaking beneath you as he rides out his orgasm, hips bucking uncontrollably as he spills every last drop onto you.

it’s messy, sticky, and so fucking hot. you don’t even care about the cum dripping down your chest because all you can focus on is the way jeonghan looks right now—hair all sweaty, lips parted, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, you smile biting your bottom lip as you watch him from your shoulder, his eyes locking with yours as he smiles, letting his head fall onto the mattress again, as you lay your head on his thigh.

[starglitterz]

♡ SPICY. // PART ONE

❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do

✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s

✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 

part one︱info︱part two

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  

✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 

✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 

✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 

✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 

✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”

✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”

✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 

✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 

✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 

GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[childrenofcain-if]

Picture this: ROs showing up to their morning classes looking slightly disheveled and quickly taking a seat. Little do they know that their necks are covered with hickeys left by MC the night before. Their reactions when people point it out should be priceless 😂😂

C LACROIX

C barely made it out of bed that morning, the remnants of the night still clinging to them like a warm, invisible string. they hadn’t even looked in the mirror beyond a quick pass of the toothbrush and mouthwash, hadn’t registered the faint bruises blooming like dark smudges on their fair neck.

it was an unusually rushed morning—coffee sloshing in its cup, a blazer haphazardly pulled on over yesterday’s rumpled button-up shirt, and the quiet contentment that still lingered under their skin from the night before.

the lecture hall was in that strange, early-morning lull, with only the few dedicated souls filtering in. C took a seat near the front of the lecture room, slouching down and letting their eyes drift, half-focused on the professor setting up for the day. the room filled up slowly, a dozen students murmuring, flipping open their notebooks, the usual dull hum of university mornings. C felt halfway to a daydream.

it wasn’t until ten minutes into class that the girl sitting directly behind them leaned in with a conspiratorial grin.

“hey, C,” she whispered, her gaze flicking from their bored green eyes to somewhere just below their jaw, amusement dancing in her expression. “had a busy night?”

C looked at her, eyes narrowing in confusion, and she just giggled, clearly finding some private delight in whatever she was looking at. the professor’s voice was droning on in the background about economic indicators, but C’s attention had slipped, irritation prickling.

“what are you talking about?” they muttered back, still bleary with early-morning fatigue. “your neck,” she said with a little wave of her hand, as if that explained everything. “care to explain what that is?”

C’s hand shot to their neck, feeling the skin warm under their touch. they hadn’t given it much thought, hadn’t even realized—last night’s memory a blur of laughter, close warmth, the heady closeness of you, but now it crystallized sharply in their mind. they could feel the heat creeping up their neck, but the words came out automatically, with practiced precision.

“this is a sign,” C said, raising an eyebrow and giving her a look that could have frozen rivers, “for you to mind your own business.”

the girl laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “all right, all right,” she said, but her smirk didn’t fade, and C could feel other eyes turning in their direction, whispers curling through the air like smoke. they slouched further in their seat, wishing they could disappear entirely and regretting the decision to sit on the front.

as the professor rambled on, C sat there fuming, each murmured glance another spark on an already frayed wick. what had you been thinking, they found themself wondering, though they knew perfectly well that you’d been thinking of nothing but the electric thrill of the moment, your hands in their hair, the quiet gasps and the blurred edges of night.

the guy two seats behind caught C’s eye and smirked.

“didn’t know you were the type,” he said, barely containing his laughter.

“what type?” C snapped, keeping their tone flat but seething inside.

“the type to walk around like a billboard,” he replied, nodding toward C’s neck. “seriously, you might want to invest in a scarf.”

C shot him an unimpressed look. “thanks for the suggestion, but i’m not taking fashion advice from poor people.”

the guy frowned in disbelief before huffing and muttering, “whatever, rich prick.”

class dragged on, the ticking of the clock like nails on a chalkboard. C tried to keep their head down, but the whispers and glances only seemed to get louder. every time they caught someone’s eye, there was that same smirk, that same knowing look that made C want to snap, to tell everyone to go back to their notes and leave them the hell alone. but of course, that would only make things worse.

by the time class ended, C was practically out of their seat before the professor had even finished dismissing them. they strode out of the room, head down, hoping to avoid any more looks or comments, but of course, luck wasn’t on their side. just as they stepped out into the hallway, someone else called out.

“nice look, C,” a girl from one of their other classes teased, looking far too pleased with herself.

C sighed, letting out a sharp breath. “you know, there are more interesting things in this world than staring at my neck.”

“oh, but it’s the most interesting thing we’ve seen all semester,” she shot back, laughing, her friends joining in.

C rolled their eyes and kept walking, feeling the last shreds of their patience fraying. they practically stormed down the college halls, footsteps echoing, each step a reminder of the mess they’d somehow gotten themself into. and all because of you, they thought, though they couldn’t bring themselves to be truly angry. there was a part of them—a very small, very hidden part—that was secretly pleased, that liked the quiet claim your marks had left on their skin.

finally, they found a quiet corner, pulling out their phone with a sigh. it only took a second to find your name, to start typing a message they hadn’t planned to send but couldn’t hold back any longer.

they kept it short, precise: “i hope you’re happy with the unwanted attention i’ve been getting today.”

your reply came almost immediately, as if you’d been waiting for it.

“oh, i am,” you texted back, and C could almost picture the smirk on your face, the gleam in your eyes. “plus, it’s not like you’re complaining.”

they scoffed, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of their mouth despite themselves: “you’re an idiot, starkid.”

“you still didn’t deny it though,” came your reply, and C shook their head, slipping their phone back into their pocket.

they straightened up, brushing a hand over their neck as if that could somehow erase the marks before walking back to their dorm to do something about it.

V NÆSHOLM

V was already late, stumbling out of their dorm with a heavy book clutched against their chest, their fingers pressed tight to the leather cover like it was a lifeline. they’d overslept, an unusual occurrence, the morning alarm buried somewhere under last night’s fog of dreams and restless shuffles in bed. their curls were a bit of a mess, the hem of their shirt tugged half-untucked in their rush to get dressed. V didn’t bother with a mirror—they rarely did—just shoved their notebook into a worn leather bag and hurried out into the crisp morning.

the classics lecture room was already half-full when they slipped in, doing their best to keep their head down as they found an empty seat by the window. they fumbled with the zipper of their bag, pulling out pens, notes, the creased corner of an assignment they’d meant to retype. a couple of glances flitted their way, but V paid them no mind, assuming it was just the consequence of arriving late—not their usual style, but excusable, they supposed. they hadn’t quite noticed the warmth still lingering on their neck, hadn’t registered the faint marks, those tiny bruises left by your lips in the hazy hours of last night, each one like a dark cherry painted on their skin.

professor caldwell’s voice began to drone on from the front, and V dropped their gaze to the desk, willing themselves to focus, to let the rhythm of greek declensions and conjugations drown out the lingering warmth that tingled through them. you had laughed about their major, half-joking about the language of romance and poetry while your mouth traced along the curve of their neck, each word becoming something soft, quiet, reverent in the dark. they thought they could still feel it, could still remember the press of your hands against their shoulders, the unguarded look in your eyes that made V feel both completely exposed and utterly safe.

across the room, someone leaned over to their friend, whispering something with a smirk, and V felt the faint prickling sensation of being watched. they glanced up, catching the raised eyebrows, the conspiratorial gleam in their classmates’ eyes. V’s face warmed instantly, but they managed a small, polite smile before dropping their gaze back to their notebook, convinced that if they focused hard enough, they could make themself invisible.

it wasn’t long before someone inched closer, a girl from their study group, flashing them a look that was equal parts amused and intrigued.

“V,” she whispered, leaning in, “looks like you had an eventful night.”

V blinked, taken aback. “an eventful night?”

she gave them a playful grin, tilting her head just enough for her eyes to drift to the side of their neck, and suddenly, V felt the weight of her gaze as if it were a burning mark itself. they pressed a hand self-consciously to their skin, realizing with a jolt what she must be seeing—the faint outline of each mark you’d left, the soft purples and blues etched into their dusky skin.

the girl’s grin widened, and V could practically feel the heat creeping up their neck, staining their cheeks.

“i– it’s not–” they stammered, words tumbling over themselves in a futile attempt to explain something that needed no explanation. “it’s just… nothing!”

she laughed, a soft, knowing sound that made V feel like every inch of them was under a spotlight.

“sure,” she replied, her tone teasing. “nothing at all.”

another voice piped up from across the room, this time one of the guys they vaguely recognized from last semester, watching them with a smirk. “get it, V!”

V felt their heart sink, the warmth on their cheeks intensifying as they desperately tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone. they wanted to disappear, to melt into the seat and let the floor swallow them whole. this wasn’t like them—V, quiet and unassuming, the one who read too many old texts and held onto thoughts like secrets. they could hardly bear the thought of all these eyes on them now, each one reading the evidence of last night like an open book.

professor caldwell finally took note of the murmuring, glancing up from his notes with a frown. “is there something particularly fascinating happening in the back of the room that i should know about?”

silence fell, and V took the opportunity to bury themselves deeper in their notes, trying to will away the warmth in their cheeks and the prickling awareness that your mark on them had become the morning’s unspoken headline. they could feel every sideways glance, every whispered comment, as though it were written in neon across their skin.

when class finally ended, V was the first out of the room, slipping through the hallways as quickly as they could, every step carrying them further from the embarrassment of those lingering glances and raised eyebrows. they found a quiet alcove near the library, leaning against the cool stone wall, finally able to breathe.

V closed their eyes, a quiet, helpless laugh slipping out as they leaned back against the wall, feeling every inch the awkward, bashful mess you somehow adored.

W OSTENDORF

W stumbled into their morning cinematography lecture, barely awake. they hadn’t even glanced in the mirror before dashing out of their room, their shirt collar slightly askew, blonde hair tousled in a way that looked less artful and more accidental. their eyes were ringed with the faint shadows of sleep deprivation, deep-set from too many late nights and one too many bad dreams. they’d long accepted that sleep, for them, was like an old friend gone missing.

W slipped into a chair near the back of the room, hoping to fade into the background. but, almost immediately, they felt a tap on their shoulder. they turned, meeting the curious gaze of bailey, one of the classmates they usually talked to. they were already leaning in, their eyes bright with mischief.

“W…” bailey said, a sly smile creeping up their face, “so how was it?”

W blinked, looking back at them with a blank expression. “what?”

bailey stifled a laugh, glancing pointedly at W’s neck. “i’d be more concerned about covering those up if i were you.”

confused, W’s hand drifted to the side of their neck, their fingers brushing over what felt like faint ridges in the skin—tender and, unmistakably, hickey-shaped. last night came back to them in fragments: the soft press of your lips against their skin, the warmth of your hands, and the way W’s heart had beat so fast it was like it was learning to keep time for the first time. they could still feel it—the gentleness of you, the careful way you’d mapped out their skin, the way you had filled the empty spaces in them like sunlight spilling into shadows.

“oh,” they mumbled, barely audible, color rising in their fair cheeks as they finally understood what bailey was implying. they fumbled with their winter coat, as though it could somehow cover up the evidence. but it was too late; bailey had already seen, and so had half the classroom, if the muffled snickers and side-glances were any indication.

W swallowed hard, trying to suppress the urge to shrink into themself. it was one thing to carry the memory of last night like a secret tucked close to their chest, but it was another to have it branded on their skin, visible for everyone to see. “with a reaction like that, i’m curious now,” bailey whispered conspiratorially. “who was it?”

W was too flustered to answer, too aware of the heat creeping up their neck. they just shook their head, mumbling something incoherent under their breath.

they could practically feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing down on them, and it was unbearable. the classroom had never felt so small. they wanted to disappear, to dissolve into the air and float away. their fingers tightened around the edge of their desk, knuckles white.

just as they were beginning to think they might actually combust under the weight of it all, professor shah finally started the lecture, mercifully redirecting everyone’s attention to the topic of 60s cinematography. W tried to focus, to let the professor’s voice anchor them, but they kept getting distracted by the faint brush of their own fingertips against their neck, as though they were reassuring themself that last night had been real.

but the worst part, the part W couldn’t admit even to themself, was that somewhere beneath all the embarrassment, there was a strange, inexplicable warmth in their chest. it wasn’t just the memory of you; it was the fact that, for once, they felt like someone who mattered. you had looked at them like they were more than a bundle of nerves, more than a collection of protruding ribs and insecurities. you had wanted them, had left marks on them like an artist signing their work, as though to say, “this precious one belongs to me.”

W kept their head down for the rest of class, pretending to take notes while their mind wandered. they thought about your laugh, the way it filled up the quiet spaces between words; they thought about the constellations embedded in your eyes, a collection of universes unknown. and even as their skin burned under the scrutiny of their classmates, they couldn’t help but feel a kind of ridiculous, unsteady happiness, as though they were holding a fragile piece of you.

after class, as W gathered their things, bailey caught up with them again, their eyes dancing with barely-contained laughter.

“whoever they are,” they said, leaning in with a grin, “they did a number on you. you look like a jackson pollock painting.”

W managed a small, awkward smile, brushing them off with a half-hearted shrug. “i… thank you? i think?”

but bailey just laughed, giving them a pat on the shoulder before they sauntered off. W watched them go, exhaling a long, shaky breath. the hallway stretched out in front of them, crowded with students milling about, voices echoing in the familiar buzz of conversation. they felt oddly detached from it all, like they were drifting, the world around them softened by the memory of you.

when they finally stepped outside, the winter air was like an ice pack against their flushed cheeks. they pulled their coat tighter around them, but they couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. even in their embarrassment, they felt lighter, their heart buoyed by the quiet assurance that they had been seen, and known, and wanted.

for a brief, foolish moment, W wished you were there beside them, walking through the crowded hallway, your shoulder brushing against theirs. they imagined the feel of your hand slipping into theirs, the easy way you would laugh at their embarrassment, and they felt a surge of something that was both longing and contentment.

D DIACONU

D showed up to their morning music class like they did every day: with a sort of effortless swagger, their bag slung over one shoulder, hair messier than usual, and the faintest grin ghosting their mouth as though they were carrying a secret joke. they slipped into their seat near the back, collapsing into it with the practiced nonchalance of someone who had perfected the art of looking utterly unfazed.

to D, mornings meant more than just a groggy start; they were an opportunity to blend their night life into the mundane day, to turn the hours of dawn into some blurry prequel that nobody else needed to understand.

what D didn’t realize, though, was that last night had left its mark in more ways than one.

the professor was droning on about music theory, the class settling into its familiar rhythm, when senne, a friend sitting beside D, leaned over, his eyebrows quirked, mischief lighting up his eyes.

“good morning to you,” he murmured, his voice low, his smile mischievous. “do you, perchance, have a good mirror at your dorm? you can borrow mine if that’s not the case.”

D glanced at him, half-interested, arching an eyebrow. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

senne snickered, nudging his chin toward D’s neck, gesturing without making a scene but just enough to catch D’s attention.

D frowned, hands drifting to their collarbone almost instinctively, fingers brushing over their neck. the memory of last night washed over them—your lips, your hands, the way you laughed softly against their skin as if every touch could be a confession. in the hazy, half-lit memory, the feel of your warmth and weight lingered as though it had seeped into them. but that feeling, that heated moment, had seemed so ephemeral, so fleeting, something to fold up and pocket away by morning.

D’s fingers brushed over the skin—the sensitive spots, the small, faint bruises where you had left traces. hickeys. and not just one.

a dozen memories flashed in their mind. the way you had leaned in, your mouth grazing the edge of their collarbone, the laughter that bubbled up in between breaths, a hand gripping their shoulder. D’s smile faltered, turning instead into a half-smirk as they let their fingers drop, trying to play it cool even as their face warmed.

senne whistled quietly, leaning back with a knowing look that made it clear he wasn’t going to let this go. “you lucky dog.”

D shrugged, attempting to look bored but failing to disguise the slight, pleased flicker in their eyes. “well, i’m not going to deny that.”

at that, senne’s eyebrows went up. “oh, believe me, it shows. whoever they are, they really… left their mark, huh? quite a possessive one you got there.”

D rolled their eyes, feeling strangely irritated under the scrutiny of both Sam and a few other classmates who had caught on, now sneaking glances and stifling laughs. the professor continued to lecture in the background, blissfully unaware of the scandalous distraction sitting right in front of him. metronomes would wait; apparently, D’s love life was more important.

“i didn’t ask for you to take a guess,” D murmured, voice low and defiant, as if the room wasn’t filled with people trying to catch a glimpse of the faint marks you’d left on them. they tilted their head, defiant as ever, lips pulled into a smirk that only grew when senne laughed.

“not my fault you’re wearing your social life like a badge of honor,” senne retorted, giving them a playful nudge. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you be okay with people giving you hickeys.”

“maybe this person’s special,” D shot back, pulling the collar of their leather jacket up just a bit. “or maybe i don’t particularly care about it anymore.”

as the professor continued to lecture on how music was seen as a blessing from the gods, it struck D as amusingly fitting. aphrodite would have approved, they thought with a sly grin, leaning back in their chair with a certain satisfaction, a sense of belonging to a story larger than themself, even if just for a night.

the professor’s voice carried on, explaining some about some more old instruments. D tried to focus on the words, on the way they wove together in that heavy, ancient way, but every phrase seemed to loop back to you. your eyes. your teeth against their skin. the way you’d whispered things that only mattered in the small hours, words that vanished with the dawn but left their mark all the same.

senne leaned over once more, whispering, “so, is it, y’know?”

D smirked, tilting their head as though considering it, as though they didn’t already know the answer.

“maybe,” they said casually, but there was a knowing glint in their gray eyes. “i’d prefer not to reveal anything yet.”

senne chuckled, rolling his eyes, but there was a part of him that seemed genuinely curious, almost as if he wanted to know what it was like to be seen the way D was seen last night—to be held and marked and claimed, even if just for a moment. of course, he was thinking about emerson again.

when class ended, D stood up, brushing off senne’s continued teasing, rolling their eyes with a smirk that was equal parts cocky and lazy. they didn’t bother to fix their collar again, didn’t try to hide the hickeys. Instead, they let them be—little maroon trails of a night well-spent, reminders of a heat they’d carry with them through the rest of the day, a secret in plain sight.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

M slipped into their philosophy class with the quiet poise of someone determined to avoid attention, a little bleary-eyed from the night before. they moved with the precision of a dancer, even half-awake, shoulders straight and head held just high enough to nod politely to the few classmates they recognized.

it had been one of those endless nights, where time seemed to slip in and out of itself, conversations trailing into dawn without ever quite stopping, hours blending until they felt like one long and breathless moment. M had walked to class still caught in the residue of that night, smiling privately, replaying your smile, the warmth of your hand, the way you’d leaned in close with that unmistakably needy glint in your eye.

they slid into their seat, adjusting their collar out of habit, but the faint ache at their neck went unnoticed in their early morning haze. they didn’t see the subtle bruises—purple shadows kissed onto their skin like reminders of you. but someone else did.

“morning, M,” murmured eli, who sat next to them, their tone riddled with a soft irish accent. they eyed M’s neck for a second too long, their gaze slipping toward the faint trail of hickeys there before they looked away, poorly disguised laughter on their lips.

“good morning, eli,” M replied, their usual courtesy unfazed by the glances and whispered chuckles around the room. they didn’t catch the murmurs, or the sneaky glances, still thinking of last night—how you’d wrapped them in your laughter, how you’d left them breathless with the reckless ease that only you had.

it wasn’t until professor dunbar, a tall and somewhat intimidating figure with a penchant for socratic questioning, entered and began the lecture that M started to catch on. he looked right at the royal, paused, and then coughed, almost as if trying to conceal a smirk.

the entire class seemed to ripple with an electric, almost surreptitious amusement.

finally, one of the other students, a lanky guy named oliver who was known for his bluntness, leaned over. he barely whispered, though, letting his voice carry to others seated nearby. “your highness, didn’t know you were the type to show up to class wearing your nightlife around your neck.”

M blinked, feeling the words settle before they fully registered. “i beg your pardon?”

they touched their neck absentmindedly, but as they felt the faint bruises beneath their fingers, realization spread across their face. the warmth of last night’s memory filled them again, and there was a warmth in their cheeks that couldn’t quite be disguised.

oliver grinned, looking far too pleased. “you’ve got souvenirs, nice.”

M’s hand dropped, and they straightened, composure slipping for just a heartbeat. a rush of images flooded their mind—you, under the dim lights, your lips lingering on their neck, the world a comfortable blur around you both. they felt exposed in a way that was unfamiliar, like someone had opened a book they’d meant to keep closed.

eli leaned over, their voice gentle with a thread of teasing. “they suit you, actually. just… remember to cover it before class next time”

M managed a demure smile, lifting their chin slightly. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

eli’s smile widened, but they said nothing, only gave a small shrug as if to say no worries.

M could feel their heart thundering under the calm mask they usually wore, wondering how they could possibly explain to these people how it felt to be with you. how every touch had felt both wild and intimate, like a shared whisper that neither of you could ever forget. there was no explaining to eli or oliver or anyone here how your presence lingered, how it was both comforting and thrilling, how you’d looked at them like they were someone worth keeping close.

the professor’s lecture drifted on, dissecting concepts of ethics and purpose, but M’s mind wandered. they half-listened, still feeling the ghost of your touch, remembering the twinkling of your eyes in the small hours of the night. when the lecture ended, and they were finally free to leave, they lingered, half-expecting another comment, another nudge from a classmate.

instead, it was eli who sidled up to them, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “so… who was it, mate? don’t be shy now.”

M raised an eyebrow, almost amused by their persistence. “i’m afraid i can’t disclose that, eli.”

eli shrugged, undeterred. “fine, keep your secrets. but hey,” he added with a knowing smirk, “they must be something else if you’re willing to come here wearing their love bites.”

for a second, M considered dismissing eli with their usual reserve, but something in them softened. they allowed a faint smile, a rare and almost too-open thing, as they looked toward the door, already picturing you there. “yes,” M said, their voice a quiet warmth that made eli blink, momentarily thrown by the softness in their tone. “they really are something else.”

[authorhjk1]

Is it just me or is taeyeon just getting more slutty the older she gets. Her clothing, her style, expressions, etc. Like she’s so horny and just can’t wait to get fucked once she gets back home.

Sunbae #2

As Taeyeon ages, her body changes. She never really cared for sex that much. At least not more than other women her age. But her body knows that she isn't having kids. And it's longing for that. Her womb is in need of sperm and her pussy is begging for cock. For cum.

Taeyeon does her best to suppress all of that. She's scared that, once she actually has sex with a guy, she would lose control. And she can't give up her career right now. She's worked too hard for that. So Taeyeon helps herself with toys. Her entire bedroom drawer is filled with them. She even has those that use a similar liquid to cum, just so she can satisfy her desire to be bred just a little bit.

But her body can tell that she is trying to trick it. By now, Taeyeon can't leave the house for too long, without constantly daydreaming of the guys she walks past. And she is desperate for their attention.

Almost every night, Taeyeon lies in her bed. The wet spot underneath her, the bed full with toys. All evidence of the battle she is slowly starting to lose. And every night, she stares up at the ceiling. Eyes out of focus, but still wide open. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she recalls her actions of the day. Why did she dress so slutty? Why did she move like this? Why does she wink and smirk so much in the direction of her male fans?

After her dance practice and a shower, Taeyeon used the wardrobe of SM to get herself a new outfit. She is now standing in front of the mirror, visibly in shock. Her eyes trail along the long, revealing slit on the front of her top.

How could she even think about wearing this? Anyone who's slightly taller than her, would have a great view of her tits. But then again....

"No, no, no. Get yourself together, Taeyeon."

She mumbles to herself, knowing she really is losing control of herself. But she can't go home now. She has a vocal lesson in ten minutes. With herself as the teacher. Taeyeon catches herself drooling a little as she thinks about her junior. If she could just....

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts.

Eight minutes later, she stands in front of the mirror once again. Taeyeon's jaw drops as she looks at herself.

Why is she only realizing now how slutty this makes her look? It looked cute, when she picked it out. She groans in annoyance, disappointed by herself. But there isn't time to change now.

"H-Hello, sunbae."

You start to stutter from the moment she turns around. You came in after her, still sweaty and heavily breathing from your dance practice.

"You're on time. I'm happy you didn't forget your favorite sunbae."

Taeyeon winks at you and your heart skips a beat. This never happened to you before with girls your age. The last person who made you feel this way...

Sooyoung. Taeyeon's bandmate.

"O-Of course not. But would you mind if I changed my shirt? It's completely wet after practice."

You pull at it a little to demonstrate how it sticks to your skin, while holding a new one.

"I don't mind at all. Go right ahead."

Her reassuring smile doesn't falter and she doesn't look away when you're about to pull your shirt over your head. You hesitate. Taeyeon is now just staring at you.

Taeyeon licks her lips as you lift your shirt. She watches how you reveal your abs. A product of countless of hours spent in the practice room. A too familiar tingle arises inside of Taeyeon. The older woman can feel it in her core. Almost like a predator, her eyes follow your every move.

In the back of her mind, her consciousness screams at her. That you're her junior. That this could ruin her career. That you're way too young for her.

But Taeyeon's primal desire to be bred has taken over by now. Her arousal is hightened even more, when she remembers what Sooyoung told her. She never thought of this before, because before, she had herself under control. She had morals.

You don't witness anything of her internal war with herself. But once you can see again, you realize that Taeyeon isn't standing in front of you anymore. You look down. And there she is. Staring at your crotch, licking her lips.

"S-Sunbae?"

"Hmm?"

Her eyes are glued to your clothed cock.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"I don't think this-"

"I guess I will just help myself."

Taeyeon murmurs more to herself than you.

A moment later, your pants are around your ankles. And your underwear quickly follows.

"Oh, yes."

Taeyeon coos, her eyes closed as your cock lands on her face.

"It's so heavy."

She sighs, her lips forming a slight smile.

You are surprised that Taeyeon would ever do something like this. Never in a million years you would've thought that your vocal lesson today would start with your cock lying on Kim Taeyeon's face.

The older woman doesn't move for a while. You feel her breathing against your cock, until you realize, she is taking in your scent. Your smell makes Taeyeon's pussy tingle. She knows that this is how she will satisfy her unquenchable lust. At least for a small while.

You shudder as her tongue darts out. It touches your cock. You let out a shakey breath as Taeyeon opens her eyes again.

"It's so big and tasty."

She goes cross-eyed as she looks up at it.

"Sunbae..."

Your voice is weak as you're unable to fully comprehend what's going on. Is she drugged or something?

"I've waited so long..."

She takes another deep breath, inhaling your scent even more.

Almost painfully slow, Taeyeon starts to actually lick your cock. Her tongue glides along your shaft. It flicks against your tip, it reaches your base, it covers every inch of your cock. The whole time, your dick rests on Taeyeon's face. Her smooth skin makes this experience even more pleasurable. The feeling of her, breathing against your cock, makes you hold onto the wall next to you.

"What a yummy cock."

She whispers as she finally backs away a little. With a disappointed groan from you, your cock slides off her face. It's now pointing at her lips as she stares down at it. Taeyeon's eyes slowly wander towards your balls and you can see her eyes glisten with lust and need.

"They look so full. Do girls your age not drain you properly?"

Taeyeon sounds genuinely concerned.

She let's a finger trace over the skin of your sack, while she looks up at you.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of that. I'll need all the cum you have in there."

Her lips reach your cock and Taeyeon starts to properly suck you off now.

Your legs buckle at her skillful blowjob. She isn't using her hands, like a lot of other idols would. She lets her lips glide straight down to your base, before she backs up again and repeats the process. Her tongue doesn't stay idle, roaming around underneath your shaft.

"T-T-Sunbae..."

You almost slipped up, almost calling her by her name. It seems like you can't say anything else anyway.

"Noona is enough, baby."

Taeyeon keeps blowing you, her eyes now focused on yours. Her slow, sensual work reminds you a little of Sooyoung. But this is different. Taeyeon seems to know every spot she has to touch. She seems to enjoy worshipping your cock. How it feels in her mouth, when she takes it all without gagging. How it rests on her face, when she lets it fall out of her mouth and leans forward, just so she can feel it on her skin as she licks at it.

"Oh, god."

You've never felt this good before. Taeyeon does everything right. She does more than you could eve except of someone. She seems to know your cock better than even yourself.

But you can tell that Taeyeon's lust and thirst for more increases by the second. And eventually, she does stop. Despite losing that wonderful feeling, you don't complain. You almost came right there.

"I need you to eat me real good, baby. Can you do that for noona?"

You quickly nod and Taeyeon gets off the ground, while you lie on the couch. Your view looks incredible.

Taeyeon's pants are quickly gone and you find her sitting on your face. Only a pair of white push buttons hold her top in place, right above her core. You quickly pull them apart, revealing Taeyeon's dripping wet pussy.

A lustful, almost dangerous moan escapes her lips.

You get the hint and quickly dive into her pussy. It tastes delicious. Her slick juices coat your taste buds with peach like flavor. Her weight presses down on you, forcing you take all of her pussy at once.

"That's a good, hobae."

Taeyeon sighs as she feels your tongue inside her cunt. She slowly grinds her hips against your face. Although she likes the feeling of getting eaten out quite a lot, this isn't what she is here for. It's not pleasure shee seeks. Taeyeon needs to be bred.

"Baby, can you do something for me, huh?"

You nod into her pussy, making her squirm.

"C-Can you fill up your noona? Can you do that for her?"

She sounds like she is talking to a toddler.

"Can you please nock up your noona?"

You gulp as she finally reveals what she really wants. You expect it to just be a kink of hers. That she just wants to pretend to get nocked up.

When you finally say yes, Taeyeon has already moved from your face to your cock. Just as you agree, she drops herself on your hard cock.

"Oh, god!"

Taeyeon's eyelids flutter, her eyes roll back, her mouth hangs open. It has been so long since she last had a real cock inside of her. Her toys just can't compare.

Within a matter of minutes, Taeyeon rides you, like there is no tomorrow. Her pussy threatens to strangle your cock as it clamps down around it, whenever she drops herself onto you. Her pace is too quick for your taste. You want to enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy the fact that you are actually having sex with Kim Taeyeon.

But Taeyeon's old self has already been lost from the moment she first laid eyes on your cock.

"I can feel your hard cock throbbing, baby. Don't waste a drop. Fill my slutty pussy with your cum."

Her riding and her words drive you closer towards your orgasm. You won't be ale to hold it in for much longer.

"Put a baby in me. My body needs it."

Taeyeon whines and you start to realize that she isn't joking. That this isn't a kink. But you can't believe this. That would be way too risky. Or is Taeyeon already too far gone to care? And what would you do, if you actually impregnated Kim Taeyeon?

"Noona, I don't think we should-"

Her tight walls shut you up. You can feel how they try to milk you dry.

"No, baby. No, baby. No, baby. I-I need it. I need it so bad."

Taeyeon strokes your hair with one hand, as if she is trying to calm you down, while the other still rests on your chest, supporting her weight.

"I need to feel it in my womb. I need that seed of yours. Make a mommy out of your noona."

Eventually, you can't hold yourself back anymore. It wasn't a matter of if you cum anyway. It was only a matter of when you would cum. And that moment is now.

As Taeyeon keeps riding you, your hips buck upwards.

"Yes, baby. I know you want to put a baby in me. Do it. Fill your noona with all of your seed."

As Taeyeon moans her lewd words, you finally cum inside of her. Rope after rope of your cum paints her pussy. Her insides are white within seconds. The warmth makes her shudder on top of you.

"God, baby. I can feel it flow into my womb."

Taeyeon holds her tummy, her eyes closed. She can feel how her body does everything in its power to get her pregnant.

"What a good hoobae I have."

She sighs, her mind only focused on one thing.

---------

Hi guys!

Couldn't hold myself back after I got those asks and thought about the idea a little too long. I'm gonna do my best to write some more, so you guys will hopefully get a couple of longer fics soon.

I'll also post a small masterlist post, similar to the ones I did for other series, for a new series with SNSD. You guys will have to wait for the first chapter though, since I'm focusing on the other fics first. Just doing this, so you guys know what's coming, because I want to involve you guys with the plot a little bit more, probably through polls.

Stay healthy!

[littlefireball]

ʏʜ|[ᴍ]|ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ

ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ (ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ)|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴏᴍ/ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ|ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏɪɴɢ|ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ (ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴢʏ ᴛᴏ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀ~)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.1ᴋ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇʀᴠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x 9ᴛʜ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

"Y/N, your legs." Yunho pointed out. You and he were currently practicing 'Sector 1,' a particularly challenging section for your movements. Your legs appeared disconnected from your hips, creating an awkward spectacle as you danced.

"Ugh, this is so difficult," you groaned, placing your hands on your hips.

"It's not as tough as it seems. You just need to concentrate on this part…" Yunho stepped in closer, positioning himself behind you, effortlessly gliding his legs to demonstrate the correct motion.

"Wow, you make it look so simple," you replied, a bittersweet smile creeping onto your face. He responded with a grin, his gaze sweeping over you, absorbing every detail. Your hair, your chest, your hips… every part of you captivated him. He recalled how that snug tank top accentuated your curves, enhancing the allure of your chest; how your hips moved gracefully with each dance step…

You were so damn beautiful. He couldn't help but wonder how you would appear beneath him. It must be a sight to behold.

"Yunho?" Your unexpected question jolted him from his wandering thoughts, leaving him momentarily speechless before his eyes met yours.

"You space out." 

"Ah..it's just daydreaming." 

"You okay?Are you tired?" 

"Ah…no…no worries." He swallowed hard, his heart still pounding in his chest. his mind filled with only one thought─you. You could sense the guilt and anxiety lacing his words, yet beneath that surface, there was something deep swirling within him.

"Shall we continue?" You tilted your head slightly, maintaining a calm and neutral face, as if you were oblivious to the lust brewing in his thoughts.

"Yah, sure." 

The session began with the sound of music filling the air, but slowly, the rhythm and melody faded into silence. The voice echoing in Yunho's mind overwhelmed the sound of footsteps, fueling his insatiable desire. His gaze was irresistibly drawn to your bare collarbone, envisioning it adorned with kiss marks that were his alone. From there, his eyes roamed over the contours of your body, as if he yearned to etch every detail into his memory.

It must be nice to feel your warmth wrapped around his cock, bringing him endless pleasure. The allure of desire overwhelmed his rational thoughts, perhaps he didn't even put up a fight. He feigned a lack of rhythm in your dancing, inching closer with each beat. Your fragrance enveloped him, drawing him into an irresistible whirlwind from which there was no escape.

"You should sway like this." His hands glided up your arms, the warmth of your skin igniting a spark beneath his fingertips. In that fleeting moment of connection, a thrilling jolt surged through him, intoxicating and impossible to resist.

"Follow me." His thighs brushed against you, moving in sync with the music's pulse. His chest was firmly against your back, and you could feel your body responding to his proximity. Your heart raced beneath his fingertips, and the quickening rhythm sent a warm flush across your cheeks.

"Why so intense, hm?" His soft murmurs brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, while the warmth of his breath caressed your skin, igniting the long-buried yearnings within you.

The air between you and Yunho was thick with tension, your bodies swaying in perfect harmony to the rhythm of your unspoken yearnings. His fingers glided over your skin, igniting a surge of electricity that coursed through you, while his proximity stirred a deep-seated intimacy that you fought hard to suppress.

But as you stood there, your bodies pressed closely together, every fiber of you was hyper-aware of his presence, of the heat radiating from him, of the sound of his rapid breathing fanning against your neck. Your own body betrayed you, betraying your own hidden desires.

And that, in turn, only intensified Yunho's desire, compelling him to draw even nearer, as if the mere thought of any distance between you was unbearable.

"You need a lesson, y/n." Yunho whispered against your ear, the velvety tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and his hand, roaming hungrily over your body, burned like a white-hot iron against your skin. 

"A lesson, you say?" You managed to keep your tone cool and steady despite the storm of desire swirling within you. 

"Indeed." He breathed, his words a soft, sensuous whisper that sent tingles dancing across your skin. His hand continued its exploring path over your curves, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Each touch was deliberate, each caress calculated to stoke the flames burning deep within you. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, and was determined to awaken every nerve in your body.

His hand, warm and steady, traveled down your body, his fingers tracing a languid path along your skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat.

Yunho leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from your ear, and spoke again, his voice a low, husky murmur. "You're mine, remember?"

Your body quivered at the words, your heart racing within your chest as if it might burst through your ribcage. The possessiveness in his tone ignited a fire within you, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation.

"Yours..." you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"That's right." he whispered, his hand sliding lower to cup the curve of your hip. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own with every passing moment.

"And you know what happens to what's mine, don't you?"

You nodded, the heat in your cheeks intensifying as the implications of his words sank in. The weight of his gaze, the possessive grip of his hand—all of it was more tantalizing than you ever could have imagined.

"I do," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface.

He hummed approvingly, his hand tightening its grip on your hip before he pressed his body against yours, pinning you between him and the wall. The heat in his eyes was scorching, igniting a fire deep within your core.

"Good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His free hand found your chin, tilting it up so that your eyes met his, and there was a possessiveness in his gaze that stirred something primal within you.

"Now, show me just how much I own you." he instructed, his voice a low, commanding growl. His hand moved again, sliding around to grip the underside of your thigh, lifting your leg to hook over his hip.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden movement, and you grabbed onto his shoulder for balance. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his muscles, the tautness of his desire in the hand that held you firmly in place.

"You know I want you so bad." His hand slid further up your thigh, his touch searing even through the fabric. His body pressed more firmly against you, trapping you between him and the wall. You could feel how hard and deep his arched crotch nestled between your thighs as his knee forcefully pushed your thighs widen. You couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as a jolt of electric heat coursing through your veins. 

His hands began to move again, exploring your body with a casual possessiveness that left you weak-kneed. His touch was like a slow, torturous caress, each movement deliberate and calculated to heighten your need for him. You could feel your body responding, your heart racing and your breath quickening, your body craving his touch like an addict craved their next hit.

"I could have you right here, against this wall," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh. His hand moved higher, his fingers toying with the hem of your tank top.

Your breath caught, and you gripped his shoulder more firmly, your body trembling with barely restrained desire. The thought of giving in to him, here and now, where anyone could see, sent a flush of heat through you.

"But then everyone would know you belong to me," he continued, his voice a low, possessive growl. His hands continued their exploration, slowly tracing a path over the bare skin of your stomach.

You arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his touch. You were his, completely and utterly, and the realization only heightened the aching need building within you.

"Say it, y/n," he commanded, his voice a low, guttural growl. His hand moved higher, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your stomach, teasing the underside of your breast.

"I'm yours," you breathed, your voice hoarse with need, all thoughts of anything else fading away to leave only the heat and desire between you.

A deep, contented growl emanated from Yunho's chest at your words, and he drew nearer, his body melding against yours as his lips captured yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and insistent, while his hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you to intensify the kiss. You felt as if you were submerged in a whirlwind of sensation, swept away in the tempest of his desire.

He held you firmly against the wall, the kiss enveloping you, consuming you entirely, igniting a blaze of longing within your veins. Your body pressed against his, and you could sense the urgency of his need, the undeniable proof of his yearning for you.

As he finally released your lips, his mouth trailed a line of heated, wet kisses down your neck. His hands roamed your body, fingers sparking like fire across your skin, awakening every nerve ending.

"Need you now."  His longing surged like an insatiable blaze, devouring everything around it. In a moment of lost restraint, he tore your clothes away with a fierce swipe, leaving you exposed before him. His hands trembled as they moved toward his belt, fumbling to unfasten it.

The sharp click of the belt buckle releasing echoed through the stillness of the room, amplifying the charged atmosphere thick with desire. Yunho's gaze remained locked on yours as he methodically unbuttoned his pants, each motion careful and intentional, as if revealing something truly valuable.

Your breath hitched at the sight of him, your eyes lingering on the exposed skin, on the taut muscles of his abdomen, the sharp V of his hips. It took all of your restraint not to reach out and touch, to run your hands over every inch of him.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him. His cock slid inside your depth with a single, harsh move, making you let out a loud moan. The heat of his skin against yours was like fire, scorching and delicious, and you couldn't help but arch into him.

His lips found your neck again, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin. His tongue tracing a path down your collarbone, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh. His hands roamed over your body, possessive and demanding, claiming every inch as if afraid you would slip away from him.

He walked you backwards until your legs hit the sofa, and then he pushed you back onto it, following you down until he was hovering over you, his body trapping you beneath him. The weight of him, the heat of him, was overwhelming, and all you could do was gasp as he kissed you again, his tongue delving into your mouth with reckless abandon.

"Yu..yunho…!" A soft, muffled moan escaped your lips as his mouth descended upon your neck. He nibbled and kissed your skin, creating a series of deep red, mottled impressions that lingered in his wake. His tongue glided down your collarbone, swirling in the delicate hollow at the base of your throat before continuing its journey downward.You shut your eyes tightly as his cock ruined your velvet cunt. The way he battered your spot, the way his length rubbed against your wall, the vibration he caused when he let out a small growl were like a drug, making you desire for more. 

"Look at you, how beautiful." Yunho satback, his eyes raking over your body as he moved against you. His eyes explored every inch of you, lingering on your curves, the slope of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and finally stopped at your cunt. 

Oh gosh. It must be his favourite sight to see how your cunt tried hard to swallow his long length. He rocked his hip against you, watching how his cock slid deep and reached your spot. Each time your tiny moan left your tongue caused a wave of pleasure rushed over him. Damn it. He needed to record all of this, now. 

He leaned down to grab his phone that was placed on the sofa, accidentally pushed to the depth. You couldn't help but arch your back and moan loud as he was about to break your limit. 

"Damn…!Yunho!" "Oh fuck! It feels so good." He sat it back and opened the camera, aiming at your lower core before pressing the record button. He was drawn into the beautiful sight underneath him. The way you sucked him in drove him insane. Withdrew slightly, he plunged back with all his might. His pelvis pressed against your clit as he reached the deepest, staying for a while as he loved how you struggled to take him full. 

"Too deep, too deep..!" Your plea was just like a beautiful melody, his eyes darkened at your words. He drew back and repeated the same over and over again until he lost control and fucked you at an inhuman-speed. 

"Moan louder!Louder!" "I…I am so…close!!" "Let go, dear." Your body responded to his words, a wave of heat coursing through you. You were so close, teetering on the edge, and his touch was sending you flying further and further out to sea.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural growl. His fingers moved, finding the most sensitive spot between your thighs and rubbing in small, torturous circles. "Let go for me, y/n."

You let out a soft gasp, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, pushing you further and further toward that edge. Your hands curled into the bedding, pulling at the fabric as you felt the pressure building, tightening low in your stomach, growing more and more intense.

"I said, let go," Yunho repeated, his voice a low, commanding rumble. His fingers pressed against you more firmly, his touch knowing and deliberate, and you felt your body shudder, teetering on that edge for a moment, a moment that stretched and stretched, until finally…

The world crumbled around you, a tempest of sensations engulfing you, pulling you beneath its relentless waves. You breathed his name, your body arching off the sofa as a surge of searing ecstasy enveloped you. It was a deluge of rapture, consuming and blinding, leaving you momentarily adrift in a sea of pleasure, gasping for breath and gripping Yunho as if he were your only salvation. He anchored you through the storm, his eyes locked onto yours, his hands moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. His gaze radiated a mix of pride and ownership, and he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"That's my girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're so beautiful, y/n. So damn beautiful."

He shifted, moving to lay beside you on the sofa, pulling you close against his side. His arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as he continued to murmur words of praise and possession in your ear.

"You are so good…you're mine…all mine." 

You were boneless, your limbs heavy and your breaths still coming in ragged gasps. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of pleasure and contentment.

"Mine," he repeated again, as if to drive the point home. His hands were gentle now, his touch soft and soothing. He brushed a lock of hair from your face, his eyes filled with a tenderness that contradicted the possessiveness of his earlier words.

"And I'm going to make sure you know it," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. He nipped at your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your earlobe.

"No one else will ever touch you the way that I do. No one else will ever make you feel the way that I do." His hands moved down your body, a lazy touch.

"You're mine, y/n," he repeated, his voice a low, murmured promise. "For as long as I have breath in my lungs, you belong to me."

His touch was soothing now, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy, your body succumbing to the boneless exhaustion of pleasure-induced release. You snuggled closer to him, nestling your head in the crook of his shoulder, and his arms tightened around you in an embrace.

"Rest now," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "I've got you. I've got you, and I'm never letting go."

"As you are mine, dear."

—-----

"Hey y/n, sit here!" He patted on his thigh, gesturing to you to sit on him. Well, you had no right to defend him. He had your video, how you moaned and begged under him. 

You felt your heart skip a beat at his command. His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, and you knew instinctively that resisting would be futile. You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with heat, but ultimately, you obeyed, settling yourself onto his lap.

"Good girl." He murmured against your ear, his hot breath landing on your bare neck. "Play a game, hm?" You could only nod, letting him rest his chin on your shoulder as he focused on the TV. But, one of his hands slowly reached down, playing the hem of your top before moving down to your clothed clit. You hissed at his sudden move, drawing all the members' attention on you. 

"Don't fucking move." He warned you with a firm tone. "Or they will know Everything." You could only bite your lips, allowing him to stir your desire once again. 

"Good girl, so good for daddy." His low whispers echoed in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Now, you know. You could never, never, escape.

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

[curatedbyondrea]

The Art of Rest: 7 Invitations to Recharge Your Feminine Energy

Ah, rest. The very word evokes a sense of tranquility, a sigh of relief as we sink into a haven of rejuvenation. But in our busy lives, rest can often feel like a luxury we can't afford. Yet, true well-being hinges on this precious practice.

Just like a beautiful flower needs a variety of nurturing elements to bloom, we as women require different kinds of rest to flourish. Let's explore seven invitations to cultivate a deeper sense of rest and radiate your feminine energy from the inside out.

1. The Invitation to Physical Ease: Imagine yourself nestled in cozy blankets, the soft weight of sleep gently cradling your body. Physical rest is the foundation, allowing our muscles to mend and our energy to replenish. Grant yourself the gift of sufficient sleep, gentle stretches, or a warm bath – acts of kindness your body will surely thank you for.

2. The Invitation to Quiet Your Mind: Our thoughts can sometimes feel like a relentless current, pulling us in a million directions. Mental rest is about creating a sanctuary within. Curl up with a calming book, step outside for a mindful walk, or simply allow your breath to be your anchor. As your mind quiets, a sense of peace will naturally wash over you.

3. The Invitation to Sensory Solace: Dim the bright lights, put down the phone, and allow yourself to truly listen to the world around you. Sensory rest is a gentle retreat from the constant stimulation of modern life. Create a calming ambiance with soft music, or step outside and feel the earth beneath your bare feet. Let your senses savor the present moment.

4. The Invitation to Unleash Creativity: Sometimes, the most creative ideas spark when we allow ourselves to simply be. Creative rest isn't about forcing inspiration, but rather letting it flow freely. Engage in activities that bring you joy, like dancing to your favorite music, or simply daydreaming with a cup of tea.

5. The Invitation to Nurture Your Emotions: Just like delicate flowers, our emotions need tending to. Emotional rest is about creating a safe space to process your feelings, whether through journaling, spending time with a trusted friend, or simply allowing yourself to cry. By acknowledging your emotions, you create space for inner peace to blossom.

6. The Invitation to Embrace Solitude: While connection is vital, social rest allows us to fully recharge. Take an afternoon for yourself, curl up with a good book, or simply enjoy the quiet company of your own thoughts. In this solitude, you'll discover a renewed capacity for connection when you return to social spaces.

7. The Invitation to Connect with Something Bigger: Spiritual rest allows us to connect with something that transcends the everyday. This might involve spending time in nature, practicing a form of meditation, or simply reflecting on your values and purpose. By nurturing this connection, you'll find a deeper sense of peace and grounding.

By embracing these invitations to rest, you'll discover a wellspring of renewed energy, a blossoming of creativity, and a radiant inner glow that exemplifies the true essence of feminine energy. Remember, dear friend, rest is not a sign of weakness; it's the foundation for a life overflowing with grace and strength.

[dovveri]

hii!! can you write about momo spanking reader for wearing a short skirt, then making reader ride her face as sana plays with readers bouncing boobs 😵‍💫

out for display

synopsis: exactly what the req asked for

warnings: dom!momo switch!sana sub!reader - degradation, cursing, spanking, face-riding, cunnilingus, sana’s a little obsessed w boobs

w/c: 3.2k

a/n: u horny mfs

you can feel the set of eyes that's been fixed on you since the beginning of rehearsal.

normally momo was the most focused during dance practices, but today, even the instructors had noticed her lack of attention.

"momo!"

the eyes leave you and you catch her panicked gaze and red-tipped ears in the mirror.

"go home. if you're not going to be serious about practice today there's no point in you being here."

"but- i-"

"go home. come back tomorrow with a better attitude. you're a senior in this industry. people look up to you. you can't be off daydreaming and slacking off when trainees are itching to be where you are."

momo huffs, turning pink and quickly grabbing her bag, stomping out the door. you look at sana sympathetically in the mirror who's eyes follow after her before meeting yours. she rolls her eyes playfully, gesturing something about momo being a child. you snicker in response but you're quickly snapped back to attention when the instructor who reprimanded momo gives you a sharp look, calling for everyone to take it from the top.

the rest of the practice goes by uneventfully. aside from sana sneaking in a few inappropriate butt grabs, which wasn't really uncharacteristic of her anyway, you all manage to get as much of the choreography done as you can without your main dancer present.

sana's all over you on the way home. her hand is practically attached to your ass and you can't help but squirm a little when she sends you a knowing smirk.

"momoring's not gonna be happy with you when we get home."

you roll your eyes, "whatever. she should have been paying attention. you didn't get told off for leering too much did you?"

"no but that's because i keep it in my pants better than she does." she squeezes your ass at that, hand under your skirt and on your bare cheek. it was easier to dance in thongs anyway. less restrictive.

you shoo her away, reaching your shared apartment door accompanied by the sound of her laugh. you insert the key and twist, opening the door and setting your things down, taking off your shoes as you hold open the door for sana to come in as well.

but as soon as your shoes are off and the door closes, you feel your feet being lifted off the ground and you squeal as you’re thrown roughly over someone's shoulder. a hand comes down hard over your skirt and there's a loud smack that reverberates around your apartment walls.

you're flailing around when you realise it's momo who's picked you up and hoisted you over her shoulder, her hand on your bottom, arm wrapped around your legs. you look up and see sana with a mirthful glint in her eyes, picking up your things and setting them aside before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water before joining you and momo.

"momo- what?! put me down!"

"okay." she drops you unceremoniously onto your shared bed, your shirt riding up and your skirt flipped over. you clamber onto your elbows and find that she's crawling over you already, a dark gaze devouring your body, drinking in the newly exposed skin.

"fucking slut." she tugs on your skirt that you're scrambling to pull back down to cover yourself. "getting me kicked out and embarrassing me in front of everyone."

"how is that my fault?" you struggle against her, pushing yourself up the bed so your legs aren't dangling off the edge.

she scoffs in response, "are you serious? prancing around and bending over in this pathetic excuse for a skirt, this is more of a glorified belt than anything." she smacks your hands away, pulling and feeling at the material around your hips. "and wearing a fucking thong underneath? may as well have gone without wearing any fucking underwear, flash the entire rehearsal why don't you. was that what you were going for when you put this on this morning? huh? wanted everyone to see what a desperate little whore you were, just begging for anyone to bend you over and fuck you from behind?"

"'s not my fault i have a cute butt. why don't you practice some restraint?"

she's leaning down, dangerously close, eyes narrowed and pupils frenzied. you gulp. "restraint? you want me to practice restraint?" her voice is low, laced with venom and spoken directly above your lips.

you can't find it in yourself to answer, intimidated but so very turned on with the way she's treating you.

"what? can't speak up now?"

she's flipping you over before you know it, hiking your skirt up and landing a resounding slap onto your cheeks.

you yelp, scrambling to get away but she holds your hips down, pressing them against the mattress.

there's another slap and you're fingers grip the sheets, squeaking out again at the sting.

you hear a whistle behind you, and you know sana's entered the room.

"what's going on here darlings?"

"teaching our baby a lesson."

"oh yeah? what for?"

you can imagine the look on momo's face, her gaze steely with rage and scorn, the mental image only serving to soil your panties even more.

sana giggles, unbothered, "don't gimme that look momoring. i didn't have a problem keeping it in my pants."

momo grunts, “whatever. you fall out of line and i’ll give you the same treatment she’s getting.” momo lands another hit on your cheeks, punctuating her sentence.

sana rolls her eyes, “like i wouldn’t like that anyway.”

momo sends her a glare and sana laughs, moving towards her to tilt her chin up and kiss her.

the fact that you can’t see them but you can hear the wet smacking of lips, the little whimpers sana lets out and the sighs momo exhales, has you squirming all the more.

“g-guys please- please-“

slap.

“shut up- mmf- we’re not talking to you.” momo talks between sana’s kisses, sana pays you no mind, sliding onto the bed and rubbing her hands over momo’s shoulders.

so you’re forced to shift and wriggle under momo’s palm while tortuously listening to your girlfriends get progressively more turned on, get progressively wetter while you're laid on your stomach unable to do anything about it.

you hear when they break apart and momo starts kissing down sana's neck, the shuffle of clothes coming off and bra clasps being snapped open, you’re grinding down into the bed desperate for any sort of stimulation. then you hear full-blown moans when hands start grabbing at breasts and rubbing nipples between fingers. you're preening your ears, trying to catch every word, every gasp, every moan, but even when sana's whispering the dirtiest words into momo's ears while momo's mouth is attached to sana's neck, you can't catch any of it, completely left out and untouched.

that is until sana speaks up, intending for the both of you to hear now, "momoring~ i wanna see her pretty chest heaving. can she ride your face? pretty please?" you can visualise the pout sana has on her, no-one could resist that face, you have been at the receiving end of that many times. when sana pulls that face, she always gets what she wants.

you turn crimson at the mental imagery, slick running down your thighs in anticipation, "yes! please please momo please-"

slap!

"how. many. times. do i. have to. tell you. to shut. up." she lands a slap with each word in rapid succession, your ass burns in pain and pleasure. "she wasn't talking to you slut. speak again without being spoken to and i'll gag you."

you whimper into the sheets, thighs rubbing together to get any sort of friction.

"tch. you're lucky sana babies you. if it were up to me you wouldn't be getting anything at all today." she's shuffling up the bed but you don't dare move, straining all your senses to get any clue on what was happening.

then momo pulls your hair, not gently but not too rough either, just enough to get you gushing. she turns your head to face her on the bed, she's already lying down, not looking at you, eyes trained on the ceiling, but you can tell from the way her pupils are blown and her breathing is heavier that she’s just as turned on as you are right now. "well? give her a show. you'd love to be on display like the slut you are wouldn't you?"

you scramble up, catching a glimpse of sana smirking and completely naked, a hand between her thighs, the other one groping a breast.

momo's also been stripped, you drink in the skin as you clamber over her, sana sliding forward sultrily so she's grinding down on momo's abs. you'd feel jealous but in that second, momo pulls your thong to the side and slides a tongue along your cunt, her hands gripping your thighs to bring you down harder onto her face, and any thoughts that weren’t pure pleasure and relief vanish from your head.

the choked out moans you let out at finally being touched, finally being able to see your girls, you were so tightly wound up already.

sana's got that lidded gaze, dragging herself along momo's abs just a little rougher at the sight of you, bringing a hand up and under your shirt, grasping a breast between her fingers and squeezing. she has you lurching forward, but momo's grip on your thighs is firm, holding you up while she licks stripes of fire up your spine.

sana giggles, gasping, the sound quickly turning into a moan as her clit catches on the ridges of momo’s stomach, but her sweet sweet smile remains, it’s pornographic the way she looks, how she sounds, she’s unreal.

your attention is divided though, from sana pulling at the hem of your shirt to get you to take your top off, and momo sucking your clit into her mouth, its hard enough to think as is.

"there we go. that's my pretty girl." sana giggles again when she manages to unhook your bra, tugging it off and throwing it off to the side.

"god look at the two of you. my pretty darlings. look at you, your chests heaving up and down in sync, those pretty pretty tits. you both drive me positively insane." she tilts her head back, the tone of her voice lilting as she brings a free hand to rub at her clit. “how- ah- how’s she taste momoring?”

momo slurps at you noisily in response, you buckle at the feeling, her hot tongue thorough and firm, not missing a single sliver of skin, she’s absolutely devouring you.

sana chuckles lightly, reaching back and parting momo’s thighs, running a finger lightly down momo’s wet pussy. momo’s hips buck up at the motion, only serving as a harder board for sana to slide across when her abs tense in effort. sana keeps a finger rubbing circles on momo’s clit while she moans unabashedly and leverages the ridges and lines on momo’s stomach.

when sana dips a finger into momo’s pussy, momo moans around your clit, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your body.

you’re desperate to talk, to voice just how good she was making you feel, but you were terrified of the warning she gave about gagging you if you spoke without being spoken to. you hated the gag, it always left you in tears and your jaw sore.

sana saves you, a twinkle in her eyes that barely come up to wink at you before drifting back down to your bouncing breasts. she loved a show. “what’s wrong sweetie? want to talk hm? always one for words aren’t you? go ahead. momoring won’t gag you, she loves to hear how good she makes you feel even if she won’t admit it.”

momo can’t even reply, her face stuffed full with your cunt.

“f-fuck oh god- momo fuck- that’s so good right there oh shit- mm oh my fucking god you’re so good-“

sana giggles at your eagerness, edging you on when her fingers that were inside momo come up to twist at a nipple, the slight sticky shine on them is vulgar.

“ah-! fuck sana- oh my god not- oh you’re so pretty i can’t- you look so pretty-“

“what are you saying darling? think your mind’s turning to mush with how good momo’s tongue feels inside you hm?”

“fuck- yeah- can’t think-“

“shh you don’t have to think sweetie. just ride her face and look pretty for me. the both of you- god- you’re gonna make me cum-“

her movements speed up as she glides along momo’s stomach faster, harder, her breath catching, fingers rubbing tight rough circles onto her clit before she cums, head thrown back in a silent scream, sweat dripping down her throat, you want to lap her up.

that thought reminds you of the one thing that gets sana just a little further while she’s cumming.

so you lean forward as much as you can, momo’s arms supporting your body, still drinking you dry, dangling your tits in front of sana’s face once her head comes back down.

her blazed eyes meet yours just for a second before she grins, taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking, moaning around it while she rides out her orgasm, her oral fixation fulfilled.

the sight of her cum staining momo’s stomach, the feeling of momo’s wet hot tongue inside your throbbing pussy, and sana’s perfect mouth suckling on your tit, it’s enough for you to cry out and cum as well.

momo slurps you up happily, her own hips grinding up into nothing of their own volition. you try to pull yourself up but a tug at your nipple and a hint of teeth sinking in, as well as momo’s firm grip on your thighs traps you there, writhing and moaning as you cum for them.

when they finally let you go you collapse on your side next to momo, breathing hard and pussy still tingly from the aftershocks of pleasure.

you can barely move but when you hear the sweet sounds of momo moaning you force yourself to roll onto your stomach and turn your head to see her eyes clenched shut, mouth open, and hand tugging at brown locks between her legs.

you rub your thighs together at the sounds, the moans and sloppy wet kisses sana’s leaving on momo’s cunt.

momo feels your eyes on her and turns her head, her eyes peeking open and you whimper a little at the sight, clenching around nothing.

“you can kiss me.”

that’s all the permission you need, rushing forward and almost smacking your teeth together in the hurry but she adjusts and it’s hot and wet and now she’s moaning and gasping those illegal sounds directly into your mouth.

you can tell she’s getting close when her throat gets all high-pitched and whiny and sana moans at the way she pulls on her hair, tugging her impossibly closer so her entire nose, lips, chin is drenched in her essence.

your hand lazily goes to a tit, grasping at it and letting it spill between your fingers, feeling the hard little nub against your palm and rolling it around. you go to the other breast and repeat, just playing with her and feeling her up.

“oh fuck that’s- right there sana-“ momo pants into your mouth, hips bucking upwards.

sana licks and sucks, eager to make her baby cum, and that eagerness is translated easily when momo moans and does exactly that. you take the opportunity while she’s slack-jawed and mouth open to lick into her, tasting yourself on her tongue and humming in satisfaction. sana continues eating her out, helping her through it and you squeeze her tit lightly, trying to prolong the heights of her pleasure.

when she comes down she’s sighing into you, able to kiss you back lovingly, and sana’s sliding up her body, kissing her stomach, her breasts, momo has to pull her up by her hair when she latches onto a nipple, too sensitive to let her have her fun. sana pouts but adheres, kissing up her neck and whispering how well she did and how good she tasted into her ear.

momo’s lips part from yours as she turns her head to reconnect with sana. you snuggle into momo’s neck, sliding your hand down to her stomach and wrapping your arm around her, cuddling in and closing your eyes.

sana doesn’t let you fall asleep though, breaking apart from momo and tilting your head up slightly to kiss you. you hum at the taste of momo on her tongue, breaking apart gently and nuzzling back into momo’s neck.

but when you feel a hand sneaking down your back and flipping your skirt up again, fingers gently tracing your ass, you whine, the sensitivity from being spanked still there.

you can hear sana tsk, “we need to get some cream on that darling. is that okay?”

you hum, not bothering to open your eyes when you feel sana leave the bed, clinging onto momo.

momo turns her head and kisses your forehead, “‘m sorry baby. was i too rough? does it hurt a lot?”

“noo it was perfect. you didn’t hurt me at all.”

“okay. don’t wear this skirt again in public. you can wear it at home or when its only us but not for anyone else.”

you pout into her neck, “i was wearing it for you! i don’t care what other people think. just wanted to be pretty for you.”

“and you’re always pretty for us baby. but i don’t like when other people look at what’s mine.”

you hiss when you feel the touch of cool cream against your ass, sana dipping onto the bed again and carefully applying it over your skin.

“momoring just let her be. they can look but they can’t touch like we can right? they don’t get to hear or see all the pretty sounds and faces y/n makes when she comes apart.”

momo pouts, looking up at sana, “the same goes for you y’know. you loooove to flaunt your body and you live off the attention don’t you?”

sana shrugs, “there’s nothing wrong with that. you both know i’ll only come home to you two.”

momo grumbles, shifting a little so she’s on her side facing the both of you as well, “whatever. i’ll kick anyone’s nuts if they even think of getting close to either of you.”

you and sana giggle, “they look at you the same way idiot.”

“yeah yeah now hurry up so we can sleep and cuddle.”

sana rolls her eyes but finishes up, stepping away to put the cream aside and coming back quickly to wrap her arms and legs around both of you, squeezing all of you together and pulling the blanket over the three of you.

“you act tough but we both know you’re just a big teddy bear momoring.”

momo begins to protest but you lean up and capture her lips in a kiss and her words die down in her throat, sighing gently into you. you break apart with a giggle, nuzzling back into her throat, placing a hand over sana’s who’s got her arm around your waist and drifting off.