#Dom and i watched this yesterday it was cool :•)

[girlygguk]

WIT IT THIS CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6

pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader

genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy

word count 8.9k

banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

North Star Pavilion, Seoul

Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.

The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.

Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.

“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”

“I’ll see you after the show, J.”

Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.

For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.

But you don’t let it.

The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.

The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.

Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.

This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.

Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.

Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.

Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.

It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.

So fucking stupid.

You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.

“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.

Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.

You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.

“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.

“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.

You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.

Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”

“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”

His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.

“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.

His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.

You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.

He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.

Until you heard it.

“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”

Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”

“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”

The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.

“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”

The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.

He followed, of course.

Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.

And now, here you are.

Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.

No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.

The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?

Whatever.

Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.

The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.

The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.

You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.

He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.

By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”

You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.

Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.

“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”

You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”

Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”

You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.

“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.

“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”

“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”

Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”

“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.

The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.

You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.

It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.

Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.

He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.

He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.

By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.

He wasn’t.

That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.

While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.

Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.

Maybe.

Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.

“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”

You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.

She lingers.

He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.

Slut. The both of them.

Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.

His gaze catches yours from the stage.

You look away.

The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.

The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.

Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.

“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.

You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.

The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”

You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”

Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.

The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”

You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.

From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.

Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.

Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”

The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.

Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”

You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.

They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.

Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.

Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”

You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.

Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.

Then you see her.

The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.

Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.

But she doesn’t move.

She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.

Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.

The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.

Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.

He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.

But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.

You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.

You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.

She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.

Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.

Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”

You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.

The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.

You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.

“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.

He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.

The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”

It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.

When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.

Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”

Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”

Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.

“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.

Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.

You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”

“What did he do?”

You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”

He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you nod.

His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”

Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”

His brows pinch. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Baby—”

“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”

His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.

“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”

“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”

His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”

He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.

“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.

Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”

His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.

“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.

He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.

“And what do you want, baby?”

You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.

“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”

His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.

But you know better.

There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.

His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.

Then you pull back.

His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.

“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.

“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.

You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.

“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”

“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”

“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”

The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”

Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”

One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”

A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.

“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”

Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”

His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”

“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.

“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”

“Yes!”

You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.

When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.

“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.

“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”

You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.

“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”

Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”

You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”

His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.

A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.

“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.

His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.

Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.

His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.

“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”

“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”

His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.

“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”

“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”

“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.

He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.

The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.

You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.

Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.

Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.

Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.

One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.

Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.

Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.

Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.

You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.

Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.

“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.

The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.

You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—

“Uh… J-Jungkook?”

You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.

There is no fucking way.

Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.

You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”

Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”

He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”

Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.

His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”

The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”

Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.

“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.

The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.

Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.

He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.

“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”

“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”

Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.

He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”

He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”

“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.

Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.

You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”

“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.

You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.

His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.

“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”

Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.

“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”

He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”

You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.

Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.

Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”

He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.

Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.

“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”

Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.

“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.

He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."

You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.

His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.

The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”

He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.

“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”

Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.

“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”

He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”

“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”

You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.

“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”

“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”

A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.

“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”

“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”

Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”

sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips

[bombuni]

the post-show high

summary: Jongho spots you in the crowd once and can’t let go of you. Unfortunately, so does Yeosang. Good thing they don’t mind sharing. (Or Seonghwa and Hongjoong are terrible wingmen, but they get the job done.) genre/pairing: lead singer!jongho x reader x bassist!yeosang, smut, band au, ft. drummer!mingi, guitarist!hongjoong & seonghwa’s there for vibes wc: 4.8k (i have issues when it comes to jongsang) warnings: SMUT MDNI, threesome, cursing, mentions of drinking, mean!dom!jongho, soft!dom!yeosang, sub!fem!reader, fingering champions jongsang, box munching king jongho, name-calling (jongho loves sluts), edging, creampies, spit kink, degradation, finger sucking, sloppy seconds, sort of cum-eating, aftercare, idk why it gets so soft at the end bom note: i had this thought and i said ‘i must bring chino moreno jongho to life’ jongsang stans pls fw my vision. also here’s a playlist i made! i think the music they’d make in this au is very much deftones style. lmk if i missed anything for the warnings!

It’s hot.

You don’t mind supporting Hongjoong and Mingi in their musical escapades, but it’s crowded. When they’d told you they were in a band, you half-expected them to be playing in a low-down unknown bar with 2 patrons. You hadn’t expected to be crowded by fans, all (not) patiently waiting for the set to start. Seonghwa stood beside you, pouting every time he was shoved into. He looked out of place, elegant and prince-like in a sea of punk-rockers wearing crust pants and in yesterday’s makeup.

He seems at ease, though. Having been to multiple of Hongjoong’s shows at this point, he’s become accustomed to the intense pits, the broken noses, and the lingering stench of weed. The multitudes of drinks he’s been having seem to help too. You stand by and watch as his cheeks get redder and redder throughout the night.

He points his drink at you while he speaks, “You know, Hongjoong wants to set you up with the singer, Jongho. Said he seems like your type,”

You scoff at that, “No way! The last guy he tried to set me up with ended up being a total weirdo,”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “A foot fetish isn’t the weirdest thing out there. Besides, Yunho’s actually pretty cool,” he raises his brows at you, but continues when he sees you’re not changing your mind, “Fine. Go with my option. I wanted to set you up with their bassist. You like nice guys, right?”

The lights dim, giving you an easy out to Seonghwa’s terrible match-making ideas, “The fact you think I’m ever trusting you or Hongjoong again is laughable.”

Seonghwa can’t respond as the band steps on stage, a rush of excitement flowing through you when you see Hongjoong and Mingi in their spots. They both wave at you in the front row, Hongjoong’s smile growing extra wide when he sees Seonghwa. The bassist smiles at the crowd, his pink cheeks shining in the light. You wonder how such a cherub-looking guy ended up in a hard band like this. Though, his black tank top revealing his muscular form makes your head spin from how different his body is from his innocent-looking face.

Hongjoong seems at home on the stage, “How we doing tonight?” His hype seems to work as the crowd cheers loudly and unapologetically, “Thanks to KQ bar for having us. I’m Hongjoong, that’s Yeosang, our bassist, and we got Mingi on drums. Seems like we’re missing someone, though,”

Mingi’s voice rumbles through the microphone, “Bring Jongho out!”

The crowd seems to squish you impossibly more, their screams nearly drowning your own thoughts. Rightfully so, as the lead singer walks out with a confidence that you envy. His leather pants shine under the stage lights, and he seems to bask in the attention he gets. His smirk grows with every step he takes towards the main stage. You feel he’s cocky, and you hate that you like it.

“Hello, KQ,” He seems to command the room, silence enveloping the crowd when he speaks, “I’m glad you could make it tonight-“

Jongho scans the crowd, but he seems to pause at the sight of you. He still wears the smug look, ego wafting in the room and getting under your skin. It’s a smaller venue and you’re somewhat close, so it’s easy to tell that he’s staring at you and no one else.

He points directly at you, finger seemingly digging into your soul, “Let’s have fun tonight.”

With that, the set starts. Mingi’s drums burst through your chest, the slow start to their first song hypnotizes you. The sound of the bass is what draws you in, and you look towards Yeosang, who’s putting his entire heart into the sound. His fingers are delicate and pretty, the complete opposite to most bass players you’ve seen. They strum expertly, long digits reaching to find the right note every time. You figure they could reach anywhere.

He must feel your eyes on him. Yeosang looks up with a focused, stoic look plastered on his face as he watches the scenery. As he looks around you lock eyes with him, a shy smile growing on his face when he realizes you aren’t looking away. It seems to fuel his performance when he goes back to looking down at his bass.

The music is intense, Hongjoong and Mingi clearly pouring their passion into it. You know them and expected this fervor, but it surprises you when it comes from Jongho and Yeosang too. Jongho’s voice sends chills down your spine with every high note sung. It reaches out to you, pulling the passion and feeling from you and taking that energy for his own growth. Watching him is watching art being made.

The set ends, and the 4 sweaty men on stage bow and thank the crowd. You feel Jongho’s eyes on you again, that same soul-marking finger calling your attention to wink at you before he walks off the stage. Yeosang seems to call your attention too, a subtle wave landing your way before he too disappears behind the curtain.

As the lights flicker back on, Seonghwa turns to you with a sparkle in his eye, “That was amazing! We need to go buy them drinks,”

You shrug, imposing nonchalance even though your face is turning red at the thought of meeting face to face with them after that, “Sure, sounds good.”

Seonghwa raises a brow before laughing at your reluctance, “Don’t think I didn’t see that by the way. Yeosang was totally into you,”

You scoff and turn to walk towards the bar, “Shut up, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa harrumphs, but follows behind you. It’s easy to spot Hongjoong’s blonde head of hair among the sea of people, “Joongie, stop hogging all the talent,”

He turns laughing at you, his warm arms wrapping around you, “Can’t stop, won’t stop, baby,”

“Hongjoong! That was your best performance yet. But can we talk about how Yeosang was totally eye-fucking Y/N the entire time?” Seonghwa’s somewhat tipsy, you conclude.

Hongjoong leans on the bar, “Uh…no. I’m still betting on Jongho and her. You know he was asking about you?”

You roll your eyes at their insistence, “You just finished a set, why're you worried about my love life?”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you as he’s given a tray of drinks, handing some off to you and Seonghwa before walking ahead, “Come on, Jongho wants to meet you.”

He leads you towards the backstage. Hongjoong opens a door marked with a flimsy sheet of notebook paper, their band name written in purple marker. You hear Jongho’s voice before anything else. It’s embedded in your brain at this point. As you walk further in, his large frame and slicked back hair intimidates you. You fear you’ve fallen for him already. With his hands in his leather jacket, he greets you with a lazy smirk. You can feel the stardom radiating off of him. It lets you know that whatever arrogance he has is completely warranted.

Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong makes a dumb excuse about forgetting something that requires him, Seonghwa, and Mingi. They leave quickly, knowing your protests would come faster.

You sigh inwardly to yourself, but Jongho seems all too pleased to be alone with you, “How ‘bout a drink?”

He sits on the battered leather couch, legs spread and waiting for you to sit next to him. He raises a brow when you sit on the seat opposite him before handing you a shot glass, “Hongjoong said you’re looking for a date,” His voice is quieter, softer now. There’s certainly a step down from his stage presence to the Jongho you’re talking to now. Maybe you were just being harsh in the assumption he’d be a pompous asshole earlier. You don’t let yourself soften, though.

You snort, “Well, Hongjoong doesn’t know what he’s talking about,”

Jongho downs his glass in a flash, turning to you with a charming smirk that makes you want to kiss it off his face, “So it’s off the table?”

He says this like it’s an easy, everyday question. His poignant flirting sends a blush to your cheeks that glows under the dim lightbulb of the broken down room. Jongho thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. You down your shot and he’s ready to up the ante on the flirting before Yeosang appears, wiping a towel over his sweaty face and greeting you with a soft smile that sends butterflies down your tummy.

“Yeosang, this is-“

“Y/N, right? Seonghwa told me about you. How’d you like the show?”

God, you did not expect a voice like that, to come out of a face like that. His brown hair sticks to his forehead and his pale skin glows under the light, those same fingers you were admiring on stage are much more daunting close-up. They distract you as he taps on the arm of the seat across you, almost tauntingly.

“Oh-um, it was great. You guys seem to really enjoy what you do,”

They stare at you with half-lidded gazes, like they’re chewing on your words in their heads and analyzing you as a person. You’d believe they hate you, if it weren’t for the teasing, venemous grins they wore on their faces. They’ve been around groupies long enough to recognize them, and you might not be one of them, but God, Jongho wants to train you until you only remember their names.

Jongho doesn’t take his eyes off you, but he addresses Yeosang, “Y/N was just telling me about how much she loves the band,”

Yeosang leans his head on the palm of his hand, his biceps popping in the lighting, “Hmm, do you?”

You scoff to try to shake off their gazes, reaching for another glass, “You guys believe Hongjoong way too much,”

Jongho grins at you like a predator, “I heard it from Mingi,”

Yeosang’s smile is teasing, “I heard it from Seonghwa,”

You’re outnumbered, so you don’t even bother saying anything about the teasing. The overflowing chatter outside and booming music drowns out any thoughts you attempt to have. You fear they can somehow hear your beating heart, like they’re zeroing in on you and preparing to eat you alive. Yeosang’s hands tap against the chair again, your eyes flying to study the way they flex.

Jongho pipes up again, “You seem to like Yeosang’s hands a lot. You know, he’ll play whatever song you like.”

Yeosang stretches his fingers, watching the way your blush grows and the way your grasp tightens against the glass in your hand, “I’ll do whatever you want,”

Yeosang stands from his seat and moves to stand in front of you. It forces your eyes upwards, his body heat and proximity turning your entire body into jelly. Suddenly, Jongho speaks up and his soft voice is the worst vice you’ve faced yet, “Why don’t you let us give you a private show? Hmm?” His head tilts softly, the smug smile on his face as he leans back into the couch filling you with annoyance and desire.

You nod softly, mind a haze and heat pooling inside you. Yeosang reaches his hand up to your chin, pulling your mouth open with his thumb before pushing it between your lips. He watches with rapt interest as your tongue swirls around his digit, lips fighting to pull all of the sweat clean off his hand. The sound turns them on more than ever, the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers fueling the fire in his gut. He removes his thumb, playing with your lips as you leave tiny kisses over his fingers before he inserts his forefingers. You work on them again, saliva strings building between his hand and your mouth every time he pulls away.

“You’re nasty, baby,” Jongho’s smug voice pipes up.

Once Yeosang deems his hand wet enough he sits down next to you, slowly trailing his hand down your tummy and into your jeans. It’s a tight fit, but Jongho reaches over to unbutton your pants for him. As soon as he does, Yeosang’s hand slips into your panties and finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles over it and groaning at the wetness that grows underneath his fingers.

Jongho seems content with watching you break. You writhe underneath Yeosang’s fingers as he expertly finds just the right spot and abuses it. You feel dirty with the wet spot that continues to grow on your pants, quiet moans filling the room alongside Yeosang’s panting breaths. Your hand grasps Yeosang’s when he runs his fingers along your folds, spreading your wetness against your skin and moaning at the feeling of you so turned on. He takes his hand out of your pants, the shine of your slick glistening in his eyes. He brings his forefingers to his lips, running his tongue along the length of them before he sucks them clean. He makes sure to be lewd about it, licking every single drop of your juices and smiling at you with your slick on his lips.

“Hmm, you liked that didn’t you?” Jongho hums as he stands to you, pulling your pants off in one swift motion. He kneels in front of you, running his palm over your wet panties. His large hand is different from Yeosang’s delicate fingers. He has a domineering touch that doesn’t stop as he holds your thighs over his shoulders, pulling your panties down. His hands send tingles of pleasure down your spine when he kneads your skin, taking his time to feel and memorize every inch of you.

Jongho’s fingers run through your slit, smearing the wetness that drips out of you. He teases you, watching as your impatience grows while his fingers stray from where you want them most. Suddenly, his lips are on you. He devours you like you’re the first meal he’s had in days, a man starved of the fruit between your legs. His tongue slips inside you and over you, tracing every inch of you and leaving a path of pleasure. He ravishes you while Yeosang watches beside you, his hands making quick work of your shirt.

They seem to have developed a system. They’re far too comfortable with sharing. The thought doesn’t really form in your head as Jongho keeps marking you with his mouth, small kisses landing anywhere he can reach. He smirks at you when a whine slips from your lips when he spreads your thighs further, a glob of spit flowing from his pouty lips and onto you. He hisses at the sight, the shine of your pussy filling his gut with desire. His lips latch back onto your clit, his forefingers making their way inside you. He curls them ever so slightly, fucking you over and over again as his tongue flicks your button. Jongho’s already figured out how you work, destroying you with a smile and a glint in his eyes from below.

Yeosang giggles when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra, “You got a nice rack.”

You admit if anyone else spoke those words to you, you would’ve found it demeaning. But the way Yeosang’s soft voice compliments you sends a new wave of flames over your body.

Jongho grins and removes his lips from you, “Knew you were a fucking slut,”

You shake your head, but Jongho’s got you pegged. The feeling of having two men’s attention on you at once is exhilarating. It has you on cloud nine. Jongho raises the speed of his fingers, the squelch of your pussy sounding out into the room. Yeosang’s hands fondle your tits, his thumb brushing over your nipple and bringing a sigh out of you.

He sends butterfly kisses down your jawline, “Hmm, she’s a nice slut, though. The prettiest one I’ve seen,”

He’s too angelic. Everything about him is elegant and graceful, even the way he touches you. His low tone vibrates through your body, clashing with the harsh way Jongho keeps fucking you. He dominates the lower part of you, as if his hands have found their home. The juxtaposition between them sends your system into overdrive.

“You wanna cum?” You nod frantically, “Use your words, slut.”

“P-please, Jongho…”

Yeosang coos, “Even the way she begs is cute,”

Your legs are shaking at this point and Jongho’s cock is leaking in his pants, weeping to be let out. Still, he lives to torture, “You can’t cum without my permission,” Your leg muscles clamp up, pouring all of your energy into not letting your orgasm slip out of you. Jongho notices your strain, “Look at you. What a good fucking slut you are.”

His fingers slip out of you and you whine at the loss, Yeosang’s gentle fingers playing with your nipples is simply not enough friction. Jongho stands, pulling you up with him, “If you can take Yeosang’s cock, I’ll let you cum on mine. Deal?”

You don't even understand what you’re agreeing to, but you follow Jongho’s orders. You feel Yeosang stand behind you, his arms wrapping around your torso and walking you until you’re in front of the coffee table in the middle of the room. He bends you over it, your knees knocking onto the soft carpet underneath. You don’t think about how long ago it must’ve last been cleaned. You just think about Jongho sitting cross legged on the couch in front of you, his hand resting on his hard cock in his pants. He’s eyeing you like a piece of meat as Yeosang leans over your back, his nose nuzzling against your hair. His long fingers run over the expanse of your back, the cold feeling sending shivers down your spine.

He leans back and spreads your ass, groaning at the sight of you dripping. You hear the sound of his belt buckle dropping and your nerves rise before a soothing hand drops onto your hips, massaging your skin. His voice rings right into your ear, “Don’t worry, angel. I’m not as mean as Jongho,” Said man scoffs, the slightest hint of a blush noticeable under the light. Before you can say anything, Yeosang’s cock teases your entrance, playing with your pussy with his tip. The feeling makes you whine, already edging into dangerous territory.

Yeosang slides in entirely, his long cock reaching the deepest parts of you. Your entire body goes numb as he gently thrusts, bouts of pleasure rising through every part of your body. He’s whining pathetically, trying not to lose his mind and keep control at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, “S-she’s so tight, Jongho, shit.”

Jongho’s fidgeting in his seat, palming himself like there’s no tomorrow and attempting to hide how weak he is already, “How tight, Yeosang?”

Yeosang steadies himself on your hips, the speed of his thrusts increasing. He’s like a desperate puppy trying to get his rocks off, his sweaty shirt on your back as he leans his head on your shoulder. He’s lost himself to the pleasure. He moans into your ear, his heavy breaths a performance made just for you.

“This is the best pussy I’ve had. Right, angel? You’re being good for me?” he pants out.

You moan at the praise, “Y-yes, Yeosang, all for you,”

Jongho’s restless now. Watching the way the table shakes from Yeosang’s thrusts and the way you take it so well has him anxious to get inside of you. His cock strains in his pants, but he’ll wait until Yeosang’s had his fill. Yeosang’s balls slap against your ass, the lewd sounds of his cock ramming in and out of you filling Jongho’s ears. You feel yourself dripping down your thighs as Yeosang’s hand comes down to your clit. That seems to reignite you, an unbeatable wave of pleasure flooding over you. As Yeosang rubs circles on you, you clench down on him. He moans at the tightness, his hips and hand stuttering against you.

Jongho senses your struggling, “Remember what I said, slut,” your thighs tremble, “Or are you too cock-dumb right now?”

You shake your head but quickly fix your mistake, “N-no, Jongho,”

Your voice shakes against Yeosang’s hips pistoning into you, all rhythm lost as he chases his high. He’s practically breathing for you now, his arms wrapped around your chest while his head rests on yours. He exerts all of his power, which is quite a lot surprisingly, into making you feel every inch of his cock. Jongho’s eyes bore into yours as he watches you unravel, your glistening skin and teary eyes making his cock jump.

Just to make your torture worse, he leans into your face. His thumb pries open your lips, inviting itself into your mouth and taking control of you, “You’re the best cock-slut I’ve seen. Taking Yeosang so well. Is he making you feel good?”

His voice is silky and entrancing and you can’t help but give an honest answer, “S-so good, Jongho. Can I cum? Please?”

His sick smirk grows, “Nope.”

A desperate whine drips from your lips, the burning desire bursting through to Yeosang’s cock as you squeeze him again. This time, a myriad of beautifully pathetic whines fall from Yeosang’s lips as he’s drained by you. He stills deep inside you, letting himself fill you and mark you as his property. He watches it drip down your thighs, the pearlescent liquid falling in droplets as you tremble.

Yeosang catches you before you can fall onto the table, “I think she’s broken,”

He carries you, again with surprising ease, onto Jongho’s lap. You lay limp against him, the leather of his jacket waking you slightly as he wraps his arms around you, “Already? I haven’t even fucked you yet,”

You nod your head, “I-I can take it, I wanna cum, Jongho,”

He laughs at you, head tipping and revealing the kissable dot on his neck, “See? You’re a fucking slut, baby,” his arms wrap tighter around you, one of his hands coming down to your clit and rubbing lazily, “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you,”

Yeosang sits next to you, sitting and watching the way your pussy tries to keep his cum inside. Jongho’s fingers stuff it back in, catching any that’s still stuck on your thighs and putting it back where it belongs. He brings his hand up to your lips, your mouth opening automatically and accepting what he gives. Your tongue swirls to clean every inch of his hand, licking the sweat and cum off of his skin. Jongho lets out a shaky breath behind you.

Yeosang feels his cock standing again, the sight of you so easily submitting to Jongho getting him ready to go all over again, “Fuck, I need to feel that pussy again.”

Jongho unzips his pants underneath you. You feel his cock at your entrance as he slides it in between your folds, wanting to torture you even more. He’s smaller than Yeosang but much, much thicker. Yeosang’s cum lets you take Jongho’s cock much easier, the stretch from before easing him in. You moan at the feeling, the fullness overtaking your senses.

Jongho leans back and stables himself on the floor. His voice is powerful against you, the sound of it alone making you shake in anticipation, “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, and then you can cum all over me. Understand?”

He doesn’t even let you answer before starting a wicked rhythm. He claps against you with no mercy, his grip on your hips holding you steady on his lap. It’s delicious, the way he bounces you up and down on his cock and thrusts up into you at the same time. Jongho growls as your cream and Yeosang’s cum makes a mess of the both of you. Yeosang watches your tits bounce. The stench of sex fills the room and depravity fills his senses.

The power of Jongho’s thrusts almost has you toppling over. He’s ravenous with the way he fucks you, thick cock ramming into you over and over from below. Jongho fucking loves the feeling of having you broken atop him, having you at your most vulnerable and sensitive right under his fingertips. He squeezes your hips, groaning when you squeeze back.

His head drops to the couch, letting you drop and feel every inch and vein of his cock. The stretch of him is painfully delicious. Yeosang takes this moment of pause to snake a hand to your clit, causing you to jolt when he begins rubbing circles.

“Y-yeosang…” you plead as you feel a tsunami of pleasure coming closer and closer to falling atop you.

He kisses along your neck, the ticklish sensation sending you into overdrive. Along with Jongho’s cock filling you and taking over your very being, you feel like you’re fighting a losing battle. You’re determined to follow Jongho’s rules, though.

Yeosang chuckles into your neck, “Just let her cum, Jongho,”

“Yeah, baby? Do you need to cum?” He asks flatly, slamming you down harshly onto his cock again.

“P-please, I need to cum so b-bad…”

You feel like you’re about to burst and you’re sure Jongho can feel it too. He doesn’t care, laughing as you continue to writhe and moan against Yeosang’s fingers, “I told you I’m gonna fill this pussy with my cum first, okay? Stop being so fucking cock-dumb already,”

He leans back further into the couch, bringing your back to his chest as he gathers his last bit of force to fuck up into you. He hangs off the edge of the couch slightly, but that’s not even a thought in his head as he continues to ram himself into you unforgivingly. Yeosang continues to tease and probe your bud, an evil smile forming on his face the longer he watches you unravel atop Jongho’s rabid hips.

Jongho hisses when he feels you tighten. Your hole is too fucking good, draining him for all he has. He gives one last powerful thrust before releasing his load inside of you, his balls tightening up against you as he jolts and spasms underneath you. His cock twitches inside of you and with the feeling of him finally filling you and Yeosang’s relentless fingers, you come undone. The pleasure that’s been building this entire time finally releases like a broken dam. It washes over you, unabated even after all this time. You feel every single one of your nerves explode inside you, your body seizing up against Jongho’s as your pussy tightens impossibly more to take all Jongho has to give.

Yeosang sighs against you, “Oh, angel, you take us so well,”

Just knowing that you have Yeosang’s and Jongho’s cum flowing inside you has your entire body tingling. It sends you into an even higher tier of gratification, your orgasm prolonging every time Jongho spurts another shot of cum into you.

Jongho’s voice is strained as he speaks, “Fuck, look what a fucking dirty cum-slut you are.”

It’s hard to get off of cloud nine once you’ve reached it. You can distantly hear their soft voices in the back of your head, vastly different from their tones before. You feel the leather couch underneath your back, their cum dripping out of you, and Yeosang’s hand gently running through your hair.

He tries to lure you fully awake, but that doesn’t happen until Jongho brings a warm towel to clean you. Your teary eyes squint under the light and you’re surprised at how weak you feel. Your body feels like jelly as Jongho hands Yeosang a towel to clean up the sweat on your upper body.

You’re not entirely sure what’s happening, but a blur of emotions is still flowing through you, “Hey…you don’t have to…” you sleepily let out.

They don’t say anything in return so neither do you. Jongho slips your panties back on, Yeosang pulling you softly upwards to put your shirt back on. You feel surprisingly cared for after getting your brains fucked out. You hadn’t expected it from two guys who probably do this every night.

They sit with you as you gather your bearings. Jongho traces patterns onto your legs, mindlessly staring at you. It sends a different kind of heat to your body. The kind that has you shrinking into yourself, blushing and hiding your face in your hands. You pretend it’s from sleepiness, but Jongho knows better. Yeosang hums beside your head, still running his hands through your hair delicately.

You feel more alive after a while, finally gathering the energy to sit up, “This doesn’t mean I’m your groupie now, by the way,”

“You would’ve been my favorite,” Jongho grins.

Yeosang pouts, “I don’t think Hongjoong would approve,” You both raise a brow at him, “What? He has the power to kick me out of the band, I have to be careful.”

Jongho laughs aloud as you giggle alongside him. You sort of feel at home with them, and not just because they rearranged your guts. They touch you softly, in ways that say they know everything about you. You’d rather not fall into that hole. Right now, you lay content in the moment in between them in this dingy room with their hands on you.

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names and Airplanes (Part 3)

Paige Bueckers x reader

It’s Paige’s turn to call the shots.

Themes: smut!! dom!Paige, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1

Part 2

A/N: IT FINALLY LET ME POST HALLELUJAH!! You sweetie pies asked for a part 3 and here it is! And to whoever was the original anon who sent me the idea for Pet Names and Airplanes, i love u

~

Seattle had crushed Indiana, although that was pretty much a given. What you hadn’t expected, though, was Paige’s attitude after the game. The whole time, her hand was placed possessively on your thigh, fingers only leaving the soft flesh to be thrown in the air in a joyous celebration of Seattle scoring. And you certainly delighted in the way Paige kept sneaking peeks at one of the hickeys she had left at the base of your throat, threatening to expose the sheer naughtiness that had gone down yesterday. And this morning. 

The relationship between the two of you had changed dramatically in the last 48 hours, leaving you with an undeniable giddiness that bubbled in your chest. And now here you were, talking to Nika on the sidelines of the basketball court, feeling the blonde’s eyes on you, the heat of them radiating off of you in a way that had you shivering. 

Your arm was wrapped around Nika’s waist in a friendly hold; you had missed the Croatian girl, but Paige’s body language suggested that if you didn’t back away, you’d be in deep shit. Her eyes narrowed as you scooched in closer, meeting her gaze with a smug look that said ‘Whatcha going to do about it?’ 

It was not long before she was pulled away by yet another throng of young, adoring fans. She posed for pictures and signed basketballs and shirts, a fond smile adorning your face as you watched, thinking that if anyone deserved all of this, it was Paige.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Nika who was elbowing you in the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“When are you gonna tell her that you love her?” She questions smugly, and your mouth falls open in shock.

You splutter, not even remotely able to form a coherent sentence for a second. She was able to read you like a damn book, and you felt momentarily embarrassed to think that you were that transparent. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve, but you longed to be one of those girls that were just effortlessly cool and almost mysterious. You hated how people could see what you were feeling just by looking at your face, and while you knew your emotional disposition made you who you were, sometimes it felt like it was your personal downfall.

The blaze of your cheeks add fuel to the fire, and Nika giggles as you hide your face in your hands. You sigh defeatedly. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“It’s Paige,” she soothes. “You guys have always had something more than just a friendship. It’ll work out.” She pulls you into another hug, just as Paige walks back over to the two of you. She clears her throat loudly, and you and Nika separate, meeting her eye with your cheeks still flushed from Nika’s observation. 

“Ready to head back to the hotel, princess?” Paige asks you, her blue eyes staring into yours, and she wraps an arm around your waist possessively, drawing you into her and away from her old teammate. 

You smirk at her blatant jealousy, mentally high-fiving yourself that at least she also lacked subtlety when it came to you.

“I don’t know, P,” you trail. “Maybe we should hang out with Nika some more.” You wet your lips as you look up at the Croatian girl, who is looking between you and Paige with a confused look on her face.

“I want you. All to myself,” she responds bluntly, sending a wave of butterflies soaring through your belly and straight down to your pussy.

Paige sends a glare in Nika’s direction, and a flash of realization dawns on the brunette, her face morphing into a look of pure revulsion.

“Hell no, you two better not be getting me in the middle of whatever this is” Nika scolded, her accent coming out, mixing with the disgust in her voice. She was smart, and she clearly saw your attempts to make Paige jealous.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow. Just go fuck each other like I know you want to,” she says crudely, holding back a laugh. “But thanks for coming. I love you both,” Nika beams, waving and walking towards the Seattle locker rooms. 

“Finally,” Paige mutters, interlocking your fingers with hers and pulling you towards the exit.

The uber back to the hotel was eventful, and if Paige’s possessive grip on your thigh during the game didn’t have you completely dripping, the open-mouth kisses she had been pressing to your neck and jaw certainly did.

It was difficult to hold back your moans in front of the uber driver who was already eying you and Paige suspiciously, and you let out a sigh of relief as he pulled in front of your hotel. Racing through the hall and opening up the door, you rush in, Paige hot on your tail. 

“Finally got you all to myself,” Paige murmured, looking down at you through lustful, hooded eyes. Her voice was deep and husky, dripping with want, and it reignited the swarm of butterflies in your belly. 

“About damn time,” you respond flirtily, before connecting your lips with hers with a moan. Her lips taste like the cherry slushy she had drank at the game, and the smoothness of them has you pressing up into her, desperate for more. 

Paige opens her mouth for you, intertwining her tongue with yours before suddenly pulling away. You chase her lips with a pout on your own, confused as to why she was stopping. You look up at her with fake indignance, and she gazes at you with a sadistic glint in her eyes. 

“Strip and get on the bed.” 

Her tone is firm, and the dominance oozing from her words makes every nerve in your body light up, temporarily putting you in a daze. You bite your bottom lip in a bruising tug, looking up at Paige with wide eyes. 

“Now.” 

The forcefulness of it sends jolts through your most intimate area, and you pull your top over your head, throwing it onto the floor haphazardly, your jeans following shortly after. You are left standing in a black bra and matching panties, and Paige has moved to sit in the chair, legs spread wide. 

“I want you completely naked, baby. Don’t get shy with me. Want to see those pretty little marks on your tits,” she drawls, and her voice alone has you nearly panting with lust. There was something so naughty about her watching you strip, and your body erupts in goosebumps in anticipation. 

Your bra comes off first. The cool air of the hotel room hits your nipples, perking them up in a way that makes Paige run her tongue across her bottom lip, soothing it from the incessant biting. Your panties soon follow, and your body flushes as you notice the stickiness of your inner thighs from your own slick. 

You climb onto the plush bed, ass sticking up in the air, wiggling provocatively in order to get a rise out of the watchful blonde. Settling against the mountain of pillows with your legs slightly spread, you stare back at Paige, trying desperately to avoid covering yourself up. Her gaze is burning into your skin like tiny pinpricks of lustful want, and you squirm at the lack of stimulation. 

You knew you looked needy, but Paige loved it, reveling in the mild humiliation of you being spread out for her viewing pleasure.

Not wanting to back down just quite yet, you hold her eye contact until she stands, sauntering over to the end of the bed. Her gaze lowers slowly, starting at the base of your throat where the myriad of hickies begin, trailing down to your tits and across your stomach, landing on your glistening center. 

A shiver runs down your spine, tightening your nipples even more, and you lick your lips in anticipation of what’s to come. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me, princess?” She asks, arms crossed and biceps bulging. 

A slight whine leaves your throat. “Yes, always good for you,” you promise.

However, Paige looks unconvinced, a wry smile plastered on her gorgeous features. “You weren’t being very good after the game. Hanging all over Nika like a little slut.”

Your heart pounds at her degrading words, and you try to come up with a decent excuse. “I-” 

She cuts you off with a wave of the hand and a scoff. “Save it. You think you’re a good girl? Prove it.”

Before you can even ask how to prove it, Paige is stripping and laying on the bed with spread legs. You crawl over to her, wanting to do everything possible to please her, but she stops you before you can attach your mouth to her sopping center.

“If you want to taste me, you gotta beg,” she claims smugly, and you flush at her words. Just yesterday, you had the upper hand, and now here you were, about to beg to eat her out. 

“P…” you trail off, but she was devilishly unrelenting. A wide smirk adorns her face as she spreads her legs a bit more, beckoning you closer towards her slick warmth. 

Realizing that you were in fact going to have to beg, you decide to give in, losing the battle between your pride and your sanity. 

“Please, Paigey…” you whimper, lips in a prominent pout. “I’ll do anything for you. Just let me have a taste.”

Paige pretends to think about it for a second, mockingly tapping her chin. “I suppose a little taste won’t hurt,” she relents, and before she can go back on her words, you dive in like a woman starved. 

A long moan is pulled from the depths of her throat as you lick a long stripe across her pussy, and you welcome the taste. She was obviously just as turned on as you. The sheer depravity of the situation hits you, and you reach down in between your legs to take care of the burning ache. Two small circles against your clit is all you manage to make before Paige is leaning down to swat your hand away with a dissatisfied tut. 

“Nuh uh. Don’t be touching your pretty, little pussy.” 

Your cheeks burn, but she quickly grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guides your head back down. And that’s all the encouragement you need. Soon enough she’s a moaning mess under you, coming undone with your name on her lips, and you’re licking your own, as if she was the most delicious meal you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans. “Such a good girl for me.”

And before you can preen at her praises, she is on top of you. Hot, open mouth kisses are being pressed up and down your neck, alternating between sharp bites and soothing licks, adding to the purple marks. Paige trails her fingers up and down your sides before squeezing at your hips, melding the flesh experimentally. 

“Need more,” you pant out, and she hums against your skin, the vibrations shooting through you add to the overwhelmingness of everything. She is descending down your body now, your belly and hips peppered with kisses, all the way down to your inner thighs. She purposely ignores your aching pussy, and your hips fly up to try and meet the softness of her lips, desperate to feel some stimulation.

“Fuck, P, don’t make me beg again,” you whine, and Paige gives you another wide smirk from between your legs. 

She blows cool air across the heat of your dripping pussy, and mutters, “But it’s so sexy when you beg for me, baby.” 

“Paige, please,” you whimper, drawing out the syllables of her name, and finally she acquiesces. A long string of expletives leave your parted lips as she plunges two fingers into you and swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. Paige’s fingers were magic, pumping unabatedly into you and curling expertly against the ridges of your g-spot. 

You bring a hand up to pull roughly at your nipple, causing Paige to let out a low groan at the sight of you playing with your tits, and the vibration shoots straight through your core. If you hadn’t been so comfortable around Paige, you would almost feel embarrassed about how fast you were coming undone. 

This was some teenage boy shit. 

Your moans grow louder and louder as she adds a third finger, the stretch feeling like nothing from the amount of juices slicking the entrance of your pussy and sliding down your inner thighs. She continues to curve her fingers up to that sweet spot, causing you to see stars, and eats you out with unwavering persistence.

“G-gonna cum,” you moan, and before Paige can respond, you are gushing around her fingers with a high-pitched whine and her name on your lips. She slows down her movements, allowing you to ride out your high, before removing her fingers from you and licking them seductively. 

Fuck she was so hot. 

Paige watches your chest rise and fall while you try to catch your breath, strung out from how good she just fucked you. She thinks that you had never looked so beautiful, skin glowing from the lamp of the hotel and the sheen of your sweat adding to the radiance. You’re looking back at her in sheer adoration, wondering how you got so lucky to be in this predicament. 

“God, that just keeps getting better every time,” you giggle once you catch your breath, and Paige chuckles, nodding in agreement. She heads to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean you up, and once she does, she pulls you under the covers, and you think that life could not possibly get better. 

The two of you bask in the glow of orgasms and an overall fondness for one another, both silently musing over how much your relationship had changed in the last few days. As if Paige was reading your thoughts, you hear her whisper, “I don’t think I can go back to just being friends with you.” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I was thinkin’ the same thing,” you mumble, grateful that you could forego the awkward ‘what are we’ conversation. “I don’t think we were ever really just friends,” you add, you cheeks pink as you recall all the flirty moments that had occurred between you and the blonde.

“True,” Paige says, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, glad we figured that out.” She pulls you in for another kiss, this time sweet and innocent, without the fire that sex tends to follow. It was all you really needed. Paige was all you really needed. 

And when you sit down in your seat on the airplane the following day, you smile as the memories replay in your mind. Love was forged from nothing but a friendship reformed due to a silly little plane ride and a silly little pet name. 

~

woohoo! let me know what you think!! xoxo

[from-izzy]

sip and learn | the boyz kim sunwoo

“Got you a morning drink,” rattling the ice inside the cylinder and putting it where his mark prettily shows. “Probably should put it on there. They say it’s good to ice your bruises.”

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » situationship au, non-idol au

genre »​ mildly suggestive (as compared to this), a bit of fluff...?, sunwoo likes to tease the reader who is in denial :D, flirty sunwoo and reader who is not to resistant to it, whipped kim sunwoo

word count, estimated reading time » 2407, ~9 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » suggestive!!, dom! sunwoo (and flustered reader), kissing and making out, they're in public but no one is around, dirty/suggestive talking (allusions to s*x), sunwoo kind of pulls the reader to his lap and carries you, sunwoo giving you a drink through kissing you, marking (sunwoo to reader), pet name (baby girl, baby boy), swearing, dirty minded sunwoo (oop), sunwoo is physically bigger and taller, rapid proofread a couple of times

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist

...hm-

Finally.

It turns out that universities do care about some of their students’ health after all. After a gruelling non-stop six weeks' worth of content, you're finally excited to not only catch up on some of the work you don't manage to touch but also that you won't have to watch lectures that seem like carbon copies of your textbook. In addition to that, you also get the choice to stay indoors all week which is a dream for all overworked students. 

Sitting in a slightly quiet area under the trees accompanied by your friend is one of the best ways to end the tiring six weeks. All is nice and cool as you let the wind brush against your skin, sighing at the temperature. Your friend follows you shortly after but disrupts the peace with a question.

The tip of her shoe hits yours, “So, how was the date?”

The implying tone from your relaxed best friend caused you to roll your eyes, “It wasn’t a date. It was just a hangout.”

“Oh yeah, I bet,” she agreed sarcastically. “How many times did you kiss him while you were at it?” 

The information was about to spill out from your mouth without a second thought. You were so close to embarrassing yourself with the fact that you were not only all over Kim Sunwoo’s lips yesterday, but all around that annoyingly handsome face of his and slightly down his neck. The heat rises to your cheek but you play it cool by shrugging your shoulders, pushing last night’s events to the back of your head. 

The way you responded only elicits an amused chuckle from your best friend. She knows you're avoiding the truth. “Stop pretending not to be in love with him,” she sighs. “Your denial is getting so damn embarrassing.” 

You relaxed your eyelids close once more, focusing on nature instead with your palms behind your back to lean. “It's not embarrassing because I'm not even in denial about that loser.”

You allow yourself to ramble some more, listing points to prove to her that you're not in love with the man. Usually, your friend would give you unconvincing hums which you're now used to. But the lack of response from her made you uneasy, as even though you had your eyes closed, the image of her raised eyebrows and the corner of her lips slightly raised is clear in your mind. 

That is the expression you're greeted with when you bring yourself back to reality. However, her eyes were nowhere near you, a mischievous smile growing bigger at the sight of a familiar person approaching you from behind. Your eye twitches, knowing exactly who it was. You dusted the sand and dirt remnants from your palm, ready to stand up to your feet when a force behind weights you back down.

You yelp slightly at the force, your now dirty palms again stopping you face planting to the Earth.

“Kim fucking Sunwoo!” You called out the man who secured his hold around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Get off me, you fucking stink.”

“Really?” The boy does the opposite, sitting down and spreading his legs beside your thighs, pulling you closer to his chest. “Last time I checked I smelled pretty good.”

He does. You're not going to admit that though. 

“Yeah, maybe after spending time at a rubbish bin.”

Your friend couldn't help but snicker at that. She wonders if you would give the poor boy a break sometime but seeing you both like this, obviously love sick for each other, she chose to make this her everyday entertainment. 

“Okay,” your friend collected her things. “I'll see you soon,” winking at you. “And you,” pointing at Sunwoo, “Please use protection.”

“Hey!”

“Will do!”

You whip your head back to Sunwoo’s sharp jawline, slapping his arm at the comment. When your friend was comfortably out of space, a finger traced along the front of your bra’s underband. The courageous touch in public made you yelp a little. Your reaction didn’t faze him at all because he predicted it all; you fold with even the smallest touch of him after all. 

“Feeling sensitive, baby girl?” The airyness of his husky voice sent chills down your spine. It also sent your stomach doing flips and your hands stopped slapping him for a change. 

“No,” you answer softly. Trying to push off is futile as you learnt from past events and so you let him win, taking a mental note to lecture him later.

“Baby girl…” the tip of his nose brushes along the underside of your jawline, shuddering at the light touch as he just ghosts over your slowly heating skin. 

Though tight, your lips displayed a smile. From the corner of your eye, you know he’s enjoying the situation, “In front of everyone?” Turns out you couldn’t keep your question for later. 

“There's literally no one here,” you felt his shoulders shrug. An arm stays secure around your waist, the other guiding your chin to face him. “You smell delicious,” the whisper hits the shell of your ear so gracefully that your gulp becomes audible. 

Sunwoo doesn't bother hiding the fact that he's focused on your lips, licking his own as he struggles to keep himself from tasting you. While his index and thumb keep you still, his other fingers brush against your skin intricately. The smooth motions contrast his darkening orbs. You’re in fear that you will fold for him in public now.

You are not going to be defeated by Kim Sunwoo. Not when he made you fold for him hard yesterday.

But it’s unfortunate for you that he knows exactly what you’re thinking of.

Sunwoo turns your head away from your alluring lips as he has other plans for now. His supple lips land on the side of your neck and he starts to suck on your skin. You expected just a peck, especially with the setting, but it became clear to you that nothing mattered to him. 

Whimpering moans slip out of your lips and Sunwoo smiles momentarily at the beginning of his work on the crook of your neck before going back in. At first, he’s disappointed that no one is staying for the show but then it gives him all the more reason to gape his lips and suck on your skin.

“Sunwoo-” You gasp out as your palm is back to giving him a physical reminder on his arm around your middle. “Fucking hell…”

He hums against your skin before pulling away, licking his lips at the subtle mark he left on you. Needless to say, you won’t be able to cover that up with your clothing. The lovesick boy doesn’t stop there when he directs your eyes back to lock his, sending you a message that makes your body slightly shudder. You weren’t sure what the gaze meant but all you knew was that it was the same look he gave after he would kiss you breathless; just like last night.

His hand retracts yet you don’t dare to break the eye contact. Knowing that he had an effect on you, Sunwoo maintained it, feeling slightly competitive about how you’re not backing down, not even looking at his plump lips. Sunwoo blindly reaches to the inside of his bag beside him, cluttering around until he finds the icy-cold cylinder that he bought for you earlier on.

“Got you a morning drink,” rattling the ice inside the cylinder and putting it where his mark prettily shows. “Probably should put it on there. They say it’s good to ice your bruises.”

The mention of a new mark made you lose the unspoken game as you used your front camera like a mirror. You didn’t even need to crane or tilt your neck too far to see what he was talking about and at the top corner of the screen, you could also see the start of a smirk growing on his face.

“Kim Sunwoo!” It’s so obvious, brighter than the sunlight above you. “I swear, Kim Sunwoo…” Glaring at the radiant man through your phone.

“Oh!” He exclaimed before snatching your phone. “You should take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Sunwoo kept his locking hold around your waist, positioning your phone closer to the sky. He takes a couple with varying angles and closeness, as well as how close his lips were to your heating skin. You jolt at the innocent kisses he left, leaving supple traces of his love and his breathy chuckle made you relax against his chest. “Now the two sides of your neck are matching.”

The image of last night flashes. The way Sunwoo cupped your cheeks, discarding his ice cream when he chose to lick the remnants of yours from your lips. The way he held the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to the point that you eventually sat on his strong, bulky thighs. The way he foreshadows the darker kiss mark on your neck when he moves his mouth across the side of your face, going off track with your jawline before rerouting to his main aim. The smacking of each other’s lips grew louder as the makeout session turned more intense. How his finger slowly lifted the skirt you were wearing, shuddering at the cold wind and the tiny circles that glided across your skin. Last night, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, was amazing.

You hope it was the same for him too.

The plastic seal clicks and is broken, pulling you back into reality. “Drink this,” he beams after chuckling at the way you look at him half-dazed. “I think you’ll like this.”

“Absolutely not,” swatting the drink away from you and keeping your ground. “You probably put shit in it.”

“Baby girl,” Sunwoo warns, voice lowering. Before you knew it, Sunwoo leans forward to slither an arm below the back of your knee, twirling you and resting your legs onto his thigh. This position made it easier for him to see you now that half your face was easily within his view. “It wasn’t a question,” he says as his palm holds a thigh, fingers spreading to increase his presence on your body. “You will like this.”

Another eyebrow raises and an inaudible shake of your head is what you give him.

His scoff resonates and hits you. You thought you won when he gulped the beverage himself and for a second, your muscles relaxed and a grin stretched across your lips. Your relief goes undetected by him because as soon as he feels the way your body reacts to him gulping his efforts for you, his palm that was once on your thigh slips down to one of your lower cheeks to remind you who has always had the upper hand between you both.

Your eyes widen at his gesture and to make things worse, Sunwoo leaves one last mouthful of the drink before he securely attaches his lips to yours. He angles his head down and tilts your neck up, something that he never does and the difference in routine alarms you. You end up understanding what he’s doing because with the betrayal of your lips parting when Sunwoo’s thumb nudges your chin down, with the help of gravity, he opens his mouth and empties the drink to you. He chases your lips at your surprise and holds you close to prevent you from pulling away. Some escapes from the corner of your lips that never fully touched his but he wipes it skillfully with the pad of his thumb, making a trail of the sweet tea, dripping from your jawline to where he kissed you earlier and letting your clothes suck up all of his glory. The way he cups your face, gently resting the apple of your cheek while his lips move slowly is all intimate to you, reaching out to his wrist for stability. 

When his mouth is empty, Sunwoo pulls away and your neck relaxes. The look of surprise on your face is entertaining and his bangs fall attractively in front of his cunning eyes. After moving back a bit, he sees how your cheeks are not fully empty. “Swallow,” he orders, brushing his thumb on the sensitive spot of your neck. “Like every single time you’ve done for me, baby girl.” No one could see the images that played in your head but the flashes only ran faster and more intense with his raised eyebrow.

Despite your self-talk not to let him win, you obeyed.

You gulp at the way he phrases his words for you, complimenting you on something that is human nature. The flavoured drink runs down your throat smoothly, the back of your hand wiping any remnants on your lower face. It wasn’t long until you realised that yet again, Kim Sunwoo was right: you did like the beverage; and maybe something else that he did along with that. Your tongue pokes out between your lips, savouring the taste and you had to stop yourself from going on your toes to chase his lips for some more.

“Good,” he praises you. “Was that so hard, hm?” 

“You’re insane, Kim Sunwoo.” 

“Ah yes,” Sunwoo nods proudly. “Or you could just say you liked what I did.”

As if you would. “Ok now, let me go, you dick.” 

The mention of the body part only made it worse for you and he didn’t bother masking his dirty idea to you. To the public, he looked like an abandoned puppy, kicked and forgotten on the street with his eyes wide open, begging for some love and care for anyone who passed by. His lower lips jutted out despite the scowl on your face.

“I’m just a boy…” His words trailing off towards the end. “Your baby boy…” The mention of the nickname you reserve only for him lands him a smack on his broad chest. 

“You’re literally twen-”

“Just a boy,” he repeated before wiggling his eyebrows. “You need to take care of me,” his palm on your lower body moves once more, reminding you that he has never let you go. “Next time you should’ve just sipped the drink, but now?” Effortlessly, Sunwoo held your flustered figure in his arms while you naturally clung your arms around his neck as he raised and began walking towards his car. “You get to learn.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist

tags: @deoboyznet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @sanaxo-o @hursheys

[starry-fame]

18+ Overboard [Caleb x Gender Neutral!reader/MC]

Summary:

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

Like a moth to a flame, you follow.

Tags: Smut, Pining, Confessions, Porn with feelings, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Body Worship, Penetration, Rough Sex, Begging Ambiguous Genitalia!reader/MC, Gender neutral!reader/MC

Word Count: 11,734

Author's Notes: I posted this a while ago on ao3 and wanted to try tumblr as well! I can also post silly MC stuff and character edits haha. Anyway, I hope Caleb lovers enjoy! Also, certain parts technically aren't canon as of A World Underneath release, but that's okay :')

Ao3 Check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill!

Masterlist

Sequel - Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

It burns.

The air’s filled with plumes of smoke, darkened to an ugly red clouded in ash. It waters your eyes and fills your lungs with soot, wracking you with dry coughs that destroy your throat. It’s hot — so hot — your body feels heavy. You’re crawling — you think? But the ground seems to slide beneath you, and your palms scrape against the concrete, bloodied.

Though your ears ring a terrible, destitute tune and your chest cries in agony — the only thing your mind screams is to get away. Run. Crawl. Slide. Drag your useless limbs and get away. You have to run; stand up and run but your body just lays there.

It’s coming. You can’t get away — you’ll die. You don’t want to die. Shelter’s right there. So close — so close. You drag past a mangled, severed arm, and instantly retch. But you keep moving. So near. Right there. But the sound of inhuman dragging grates your ears behind you and—

Your eyes shoot open, body doused in a sheen of sweat and heart ready to burst. The sheets feel far too sticky and clammy under your fingers and you’re quick to peel them off — rid yourself of anything that makes you feel hot. Confined.

One breath, two, three… it takes a moment to gather your bearings. You’re not freshly seven drowning in a sea of pain and desperate tears. You’re in your childhood home, resting on your sheets and surrounded by memories of the past.

Seems that no matter how much time passes, your dreams will always find a way to torment you as though you lived them yesterday.

What a mood-killer. You’re finally in your old home after an extended absence, and all your mind can do is taunt you by conjuring up your darkest memories.

The room’s bathed in darkness — a glance at your watch shows it’s late in the middle of the night. Not exactly time to rise, but you’re not so trusting of your dreams either. The sweat that dampens your brows and the front of your shirt feels disgusting, so you fan yourself mindlessly. You have to do something, be anywhere but here.

You’re quick to stand, stumbling a little from the sudden shift in gravity. Your eyes are still bleary, crusted, and you rub at them as you trudge out your room.

The house is dead silent, which only makes the sound of your footsteps more apparent, has you silently wincing at every step. Still, you do your best to move quiet as you can to the fridge. Grab yourself a water and chug about half of it in one gulp, cooling your clammy skin and ridding that feeling of scalding — of hot ash coating your throat. You enjoy the crinkle of the cool bottle in your grasp, how the mundane, predictable noise reminds you of reality and the now.

The incessant buzz of crickets in the distance is almost calming. The house is otherwise tranquil and calm. Peace and — you hear a quiet thump. Okay, not as quiet as you thought. Setting the bottle down, you slowly turn toward the noise, reminding your quickening pulse that unless your hunter’s watch is buzzing with a warning, there’s no imminent danger.

A few footsteps and… a tall figure emerges from the doorway, bending so he can properly fit through. Though he’s doused in shadow and you can only make out the slight glimmer of his two-toned irises, his name naturally falls from your lips.

“Caleb…”

“Thought I heard someone sneaking around in here. Why am I not surprised?” He languidly strides across the moonlit room, pausing to gently ruffle your hair like its tradition; he’s been doing it for so long, it might as well be. Even when you two were little and you had a bit of height on him (he’d prop up on his tip toes to pat your head — it was pretty adorable, in hindsight.) So you can’t bring yourself to swat his hand away as he goes for the fridge to grab a drink of his own.

Instead of drinking, though, Caleb pauses and scrutinizes the water, like it did a personal wrong to him. Before you get the chance to probe his mind, he presses the chilled bottle against your forehead. The cold makes you flinch on instinct and shoot a quick glare at him.

“What was that for?”

“Wake up call. Did you get thirsty in the middle of the night? Or you just can’t sleep?” He raises a brow, wearing a grin coated with worry as he takes a drink. Caleb’s always been terribly perceptive, he seemed to just know when you were having a terrible day or if something was amiss. Whether it was the years you’ve spent in each other’s company or Caleb’s innate sensitivity to human emotion, you have no clue. A mix of both, maybe.

Like always, he watches. You look away.

“Thirsty.”

“Uh huh. And I guess all that thirst’s what made your eyes red. You’re looking a little hot there too. Should I crank up the A/C?” Caleb raises a brow, and you wonder why he even bothers asking when he comes to his own conclusions. He should hardly be able to tell these things in the dark — does he just know? Or are the faint streaks of moonlight through the window just enough to tell him everything he needs?

“It’s not a bad thing to admit when you’re having nightmares, y’know. I mean, when you were a kid, you’d come knocking on my door in near tears and—“

“I get it, Caleb. I don’t need the whole rundown.” You snap, fighting the immediate embarrassment that wells up at your vulnerability and dependence as a child. For how strong you like to deem yourself now, it’s not like that was always the case. You were an easily frightened kid, especially jumpy after the attack. You clung to everyone and everything around you because you lost everything you held dear once before.

“And for the record,” you add, “it was a two way street. I can name a few times you came to my room saying you just wanted to talk. You look like you’d been crying for the past hour.” Right. Seeking solace in one another because you were confused kids who had their lives flipped upside down in a single afternoon.

You and Caleb were friends before the tragedy, neighbors who played together a few times at most. Not best friends, but he was the nice kid down the block you enjoyed spending time with.

When you found Caleb during the Catastrophe, you remember like it was only days ago. Crawling frantically, trying not to collapse from the pain that engulfed your being enough to make your vision swirl. In the makeshift shelter, you saw a few injured adults — some minimal, some fatal, and even fewer children crying tended to by lesser wounded adults. You could barely sit up. Someone tried to offer assistance, you think, but then a kid your size rushed beside you and knelt down, asking if you were okay.

Your ears were ringing and you could barely get a noise out, but you could tilt your head up and see those raven eyes with a hint of amber, full of absolute terror. You whispered his name so hoarse — “Caleb…” and like the turning of a faucet, an ugly mesh of tears and mucus immediately began streaming down your face. The smell of red — death, the sights, your bloodied hands, aching body, screaming heart, all honed in at once. All you could do was sob while Caleb knelt down beside you and cradled your head, tears prickling his eyes. It didn’t take long for you two to break down in one another’s arms.

From then on, you couldn’t help but stick to Caleb like glue. Caleb was the only person you had connected to your old life — the only remaining stability when everything else crumbled to dust. When you were bundled in your room and didn’t even want to talk to Grandma because she was some strange adult whom you now lived with — Caleb would sit in with you. He’d remain as long as he had to, validate every last awful thought you had in your frustrations and soothe you with sweet caresses and gentle words. As embarrassing as it is to recall, as a child, he was your lifeline. Caleb’s the reason you didn’t run away in a frenzy when everything was too much and you felt like you just needed to be away and gone. He’s the reason you were able to eventually adapt to your new lifestyle and warm up to Grandma over time. It’s ridiculous, really, how much Caleb meant and was able to do for you by just existing as himself. Caleb could sit in your room minding his business, and his presence alone was enough to soothe your tired limbs and mind from punching your pillows and recalling every terrible thing that happened that fated day.

He was always there for you, one way or another. It’s just the way it’s always been.

It’d be nice if you had something of an effect like that on him, too.

“Right. Because sometimes a little chat is all you need when you’re not doing so hot,” Caleb says, leaning on the counter and gesturing his bottle to you. Yeah, just like him alright, to flip it around on you even when you try to call him out. Makes it feel like every conversation with him is a losing battle, like he always has the upper hand because he knows just the right thing to say and how to say it.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I had a nightmare. Happy?” You sigh, resigned at this point. You can’t even really be angry when Caleb’s been nothing but reasonable from the start, speaks out of pure care and concern. Rather, perhaps it’s the fact that he’s always reasonable you tend to get irate.

“‘Course not. It’s not like I like hearing you still get them. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of keeping it all to yourself, right?” His eyes crinkle so sweetly, non-judgmental. It’s that look that always breaks you, forces you to spill anything and everything he can pull from you. He never takes advantage, just offers support, so you fall into his trap every time.

“It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I can’t just run to you every time I have a bad dream,” you still utter. It’s weak at best, but you can’t toss all your issues onto Caleb like you did as a child. He lost everything that day too, and he still took the time to comfort and spoil you every single time you sought him out (or he came to you), no matter the day or hour. How many of those times did he cry himself, but choke back the tears just so he could attend to you?

“I didn’t say all that. But it’s not gonna kill you to quit bottling up your emotions, y’know.” The amber in Caleb’s eyes seem to flash, and yours flicker down in turn. Sometimes it feels like he still sees the same seven-year-old you once were, pitiful and dependent.

“I… know that. It’s just….”

A heavy breath leaves Caleb’s nose. He closes his eyes, sits on his words, and opens them with a twinkle of clarity.

“You gonna fall back asleep soon?”

You blink. “Huh?” Caleb doubles down.

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

You’ll let him have this one though; swallow your complaints and choose his method. You dip your head and follow him to his room, still decorated with posters of My Life as a Hunter and old-school shooter games he raved over as a kid. Though he grew a passion for piloting after a period, he still had an interest in Hunter shows as an early teen, posters and figures scattered about his room proof as such. You think they existed in attempt to ease the public into the idea of Hunters, hell, even to coerce a few impressionable people in the process. A small part of you always wanted a way to reign in control of your life, to be someone who can do the saving, not sit in tears and wait to be saved. The show just increased your resolve, if anything. Though, you remember a short period where Caleb tried to convince you otherwise.

Eventually, you think he understood well enough to quietly show his support, if only because you weren’t backing down. And it tickles the nose a little, knowing you’re now something he admired with sparkling eyes as a kid.

Like always, he sits on his bed, and you take a spot in the swivel chair at his desk, idly spinning back and fourth. There’s a dim, pale night light to give the room a low glow. It’s easy on the eyes and you can still comfortably make out the ridges of Caleb’s face, his indiscernible expression when he settles and just seems to think.

“…Feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” You murmur, eyes trailing around each and every corner. You well with nostalgia, so much it makes your heart ache, bittersweet.

“Yeah, guess we didn’t get much time once I left. Not soon after you were off getting your Hunter’s license, so we were both pretty busy,” Caleb responds, and you wonder if he feels the same way you do. A tinge of sadness, but serenity at the familiar scene. Getting to sit in one another’s company like you always would in the past.

“Getting used to you not always being around was…” It feels embarrassing to just admit how much you missed him, how empty the house felt without his lively presence. “Hard. Harder than I expected, anyway.”

“It was weird not waking up to Gran’s cooking or your demands, that’s for sure.”

“Demands?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You always act so proper around other people, but not with me and Gran. Everyone needs a place to loosen up, someone you can just be yourself around. And a little selfish.” Caleb’s laugh makes your cheeks warm, though your ears seem to love it. It fills you with various memories and you realize man, you really missed Caleb. When you talk, it’s like you two were never separated. But it’s times like these the feeling of truly getting to see him every day, just be with him, swells in your heart. You sigh, grasp your nightshirt, and peer at Caleb through your lashes because you fear how telling your expression is.

“Then… is it the same for you? Or was it easier to loosen up around your friends?” You ask nonchalantly, as though the question wasn’t gnawing at you from the inside out. Did Caleb feel at home, or like he had to put on a show and be the ‘strong one’, only able to let loose when he’s around peers and not biting off more than he can chew?

“Mmm…” You hear a low hum, and fingers ghost over your forehead, gone before you can even get a noise out. Caleb watches you intently, enough to make you break his gaze first. He looks pleased.

“It’s different with other friends, sure. Because you’re not them, and they’re not you. There’s ways I can relax with them, and reasons I can relax here,” he answers. His gaze feels loaded, and you vaguely wonder if there’s more to that answer with how his eyes bore into you. But you bite your tongue and decide to let the question go unsaid.

“I see.”

Caleb’s gaze persists. It’s gentle, not demanding of anything, or even expectant. But for some reason, it makes you want to turn away so you don’t have to be subject to it.

“I did miss home y’know, pipsqueak.” You wonder if that’s what Caleb was watching for, trying to see if you were silently doubtful. You bite your lip and decide to just let the words spill out before your pride makes you swallow them whole.

“I missed you.”

Caleb’s eyelids widen almost imperceptibly, but you still catch it. He blinks, and they relax with this look that feels fond, but also seems to carry another aspect you can’t decipher with so little light.

The sound of crickets buzz in the distance. The extended silence makes your grip tighten on the arm rest.

“This necklace is nice, y’know. Whenever anyone asks, I get to bring you up. They probably get sick of it after a while,” Caleb murmurs, and he lifts the silver chain you placed around his neck, ruby glimmering in the light. Knowing he kept it, the way he so proudly handles the chain, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You tell other people about me?”

“So much they could probably write an essay. How you’d cling to me as a kid, when we’d hang out together, how, for a short while, we were all the other had.” Caleb squeezes the chain and lets it dangle against his tee, expression gentle, and part of you wishes you had a chain too. Something to remind you of Caleb, an excuse to think or talk about him. To rub between your fingers and recall a time you were both in a fit of laughter, young, happy and free.

“I relied on you a lot. More than you deserved, especially as a kid. …Sorry.”

“Seriously?” Caleb gapes, and a snort leaves his mouth. “Never thought I’d hear that. But you don’t have to—no. I don’t want you to apologize. It was nice. Part of me kinda misses it. I mean I get it, you can handle your own. It’s not like you need me looking after you anymore, but… I liked it. And nowadays, I can’t help wanting to at least support you,” Caleb shrugs, like those words don’t penetrate your core and settle deep in your chest, breath hitching. A million responses swim through your mind, none of them breaking the surface.

“Oh, uh…” It’s… embarrassing, hearing that blatantly said aloud.

“And, to be perfectly clear, I missed you too,” he adds. Your throat bobs. You enjoy hearing those words from his mouth, the way he says them so easily with a hint of affection. While it’s enough to make your body feel flush with embarrassment, it’s nice he’s never too stubborn to show his care. If anything, you’re far more stubborn in admitting your feelings. Perhaps that’s why you told yourself to just say it, not let the pride win and be honest every once in a while.

“It… sucks. I only get to see you for a few days at most and poof, you’re gone,” you gesture along with your words, hastily getting them out while you still have the weak confidence to. “Your cooking, waking up to you everyday, when you get me little snacks just because…” Your legs swing back and fourth, antsy, but your heart feels lighter when you can freely speak your mind, say all the things you were too prideful to say as a kid.

Caleb listens silently with solicitous eyes. His mouth parts, closes again, and he seems to swallow. You time the kick of your legs, so you don’t start kicking them faster while you’re left on the waiting end, mute until Caleb responds.

“It’s pretty dull not having your own personal 5-star chef, huh?” He finally says, with a grin, and you softly deflate. Your legs slow to a stop, and your heart feels heavy again.

“Yeah… I… I guess—“

“No,” Caleb hisses under his breath. You think it’s to himself. But he leans forward on his duvet and reaches up, brushing his fingers over the jut of your eyebrows so light you can barely feel the touch. Your eyes shut reflectively, and his hand eases to your cheek, knuckles gently sliding down. You peek an eye at the sudden touch, trying to not make your mild startle too known. He’s the type to stroke your head or push you away in jest. This brand of touch is new. Foreign.

Your lips tremble and Caleb’s eyes flicker down to them.

“I’d do all those things every day, if I could. Listen to you get ridiculously excited about those rare kitty cards, see you when I get home from work; when you get home from work…” His knuckles trail down to your chin, dangerously close to your lips.

You inhale slowly, and try not to show your panic when your heart begins to beat an erratic rhythm. This is the first time Caleb’s ever made your heart race — like this anyway, and a flurry of thoughts and emotions you never dared consider all invade you at once. If you were standing, you’d stumble on the spot.

“I miss seeing your mug, what can I say?” Caleb laughs, gives your face two playful pats, and retracts his fingers. You withhold the urge to chase them, press his palm against your cheek. Instead, you bite the inside of your cheek to curb the desire.

They’re nothing but strange thoughts in the heat of the moment, a little too drawn in by the touch of his fingers after not seeing him for so long. Equating nostalgia with attraction is not a good look, and you know to smother it in its wisps before it engulfs into a bed of flames.

“When — when we were kids it was kind of like this,” you begin, trying to even out the tremor in your voice. “We weren’t telling each other we missed one another, of course. But I’d sit in this chair. And you’d wipe my tears when I was sad. No matter how long it took.” You say, and you know you’re just making conversation to push your mind away from uncouth thoughts. With luck, Caleb won’t pick up on a thing.

“Yeah, you were a bit of a crybaby. Always barging in, no matter the time, just to have someone to cry to. It was pretty cute, though.” Caleb stands slowly, already no more than a foot in front of you, and he bends down to rest one hand on the armrest while the other palm holds your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye. “Just like this.”

This… feels dangerous. The part of you that automatically reacts to his teasing wants to glare and push his hand away, scoffing and spouting some retort. That’s how you should respond, how he expects you to.

This new, faint part of you wants to close your eyes and lean your cheek into his palm, turn your head so your lips rest on his fingertips. You do neither, and just peer up at him through your lashes, too scared to tilt your head up and have your face reveal every dirty thought racing through your brain.

“It was cute when you’d come to me, too. You’d sit next to me, trying to act all strong. Then I’d pat your shoulder and you’d go ‘I’m not crying’ while you kept wiping your eyes. Couldn’t fool a baby. But it made me happy. That you came to me,” You speak, and reach up to Caleb’s shoulder, giving it a few soft pats. “Just like this.”

Caleb’s fingers dig into the armrest though his face remains moderately amused. He tilts his head, murmurs a “Guess we were both the type to tear up,” with a cryptic smile, and moves to pull his hand away.

Subconsciously, against any rational thought, you chase after him and hold tight to his shoulder, other hand keeping Caleb’s palm firmly in place.

He blinks once, twice. The moment is palpable. You know you can’t explain yourself out of this, but your gut instinct just doesn’t care. It craves to stay in Caleb’s proximity, to keep him by you. Like he’d melt away if you let go, and the moment would be lost to eternity.

“Pipsqueak?” He murmurs, rubbing a curious thumb across your cheek and it’s all you can really take. You feel the way Caleb tenses up when you bury your nose in his palm, when you shakily inhale and just settle into its warmth. You think you’re trembling a little, and fear eats at your racing heart. Fear of shattering the relationship you have — pushing beyond the bounds of your preconceived ‘normal’. This isn’t what you and Caleb are. Caleb calls you an infuriatingly affectionate nickname when he checks up on you. You and Caleb bicker about mindless things and easily make up in a few hours because Caleb always gives in. You and Caleb were friends since you were children, kids who played together, teens who begrudgingly got along, and adults who were still close and made efforts to visit home on your shared time off.

It wasn’t whatever the hell this was. And the guilt that rises in your throat is immense, taking Caleb’s actions to make them something they’re not — twisting his kind gestures into something awful. You force yourself to recede from his palm, mouth open to utter a soft apology.

Just as that soft ‘sorry’ passes your lips, Caleb coaxes your head up, peers long and hard into your eyes, like he’s searching the depths to find whatever it is he seeks, needs.

You think he finds it, because his breath hitches, the hand on your face seems to quiver, and his face leans so close to yours. Not touching, no, his hot breaths ghost over your lips, his nose tickling your cheek. You swallow thickly, and the warmth from his proximity spreads like wildfire.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers, urgent. Almost desperate, like it takes every ounce of self-restraint to remain as he is. So near but never bridging the small gap.

“I…” You start, knowing this is the tipping point. He’s still kind enough to give you an out, to let you reject any notion of whatever this is and pretend none of it ever happened. Makes it seem like he doesn’t want it to happen. Caleb’s always been kind like that. And maybe, in the long run, it would be the better option. To not risk destroying the relationship you’ve built and nurtured for well over a decade.

But, meeting his pleading eyes with your own, you know the only words that can leave your mouth. It’s the sole thought that repeated over and over in tandem with each shaky sigh that parted from his pink lips.

Slowly opening your mouth, you take the plunge. “I do.”

You don’t know whether Caleb’s face flashes with relief or pain — maybe both — and his lips press so deep into yours, slow and heated. It elicits a quiet, gasping noise from your throat that Caleb swallows. You have to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself because his kisses are starved, like he’s been craving this moment forever and you wonder if that’s really the case. His hand on the armrest moves down to grasp your thigh and a pleased noise rumbles in the back of your throat, his thumb stroking the inside of it so tenderly you could tremble. The sense of relief, of immediate euphoria of having this man on your lips almost makes you wanna cry as he kisses you senseless, licks his tongue into your mouth and coaxes every soft noise he can with each repeated press of his lips. When your fingers sneak up to his neck, quiet sounds hum in his throat and they envelop your mind, drugging you with the sound and feel of him. You could do this for hours, kiss Caleb until the only thing your mouth knows is the taste of him.

“I can’t believe —“ Caleb gasps between breathless kisses, speaking against your lips and sliding his hand down to rest on the junction of your head and neck. You tremble and he pecks the corner of your mouth in response, as though to soothe you. “You’re actually—“ He kisses at your cheek, then your nose affectionately. You feel the heat rise in your neck and avert your gaze out of pure embarrassment. “Letting me…” He laughs against your cheek, face alight and you hope the pain you perceived earlier is a little lessened now.

“I didn’t know you wanted to…” You murmur, and stretch your neck up again to capture his lips. Somehow, each kiss only seems to improve upon the last, and when his fingers slide against your neck, a quiet moan vibrates in your throat. Caleb pulls back with low lids and ragged breaths, lips pinker than you’ve ever seen and covered with a sheen of saliva. Kiss swollen’s never a look you imagined on him, but you quite like it.

“Guess I’m good at keeping secrets then,” Caleb says in a huff of soft laughter, and he’s gently tugging, guiding your body up and off the chair to sit beside him on the duvet. “Or,” he leans down and pets the front of your throat, lips steady against your fluttering pulse. “You’re just stupidly oblivious.”

“There’s no way I would’ve…” you begin to murmur as your fingers clench on his nightclothes. Your body reacts to the sensation of his lips kissing every bit of skin he can reach on your neck, licking but mindful enough to not leave marks and the consideration alone is hot enough to make you shudder.

Could you have? Your mind is hazy and each time Caleb mouths at your throat you lose it a little more, but you vaguely replay memories in your mind. Caleb’s mindfulness, his perception, his endless kindness — but he’s like that with everyone, so how could you have known you were special beyond your friendship and shared past? Granted you probably got a little extra pampering from him — but you shared a home. Of course you’d get more if you saw him more.

“Good. I was never gonna tell you, y’know,” he breathes. His large hands gently ease you backwards and you comply, letting him press you against the mattress. It smells like a mix of him — that same oak body wash he’s used since he was a teen (thankfully you bullied him out of that terrible smelling cologne phase), and fresh detergent from the laundry he took care of earlier. You resist the urge to turn your head and bury it into the covers, inhale deep, for you’re sure it’d come off as a little strange.

“Never?”

“Never.” He rests his forearms next to your head, face mere inches away. He seems to like watching you, those dimly lit eyes of his boring into you. “I mean, I thought about it sometimes. But we’ve known each other what, sixteen years now? We played together since we were preschoolers,” he sighs, thumb brushing over your cheek. His face is so raw and open, flushed and longing. Like he can finally spill every dirty little secret he’s kept hidden forever. His thumb moves to swipe across your lip and you kiss it — innocently enough. His breath stutters.

Then you open your mouth, gently suck on the digit, and he stops breathing altogether.

“Mm…” You hum in agreement, though with the way Caleb’s eyes darken, you figure it more resembles a moan.

“Damn,” he curses, and experimentally swipes across your tongue. You shamelessly take his thumb in deeper, revel in the way his lips tremble and he bites them, as though to curb some thought or action that sprung in his mind in response.

“You’re friends with someone that long, you figure there’s no chance. Figured you saw me as a brother or something. I mean, I kinda did it to myself,” he speaks, but looks absolutely enthralled by your mouth around his thumb. The way you swirl your tongue around him, encouraging him to just let go. You think his words are half spoken on instinct with how dazed and red-faced he looks.

“Fuck , if I just knew…” Caleb hisses, and he leans forward for balance, forehead pressed against yours (he’s so warm) while his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, resting just below your navel. The proximity to your waistband makes you subconsciously squirm a little, and his hand presses firmer, stilling your hips. “I could’ve done this so much sooner.”

You try to murmur a response past his thumb but the welcome intrusion makes your words incoherent. He gently retracts it from your lips to press against them, saliva coating his thumb, your lips, and wetting your chin.

“What’s that, pipsqueak?” He murmurs. You feel his hand creep up to trace your abdomen, catch at your side and massage there mindlessly.

“For someone who wants to do this so bad…” you sigh, and look up at him, unamused, trying not to let your mild fluster show. It seems even pinned under him, you can’t help but want to be a bit of a brat in his presence. “You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

Caleb’s brow twitches and he completely stills, staring at you with those gorgeous sunset eyes of his up close. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and his fingers on your torso squeeze, not painful, just a firm hold.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you?” he finally exhales, exasperation plain on his face. He affectionately rubs his forehead against yours, the gesture so sweet it makes your heart swell. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that spurred me on.”

And like a man on a mission, the sweet moment is gone, replaced by greedy lips and needy hands. His mouth is back on yours and you gift him an appeased hum, instantly lost in the warmth of lips and the way he kisses you like he’ll never kiss again. So heated, so, so perfect, and you reach your fingers to tighten in his hair, lift your hips to wrap your legs around his torso. You both sink into the duvet with the strength of his kiss, his hands shamelessly trailing up and down your torso, mapping it out, squeezing when he hears quiet noises and whines emerge from your throat.

You think Caleb enjoys the sounds you make most, because he’ll do anything and everything to draw them out of you, hands frisky and shameless. They’re calloused and rough in the best way and you squeeze his hair in approval, press fleeting kisses to the corner of his lips when you part to breathe. He laughs, happy, and you laugh in turn.

“It’s a little hot, don’t you think?” He murmurs, and uses that as his excuse to push the hem of your shirt past your chest, encourages you to slip your shirt off and sit with your bare torso.

The way he stares at your body, your chest, like there’s nothing else in the word makes your body singe. You reach a hand up to cover his wandering eyes, scoffing. “Don’t just stare, it’s embarrassing.”

“All that talk and you’re embarrassed when I look at you?” He gives your hand a few taps before prying it away, taking in the view just as shamelessly as he did before, if not more so. You’d smack his face with a pillow if he didn’t have your hand held so tightly. “Telling me not to look’s like telling a dehydrated man not to drink. It’s plain cruel,” he laughs, and pulls your hand to his lips to give your fingers a fleeting kiss. Your eyelids flutter alongside your heart, and he grins.

Satisfied with the view, he slides down on the covers (you have to loosen your legs to accommodate), and stares up at you with a playful, shit-eating grin, his chin rested perfectly above your chest. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Don’t ask, do,” you huff, turning your head away in mock annoyance. Caleb’s more than happy to oblige and hums his approval while his hands move to trace the contours of your chest, moves down to press a light kiss to one side, and is quick to focus his mouth where it’s sensitive, have the bud harden under his tongue and send shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

It even surprises you, how much you feel your face flame not just from pleasure, but pure embarrassment. This is Caleb , of all people. Not just some guy you started crushing on. Being this vulnerable and having his lips on your chest isn’t something you imagined even yesterday. If he saw you like this yesterday, you’d definitely die from shame. There’s not a glimmer of regret, but there’s heaps of embarrassment to spare and you bury your face into the pillow under you, tensing the more he plays. You knew nipples could feel good, but wow, they can feel good and his mouth on them sends shocks straight down your abdomen, makes heat settle low between your legs.

Finally, he pulls away, though his thumbs still graze over them, and he moves up to press a kiss to your jaw. “Don’t get all shy now. C’mon, show me that cute face of yours,” he hums, and you want to bury it even further being called cute (seriously, what the hell? You don’t know if it’s more embarrassing or insulting). But if only to show some semblance of control and confidence, you pull your head away and force yourself to meet Caleb’s adoring eyes, giving him a halfhearted glare with lips curled into a small pout.

“Looking at me like that only makes me wanna tease you more,” he murmurs, and moves to kiss your cheek (he’s so affectionate. It’s so much you almost don’t know how to handle it). And his hands slide down from your chest, settle at your waist and massage right above the band of your sweatpants. So close but not enough, the more his thumbs tease the more the heat becomes unbearable.

“Maybe you should use that mouth of yours for something other than talking,” you grumble, palms pushing Caleb’s head away. You huff with a side-turned head and peer at him from the corner of your eye, wiggling your hips. You couldn’t be more obvious.

“Demanding today, aren’t we?” He rubs his hands forward and back on your hips, trailing a slew of kisses down from the center of your chest to your abdomen, leaving flames in its wake. “Like what? I could make out with you until the sun rises, easy.”

The way Caleb looks at you, eyes flashing, you know what he wants. Those words to fall so reluctant from your tongue, to watch you drop your pride and ask. But Caleb’s had his way well enough, so instead of giving him the satisfaction of your words, you slide down your sweats and underwear, exhaling at the lack of restriction, the free air against your throbbing arousal. Caleb’s eyes go wide and you’re dragging his face between your thighs before he can retort, trying not to tremble from the absolute need that courses through your body. The thought of Caleb’s mouth on you, his tongue against you until your mind is numb.

“This.” You breathe, and Caleb can only let out a breathy chuckle.

“Whatever you say, your majesty,” he teases, smug but lets you guide his head, him dragging his hands down with it and across the planes of your thighs. They slide and down, palming close to your hips and earning him a small jolt, a bitten down noise.

Your fingers dig into his short hairs, dragging him down and rolling your hips to meet him halfway, urgent, needing. Caleb complies, gently mouthing at your inner thighs, biting at them (that gets a startled sound out of you that you instantly smother in fear of making too much noise.) And kisses and licks his way further up until he’s exactly where he needs to be, breaths hot and lips so close they could brush over you.

“To think you’re like this already…” he murmurs, cheeks flushed, and he dives his head down to slowly lick you into his mouth, your legs tensing and fingers shivering. His hands pet your thighs soothingly (it only makes you tremble more) and he sucks, holds your thighs so nice while they shake in his touch. He’s horribly slow, taking his sweet time to mouth against you, kiss against your aching heat and so gently take it into his mouth, painstakingly swirls his tongue. It’s not enough and you roll your hips into his mouth, mumbling curses.

“Dammit Caleb…” you groan, urging for more, grabbing and releasing at his hair, and his eyes flicker up to you, pupils blown and face a pretty red.

“Mm…” He hums, you shudder, and try not to burn at the sight of Caleb so pleased between your legs. Hands anchored to your thighs, mouth busy with a hardworking tongue as he eagerly lavishes you with attention. It’s good this time, not slow torture, and Caleb easily lets you rock your hips into his mouth, whine under the flat of his tongue and the sight of him between your legs. He pushes, holds you when you gasp and jerk into his touch and murmurs soothing hums while his mouth is busy on the taste of you. Your hips develop a rhythm of their own, chasing Caleb’s mouth over and over and when he briefly pulls back, he’s quick to stroke his fingers where his lips were, watch you sigh and and clutch at the parts of him you can reach.

“I wanna—“ he breathes, leans down to kiss the swell of your heat, laughs when you jump because of how swollen, how sensitive you are to his every move. You drag his face back down, his lips around you, not letting him finish the words he was trying to say. You just — his mouth — his warmth, you need, and you buck your hips into his touch, bursts of pleasure coming through you in waves the more his mouth moves in rhythm, the perfect pace he sets and the unfair way his tongue seems to do just the right thing to make you whine against bitten lips.

“Caleb,” you whisper, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Caleb’s tactic changes, he’s using one hand to keep a steady grip on your thigh while the other reaches up stroke at your sensitive hip, then sneaks up to your nipple to tease it under his thumb and forefinger. His mouth remains occupied, tongue and lips unrelenting, and the dual pleasure is so much it almost feels like too much. But he moves, hot, mouth in tandem with your restless hips, confident and warm and the almost unbearable heat between your legs grows and grows, until you’re biting back a strangled noise and digging your fingers into Caleb’s scalp. You hold his head in place while you ride out the throes of pleasure, Caleb’s mouth easing you through it, still pressing and stroking with the heat of his tongue when the orgasm ebbs away. You have to squirm and push Caleb’s head away, panting and soaked in a sheen of sweat.

Caleb’s lips, nose, chin, are coated in you and he shamelessly licks what he can away, watches as you breathe, catch your breath amidst the aftershocks of your pleasure. Your entire body feels flushed with heat, and the only sound you’re capable of making are quiet gasps for a moment or two.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, presses a hand over his mouth and he’s scrambling off the bed, rushing to rifle through his drawers. He pulls out a bottle of lube and jerks his head to where you’re still settled on the bed, steadying your pulse. You’ve eased yourself to sit up on your elbows, so you can watch in your curiosity, see what’s got him so worked up. Seeing him still fully clothed while your pants lay sweat-ridden and bunched at your ankles, shirt tossed in some corner makes your face fill with heat.

“Can I—would you—“ he returns to the bed, crawls between your open thighs and presses his forehead to yours. The heat of his breaths make you dizzy, and you can feel the flicker of a flame despite just bursting with heat. “Fuck, I just…” he murmurs, moving his head down to rest against your shoulder, lips pressing against the jut of the bone. And the way his nose presses against you, he nuzzles against you and so dearingly asks makes the answer come far too easy. You inhale, stroke his cheek, and nod.

“Mhm,” you agree, moving your head to press a sweet kiss to Caleb’s temple. He groans, wastes no time coating his fingers and slipping them against you, stroking in a tease, then pressing in one.

It’s cold, you tense and Caleb mouths at your collarbone, murmuring “I got you,” while his fingers sits, letting you adjust and you relax to the chill, shudder to the way the digit settles in you, doesn’t feel like enough, and he moves.

Maybe — you think — you didn’t properly think this through. Because while you’ve a short respite from coming, now you have a finger inside you, a hand exploring every inch of your body it can reach, and lips playing with the soft patch between your neck and shoulder that has you sighing and subconsciously quivering. Somehow it’s all too much and not enough all too soon after — and you actively dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet, not risk sounds traveling through the walls.

“So…” Caleb inhales, his lips travel down to kiss at your chest, lick at your nipples once more and they stand to attention at his efforts. “So damn warm…” You wonder if he means the heat from your body or the way you feel around his finger. His lips tease while his finger thrusts at a steady rhythm and when it becomes comfortable (and lacking). You start to grind into his touch, craving more, shuddering when a soft noise leaves his throat.

You exhale, peer at the pink cheeks of your childhood friend — hell, your best friend. You feel your heart melt, then your body melt in tandem when his finger slips out so he can ease two of them in, slowly stretching you. They move deep, curling inside you and with the just perfect brush of his fingertips, you let out a pitched gasp and pull a hand up to cover your mouth. Caleb doesn’t say a thing, instead makes sure to move against that bundle of sensitive nerves over and over, watches you tense and squirm the more he focuses his attention.

“You’re pretty good at keeping quiet,” Caleb praises, and moves his face up to draw you into a long kiss, mouth in sync with the way he fucks you with his fingers, steady and perfectly bent to leave you panting. You whine against him, chasing his fingers with your hips. He sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a dirty pop, lips glistening. “Can’t wait for the day you don’t have to hold back.”

“Hah—shit…” You curse, wanting to come up with a coherent response but your words catch in your throat, interrupted by gasps, and your mind can’t even conjure what to say to something like that, but you feel your body throb, your hips jump at his praise. Caleb hums, presses a kiss to your cheek, and slides down.

He does that thing where he looks up at you from between your legs, cheek rested on your thighs damp with sweat. His lips curl into that gorgeous, sinful grin that’s stupidly hot and infuriating all at once and you squeeze his hair in half-assed annoyance. He kisses one thigh, turns and sucks a gentle bruise into the other - fuck, why does that feel so damn good. And he busies his mouth with the taste of you, fingers working a slowly building rhythm that has your palm firm over your mouth and the other hand steady in his hair while you try — and fail, to not fall into a haze of pleasure. You almost want to curse, being so weak under his fingers and mouth. Flip the scene and give him a taste of his own medicine. But his tongue knows just what to do and he knows just the way to move his head to have you unable to do anything but let out choked gasps and rut into his eager mouth.

Though you take his fingers easily now, feel prepared enough to handle all he has to offer, he doesn’t stop. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and his pretty, obscene mouth on you fill the otherwise silent room, save for your gasps and sighs. You curl against him and huff, biting your lip and using both palms to still his head.

“If you keep going, I’ll—“ you warn, because his fingers aren’t enough but his mouth is too much, and if you’re left a quivering mess you won’t be able to handle Caleb fucking you on top of it. Caleb hums, his glimmering eyes flicker up to you, and you think they crinkle in amusement. You’ve learned not to trust that face of his.

And of course, the dick , he keeps going. Holds you down with one hand so he can push and spread his fingers deep, taste you on his tongue as he sucks. It’s enough to have you arching your back, whimpering quiet noises into the pillow you bury your face into. Your hips squirm of your own according, the heat pooling in your gut and threatening to burst and you try to push his head away, gasp weak complaints. Too much if he doesn’t stop you’ll — But he’s relentless and overwhelming. Fingers curling, mouth moving, his hand gripping your waist. And your body accepts it all until that feeling crescendos again, you turning into a shaking mess as you whisper quiet curses into the pillow, try to escape his mouth but he licks and pumps his fingers into you all throughout it to prologue how your back arches, the high washes over you over and over. When you slowly relax, he pulls away with a messy mouth, leaving you with breaths labored and somehow still sane enough to sport a glare.

“I told you—“

“Sorry,” he says, and kisses at your navel while he watches you with enthralled eyes, like you’re a piece of stunning art. But his eyes aren’t apologetic in the least, and you’d think it right to demand a proper one if your heart wasn’t thundering so quick you think it’ll leap out your chest. He sighs, scoots up to press a kiss against your chin, and whispers, so quiet. “Can I…?”

You huff, try to steady your breathing, and zone into the dull ache between your legs and the empty feeling from losing his fingers. Of course you want it, want him, it’s a matter of already having been pleasured to hell and back by this man twice. You’re spent, even if the idea of Caleb nude and flushed against you is hot as hell.

“There’s a reason I tried to tell you…” you sigh, brush some slick hairs from his eyes and observe the dazed, greedy look in his eyes. He really just wants it all, doesn’t he? You always thought you were spoiled by Caleb, but maybe, there are times when you spoil him.

“Mmm… it’s just nice, seeing you lose your composure,” he nuzzles into your neck, breath warm and your entire body reacts to something so small, so soft. “But we’ve got all the time in the world. Next time.”

And he exhales so warm, pulls his head away and you immediately grab both cheeks, drag Caleb’s lips to yours and kiss him so sweetly it feels something akin to love. Your hips tingle, and the idea makes you absolutely dizzy, but you mouth it against his lips anyway.

“Finish what you started.”

Caleb doesn’t immediately answer or react, he simply observes you, watches the way your arms cling to him. For good measure, you wrap your legs around him and roll, right into the hard erection confined in his pants. He gasps, gripping the duvet beside your head.

“If… If it’s too much. Just pinch me. Or tap me a few times. Do whatever, really, shit,” Caleb hisses, and he’s finally stripping off that stupid bed shirt of his and tossing it unceremoniously across his room, breaths slow and deep as though to calm himself.

It’s not your first time seeing Caleb shirtless, but it is the first time you’re able to admire the full view in dim glory. Amidst the streaks of moonlight through the window, the red of his necklace sparkles. He wears it, even in his sleep, and you try not to think too much on how he must’ve cherished it. Treated it like a prized possession, because it makes a surge of happiness flood through you with a mix of guilt for never treating Caleb’s gifts or gestures just as precious.

“Oh, so when I stare, it’s a problem. But when you stare, it’s fine, huh?” Caleb chuckles, and his pants are kicked off with no shame. He’s so eager he doesn’t even try to make it sexy, he just looks like he’s dying to feel every inch of you, finally be able to feel the whole of you tight around him. It’s so silly and so Caleb you just have to laugh, and it’s nice when he laughs in turn, makes you feel serene.

“Think of it like payback,” You decide to say. Payback for making you come from his mouth and fingers when he knew you wanted to feel him inside of you. Caleb makes an approving noise, leans back over you, and the sight of his flushed, toned body with his necklace dangling down is way sexier than it has any right to be. He slides a hand up your thigh, gives it an encouraging squeeze when you tremble, and his lips find yours in a fleeting kiss.

“Guess I gotta do all I can to make up for it,” he whispers in a ghost of a kiss, and settles between your legs, erection strained in his underwear and words way too calm for someone who looks like he can’t stand waiting a minute longer. He shoves them down well enough with one hand and he springs free, eager and leaking at the pink tip. You think it’s almost pretty, the way it stands, twitches when you thumb his cheeks.

He captures your lips the same moment he lifts your thighs, lines himself where he had his fingers buried deep only a minute or two ago, and slowly, slowly pushes. Sighs into your mouth as he sinks into you, and you grab at his back, wrap your arms so tight around him as he just fills you, moves as you cling to him. You think the wait alone is torture when he finally settles deep, hips flush to yours and mouth swallowing any weak noises you utter. You’re still so sensitive and even just the feeling of his cock inside, barely moving, is enough to make you clutch at him.

“You feel so perfect,” he utters, shaking hands settled on the sides of your face, lips plush on your jaw. He buries his face in your neck, slowly, slowly moves out, and you can feel his entire body shaking on top of you as he pushes again, deep into you and fills you perfect. So hot inside of you, you can’t help but squeeze around him. He chokes against your skin, kisses at it while his hips steadily draw out—then you think he loses his composure a little. His hips sputter, and his pushes into you quicker, steady, and holy fuck is your body just quivering and you already feel a mess, heat between your legs near unbearable and Caleb’s cock stretching you open for him.

“Caleb…” You gasp, bite back the moans that want to continually spill from your throat while Caleb steadily pumps, in and out. It’s so tender, and even though your body is an absolute mess, you just need more and drag in Caleb with the strength of your legs wrapped around him, helplessly grind into his cock, and Caleb understands the message loud and clear. He shakes, kisses your shoulder, and pulls out to snap his hips against yours, murmurs small affirmations against your skin as he fucks you, heavy and deep and your body is a squirming mess, like it isn’t even your own. You’re whining and biting back every loud, broken noise that threatens to leave your mouth with the rock of his hips.

“Shit—Caleb, it’s—“ you gasp, be hums into your shoulder and looks at you with wild eyes while he pushes into you over and over. Your legs are a mess and you’re gasping, trying to focus on swallowing down the noises in your throat but Caleb’s driving you absolutely insane and when he positions himself just right, you’re letting out a sharp cry and your body arches into his touch.

“Don’t wake the whole neighborhood now.” He coos against your collarbone, and gently covers your mouth, palm flat so all you can do is groan against his hand, weak noises and sharp gasps muffled. Every inch of you feels sensitive, alight, and the hand not silencing you gently massages your chest while he fucks you deep into the mattress, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. It’s filthy and you absolutely love it, even if your body is screaming it’s on fire, and all your nerves are alight from being so thoroughly handled.

“Mmn—!” You gasp, unable to even articulate how it feels to have Caleb rolling his hips into yours so damn hot while you can barely control the way your body reacts. You think he swells even more when inside you, thick and hot and nearly every thrust hitting you so you see stars. You gape, claw at his neck and anything you can cling to on him, while his movements gradually speed up and he pounds into you relentlessly, cries muffled by his palm.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…” Caleb gasps, breaths heavy, lifting his palm and resting it sweetly on your face instead. He looks at you so damn adoring while he’s fucking you senseless, watching you gasp and start to squirm under him when the sensation builds upon too much. “Wanted you. Like this.”

“Gh… Y-Yeah…?” You somehow manage to choke out while your body has a mind of its own, squirming and shaking and Caleb’s hands hold you right where he needs you as he slides in and out of you again, pulls out so only the tip is in and snaps his hips against yours in a fluid motion. You wonder if it’s because your most recent orgasm was so close, left you so sensitive you feel like you’re already on the brink. You hang onto Caleb for purchase and try not to cry out as he pushes into you over and over and over.

“You’re way too hot. You feel way too—haah —good.” Caleb curses as he moves, hold your hips and reaches a hand down between the two of you to tease you with sweet fingers while he pumps into you. “You. Undone. Under me,” he murmurs, and your hips helplessly buck into his touch, fingers clutch him tight as he fucks you.

“Y-You…ah—Caleb,” you try to respond, but the way Caleb rocks his hips, and his hand wastes no time driving you mad, you feel that feeling build, build and build so quick, so perfect. You want to retort, say anything to flip his words on him, but you know you’re a gasping mess and can’t focus your mind enough to put up a decent argument. So you clutch at his slick skin, bury your fingers so deep it pales, and whine “I’m… I’ll… ‘M about to…”

Caleb hears you loud and clear, keeps the pace of him pumping into you and is always sure to angle the way your hips slot together perfectly, so each thrust hits you with a deep wave of pleasure and his fingers leave you weak.

“You always act so strong, so tough. It’s nice I can get you like this,” he speaks, and if your mind wasn’t in such fog you’d probably be a little annoyed, but all you can do is whimper at how his voice whispers low in your ear, and the way he circles his hips perfectly to make you gasp, clench, and make him groan in return.

That feeling approaches, the familiar feeling of being undone by Caleb and at the mercy of his mouth, fingers and thrusts. He murmurs sweet words against your lips, and it’s all you can handle when you’re biting your lip and your body is pulled taught like a string, shuddering and powerful as you feel a burst of pleasure like no other, so strong and prolonged you wonder if it’ll ever end, so much you actually see white. Caleb doesn’t relent on his thrusts, fucks you through it, and he doesn’t stop when you’re quivering either and suddenly it’s too much all at once. Your body is still in tremors and shakes as he grasps your hips firm, presses a soothing kiss to your temple as you start to squirm and let out weak noises.

It’s too much and too fast and you’re so sensitive and you can’t— “Caleb,” you choke out, body naturally moving to escape the sensation, but Caleb’s hands hold you steady.

“Want—“ he rasps, “want me to stop? All you gotta do is tap me,” he murmurs so sweet in your ear, and tears prick in your eyes as the pleasure, the sensitivity is so blinding you can’t keep them from your face. And you quietly cry and squirm but hold on tight, not tapping, not pinching. It’s torture but it feels terribly amazing in the best way, even if Caleb has to keep a firm hold so you don’t scramble from his grasp.

“Too much, I can’t, Caleb,” you sob, Caleb kisses the tears that fall down your cheeks so sweetly and proceeds to fuck you silly. Your heart is pounding, your whole body is a shaking over sensitive mess and the feeling is so intense your mind can barely formulate words. “I—please, fuck…” you babble, can’t string together full sentences and just whimper under him. Fuck if you’re never at someone’s mercy like this, you wonder if it’s better or worse that it’s Caleb.

“So damn cute,” he breathes out in broken fragments, breaths quickening as he thrusts deep, hard, accepts every whimper and plea that leaves your wet lips. “You can relax around me, trust me. Let me take care of you.”

“Ah…!” You wish you could respond, you really do, but the only thoughts you can formulate are pleads and Caleb, the endless pleasure bordering pain he pushes you through. He’s so sweet in your hair as his pace quickens and his breaths are shallow, ragged. His face is a damp mess and strings of hair cling to his forehead as he utters your name — your name, not ‘pipsqueak’, over and over. Whispers your name in your ears, mouths it on your temple, presses his lips against your neck as he sighs it. You melt and squeeze your teary eyes shut, clawing at Caleb and letting him pound you into oblivion. You feel fucking ruined and Caleb kisses your tears and pets your head all throughout it.

“Dammit, seriously, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasps, and you think your hazy mind can classify it as positive. His thrusts are quick and it’s not soon after that he’s suddenly groaning, hips going still as he holds deep inside you, trembling as he spills. Deep, warm. You quiver and finally find relief in his slowed thrusts, the way he holds himself with shaky breaths and bright red cheeks, sweat sliding down his temple. Slowly, he stills, panting, and when he’s nearly done shaking, he slowly pulls himself out. The feeling of both being empty and filled is filthy, but you haven’t the energy to burn on feeling embarrassed when you can barely form a sentence. You gasp, wipe at the tears that rolled down your face, and can’t keep the tiny quivers from racking through your body even after the high has passed.

“You okay, pipsqueak?” He whispers after, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You nod, mute, and have to give yourself a bit to be able to respond in full. He seems to understand that much, and rolls to the side so he can gently hold you in his affection.

“That was…wow,” you murmur, and bury your head into his damp chest, the sent of oak and sweat. “Can’t move…” The thought of so much as standing seems impossible, your brain is in this weird, pleasant fog and you can barely focus.

“Did I go overboard?” His laugh is light and raw, lips settled on your forehead.

“It was a lot,” you answer, and your fingers trace over his bicep. Who knew fighter pilots had to be so toned? “It’s hard to think but…” you hum, and adjust your buzzing limbs so you’re a little more comfortable. “It was… good.”

“Good. Guess I’ll put that on the list of things you like,” you feel his lips curl against your forehead, probably grinning. You don’t even have the energy to glare.

“You have a list?”

“In my mind,” he says, and you decide to pull back from his chest a little, if only to see his expression.

Sweat-ridden but sparkling with an air of pleasant satisfaction. Eyes alight, cheeks warm. Since when was Caleb so damn beautiful?

“Next time…” You look up at him with heavy eyes. Feel almost drunk as your body sags and your speech comes out in quiet rasps, throat spent from all the cries you swallowed down. “It’s your turn,” you run your fingers across his lean chest, feel the way his muscles jump with laugher and his heart is starting to slow into a steady rhythm. He’s so irritatingly attractive.

You’re not used to feeling so utterly spent, helpless after. Your legs would collapse under you like a fawn learning to walk if you tried anything right now. You’d like to see Caleb come undone under your fingers, unable to keep himself from writhing while you tease him endlessly. In that way, you’re both similar, you suppose, and you can hardly blame Caleb for the way he gets off on you clawing at him.

“Can’t wait,” he says easily, almost makes you more mad at how easily he accepts your words. He strokes your cheek, wipes the remnants of tears, and holds you comfortably in his palm. “You look so good when you’re a mess.”

“Hush now,” you sigh, and turn your head to kiss his palm. He pads your lip so gently, traces shapes across them (you think one is a heart). It’s so silly but so him and he continually manages to make your heart fill.

“I’m scared I’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.” He pulls you to him, buries his nose in your hair and strokes your back like he hasn’t seen you in years and needs to confirm your existence. “It feels like a dream. You in my arms. Kissing me. Wanting me.” He draws back so he can tilt your head up and peer into your eyes. You think the sun is starting to rise, his eyes are as clear as ever yet clouded with contentment and apprehension. “You like me, don’t you?” His hands hold you so sweetly, his eyes are so raw. “Pretty sure I’ve loved you as long as I can remember.”

You blink, try to process his words in the fog of your mind and feel yourself run warm when you’re able to take his words piece by piece and understand them, digest them in full. The word ‘love’ tickles your ears, and you try not to let the tears flow again (who knew being so wrecked made you stupidly emotional) and nod quickly, covering the hand that holds your cheek.

“Of course I like you. I’ve trusted and cared about you as long as I can remember.” Your hand on his chest stills, presses so you can hear the drum of his heartbeat that’s now relatively fast. You can’t judge, when your heartbeats are so heavy you feel them in the back of your throat. “I’ll love you back, someday. The way you love me. I’ve loved you like my best friend, as a person, for the longest, though.”

“I’ve waited so long to hear that…” Caleb sighs, your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck, and you silently vow to yourself to sometimes let go of your stubborn streak, take care of Caleb the way he loves to take care of you. You hum and nuzzle into his chest, basking in how warm he feels, skin against skin, heating you, like a pleasant wood fire on a cozy winter night.

You sigh, can’t bite back a small smile, and let your eyelids flutter, your weak body sink into the mattress as Caleb’s slow breaths and caresses lull you, goad you to rest.

Caleb’s skin, heat, the love and affection you feel encased in each featherlight touch draws you in, comforts you enough to let your consciousness fade. Like a soothing lullaby.

It’s perfect, knowing you’ll wake up in his arms the next morning.

—

Sequel — Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

[readychilledwine]

Housewife

✨️Kink education with Elizabeth✨

The Housewife kink, also known as the 1950s Household, is a power play exchange dynamic that typically involves a dom and service sub. It is characterized by one partner being seen as a homemaker and one as the breadwinner. During the 1950s, the homemaker’s “job” was to take care of the household chores, dinner, children (if they had any), and following norms, their husband's needs all while being the picture perfect example of soft femininity and breedability.

Subs partaking in this form of play tend to wear dresses, heels, aprons, ect, while maintaining a clean home and cooking. Many people enjoy this dynamic due to its ability to come into real-life play instead of just hiding in the bedroom.

It is one form kink play that does not necessarily have to be sexual, but that's not why we're all here 👀

NSFW BELOW CUT

💕Peep Valentines Day Bingo Here 💕

Azriel x Reader

Summary - After a long day of interrogations, Azriel is more than pleased to come home to dinner made, a clean home, and a pretty wife.

Warnings - sub and dom dynamics, references to completely power exchange play, oral (mreceiving), slightly demeaning behavior towards females

A/N - I apologize for the delay. My little is going through a growth spurt and a little fussy today. Plus, it took FOREVER to find the perfect gif.

Azriel opened the door to his cabin. His shoulders were slumped forward, wings hanging slightly lower than normal.

It had been a rough day. He had been torturing the same prisoner for 3 days now. They refused to yield, they refused to break, and they refused to bend and give the shadowsinger what he wanted.

He knew that all would change the second he saw you, though. You were currently setting dinner on the table. Your hair was softly curled and pinned back, a soft touch of makeup graced your face highlighting his favorite features of yours.

You were wearing a blue sundress the flowed out at the bottom with heels and a blue bow in your hair.

“How's my wife today?” He took pleasure in knowing you would not address him until he addressed you. He took pleasure in knowing that within seconds of hearing his voice, you were trained to get him a glass of whiskey and greet him with a kiss.

“Azriel, you're home early,” you immediately went to the liquor counter, dress swaying as you did. You poured him a finger of whiskey, moving to add ice before walking to him and kissing his cheek. “How was your day?”

Azriel drank as you began removing his outer heavy layer for him, watching like a hawk as you hung his coat and placed his already kicked off boats into the precise place he had told you they go.

“Same prisoner as yesterday,” he watched you blink in confusion. “The bastard will not break and submit. Did you make dinner?”

You nodded enthusiastically, walking him to the table and getting him a plate. “I made your favorite.”

Azriel settled into the couch after dinner, watching you as you cleaned dishes. Every soft movement of your dress had his eyes locked on the hem. Each time you'd reach forward slightly, he was rewarded with a glimpse at the garter belt straps that connected to the satin tops of your thigh highs. It was a constant reminder to him that you were his present, waiting to be unwrapped so delicately as a reward for your continued obedient behavior.

“Angel,” he spoke softly. “Are all your chores done after this?”

It should have bothered you as a wingless Illyrian female to hand over submission so willingly out of hope you'd be rewarded with your mate's cock pounding into you over and over, but instead knowing you were about to be rewarded, that he was about to use you like a pretty cock sleeve, that had your thighs pressing together. “They are. Unless you wanted me to do something else.” A cool shadow began swirling your leg. Its touch was like soft kisses and left shivers in its wake.

Azriel leaned back, watching his shadow go on its mission, watching as you took a gasp, spine going straight before moaning his name. “Let me know when you finish.” He placed an arm on the back of the couch, scenting your arousal filling the air as you whimpered and went back to the last few dishes.

It wasn't fair. Trying to focus on scrubbing and rinsing as a shadow sat vibrating against your lace covered clit was nearly impossible. 5 dishes, you reminded yourself. He lets you leave them overnight to dry. Just 5 more. You focused on the dishes, doing the best you could to ignore the growing wetness between your thighs.

You almost jumped as rough hands ran up your arms. “My pretty little wife. My mate,” one of his hands wrapped and held your throat. His other hand ran down your chest, through the valley of your breasts, before settling on your hip. He started placing soft kisses along your neck, your ear. “How lucky am I to have such an obedient wife taking care of my home?” He squeezed your throat softly before his other hand began lifting Your dress. The hand on your throat moved to join the other one as he moved you away From the sink and to a different section of countertop, bending you over it and place one hand at the back of your neck to hold you Down. He groaned as his shadows held up that pretty dress, exposing those sapphire lace panties

"The dishes," you panted.

"Can wait. I can't. I've been hard since I walked in to you setting the table wearing my color, wearing a little bow tying your hair back like some innocent little thing." Your panties were moved to the side. Two fingers began to run the length of your core as Azriel groaned behind you. "So fucking wet I've hardly done anything."

You heard a muffled moan and could only assume he had put his fingers into his mouth. "So sweet, baby." You could hear him undoing his pants, feel as the head of his cock ran your folds. You could feel down the bond that it would be a long night.

You gasped loudly, gripping the counter with a mix between a moan and scream as he pushed into the hilt. Azriel wasted no time, threading one hand into your hair and pulling while the other held your hip. Azriel growled as you wiggled slightly, causing you to still. "Such a good little wife."

He wasted no time, setting a pace that had your toes curling in those heels that made your ass look phenomenal. Shadows quickly moved to hold the dress up, allowing the hand on your hip to move to your still covered clit.

There was something freeing about being below him, serving him, being used by him. It was enough for that coil to tighten faster as your mind went blank, focusing on nothing but the feeling of his heavy hard cock hitting every nerve inside of you, angling until he found the spot that had you scream his name.

Despite the roughness he fucked you with, the power you were freely handing to him, Azriel still sent wave after wave of his love, his admiration, and his pride down the bond. With each wave, that coil got tighter and tighter, your moans louder and more desperate as your body felt like it was on fire. "Be a good wife and cum for me," his fingers pressed down on that bundle of nerves, hips pistoning into you even faster as you screamed his name, walls milking his cock.

Azriel pulled out instead of following you over the ledge, ripping that dress off of you and leaving you in the lingerie and heels. He lifted you into his arms while you still came down from the high, your vision almost blurred.

You felt the soft bed under you, smelling the fresh sheets you had just changed hours ago. Azriel smelled them too as he positioned you with your head hanging off the bed. "You spoil me," his hands ran to your breasts, squeezing and tweaking your nipples.

His cock sat heavy and leaking near your face, soaked in your release, "Open." You smiled, opening your mouth wide, allowing him to push in just as two fingers slid into your heat.

He was gentle this time, for now at least, fucking your throat. You ran your tongue along his length, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him. You were at his mercy, wiggling and moaning around him as the wet noises of his cock in your mouth and his fingers thrusting in and out of you echoed with his moans and occasional whimper.

His pace picked up as his fingers did, making him chuckle in satisfaction as you gagged around him. "You deserve a reward for how hard you worked today, don't you, y/n?" He groaned as you moaned around him, vibrating his cock as he held it deep in your throat. "Not a single thing out of place, every chore finished, and I came home to you looking like a delicious treat? What a good little wife." You felt your vision getting slightly blurry until he pulled out again, your pleasure almost maddening as he avoided the spongy spot inside of you and brushed your swollen clit with ghost like touches. "That's what you are isn't it? No thoughts in that pretty mind of yours but pleasing me and taking my cock like an obedient whore?"

You would have nodded, begging him to give you what you needed as you agreed to every word, but his cock was still occupying and twitching in your mouth. You knew from the way his fingers had become messier in their rhythm, from the way his words were getting breathy, from how each moment of your throat burning as he held himself deep inside grew longer and longer that he was close.

You had been dreaming of his all day. Dreaming for your reward for dusting, for cooking, for cleaning. The reward you'd get when he came home to a spotless house, to his laundry done, to you wearing your pretty outfit for him.

His fingers curled into the spot you needed, pressing and tapping there as shadows curled and flicked your nipples and his thumb ran gentle circles on your clit. You finished within seconds with no warning, crying around his cock, hands fisting the sheets.

Azriel fell over the edge soon after, spilling with his cock shoved all the way into your mouth forcing you to swallow what you could, head thrown back as his wings flared and he moaned your name without shame.

He pulled out, fisting the exposed length and allowing the last of his cum to land on your face, admiring the mess of drool, makeup, and his seed you had become. His fingers left your cunt, going to his own mouth as he licked them clean with a smile. He watched as your hand waved and the bathtub began to fill.

"I'm not done with you yet," he panted, hands trailing your body.

You smiled, your own hands running up and down his thighs. "I counted in that, but let me take care of your other needs first."

Azriel looked up, a wide smile on his face as he sent a silent prayer to whoever blessed you with acts of service as your love language. "I would really like that."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish

@novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer

As always- please let me know if you would like to be added to a taglist 💜

[here2bbtstrash]

crybaby (explicit)

genre: all pwp all smut babeyyyyyy

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

word count: 4.3k

contains: explicit sexual content!!!!!! like that's the whole fic lmao 😵‍💫 established relationship, marathon sex, wrist restraints/bondage, cocky yet eager sub!jungkook 🥵, soft dom!reader but she can be a lil tough, clothed tit play, objectification, she calls him bunny which i think is cute 🥺, spitting, dick riding, unprotected sex, fingers in mouth, humping/grinding, jk has a nipple piercing 🙈, overstimulation/multiple orgasms - for both of them hehe, vibrator use, jungkook (and reader!) pushing himself to his limits bc..... he's jungkook, he cries 🥲, reader finds it hot 👀, a lottttt of sweat & cum lol, cum licking/eating, blowjob, maybe some subspace if you squint, winners never quit 💪, talk of coming dry at the end, jk is kind of a little shit lmaooooo - alright i think that's it 😩

A/N: not me barely managing to get this up before the ticket sales start 😅 happy hunger games to y'all who have codes!!! this fic is a birthday gift to my love, my angel, my cunning linguist @moni-logues 💜 HAPPY (yesterday) BIRTHDAY bb, can't wait to marry you on our first date, it is the joy of my life to build castles in the air with you~

and god bless jk for his lives the past few weeks bc they breathed so much life into this regular degular "sub!jk" fic idea. i'm v obsessed with his personality and the way he always pushes himself "just a little more", whether it's in staying up til 5 am singing karaoke on his couch or giving his absolute all in a workout. just so in love with our bunny tbh, so i hope you enjoy this spicy version of him too!! 🥰

read on AO3!

~*~

You know your boyfriend has always mixed his pleasure with pain.

He stays up late even when he’s exhausted, likes to do his workouts to failure, could spend hours in a tattoo session with the needle pressed to his skin and his bones humming from the buzz. Always holding out for as long as he can, always wanting just a little bit more before he calls it quits, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts. Because he wants to test his limits.

And today, you want to test them, too.

That’s why you text him to meet you in the bedroom, let him find you in nothing but one of his oversized Carhartt shirts, kneeling up on the bed as you affix a pair of purple silk restraints to the headboard.

There’s the soft creak of the mattress from Jungkook’s added weight, and you feel the heat of him as he crowds you from behind, hands dragging up the curve of your hips and taking the hem of your borrowed shirt with it.

“This was the emergency, huh?” The low murmur of his voice is chased by the cool touch of his lip ring as he drags his mouth up the nape of your neck. A blossom of arousal starts to unfurl in your core. “Wanted to use these?”

“Yeah,” you answer, feigning nonchalance as you give the silk a firm tug to test that it holds. Satisfied, you let yourself sink back into Jungkook’s touch, dropping your head against his shoulder and smiling when he leans down to brush his lips over yours. He hums a soft little sound into your mouth.

You cup your hand to the nape of his neck when you pull away to finish the thought. “Thought we could try them on you.”

The words are seemingly all your boyfriend needs to hear; he drops down onto the mattress so hard that he bounces a little. You can’t help but laugh at the way he scrambles to strip out of his sweatshirt, like he’s being timed, then hurriedly centers himself on the pillows, eyes glinting dark with desire.

When you first started talking to Jungkook, everything about him made you expect that he would be the one to call the shots. The good looks, the tattoos and piercings, the muscles— and definitely the motorcycle. But once you’d sat across from him at dinner on your first official date, only to watch him blush and fumble his way through a conversation, you started to suspect that maybe he preferred to follow rather than lead.

That thought was certainly confirmed the next time you saw him out in public: it’d been a full two weeks since your first date, with nothing but radio silence between you since. You were admittedly maybe a little too drunk when you spotted him out with his friends at the same bar you’d been dragged to by yours— drunk enough to have no problem walking right up to him to read him for filth, in front of all of his friends, for ghosting you.

Except he’d just blinked those big brown eyes up at you, mouth dropped open in disbelief, and quietly admitted that he’d been waiting all this time for you to text him.

One of his friends had clapped him on the back, laughing loudly as he corroborated Jungkook’s confession. “He’s been having midnight karaoke pity parties because he never heard from you. Please take this boy out again before his neighbors have him evicted!”

That night told you everything you needed to know about how the dynamics in your relationship would work out. That if you wanted something, there was a very good chance Jungkook wanted it, too.

Which is why it doesn’t surprise you that your boyfriend is already sprawled out half-naked on the bed beneath you, arms folded behind his head in a way that makes his biceps bulge, dangerously attractive.

His mouth pulls into a cocky, flirtatious grin. “Ah, so you wanna use me?”

“I do,” you murmur, straddling your thighs over his torso and leaning up to take the smooth purple silk between your fingers. He offers you one hand before you even have to ask for it, and takes advantage of the other’s last few minutes of freedom to paw at you over your shirt. His tattooed fingers seek out your breast and squeeze, his thumb flicking lazy strokes over your nipple.

You tug the knot of the restraint to tighten it, then look back just as Jungkook closes his lips around the clothed bud of your breast. The rough drag of cotton against your sensitive skin makes you hot all over, your nipple stiffening easily at the rub of his insistent tongue.

“How’s that? Too tight?”

He smirks with your tit still in his mouth, soaking a wet spot into your shirt, teeth scraping gently. “Could be tighter.”

“You are such a show-off,” you huff, more endeared than aggravated as you redo the knot, this time as tight as you can manage. Jungkook pulls against it teasingly, but it does actually seem to hold him in place, and you can feel a dull thud between your legs at the flex of his muscles on full display, the image of him already half-helpless beneath you.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he says, as if in explanation, giving your breast a final playful jiggle before you tug his other hand off to tie it up, too.

“Well, Jeon Jungkook,” you retort with a smirk and a grunt of effort as you lean over him to tug the knot tight. You glance down to find him already using the leverage of his restraints to pull himself up so that he can continue to nuzzle his face into your shirt between your tits, abdominals shaking a little from the effort, undeterred despite the loss of both of his hands.

You take his jaw in your grip and scoot yourself further down his body, dipping in to plant a kiss on his soft lips.

“Are you gonna be a good little toy for me?”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, and you enjoy the tease of hovering just past where he can reach, watching him strain up toward your mouth to seek another kiss and fall ever so short.

You can feel arousal already dripping from your folds as you slide further down the bed, slipping off from on top of Jungkook to easily rid him of his joggers and briefs. His dick smacks against his stomach, thick and hard; wet, too, at the pretty brown tip. You toss his clothes over the edge of the bed, then strip your own shirt to follow before lowering yourself between his spread legs.

The muscles in Jungkook’s thighs tighten with visible anticipation as you hover above his cock, letting the heat of your breath fan out over him, not unlike the warm afternoon air leaking in through the cracked bedroom window, the first taste of spring. You can hear the wet clicks of Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth.

“Easy, bunny,” you murmur, and then you work up a mouthful of saliva and spit it right onto the head of his dick.

He hisses in a breath at the splatter of it, then gasps a soft little sound when you take him in your hand to slip your fist down the length of him. That’s Jungkook all over; always so eager, always so sensitive.

“What do you think?” you muse, your mouth ticking up as you feel Jungkook’s hips roll into your grasp. “Think it’s ready for me, baby?”

“‘Sready,” he grunts, teeth clenched. “Use it, jagi.”

You waste no time, crawling back up Jungkook’s body to settle your hips over his, flattening your palms against his chest. He’s still squirming, thighs flexing against the bed as he rocks up in a desperate attempt to find the wet heat of your cunt, and you giggle as you work yourself backwards until the head of his dick catches on your entrance.

It’s a bit of a stretch, but you’re wet enough to take it. You bite down on a smug smile as you manage to seat yourself on him hands-free.

“Fuck, love when you do that.” Jungkook’s voice is a low growl, and you slide a hand up the firm definition in his chest and slowly start to rock yourself along his length. His cock fills you up like he was made for it; you can feel every detail of him drag against your ridges, trailing sparks of pleasure as you tilt your hips to drive him right into your sweet spot.

Jungkook’s head kicks back against the pillow as a groan rips through him. There’s a gentle crease in his brow, furrowed in the way that tells you it’s so good: the tight heat of your pussy, the slick stretch of it when you work it on him. You ride him rough, make him take it like a good boy.

Another noise stutters out of Jungkook, chased this time by a huff of breath that it takes you a second to realize is a laugh, the tone caught halfway between shy and horny. You watch the way he squirms, restless against his restraints, like he can’t help himself.

He answers before you can ask. “The way your tits— fuckin’ bounce— fuck, I wanna touch you.”

The feeling sinks in as you watch him writhe beneath you, as you shove your hips back harder to pull more desperate sounds out of him. It’s fun, not letting him have what he wants, makes you drip that much more down the length of him.

“You can’t.”

“I know,” he grunts, wrists tugging uselessly. “It’s hot— that I can’t.”

“It is,” you concede, feigning composure despite the hitch in your breath, the way you’re already close to the edge and pushed that much closer by having Jungkook like this. Tied up, all yours, free to do with as you please.

And still fighting against his fucking restraints.

“Think I could rip these?”

It’s like your body acts faster than your pleasure-driven mind can keep up with: all at once, you’re tracing the pouted curve of Jungkook’s bottom lip, then slipping two fingers past it into the heat of his mouth.

“Shh, bunny,” you murmur. He blinks up at you, glassy-eyed as you pet over his tongue, all lush and wet on your fingertips. “Toys don’t talk.”

You press down more firmly as if for emphasis, enjoying how his soft parts give so easily to your touch, and then Jungkook outright moans around your fingers in his mouth.

The needy little sound makes your pussy pulse hot between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you hiss as you take him to the hilt, changing the stroke of your hips to grind against your toy, used solely to get yourself off now. Humping, really, rubbing your clit over the smooth skin of his abdomen where he’s blooming feverglow, flushed with need. Jungkook’s eyes flicker back in his head at the way your pussy’s taking him, squeezed tight like a vice and gushing wet. Working raw sounds out of him, his jaw gone slack; you can feel the blunt edge of his teeth and his heavy, shaky breath on the palm of your hand.

Your thighs shift to spread wider and the next drag of your clit is at just the right angle that pleasure surges up in you, undeniable, overwhelming. It’s all you can do now to chase your release, to keep rocking yourself into it, Jungkook’s thick cock plugged up inside of you and drool slicking out of his mouth to drip down your wrist.

“Gonna make myself come on my pretty little toy,” you manage to gasp.

Jungkook’s eyes find yours, burning intensity, the way he gets, and then he closes his lips tight around your fingers in his mouth and sucks, as if he’s begging to be used, and it sends you over the edge all at once. Your head tips back as your orgasm kicks through you, white noise pleasure, enough to get lost in.

Hips still rolling, you grind yourself through it, the waves of your climax swelling and receding again, until you finally drop forward against Jungkook’s chest, breathless and buzzing all over.

You let your fingers slip out of his mouth, exhale a laugh as they skip over the defined ridges of his stomach when you wipe your hand dry, taking full advantage of the fact that he’s powerless to stop you.

“Shit, that was hot.”

Jungkook’s voice is hoarse with desire as you shift to find the curve of his neck under your mouth, trailing kisses until your lips brush over the pretty lines of ink just behind his ear. He’s still thick and stiff inside you, with a steady pulse-throb that tells you how badly he needs to come, how worked up he is from being used as your personal hump-toy.

“Yeah,” you echo, paired with a tentative rock of your hips that makes your cunt flutter, overstimulated, tugs a little whine out of Jungkook, too. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth as you breathe against his flushed skin.

“Think I— wanna keep using my toy. Kinda feel like being greedy.”

Jungkook’s cock twitches, shameless, at your admission, again when you flick a thumb over the silver jewelry studded through his nipple. There’s a part of you that wants to keep him like this, his leaking-hard dick filling you up while you purr nasty shit in his ear, just to see if he can come from it.

“Might ride it until I break it.” You scrape your teeth up his neck and he moans. “Gonna take all I can give you, bunny?”

His throat jumps visibly as he swallows, fights to gasp a desperate “uh-huh”. Answers with his body, too, arching up to press himself deeper into you, rubbing the slick, hot tip of his cock into your front wall in just the right way to melt pleasure down your spine. You reward his eager submission with a soft kiss, then lick along the seam of his lips, enjoying the sweet little noises that pour into your mouth when you open him up.

Still intertwined, his tongue stroking over yours, your hand goes fumbling for the nightstand, comes away with the slender cylinder of your vibrator, and switches it on before slipping it down to press between your bodies.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook groans as you nestle the shuddering bullet between your folds and find the bud of your clit. You know he can feel it too from the way his hips jerk beneath you, the steady buzz engulfing his cock as you squeeze your pussy around him, all lush sensitivity from your first orgasm. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“You can.” The words are hardly more than a warm exhale from your mouth to his, your lips brushing. “But I’m not gonna stop.”

You don’t give him time to respond or even heave in another gasp of air before your thumb finds the button at the base of your vibrator, clicks it once, then again.

“F— ahh!”

Jungkook’s body jolts like a live wire as he falls apart beneath you. You sit up to take in the whole of him, your free palm slipping to the jut of his hip, fingertips splayed out and pressed heavy to anchor.

Pinned down and helpless, he trembles through the hot rush of his release, dick buried deep and pulsing as it all comes spilling out of him.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. Your nails scratch lovingly against his skin to coax him out of it— taking such good care of your toy. His breath is punching out of his chest in these ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he whimpers through the comedown. So fucking beautiful like this.

The hum of the vibrator rolls through you, strong enough with the change in angle that your eyes drop shut to focus on the feeling.

Jungkook whines when you circle your hips with him still tucked up inside of you— it’s a wrecked little noise, high and sweet, underscored by the thick squelch of his cum starting to leak back down his shaft. Your thighs tense just right from the filthy sound of it, and then it’s all throbbing velvet glow in your core as you clench up and come on his cock again.

“Fuuuuuck, bunny,” you groan up to the ceiling, your head tipped back as it washes over you. “God, yeah.”

You flick the vibrator off when it gets to be too much, let it go rolling down the mattress— the bedroom feels bigger for the silence. Sweat slicks at the back of your knees, warm spring breeze still licking through the window to flutter the sheer-gauze curtains.

You’re fluttering too, all over: the kick of your heartbeat, the breath stuttering out of your lungs. The throb of your cunt, split open and drooling out juice, messy-wet fresh fruit.

The sound of the bedsheets shifting has your lashes flickering open again, and there’s Jungkook. Dark hair fanned out on the pillow, wrists bound, and that look in his eyes. Like he can take a little more. Like he’s waiting for your cue. Like there’s this whole-heart want brimming up inside of him, making his blood run hot.

He’s still hard between your legs.

“Go on then,” you tell him. “Give me another one.”

With a concentrated growl, Jungkook flattens his feet to the bed, grips tighter to his restraints for leverage, and starts to pound up into you. You can feel an overstimulated shudder in the stroke of his hips, how his cockhead twitches, sensitive, as it rubs over your g-spot. But he doesn’t stop; doesn’t even lose his rhythm.

He fucks you like a machine, and it’s all you can do to brace your palms against his chest and tip forward, rocking yourself down to meet him thrust for thrust.

The harsh slap of body on body is almost enough to drown out the rest: your open-mouthed panting, Jungkook’s groan when your nails dig crescent moon slivers into his tan skin, the gravel edge to your words, “Yeah, like that, fuck me just like that.”

It takes you a second to notice, the sound buried beneath it all, but then it floats through— Jungkook’s sucking his breath in through his teeth now, his jaw tight. You can see the jump of a muscle working there.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you gasp, more air than voice.

Jungkook’s head drops back against the pillow, brow pinched from the focus of keeping his pace steady. He’s breathless, too, when he answers: “Feels good.”

“Feels good because it hurts, huh? Is that how you like it?”

A strangled noise tears out of his throat, and he shoves up even harder, like he wants to fuck you into the shape of him. You splay one hand over the column of his throat and watch his pretty brown eyes blink-blink back at you, and then you have to bury your moans in the crook of his neck as you come hard.

The world around you returns a little at a time. First, the tremble of your tired thighs, the dull ache that’s already started to bloom at the bend of your knees. Then, Jungkook’s body curved up against yours, hips still slow-rolling as you exhale in hot, jagged bursts against his skin. There’s the distinct drip of his cum sliding out of you, and all the sticky-wet places where it’s slicked up the swell of your ass.

“Shit,” you laugh when you manage to find the breath for it. “That was crazy.”

Jungkook shifts a little, but doesn’t respond, and then he makes this wet, soft gasp. You realize he’s shaking beneath you.

You sit up so fast the room spins; your tether is Jungkook’s face, cupped lovingly now between your palms.

“Oh, baby.”

A fat teardrop traces a path down his cheek. Another threatens the dark border of his lashes. He can’t wipe them away with his wrists tied up, but you can see him trying to hold back even as a sob shudders through him, his chest heaving.

“You okay, my love?” you murmur, swiping a thumb across his face. He sniffles, nods, hiccups a little. The tip of his nose is flushed pink. “Shoulda told me to stop, if it was too much.”

“It feels good,” he insists, and his voice cracks around the words. “It’s just a lot. But ‘m not— don’t wanna stop.”

“No? You sure?”

Jungkook sucks his lip ring into his mouth as he nods again, sniffs again. That sends a bolt of something through you.

“You’ve been so good to me,” you praise, and you tip your ass back until his softening cock slips out, smeared glossy-white with your shared release. Jungkook’s still wound-up, pulled so tight inside himself that he flinches when you slip a hand down to ease his legs apart, sliding lower on the bed to slot yourself between them.

“Can I take care of you, bun?” The question’s posed sweetly, chased with a flutter of your lashes and kisses dropped down on the flat plane of his abdomen. “I’ll be gentle.”

He whimpers— answers in the way his hips lift up to meet your mouth.

Your hands press flat to Jungkook’s broad thighs, and you can feel the overwhelmed static-shiver beneath your palms, little tremors that jolt through his muscles. Head dipped low, you drag your tongue up his length and it punches a thick sob out of him, hips stirring like he’s trying to crawl up the bed. But you just keep going, pin him down and make him take it, working broad flat stripes over the whole of his shaft, root to tip. Tasting him, salt and slick and your own heady flavor; you lick him clean.

Jungkook comes quietly this time, feet flexing restless on the bed as you tongue it all out of him. You swipe two fingers through the mess on his stomach and suck that up, too.

Humming around the digits in your mouth, you surface from between Jungkook’s legs to take him in: eyes closed, face wet with tears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest as he gasps for air, shaky, coming down from it.

“Alright baby,” you soothe, shifting up to straddle his chest, knees sinking into the sheets. “All done now, just breathe. Gonna untie you.”

Reaching up, you gently tug open the knot on one restraint, then the other, easing Jungkook’s limp arms to the mattress. Your thumbs find his wrists to massage soft love-circles in case he’s gone numb there, gently coaxing him back to earth.

“Did so good for me, bunny.”

There’s a whimper, and then Jungkook’s surging up to kiss you, forceful enough that you give a little hum of surprise against his lips.

His hands are all over you, all at once, tugging at your legs to drag them forward until you’re flat on your back on the mattress. Your sore thighs shake when he shoves them up and apart, and then a sharp buzz rolls right over the bud of your clit and you keen. Fuck, when did he even grab the vibrator?

“Wanna make you come again,” he pants, and you smile even as your spine arches off the bed. Of course. You should’ve known.

It’s Jungkook all over, you think, hyper-focused on your pleasure even when he’s out of commission, and then you feel the head of his cock push inside and you both gasp. Your cunt aches, so swollen that it’s like he’s stretching you out all over again when you take him to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. Jungkook’s hips snap, punctuated by a strangled grunt of effort, but he keeps going, making soft little sweet-pain whines with every thrust, brow scrunched as he brute-forces his way well past overstimulation.

He’s still crying, you realize.

Tears roll down his face and drip onto your collarbone, and everything’s somehow hotter for it. His length is slick, painted in the stored-up remnants of his cum, and you can hear the squish of your folds at the base of his cock each time he fucks it all back into you, so dirty it makes your head spin.

“J-just like that, baby,” you groan, overwhelmed; you can barely get the words out. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you can feel him shaking, dripping, still rabbiting his hips into you, and then the hum of pleasure reverberating through your body explodes. Your clit throbs with an orgasm that feels endless, dizzying, divine. Jungkook outright sobs as your walls pulse pulse pulse around him, begging for every last drop.

When it’s all too much, you swat at his hand, mumbling shapes that aren’t words until the vibrator’s switched off and tossed away. He pulls out with a thick wet sound and the hiss of his breath between his teeth.

Together, you come down slow. Exhaling staccato, limbs tangled, bodies flushed and sweat-sticking.

Jungkook moves first: flops onto the mattress next to you, entirely exhausted, the way you’ve seen him get after a particularly rough workout. Scrubs at his face with one hand, this shy laugh fluttering out of him. “Can’t believe I cried. Ah, so embarrassing.”

You turn onto your side, tugging his hand away so you can press a kiss to his open palm. “Don’t ask me why but… in the moment? Very hot, actually.” A flush colors his cheeks and you giggle. “My perfect little crybaby.”

He flashes you his signature cocky grin, eyes squeezing shut as it morphs into something nearer to a wince. “Fuck, I’m so sweaty.” A breathless gasp, again. “And my dick hurts. I think I came dry that last time.”

“Poor baby,” you coo, not quite sincere. “You really could’ve stopped at… what, three?”

Eyes closed and still smirking, he shakes his head, damp hair falling in his face. “No I couldn’t have— I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

“You certainly are.”

[luvyeni]

girllll can you please write a smut about churchboy!mark x fem!reader <33

NICE BOY; MARK LEE

pairings. churchboy!mark x fem!reader

wc. 1k

warnings. dom!mark , oral (m. recieving), face fucking , unprotected sex (he pulls out) , degrading, doggy style, crying

i hope you like it <3 !

everybody dotes on mark , his innocent church boy facade has blinded everyone , but you see it , you see right past him ...

—

you huff , watching your parents crowd around mark along with the other parents after service , rolling your eyes as he bats his eyelashes , speaking so kindly... like he wasn't drunkenly sticking his tongue down some random girls throat last night , just like he does every weekend.

mark is a good actor for sure , he was able to put up this act , this good boy next door and everyone ate it up like crazy , maybe you were jealous because almost slipped past your overbearing parents , but they couldn't see the mask that he was wearing.

"＿ , come." your mother called you over , you sighed , unfolding your arms , walking over to them. "yes mother." you said. "mark will be joining us for dinner tonight , his parents are staying for the extra service." the boy stood in front of you , that boyish smile. "i want you to give him a good welcome into our home , make him feel at home." you wanted to scream. "could you not do it." you said.

your mom glared at you , her eyes piercing your skin. "fine." your mother went back to smiling. "good , now why don't you two go wait in the car , me and your father will be out shorty." she handed you the keys , "be a good girl." you could see mark smirking out the corner of your eye.

you guys made it to the car , opening the door , climbing in. "i saw you glaring at me." mark finally spoke as soon as you closed the door. "yeah , that's because i don't like you." you reached over , turning the car on , music lowly playing on the radio , sitting back in your seat. "that's too bad , i think your pretty cool." you rolled your eyes.

"drop the act mark , you might have your parents and the church fooled but im not dumb." you scoffed. "what did i do?" mark wasn't offended , he just wanted to fuck with you. "that innocent act you put on annoys the fuck out of me , because you have everyone eating out the palm of your hand , when in reality you were struggling to stand yesterday , as you shoved your tongue in yeeun's or god knows where else." you hissed.

it was silent for a second , you thought you actually might've hurt his feelings , until he spoke again. "are you upset at that?" he started , "or is it because it's not you that im sticking my tongue in." he was real close , whispering in your ear , making you shiver , mark noticed this , smirking. "i think we've come to actual reason you're pissed , you want me to fuck you." you turned to him , disgust evident on your face. "in your dreams mark lee."

"i mean yeah you are , but im glad to know im in yours too." he kissed your cheek , you wiped it , making him laugh. "come on , no one's around , you don't have to pretend you hate me anymore." he said. "im not pretending." you smiled. "oh really , what if i just." his hand creeping up your thigh , you sighed , breathing picking up. "you mean to tell me you won't be wet as fuck." he bit his lip. "n..no." you tried to remain strong , but he could tell he was just inches away from breaking you. "okay , let's see." before you could say anything , he ran his thumb down your covered slit , you bit your lip as a act of defiance.

"tsk , i see you're a brat , i like brats , i love breaking them down into mindless sluts." he pulled his hand from under your dress. "fix yourself , your parents are coming." and just like that , he turned that innocent persona back on just as your parents opened the door , getting into the car. "i hope we didn't keep you waiting long mark , hoping our daughter hasn't been too much of nuisance." he smiled turning to you , his eyes dark with lust.

"no ma'am , she been such a good girl."

the ride home was nothing short of torturous , mark was sitting close to you , the sweet way he talked to your parents about the service , was a completely contrast to how he was toying with you , sneaking his hands up your skirt , playing with your clit through your panties , occasionally smirking when you bit your fist , or cover your mouth , looking out the window , trying not to moan , your parents not suspecting a thing.

"＿ , why aren't you talking?" your dad said. "because im not intrested." your mother called out your name. "stop acting like that , be kind to mark , you could learn a lot from a nice boy like him." you scoffed , "nice boy my a- shit!" you glared at mark because he pinched your thigh , causing your outburtst. "＿ ! we don't talk like that , what's wrong with ?" your mother questioned just as you pulled into your driveway. "let's just drop it , let's hurry inside , i have to prepare dinner."

as soon as you walked in , taking your shoes off , you beelined it to the steps. "young lady , where are you going?" your mother said. "upstairs , can i not do that?" you stated. "loose the attitude , and take mark with you." your draw dropped. "you barely allow haechan to sit on the couch , let alone go to my room alone." you exclaimed. "that's because who knows what you two will get up to up there , mark is a good boy , we trust him." you were about to say something , when your dad spoke up , "hurry the game is on , and i can't hear."

you looked at the boy , who sat there smiling , you just knew he was eating this up. "come on , don't just stand there." you stomped up the stairs , him following close behind you. "don't touch anything , just sit in the bed." you opened your bedroom door , letting him in , shutting the door.

"oh what's this." you turned around , your eyes widening as mark held your underwear in his hand. "these don't cover much do they , pretty sexy though." you snatch them out of his hands , stuffing them back into the drawer. "i told you not to touch anything." you snapped. "they were right there." he leaned back , manspreading , your eyes travelled down to his thighs.

"princess , my eyes are up here." he smirked. "unless , it's something you want down there. "like it could even get me to cum." you snorted , this must've pissed mark off. "get over here." his voice dropped a few octaves , shocking you, it turned you on a little. "now." you decided to play with him a bit now. "you want to listen to some music?" you turned on your speaker , turning on your favorite playlist. "i need to get out of this dress." you walked towards your bathroom , but mark was quicker , grabbing your arm , pulling you in between his thighs.

"you don't think i can't get you to cum?" he scoffed , "how about you ask yeeun." you rolled your eyes. "she's easy to please." you snapped back. "and you aren't , rubbing you through your panties had you biting your fist , trying not to moan like a slut on front of your parents." he hissed , unzipping your dress , pulling your dress down. "mark!"

"get on your knees." he said , you ignored him. "okay." he pushed you down to your knees , in between his legs. "i guess i do have to treat you like a rag doll." he unbuckled his pants , pushing them down enough , pulling his cock out. he was huge , definitely bigger than anyone you've ever taken. "i see the gears turning in that head of yours , i know it's big , i want you to take it all." he said. "i can't." he scoffed.

"i don't care , you were all big and bad before , but now you're too scared to take it , come on be a big girl." he grabbed your hair , making it into a makeshift ponytail , guiding his cock to your mouth , slapping his tip on your lips. "open." you obeyed and he immediately pushed your head down on it , guiding you all way down. "shit , that's it , take all of it." you gagged around him , struggling to take him.

"tsk , useless slut , come on take it all." he pushed your head all the way down on him. "that's it , now sit there on your knees and let me fuck your face." he groaned , as he bucked his hips up into your mouth , "fu..fuck your throat feels so good , taking my cock like a good slut." he held your head down on his cock.

"oh yeah , fuck im gonna cum all down your throat." you looked at him through your teary lashes , his head was thrown back as he gripped your hair. "oh fuck!" he pushed your head down , his cum flooding your throat , pushing your head off , coughing , mascara running down your face. "look at you , such a messy whore." he grabbed your arm , pulling you off the floor , basically throwing your body against your bed.

"ass up , now." you complied , fully submitted to him now. "look at you , you were being disrespectful to me , being a brat , now your so ready to be fucked by me." he pushed his pants all the way down. his legs dipped into the bed. "fucking slut." he slapped your ass. "shit mark!" you yelped.

"shut the fuck up , the last thing i need is your mother coming in , and seeing me whore her daughter out." he pulled your panties down , your pussy glistening. "such a messy pussy , this is crazy , i knew it , you just wanted me to fuck you , that's why you were acting like that." he hissed , running his cock up and down your folds. "mark , please." you wiggled your hips against him , he squeezed your ass. "come on slut , beg some more , i know you can do it."

"pl..please fuck me mark , please , i'll be good." you sounded pathetic , it made his cock harder , he slapped your ass one more , pushing his cock all the way inside you , your mouth dropping open. "fuck , such a tight cunt." he pulled out , slamming back into you. "mark." you hid your face in the pillow to cover your moans, as he roughly fucked into you.

"fucking clenching my dick , i thought i couldn't get you to cum , here you are about to cum already." he pushed down on your back , hitting a deeper spot. "i..im gonna cum." you whined , he smirked. "go a head and cum slut , cum for me." he slapped your ass as you came around him , biting the pillow to keep from screaming.

"shit." he cursed pulling out , flipping you over on to your back , lining his cock back up with your sensitive cunt. "ma..mark." you couldn't take him anymore. "oh no baby , im gonna make you cum until your mom calls for dinner." he pushed into you , your hands flying to your mouth , suppressing a scream , your back lifting off the bed as he fucked you.

"fu..fucking cunt is sucking me in , you claim you hate me , but your pussy is telling a different story." he trusted into you over and over , hips slapping against yours , a moan slipped out , he reached over , his hand coming up to throat , squeezing lightly. "i guess this is the only one to shut you up." he hissed , groaning himself , his orgasm inching up on him.

your eyes were rolled to back of your head , makeup ruined by your tears as the boy everyone was so innocent ruined your body. "look at you -shit- all fucked out by the person you claim to hate , gonna let me cum all over you , let the person you hate cum all over your body." you nodded dumbly. "cum first , cum on my cock again slut." you rubbed your clit , your mouth dropped open , but nothing came out as you came on his cock for the second time. "sh..shit , im gonna cum." he pulled out , tugging at his cock a few times , his cum spurting out , landing on your stomach and chest. "fuck."

both of you were breathless , chest heaving up and down , covered in sweat. "still hate me?" you wanted to kick him. "fu..fuck you." he smirked. "your mom hasn't call down yet." he rubbed his cock along your folds , you stopped , pushing at his hips. "i..i can't." you couldn't take another round , he laughed , just as you heard your mothers voice ,from downstairs.

"you're lucky this time, you need to fix yourself , wouldn't want your mom to see you like this." he put his clothes back on. "i'll see you down there princess." he winked , leaving out of your room , making his way downstairs.

"where is she?" your mouth ask as he sat down , he imagined you struggling to get dressed , your legs were probably wobbly and sore. he smiled , turning to your mother with the most innocent smile.

"she said she wanted to change into something more comfortable , she will be down shortly."

©️LUVYENI

[bllk-after-dark]

wildest fantasies.

pairing. itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu, nagi seishiro x f!reader

content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, how the top 6 imagine fucking you, dom!character x sub!reader, vary in each installment, some are prevalent than others (oops), written in lowercase

itoshi rin. breeding kink, creampie, degradation, edging, fingering, jealousy, marking, possessive behavior, wall sex

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. he fumes at a player from his team talking to you, who seems to be having fun when he sees you laugh. he doesn’t experience rage quite often, but that guy is the initial point and gets worse when the poster boy of blue lock strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, rin?” you become frustrated over the lack of dialogue. the entire ride on the way home was tense and he treated you like a ghost. he also feels the same, but for different reasons. as the two of you enter your house, he pins you to the door with both arms above your head and cunt on his knee. you attempt to focus on lust in his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat to leave bruises in its wake.

“craving attention from him out of all people, hm? fucking slut.” you gasp at the sharp friction of his knee against your cunt. he isn’t this rough and riled up, not that you’re complaining. he slips his fingers inside, pumping them in and out very slowly as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? lukewarm, want him and everyone else to know that you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you instill delicious images in his head. “how are you gonna show me off? the hickeys, sure. but what about a ring on my finger? your cum dripped out of me? or perhaps a baby in me?”

he pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm, leaving you a whining mess. the impulse to buy a fancy ring with his salary and propose to you live, to fuck you in the locker rooms to see copious amounts of cum staining your underwear, and to fuck you enough to make you pregnant so that damn golden boy can mind his own business — which he’ll gladly make it happen. he rams his cock in you without warning and spends the entire day in the bedroom to make sure it takes.  

“ah, there you are. i had to ask one of your teammates, but we lost track.” he’s back in the stadium, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match in-person was so exciting! i get to see you steal a ball by kicking it between another player’s legs and score a goal with a direct shot— is that it? whatever, you’re so cool, rin!”

he shuts you up by kissing you, and everyone in the stadium reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you so it’s on live television, his fans freak out that he’s actually in a relationship, and his teammates — specifically that guy — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he had done that, but he looks proud so you didn’t pry any further. “there. now the whole world knows.”

shidou ryusei. anal sex, blowjob, cuckolding, exhibitionism, face fucking, impact play (spanking), shower sex

demon is what everyone refers to him as. known to be vicious in the field, people hate to admit that he’s a damn good player. aside from being skilled at soccer, he’s also skilled at pulling risque acts in the context of yourself — willing to let the whole world know how tight you are. right now he’s fucking you from behind in the shower with hands on the wall and back slightly bent to stabilize yourself from his powerful thrusts.

“shit, you’re even tighter than yesterday!” he howls as his thick and wide cock drags along your walls and slaps your ass multiple times, leaving a red handprint there. this is a position favored by the both of you, and it never gets old. although, you do want to try out other things that you and he can find exciting. what he says afterwards is an adventure you can’t wait to embark on.

“i wonder if eyelashes will agree with me. how about we invite him someday?” you’d like that very much, honored to be acknowledged as a favorite pastime by the best player in japan. for now you want to practice sucking your boyfriend off, so you detach from him and kneel in front of his dick, lapping the bulbous tip with your tongue.

“holy shit, you’re tight here too! fucking hell… i dunno which one i like more but let’s find out, hm?” he shoves his cock deep into your throat and grips your head as he bucks his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull at how stimulating it is.

“feeling so fucking good. looking so fucking good, too. i bet you’ll do even better at the shower stalls in the locker rooms. or at a bar. or at an alley. or—” it’s incredible how he manages to talk about his shameless ideas when he’s at the verge of cumming whereas on the other hand you phased out. streams of opaque white gush out past your lips and trickle down your chin. his dick is still hard, meaning he’s ready for another round. his stamina is inhuman, like a demon. but knowing him, he won’t be satisfied until he has tried out every single thing on his growing list.

“can’t believe you took a nap during our bath. was expecting you to be more awake from the bath bomb i bought, but i guess not.” he’s greeted with a sweet peck, eyes fluttering halfway but can see you beaming at him brightly like the lights in the room. “got your towel here. now i have to drain the water, so shoo.”

he wraps his towel around his waist and then observes you unplug the drain. he happens to sneak a peek at the curve of your ass when you bend over to reach it, smug at how he happens to catch wind of how glorious the view is. he startles you by pinching the fat of your cheeks, and you turn to him, completely flustered. “what? want me to do it again?”

karasu tabito. aftercare, hand holding/kissing, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when he hints that he wants to have sex. you’re a virgin; the thought of being unable to satisfy someone, especially one experienced such as himself, is deeply rooted in your head. on the contrary, it’s a huge turn on. since it’s your first time, he wants to make it extra special. it makes him more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

he reaches for your face, staring at him like a lost puppy. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers slide to your chin then glide over your lips. he kisses you hard, taking your breath away as he gently pushes you down on the bed. he gives you time to breathe while he takes off his shirt. you looking intently on him makes his heart flutter, that his body is for your eyes only.

“i’m okay. you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves to bareness in the midst of devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want me to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he slowly penetrates you, his cock buried to the hilt inside your pussy. he blabbers about how you’re taking him so well, swearing he’ll cum faster than expected. he hooks a leg on his shoulder which allows him to thrust into you harder and deeper. the pitch of your voice rises higher and higher, you pull him toward your mouth to crash your lips against his. you hate how you sound it seems, but rest assured, it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re so perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” he hisses out as he spills inside you. you’ve gone exhausted afterwards, skin sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he’d like to happen, but the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed, meaning that the scenario is anything but real.

“tabito? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”  

“sure. let’s take things slow, then.” he kisses your forehead as a way to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow it makes you bolder, being the one to initiate the kiss while sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you immediately retract from the sudden move and are about to apologize for acting out of the blue. he cuts off a smile, gesturing you to keep on going. he’s so weak for you, and he’ll do anything to make you happy.

otoya eita. begging, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with your former significant other through the phone. he never liked them to begin with and doesn’t understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he wants what's best for you. yet he decides to remain civil, albeit painfully. though, it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you crumbling under touch.

“eita? can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice, but you saying his name is his greatest weakness. instead of heading it wirelessly, he’d prefer you moaning it in his ears when he’s railing you into a begging mess. he should feel guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to play the ‘good friend’ role. but promises are meant to be broken anyway. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over the shitty quality of your sex life your former partner provided, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your nipples and clit aching to be touched causes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, especially your male friends, but now it doesn’t matter. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head leaned back as he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end; it seems you have the same idea. “so you want me to make you forget? what if i tell you i’m jerking off right now, wishing that i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? what about you, wishing that my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours. please, faster!” your whines become more frequent that he cums on his hand and some on his thighs. he leans against the headboard, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he’d leave more proof that you’re forever his with no room for your ex in your world as it should. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been blanking out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to eita?” he snaps back to reality. the only real thing is the stickiness of his hand that’s covered in cum, so he really has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you can do me a favor but i think i rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah, sure.” you thank him before hanging up. he tosses his phone to the edge of the bed, contemplating what he has done. never, ever again will he do this and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to stick being the ‘good friend’ to comfort you through your breakup. he’ll do whatever it takes to prove he’s the better choice. they’ll be the day where you’re all his for the taking.

yukimiya kenyu. body worship, mirror sex, lap dancing, lingerie, riding, sex toys, strip tease, voyeurism

risk is his middle name. not only taking it to become the top striker in japan, but in the context of having strong urges to impale you on him. it’s confined in his pants, just like how his hands are confined to his sides. he’s restricted to ogle at your body clad in lace lingerie, attempting to tempt him to give into his desires with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers running down your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat to the point where he can almost break the bones of his hands. oh how badly he wants you, but being the menace you are, you keep insisting to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“mmm, not yet. keep your eyes on me,” you giggle, lifting his chin to face you with your mouth ghosting over his. you’re enjoying the sight way too much, but how can he also feel the same when you’re torturing him with the sway of your hips on his lap, the flex of your muscles when he glances at the many mirrors around him, and the teasing of your bra straps down past your shoulders? and when you also grind on his bulge along with a vibrator plugging in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

as if his body has a mind of its own, he finds himself dancing with you with an arm wrapped around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you with his life. then clothes start to fly off left and right. he yanks out your vibrator decorated with your slick and plunges you onto his throbbing cock, having you seated for his part of the performance. oh how the tables have turned; now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your face and body contorting in pleasure through the mirror beside him. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels your walls clench to make sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by so fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. he’s in the mall on a shopping spree with you to help you pick out new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. although when you mean by ‘spice up’, he doesn’t expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

he has speculations on whether you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him or just trying it out for fun. but all he do is marvel at how the lingerie fits nicely on your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better, hm?”

nagi seishiro. bulge kink, cockwarming, size difference (reader is implied to be smaller), somnophilia, spooning

warm is his favorite sensation when he’s curled up with you in bed. his chest is on your back and his left arm hugs your corresponding side while the other engulfs your right hand. his cock throbs inside you which can be seen poking your stomach, making him curse and groan as he places his hand there. the feeling is delicious, addicting even, and he’s hungry for more.

he pants against your neck as he lazily thrusts against your ass, the outline of the bulge moving up and down from what he can feel on his hand. so good, he chokes out in your ear, followed by a string of fucks and moans. that manages to wake you up, having you grab on the sheets from being overwhelmed by the pleasure from behind.

“sei…” his impatience causes your breath to hitch. at that moment you’re losing your damn mind upon his balls coming into contact with your skin. “fill me up…”

as he shushes you to go back to sleep, he kisses the junction of your neck and shoulder and hooks a leg over your waist for better access to pick up the pace to fulfill your wish. “mm, yeah. gonna make you so warm and full of me.”

“hm, sei?” the morning light seeps through the blinds, spotlighting on you who’s sitting up on his bed stretching. for some reason, you press your butt against his groin which is painfully— oh. “um, did you get hard from sleeping with me last night?”

it’s a dream after all. he throws the blanket over his head and turns away from you, refusing to answer as it’ll be bothersome to explain in detail. you dismiss his silence with ‘okay’ and by telling him you have to go to work. when you reach the edge of the bed, he pins you down with his arm around your waist and drags you closer to him.

“stay with me. just a bit longer.” you cave into his whims, deciding to indulge him during then by pulling your pants down to take his huge length. it somehow knocks you out, and he hopes that you’ll forgive him for making you late. but you’re so warm and so good, just like in his dreams.

vera. ayo, finally i posted something. it’s my first time writing smut and i died inside. as expected: it’s 10% smut, 90% cringe. the top 6 has me in a chokehold and i’m not okay.

[onelittlespiral]

You should make a top to bottom story!

FML: Worship

He had always been a great gym crush. When I was getting my pump, he would consistently be just a few machines over. His fiery hair and muscles glistened as he moved through his reps. I always worked a little harder when he was there, even though I knew it wouldn’t work. We had hardly ever exchanged words, but the few we had let me know he was straight as an arrow. I was a stacked guy myself, and I knew that there were countless twinks who would fawn over the chance to get with all this:

But I wanted him. I started slowly working up the nerve to talk to him, and was shocked to learn he knew my name

“Yeah man, I’ve seen you round here. You’ve got some sick gains, you’ve got to let me know your routine!”

From there, I decided to make a plan to ensure he would become mine.

I found a video that promised to create a “Gym Bro to Perfect Sub” out of any guy who watched it. It’s description promised that a single whiff of their dom would leave them madly in love and obedient. I told him that we should meet up at my place for some prep before hitting the gym together tomorrow. He was happy to oblige.

When he came over I quickly welcomed him in and ushered him to the couch. He sat patiently as I told him I had a tutorial for the routine set up to show the proper form. I cued up the video and left the room, turning back just to make sure it was all going according to plan. In just a few seconds, he was grinning stupidly as he fell under the spiral’s control.

As he fell deeply into a trance, the programming began:

You put in so much work bro. You should lean back and relax.

Intuitively, he leaned back on the couch, putting his feet up and hands behind his head. He had been really overworked the last few weeks.

Sit back and feel your body. Notice the feeling of muscle squeezing. Smell your body radiate heat and sex through stale deodorant. Feel the power you have. The power to change the world around you.”

He grinned as the feeling of masculinity flowed through him. He felt his muscles ache from yesterday’s workout. He had banged hard the night before and his musk was definitely not being held back by yesterday’s Axe. But the ladies loved it. He could pull just about any chick he wanted, do anything he wanted. He was a king.

You think about the person you see yourself as. But that’s not quite true, is it?

What? Nah man, he knew he was the shit. He was… he was… wasn’t he?

That’s not who you are. That’s who you could be.

As his self-perception popped, his body began to follow suit. His mature scowl began to take on a more boyish smirk. His once imposing stature shrunk down as he felt a bit more awkward and out of place. He still had potential though. Plenty of time to grow. He still worked religiously on his body to keep it plenty strong.

That’s the kind of men you look up to. Big powerful biceps. Pecs firm. Asses bubbly and tight. Cool, assertive personalities. Thick dicks to back it all up.

Y…no… yesss. That’s right. How silly of him. His arms deflated from buff to, generously, toned. His pecs shrunk down into his chest. His glutes lost tone as they became firm but small. His body sweat at the effort of losing years of hard work as muscle evaporated off of him.

This isn’t even the man you want to be. This is the man you want to be with.

At this moment, his mind flicked to his new mentor. He was promising to show him how to get shredded like him. The way his muscles glistened as he worked out… The way he towered over small guys like himself… The way his hair curled around his pecs and into those pits and captured his raw smell…

A hard on quickly developed, throbbing at the new feelings of lust. He began gently rubbing, imagining how good it would feel to pound his crush’s ass as any memories of straight life began leaking out his tip.

Men like that don’t need competition. They need relief from all the gym bros. They want a little bro. A boy toy.

All at once the need moved from his pole to deep inside. A deep itch he could never reach. A high pitched moan escaped as his ass felt so empty and needy. His thoughts of topping were drained away as he felt his ass reshaped to take cock. Any fight left in him melted away as the need to be fucked consumed his mind.

They deserve worship. They demand obedience and submission.

His mind, effectively broken at this point, slowly began to rebuild itself with one goal in mind. To bring pleasure. To serve. To feel a man use him as a tool for pleasure. He needed to submit. The spiral pushed on.

Good boy. You are ready for your new purpose. Your big, smelly gym bro will walk in soon and come to claim you. As his presence envelopes you, you will see him as yours. You will serve him so well and he will take care of you in turn.

He was ready. His mind emptied of any remaining thoughts but service and pleasure.

Good Boy.

His brain felt a warm wave of joy flow over it. He wanted to behave.

So submissive.

God he needed his dom, he needed to submit.

Perfectly happy, dumb, ready to serve.

Yeah, sooooo… happppppy… so… empty…

Now wait.

I walked into the room to his mouth still stuck agape, mind empty and happy. As my feet hit the floor, he came to, and looked over at me. I could feel his gaze trace my body as just my presence began to change his brain chemistry. “Get over here boy. ”

“Hiiii… oh god… fuuuuuck”

I walked over, picked him up off the couch, and pressed him against the wall.

“Yeah babe, take it all in. You’re much cuter. Daddy has been waiting far too long for this. I want you on this dick now,” I growled.

I watched as his mind was overtaken again, the programming taking over as my scent consumed him and my fur pressed against his body. His gaze was pure longing as he savored the scent that would become his world.

“Yes sir.” His breath was quick and heavy as his small hard on pressed against my stomach. He was drooling over my body as his tongue rolled out his mouth. He practically melted in my embrace, perfectly submissive.

“Good.” I carried him to the bed room, ready to give my new boyfriend the workout I had promised.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

shy!jealous!ethan x reader smut??

Hiii, I think I used a little more jealousy than shyness in this. Oops :/ I hope you still like it :)

Why Worry - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan's jealous of another guy, so you show him that you're his.

A/N: Some things in this really make me want to write another Dom!Ethan smut🥴

You got really close with Ethan after meeting the “Core Four”, so close that you took his virginity. Ethan had feelings for you before all of that happened, but he was too scared of rejection to tell you how he actually felt. The more he thought about that night, he felt like you were probably just doing him a favor, and that there were no feelings from your end. He still tried to treat you the same, not wanting anything to feel weird.

As he walked into the class you two had together, he saw a guy sitting in the seat beside you, the seat Ethan always sat in. He watched him flirt with you, his heart breaking at the interaction in front of him. He was trying to find another seat when you whisper-yelled his name to get his attention. He glanced over to see your curious expression, and that the guy was gone.

“Hey,” you said to Ethan as he sat down beside you. “Why were you going to sit over there?”

“There was someone in my seat when I walked in,” he said, irritation in his voice as he pulled his MacBook out.

“Oh, Jake? He was just asking me for my notes from music theory. He missed the class yesterday,” you said, as the teacher walked in to start his lecture.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all he wanted,” Ethan rolled his eyes, glancing a couple rows back to see Jake still staring at you. “Dude’s still checking you out.”

“Why is it a big deal?” you asked, starting to get a little annoyed. Ethan had no reason to get jealous when he didn’t even try to pursue you after you’d slept with him. If anything, you felt like you’re the one that should be mad.

“It’s not, don’t worry about it,” he sighed, as the professor started to speak.

When class was over, Ethan packed his stuff and bolted out of the classroom. He usually walked you back to your dorm because it was on the way to his. You sighed as you put your stuff away, not knowing what to do.

You wanted to give Ethan time to cool off, but you needed to know what his problem was. You passed your dorm and went to his, taking a deep breath before you knocked on the door.

“Hey!” Chad said as he answered, his normal happy grin on his face.

“Hey, is Ethan here?” you asked, as he pulled his hoodie over his head in the doorway.

“Yeah, he’s here. You kids have fun, I’m going to take Tara to a movie tonight,” Chad said, walking out the door.

You saw Ethan on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. “Why didn’t you walk me home?”

“I thought you’d want Jake to,” he said, his words starting to piss you off.

“Okay, whatever weird jealousy shit this is, it’s dumb. I don’t want Jake,” you said, reaching over to take the phone from his hands so he’d be present for the conversation that obviously needed to be had.

“I’m not jealous,” Ethan said, as you cocked your eyebrow at him. Your stare was on him for a few seconds. “Fuck it. Yes, I’m jealous.”

“You don’t really have the right to be jealous, though,” you said, his face getting flush at your words.

He was trying to be calm, but he was really starting to get upset.

“I think you should go,” he whispered, grabbing his phone again.

“Not until you tell me why you’re jealous. You’re the one that acted like nothing happened between us.”

“You’re the one that only wanted to fuck me because you felt sorry for me!” he yelled, tossing his phone back down. His eyes were wide as he looked into yours, but you could see the hurt through the anger.

“You ever think that maybe I wanted to have sex with you because I was interested in you?” you asked, “I had a huge crush on you. Chad said you felt the same, but then you just acted like it was nothing. That shit hurt.”

Ethan watched you wipe away the stray tear that slipped out, feeling like an idiot.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said, sitting up to scoot closer to you.

“Yeah, I did,” you said, as he pulled you into a half-hug.

“So, you DID feel that way. You don’t anymore?” he asked, nervous that you could hear how loud his heart was pounding in his chest.

“I still feel that way.”

He exhaled a sigh of relief as his hand reached your jaw, turning your face towards his as he leaned in.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk,” he said, his mouth inches from yours.

“I’ll forgive you if you kiss me,” you smirked, before your lips linked together.

He was kissing you with determination, like he needed to prove how much he wanted to be with you. It was so sweet and loving, but you really wanted to turn up the heat. When he pulled away a little to catch his breath, you lightly bit his bottom lip. He gasped at your action, pushing you back on the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, placing a kiss to your lips, before moving to your neck.

You were really getting into it, as your hands started to run over his chest and his arms as he continued to kiss you. You started to lift the hem of his shirt up when he pulled away and smiled at you.

“I get the feeling that you’re trying to fuck me,” he said, pulling the article of clothing over his head.

“I am, and I promise it’s not me trying to do you a favor,” you said, in a playful tone as you thought about what he said earlier.

“What if Chad comes back?” he asked, glancing between you and the door.

“He’s going to be gone for a couple hours,” you said, pulling him back down to reconnect your lips.

“Maybe I should text him, just in case,” he mumbled against your lips.

“Okay,” you groaned as he pulled away.

He sent the message but waited for Chad’s response once he saw the three dots. He laughed when he saw the message.

“He said there’s condoms in his nightstand if I need them, and that I better not fuck this up,” he said, walking over to grab one of the condoms.

You giggled as he walked back over to you, noticing his erection confined by the fabric of his jeans.

“I think I need to get you out of your shirt,” he said, tossing the condom on the bed.

He raised your shirt as you lifted up a little so he could easily get it over your head. He placed kisses to the parts of your breasts that were exposed as he reached behind you to unhook your bra. He pulled the straps down your arms with ease, before placing gentle licks to your nipples. The coolness of the room and the wetness on your nipples gave you chills as his mouth continued.

You were whimpering as he placed open mouth kisses to your ribs as his hands gripped your hips. He was teasing you, and as badly as you wanted him to fuck you, he was so good with his mouth. You started to move your hips against his, attempting to give your clit a little relief from the throbbing.

He took the hint, reaching his hand down to rub you over your pants.

“I’m sorry if I’m still not the best at this, I’ve only done it once,” he said, laughing a little.

“You’re doing such a good job,” you praised, as he started to unbutton your pants.

He slid them down your thighs as you watched him. He saw the giant wet spot on your panties, and he got this feral glint in his eyes.

“God, baby. Your panties are soaked,” he said, rubbing you over the material.

“Mhm,” you mewled, “It’s all for you.”

“All for me, huh?” he said, his actions getting more intense.

He took off his pants, before crawling back to you and adjusting your hips the way he wanted them. His cock in his boxers was rubbing against your clothed pussy.

“Fuck,” you gasped, as his hand grabbed your breast, squeezing as he gently pulled on your nipples.

He’d definitely gained some confidence since the last time, but you were really starting to grow impatient.

“Ethan, please fuck me,” your moans were desperate as you begged.

“You don’t want me to eat you out first?” he asked, a little bummed.

“Baby, I need to cum. I don’t care how you make that happen,” you said, grabbing his hand that was still on your nipple and pushing it down your stomach.

“Oh, I’ll make you cum,” he said, pulling your panties off you.

Your legs instinctively started to spread as he pushed them back.

“I need you to hold these back for me,” he said, before licking a fat stripe across your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, his tongue moving faster against you.

He alternated between licking it and sucking it into his mouth, loving the filthy sounds pouring out of your mouth.

He reached into his boxers to pull his aching cock out, stroking it slowly for a few seconds. Your eyes connected with his as he slid two fingers inside of you.

“Ethannn,” you whined out, his fingers hitting your g-spot over and over again.

He smirked as he latched back onto your clit, your back arching off the bed as his teeth gently grazed it.

“Yes baby just like that, fuck,” you whimpered, as his finger movements sped up.

Your eyebrows knitted together as your mouth fell open. Your hips were starting to move with his fingers, desperately chasing your orgasm.

“That feels so fucking good, Eth. You’re doing so good,” you gasped out, that feeling starting to build inside you.

The praise you were giving him made his fingers press harder against the sweet spot inside your clenching pussy, making you see stars.

“I’m gonna cum,” you babbled, the feeling washing over you making it hard to speak.

He kept going as your toes curled into the sheets, and your thighs were shaking as you were trying to keep them up.

He pulled his fingers out of you and placed a single kiss to your clit, before crawling up your body to kiss you.

“That was amazing,” you mumbled against his lips. “Want me to suck your cock?”

“I don’t know, I’m kinda liking the idea of you as a pillow princess,” he smirked, grabbing the condom off the bed beside you. You frowned at his words. “Hey, I loved it last time, but I don’t think we have a lot of time left.”

He was right, the two of you have been going at this for a while. “Fine,” you whispered.

“Are you giving me attitude?” he asked, that feral look still in his eyes. He was smiling, but you knew there was some darkness to it.

“No, baby,” you said, sitting up to kiss him as he was lining up between your legs.

He held you there, your lips clashing with his, as he slid his cock inside of you.

“Oh shit,” you moaned, the position making it easy for him to hit your g-spot.

Your eyes connected with his, your faces inches apart, as he went all the way in.

“Fuck, you’re going so deep,” you cried out.

“Lay back babe,” he said, releasing the grip he had on you.

Your legs wrapped around his hips as he started to speed up. He was just as deep, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your body reacted to the pleasure.

“I love watching your tits bounce when I fuck you,” he grunted. Sweat was starting to drip down his forehead. “And I love the way your tight little pussy squeezes my cock.”

Your whimpers got louder as he spoke.

“Oh baby, you like it when I talk to you like that?” he asked, his fingers starting to rub your clit.

“Mhm,” you moaned, the stimulation turning your mind to mush.

“I love those pretty sounds coming out of your mouth. I’m so lucky.” he said, watching your facial expressions change as he spoke. “This pussy is mine.”

The possessiveness of his words made you start to clench around him.

“Fuck yes, I’m all yours,” you moaned out, your vision starting to get spotty.

“You gonna cum on my cock baby?” he asked, applying a little pressure to your clit.

“Umf..yes.”

As your orgasm hit, he was thankful, because he’s been close for a few minutes and was trying to hold back. He started to pound into you, making your climax even more intense.

“I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, his hips coming to a stop as he released into the condom. “Fuck, that was amazing.”

You nodded, unable to form words. Your mind cleared quickly, though, as you heard the door to his dorm room unlock.

“Shit,” he said, throwing a sheet over you and getting rid of the condom.

Chad walked in, before turning right back around.

“You know I love you, dude, but that’s more of you than I ever needed to see,” you giggled at Chad’s words.

“You knew what was happening in here though!” Ethan said, putting his boxers back on.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect it to still be going on after two hours,” he said, your eyes going wide as you realized how quickly the time passed. “I’m going to wait out here so you guys can get dressed.”

The door closed behind him as you started to laugh so hard that tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“It’s not funny!” Ethan said, laying down on his stomach beside you.

“It kinda is, just think if he was a few minutes earlier,” you said, wiping the tears from your face.

“So, does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” he asked, running his hand over the sheet covering your thigh.

“It fucking better.”

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part thirty-four] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni ; 18+)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional smut warnings: protected sex, public(ish) sex

“Were you able to get some rest?” Jisung asked, hand in yours as you walked through the airport together. 

“Not much,” you admitted. 

“Thankfully, I don’t think we’re doing anything today. We can just crash when we get to the hotel.”

“Okay.”

Jet lag was hitting you particularly hard. Oahu was a whole eighteen hours behind Bali, meaning you were technically in yesterday. Everyone else seemed to be handling it fine but maybe that was because they hadn’t ruined their relationship with their best friend by sleeping with his brother. 

It was midday and already hot as hell. You waited outside with the Hans while Dom filled out the paperwork for rental cars. He called Minho inside to sign a waiver that allowed him to be the driver of the other car. Minho was the only one of the four of you who was old enough to legally drive a rental car and he rubbed it in the rest of your faces with a shake of the keys once he rejoined your group. 

 “Follow us to the resort,” Dom instructed Minho. “I’ll send you the address in case you lose us.”

You climbed into the backseat with Jisung and slumped over on his shoulder. You tried to stay awake as Minho drove through the island but your eyelids were feeling heavy and the winding mountain roads weren’t helping. 

“Are we not staying in Honolulu?” you asked, watching the road signs zoom past. 

“We’ll take a day trip over there but my parents wanted to stay at Ko’Olina again because they liked it so much last time,” Jisung explained. 

“Right, I forgot that you guys have been here before.” 

“I try not to think about it.”

Your time in Hawai’i was being split between two islands: Oahu and Kauai. In Oahu, you were staying in separate hotel rooms, and in Kauai, everyone was sharing a condo again. 

It was nice to be able to have your own space but it also meant that there really wasn’t a way to avoid Jisung. You were kind of stuck with him. At least he was speaking to you again. He’d had some time to cool down so he wasn’t as angry but you could tell that he didn’t particularly want to spend time with you either. 

You were stuck at a crossroads in that respect. You weren’t sure how to mend things with him but you knew you wanted to. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way. He had been pretty clear the night that he found out about you and Minho that he wanted nothing to do with you outside of your already agreed-upon deal. But that had been in the heat of the moment. You had tried extinguishing any flicker of hope that threatened to engulf you in order to protect yourself from being hurt again, but it was getting harder and harder to do the more time you spent with him. 

Sometimes it felt like nothing had changed. There were fleeting moments shared between just the two of you when there was no one around to pretend for that made you think your friendship might still be salvageable. But they never lasted long. They were lapses in Jisung’s judgment, when he would accidentally let his guard down, acting like you were still those kids you had been back at school, like you were still his favorite person. 

He ordered room service for the two of you and you ate in relative silence. When the tension became unbearable you turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, ultimately deciding on some show playing on The Food Network. Perfect vacation television. It was a rerun of Chopped. You could tell it was a rerun from the dated fashion choices and technology- not because you were an avid fan or anything, though you had seen your fair share of episodes by being best friends with a culinary student. Whenever you watched it together Jisung liked to play a game where he would invent his own dishes with the ingredients the contestants were given. 

“What would you make with that?” you asked, nodding at the screen, trying to lighten the mood.

He took a moment to think, mulling over the assortment of items in his mind. “Probably a salad of some kind since it’s the appetizer round. It’s a cop-out but I could make a dressing with that peanut brittle.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Knowing you, it would probably still taste good.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Or I just know you.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

-

Later that night, after you had both showered, you tried bringing up your conversation from the other day but Jisung shut you down entirely. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he mumbled, tossing one of the extra pillows from the bed onto the armchair a little harder than necessary. 

“But-”

“I’m just not ready yet,” he cut you off. “I... don’t want to say anything else I don’t mean. And I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”

There it was again, that stupid spark of hope struck like a match against the side of your heart. 

You nodded in understanding, biting your lip to keep from showing just how disappointed you were. 

It was a strange mix of emotions, hope and disappointment. They were complete opposites but somehow you were feeling them simultaneously. 

“O-okay,” you said shakily, watching as he climbed into bed. 

You moved to do the same even though it felt painfully awkward, how were you supposed to just go to bed after that? How did people in relationships do it? How did people just roll over and fall asleep like nothing had happened after an argument? 

As soon as you reached to pull the sheets back, fingertips brushing the fabric, your phone vibrated next to you on the bedside table. 

You glanced at the screen and saw that it was a message from Minho. He was asking you to meet him downstairs. It wasn’t that late but it was already dark and it had been a long day. What could he possibly want?

Jisung must have noticed the look on your face because he sighed and muttered “go” at you without meeting your eyes. 

“I, uh, I’ll be back. Later.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You made sure to grab a room key on the way out and then hurried down the hall to the elevator, pressing the down button over and over again until it finally arrived at your floor. 

Minho was waiting for you in the lobby like he said he would be, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed impatiently. To your surprise, he smiled when he saw you. 

“What’s so important you couldn’t tell me over text?” you demanded in annoyance. 

Minho’s grin faltered but didn’t fall. He just eyed you with an air of amusement. “Who said I had something to tell you?”

“Why else would you make me come down here?”

He raised an arm, dangling the key to the rental car he had driven earlier that day. “Wanna get out of here?”

-

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly.”

Minho placed his hand over his heart and winced. “You wound me.”

“Just tell me where you’re taking me!”

“But that ruins the surprise!” he argued. 

“The surprise? It’s like eleven p.m. and I’m tired! Why are you dragging me out at this hour? Jisung’s already annoyed that I came down here to meet you in the first place.”

“How does he know?”

“Who else would text me at this hour?”

“Fair point. But are you just going to stand there and interrogate me all night or are we doing this?”

You huffed in frustration. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is!”

“Come on!”

Minho grabbed your hand before you could argue any further and dragged you out through the lobby into the parking lot. 

“So now you’re kidnapping me?” you exclaimed, tripping over your own feet.

Minho chuckled but still shot you a look of warning. “Keep your voice down! People are going to think you’re serious.”

“Yes, sir,” you deadpanned. 

“Stop trying to turn me on in public, you already have an unfair advantage.”

You weren’t sure how serious he was but you rolled your eyes anyway. You also didn’t know what he meant by the second part but you didn’t ask about that either. 

He didn’t let go of your hand until you reached the car. And even then, it seemed like he was hesitant to release you from his grasp, fingers lingering on your palm like he was afraid you’d run away the second he set you free.

But you climbed into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt without a second thought. A series of poor decisions had already led you here. What was a couple more?

Mostly, your curiosity is what drove you to get in the car with him. You figured you didn’t have much to lose at this point. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to Minho in the last few days. You had assumed he’d want nothing to do with you after you fucked up his relationship with his brother-- then again, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with you and was only driving you somewhere where he could chew you out without anyone overhearing. Hell, maybe he was taking you out to a pier where he could push you in the water so that your body would never be found. 

No, he's too famous for that. He’d never get away with it. 

You were silent as Minho put the car in gear and backed out of the lot. As soon as he turned onto the main road he rolled the windows down, glancing over at you to make sure it didn’t bother you. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

You watched him mess with the radio dial until a signal from a local station was picked up. Once he found something, he adjusted the volume so that you could hear the music over the sound of the rushing wind, and then he reached across the center console, hand outstretched. The gesture caught you off guard, and you were unsure whether or not you should take it. You figured it would be more awkward if you left him hanging so you looked away and slipped your fingers between his, relaxing into the familiar feeling. 

The roads were mostly empty. Everything was already closed for the night. Eventually, Minho merged onto the highway, heading east. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” you asked twenty minutes later when he still hadn’t taken an exit. You were beginning to suspect that he didn’t really have anyplace in particular in mind, that he was just taking you for a late night drive, which would have been fine. You liked long drives too. But he had made it all seem so mysterious and the anticipation was killing you. 

“Of course I do, how dare you doubt me!”

“It’s just that you don’t have a GPS on or anything!”

“I’ve been here before,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, one time three years ago.”

“That’s all I need,” he assured you. “And if you pay attention to the road signs you don’t even need to memorize the route.”

“You sound like my dad,” you mumbled. 

“Your dad must be a very talented navigator,” Minho said decisively, complimenting himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but he didn’t fail his driver’s test- what was it, four times?”

“Low blow,” he chided and shook his head. 

“You needed to be humbled.”

Comfortable silence resumed between the two of you as Minho continued driving. He got off the highway a few miles later and wove through town before finally turning onto a rocky uphill path. The radio signal weakened almost immediately, static interrupting the music that had been playing. He turned the volume down out of instinct.

“Remind me, do you get carsick?” Minho asked suddenly, like it was an afterthought that had just occurred to him. 

“Um, sometimes? Why do you ask?”

“These roads are winding,” he explained, “they might make you nauseous. Just try to look straight ahead. Don’t look at your phone.”

“I haven’t looked at my phone this entire time!”

“Well don’t start now.”

You braced yourself for the twists and turns of the road but it was difficult to anticipate where they would be with how dark it was. The headlights of the car were the only source of light on the gravel road, everything else surrounded by shadows and silhouettes of trees.

Finally, just when you were starting to feel a little lightheaded, Minho pulled into a little lot on the side of the road. 

“Are we here?” you asked, squinting in the darkness to try and make anything out.

“Yup,” Minho answered with a smile.

He turned off the car, letting the headlights dim.

“Come on!”

“We’re getting out?” you exclaimed. 

“Would you just trust me?” 

Sighing, you kicked open the passenger side door and climbed out of the car. Minho rounded the back to meet you on your side, blanket in hand. 

“Where are we?”

“Listen.”

You closed your eyes and did as you were told, waiting for any sort of clue as to where you were. In the distance, you could hear waves crashing against the shore. The salt in the air and the sound of breeze rustling through palm fronds only confirmed what you already knew. 

“You took me to the beach?”

“Follow me.”

Minho took your hand and led you along the sandy path down to the shore. You toed off your shoes and held them in your free hand as you walked. The place was practically empty. The only other signs of life were the flames from a bonfire about half a mile down the beach.  

Minho used the flashlight on his phone so you could see where you were going, keeping you steady when you tripped over your own feet in the uneven sand. 

“Careful there,” he chuckled. 

He picked a spot that wasn’t too far from the path, something that put a little more distance between you and the bonfire. 

“Is this okay?”

“Seems as good a place as any,” you said and shrugged. 

Minho laid out the blanket and motioned for you to sit on it. The sand underneath the fabric was cool, having long lost hold of the heat from the sun. It molded to the shape of your body as you chose a comfortable position. 

You could feel Minho’s presence beside you but neither of you moved closer to the other. You figured he hadn’t brought you all the way out here to sit in silence, but you didn’t want to be the one to prompt the conversation. He was the one who was so insistent on coming, he could make the first move. 

He did, after several more moments. You waited patiently, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His eyebrows were knit together, eyes downcast, as if he were having an internal argument with himself. Then, his expression softened and he met your gaze, any trace of conflict seemingly absolved.

“You look really pretty.”

You scoffed. “You can’t even see me that well.”

“Speak for yourself, I can see you perfectly.”

“It’s dark out!”

“We have the moonlight.”

“Barely.”

“I think you need to get your eyes checked,” Minho teased. 

“Did you bring me out here just to make fun of me?”

“Yeah, are you not having a good time?” Minho asked. “Do I need to up my game?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t grant him a response, instead pulling your knees to your chest so that you could rest your chin on them. 

“Do you like it? Here, I mean?”

You nodded. “It’s nice. Quiet.”

“Mhm.”

“But why this beach? I mean, we’re on an island, the whole place is beach, but you drove me all the way out here.”

“It’s usually pretty empty, especially at night.”

“And you know that because... you’ve taken lots of girls out here?”

“If you count my mum, then yes,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t exactly frequent the island of O’ahu.” 

“So you’re saying that if you did, you’d bring girls here all of the time?”

“Oh, totally. It’s how I’d seal the deal, like all the assholes in the movies.”

“By telling them they’re the first one you’ve ever brought here?”

“Exactly. But you know I’m telling you the truth because you already slept with me.”

You shoved him with a scoff, a little harder than you intended, making Minho fall back onto the blanket. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for.”

He grinned sheepishly and then stretched out the arm that was closest to you. “C’mon, then. Join me.”

You shifted a bit, moving further down on the quilt so that when you laid back Minho’s arm would slot perfectly under your neck. You curled up to him, slinging your own arm across his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing along with the sounds of the waves breaking against the shore was soothing. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in a long time. You were halfway to sleep when you felt Minho murmur something into your hair. 

“What?’ you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open. 

“The stars, look.”

You repositioned yourself a bit so that you could stare straight up at the sky to see what he was talking about, gasping quietly when you did.

It wasn’t as impressive as the night skies on the boat had been, you were much closer to civilization now, but it was still better than anything you’d ever gotten to see back home. It was as if the sky was dripping with diamonds, stars hanging out of reach like they were on display at a store far out of your budget. 

“It’s gorgeous.”

“I thought you might like it,” Minho mused, “I’m glad the clouds cleared so you could see them.”

“It’s nice here even without the stars,” you assured him. “Though, they’re definitely a highlight.”

Minho turned his head to look at you, smiling. Your eyes had adjusted slightly, allowing you to see the details of his face. 

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but the next thing you knew you were kissing him. Minho cupped your face with both hands and pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, silently begging you to open your mouth. You did, gasping when he got impatient and nipped at your bottom lip.  

You took the initiative this time and rolled on top of him, working your hands under his t-shirt to feel him up. 

“Missed this,” Minho sighed, “missed you.”

“It’s only been like three days!” 

“Way too long, if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes but let the comments fuel your ego anyway.

He matched your pace and dropped his hands from your face to let them roam your body. It didn’t take long for them to find your tits, fingers brushing over your nipples underneath the fabric of your shirt. You rolled your hips against his, already able to feel that he was half hard through his sweats.

Minho groaned and broke away from kissing you to catch his breath, tilting his head back and swallowing hard. His hips stuttered underneath you, encouraging you to keep going. You took over and began kissing your way down his neck. 

“Do you have a condom?” you asked breathlessly

You knew you were acting desperate but it’s because you were desperate. You were aching for him and your panties were beginning to feel uncomfortably sticky. 

“Are you sure?” Minho asked, not answering your question. 

“Yes, fuck, where are they?”

He propped himself up on his elbows and nodded down at his pocket. “I still have a few in my wallet.”

You sat up a little and brought one of your hands down to his pants, brushing your palm over his erection before fumbling for his wallet in his pocket. 

“You’re a menace,” he hissed as he kicked his head back. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

You retrieved a condom and slid the wallet back into his pocket, tearing the foil wrapper open while you tried to get his pants off at the same time. 

“Need help?”

“No, I got it,” you muttered.

You were able to get Minho’s pants down far enough to get his dick out and put the condom on him before pushing your own pajama shorts and panties to the side so you could ride him without having to take them all the way off. 

“Wait, I haven’t even fingered you or anything,” Minho interjected, putting a hand on your stomach to stop you from lowering yourself onto him. “It’ll hurt.”

“We don’t really have a lot of time,” you argued back, “I’m really wet already. You don’t need to.”

“Bullshit,” he countered in disbelief. 

You were starting to get annoyed. Why wouldn’t he just fuck you like you wanted? You could tell Minho was getting frustrated as well, confused as to why you were rushing into it.

“At least let me rub your clit a little first?” he pleaded. 

You wanted to tell him that it really was fine, that you’d just need a couple of extra seconds to adjust to his size, but he was already running a thumb over your pussy, feeling around for the spot that would make your knees buckle.  

“F-fuck,” you whispered when he found it, arching just slightly to press yourself into him further.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Minho asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. 

You couldn’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“Still gotta be quiet, though,” he reminded you, “don’t want to let those folks down the way know what we’re up to, huh?”

You nodded in agreement even though you had completely forgotten about the people having a bonfire on the beach. They were likely too far away to see the two of you in the dark, but you knew sound carried so you would still have to be careful. 

“Can you put it in now? Just want to feel you.” You threw in a pout at the end just for good measure, hoping that would be enough to get you what you wanted. 

Minho nodded and put a hand on either of your hips to help you. You sighed in relief as you sank down on him, finally feeling full. You were able to take him all at once but you did need more time to adjust to having him inside of you, to which Minho cockily mouthed I told you so at you.

Once the discomfort ebbed away you leaned down and pressed your chest to his, resting your head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you started rocking yourself on his cock, trembling at just how deep he could get at this angle. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you mumbled. 

He carded a hand through your hair and cocked his head to the side. “What, having sex on the beach?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s a first for me too,” Minho admitted. 

“Better make it memorable then, right?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[parmahamlarrie]

Welcome back to another post for the directory of fic recs on my blog! If you would like a specific theme or trope, let me know! If you would like me to reblog your fic, submit it here and I will add it to the queue! **This post will be updated as I have more fics in this theme to recommend!**

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[peppermintquartz]

Buck is outside manning the comms, with Chimney monitoring two people breathing in oxygen, having been closest to the malfunctioning pyrotechnics. The arena is being checked by the rest of the team. At least there aren't any serious casualties.

Two guys clad in leather gear - one of them with long braided hair and eyeliner, the other with very striking blue eyes and impossible abs- wander over to Buck.

"Hey, thanks for what you're doing," says the shorter one. He has a distinct Irish accent. Buck is certain that if he were not already happily attached, he'd want to try his luck with this one. "Pyro really fucked up tonight."

The tall one laughs, his voice a mellow, deep tone. "Hunter's gonna have their heads for this screwup. Imagine if this was at Mania." He mimes an axe chopping at his neck.

"Sometimes circuits go haywire," Chimney chimes in. "I heard there wasn't anything wrong yesterday during rehearsals."

Irish shrugs. "I was there only for our bit. Pyro went off okay at that time." Then he smiles, and it's a megawatt smile that hits Buck like a truck. "Forgot my manners. Fergal, but people round here also call me Finn."

"Damian," says the tall one.

Buck shakes their hands. Damn, they're strong. "Buckley, but I go by Buck. This is Chimney."

Damian looks curious. "That's an interesting nickname. How did you get it?"

Before Chimney shares his story, another guy calls out, "Heyo! I was looking for you guys. Ay, who's this handsome brother?"

The guy that called out and joins them is taller than Fergal, with a genuine mullet and some unfortunate facial hair, but he has a bouncy, golden retriever energy about him even though he's dressed in purple and black, like Finn and Damian.

Buck grins. "I'm Buck, this is Chimney."

"Firefighters! So cool. I wanted to be one when I was a kid, pero it was only for, like, a month, just before that custody match. I'm Dom." The guy waves at someone behind Buck. "AY, MAMI! Get here, we got two hotties to chat with while they deal with the inside."

A young woman with insanely sculpted shoulders and back - Buck feels almost skinny next to her - walks over. Her eyes are heavily made up and her hair gelled down, making her look intimidating and extremely goth, but her tone is light and cheery. "Hey! Agnes got my makeup done in the parking lots instead. I hear Bob say we're just gonna start half an hour later." She waves hi to the two firefighters. "Rhea. Can't thank you guys enough for what you're doing, lots of fans traveled here for tonight and I'd hate to let them down."

"It's our duty," Chimney says. Then he adds, "Say, we don't have paper or pens on us, but is it cool if we do a group selfie?"

"Sure!" Dom is the first to whip out his phone. "Dames, your arm's the longest."

"World Heavyweight Champion and a glorified selfie stick, that's me alright," Damian grumbles good-naturedly.

Buck is thanking them when Chimney suddenly says, "Hey, Fergal, can you Too Sweet Buck?"

"What? What's that?" Buck is thoroughly bewildered. It sounds kinky, but Chim wouldn't suggest something inappropriate.

Chimney rolls his eyes. "How have you been dating Tommy and not watched any pro wrestling?"

Buck wants to retort that he and Tommy have better things to do, but realizes that he's literally with a bunch of pro wrestlers.

Fergal chuckles. He has really red lips, Buck notices, distracted momentarily.

"You just hold your hand up like this, touch the tip of your middle and ring finger to your thumb," Fergal explains, demonstrating. "Hold it here - okay."

Then Fergal does the same gesture with his left hand and touches their fingertips together, holding the pose long enough for Chimney to get a couple of photos on Dom's phone.

"I'm posting these to Instagram," Dom announces. "You want I should tag you both?"

"Sure!"

*

Tommy is staring at his phone when Buck gets home, but his head snaps up and he is totally starstruck.

"You were Too Sweeted by Fergal Devitt? What's he like? Is he more handsome in person?" Tommy asks in a rush.

Buck rolls his eyes fondly. "Nice to see you too, babe."

Tommy jumps off the couch and kisses Buck. "Sorry. Welcome home. Also, wow? The Judgment Day? And Fergal fucking Devitt?"

"Why? Is he a big deal?" Buck already knows - he spent the rest of his shift looking up the group he took selfies with and watching some of their matches.

"Only the founder of one of the most influential factions in all of pro wrestling?!" Tommy is practically squealing. "Tell me everything."

Buck has to laugh at his boyfriend fanboying hard. He pecks Tommy's cheek and taps the tip of his aquiline nose. "You are ridiculously cute. I gotta shower, and I'll tell you over dinner."

"At least tell me he's as pretty in person as in pictures," Tommy almost whines.

Buck smirks. He's also checked out their socials. "Oh, way prettier."

[lunas-nargle]

↳two

chapter two of “meddle about” series brian o���conner x reader

ii. ready, set, race

Y/n and Mia got out of the middle Toretto cousin's baby blue Subaru STI. Letty a few seconds later pulled up behind her, getting out of her car with swaying hips. 

The area around them was abandoned and completely full of racers and nice cars. The Toretto girls strutted off behind Letty towards the oldest Torretto cousin, who was talking to two hot blondes.

Letty walked closer to them, looking pretty pissed. "I smell." she sniffed the air. "Skanks." Y/n smiled amused, as she leaned against the hood of Letty's car with Mia. "Why don't you girls just pack it up, before I leave tread marks on your face?"

"Okay." One of the blondes said, looking annoyed. Both of the girls left as Dom said, "Letty, I was just talking--"

"Yeah, whatever." Letty spat, looking pissed off.

Dom didn't go after her, only started talking business, "Okay, Hector--"

Y/n looked around, her eyes falling upon one person in particular. She smirked as she saw Monty getting out of his white and blue Nissan S15. 

"Ahhh, look who it is, Mia." Y/n teased nodding towards the tall, blue eyed brunette. Mia's face turned hot upon seeing him. He glanced at her with a smile. Mia looked down at her feet bashfully before looking everywhere but at him.

Y/n felt a small nudge to her side, interrupting her people watching. 

"What?" she asked, looking over at Mia. She didn't respond, only nodded off to the side. Y/n followed her line of sight. Her eyes landed on Brian the Blond Beauty standing beside a lime green car, people watching as he leaned against his lime green Mitsubishi. 

Brian's eyes stopped onto her. She was now out of her work clothes, and confidently wearing a skimpy outfit that showed off her body in all the right places. Y/n smirked as he came closer to the group Dom was talking to. She looked back towards her cousin.

"One race, 2g buy in. Winner takes all." Dom said. "Hector, you're going to hold the cash."

"Why Hector?" Another racer asked, handing his money over to Hector.

"Cause he's too slow to make away with the money." Y/n smirked amused by her comment as she leaned her elbow on Mia's shoulder. People wooed and laughed, while he glared at her. Y/n winked at him as she remembered the race he challenged her to like it was yesterday. She won, smoking him till he was burnt out.

Hector rolled his eyes at her. Dom clapped Hector and Edwin on the shoulders and said, "Good luck, guys."

"Hey, wait. Hold up." the familiar voice of Brian said, coming in between Hector and Edwin. He held up a pick slip, clearing his throat. "I don't have any money, but I do have a pink slip to my car."

"Hey, you just can't climb in the ring with Ali 'cause you think you box." Jesse said.

Brian points towards Vince with a smirk, "He knows I can box." Y/n glanced towards Vince with an amused smile while Monty laughed outwardly with no shame, earning a swift nudge to the side. "So, check it out. It's like this. I lose, winner takes my car, clean and clear. But if I win, I take the cash and I take the respect."

The people remaining around them laughed. Dom smirked with a laugh, "Respect." he repeated.

Mia let out a chuckle as Y/n smiled at him in awe. She was surprised he actually had the balls to say that. "To some people that's more important." Brian continued.

"That your car?" Dom nodded towards his lime green 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse.

Y/n and the rest of the crew, plus a few other people, walked over to Brian's car. They popped the hood and saw a beautiful sight. People around them voiced their awe as Jesse listed off the things it had

"I see a cool air intake. It's got a NOS fogger system and a T4 turbo, Dominic." he said. "I see an AIC controller. It has direct port nitrous injection."

"Yeah. And a stand alone fuel management system." Dom said, standing behind Jesse. "Not a bad way to spend ten thousand dollars."

Edwin stepped towards the car, inspecting the car's insides. "You see that shit?" he said. "He's got enough NOS in there to blow himself up. Period."

"So what do you say?" Brian asked. "Am I worthy?"

"We don't know yet." Dom said, grinning. He pointed towards Brian "But you're in. Let's go."

Soon, the racers pulled their cars up to the starting line. Brian looked to his left to see Y/n standing by Letty and her cousin. She caught him looking, making her smirk and wave her fingers at him. He smiled and looked forward once again. He took a deep breath, trying to ready himself as much as he can. "You're gonna win." he said to himself. "I'm gonna win."

With Leon's call, Hector raised his arms. He paused for a moment as the engines roared.

Y/n attention was caught again by the sound of loud car engines. She smiled, ready for the race. Fire blew out from the tailpipes, making the crowd roar.

Hector's arms lowered as he said, "Go!" With that the cars sped off, their tires screeching making the crowd roar even louder.

Y/n was kind of disappointed that Brian didn't win the race, though it was covered up as she celebrated with her team.

"Here's what you want, right here." Hector said, his hands full of the money. "There you go." he slapped the money into Dom's hand with a grin.

"My sisters hold the money." Dom said, making Y/n smile with love. It wasn't unusual to call Y/n his sister. He has ever since they were little. "Count it." he continued, before picking Letty up by the waist. " And you're my trophy."

Dom put Letty back down on the ground just as Brian crossed the finish line. The blonde got out of his car, grinning as he made his way towards Dom.

"Was it fun?" Jesse asked sarcastically, as he started popping the hood of Dom's new car. People around them heckled and laughed as the car smoked. They cheered as Jesse opened the hood and more smoke blew out.

"What are you smiling about?" Dom asked in confusion upon seeing Brian's big bright grin. 

"Dude, I almost had you." Brian said, smiling widely, making the people around him cheer.

"You almost had me?" Dom replied, a smirk painted all over his face. "You never had me. You never had your car!"

"Ohhh!" the crowd roared. Brian's smile fell.

"Granny shifting, not double-clutchin' like you should." Dom continued, starting to circle the car. The crowd gave another loud roar. "You're lucky that hundred-shot of NOS didn't blow the welds on the intake. Almost had me? Now me and the mad scientist gotta rip apart the block and replace the piston rings you fried.

"You tell him, Dominic!" somebody shouted before another yelled, "Get outta here."

Brian looked towards Y/n, who gave him a small smile, as Dom continued to shred him. He put the hood down before he said, "Ask any racer, any real racer. It don't matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning's winning." The crowd roared with agreement. Dom soaked up the praise with his arms outstretched.

Suddenly, Leon started shouting that cops were on their way. Y/n's eyes widened before she pushed Mia towards her car. They climbed in quickly before they sped off. 

"What about Dom?" Mia asked, looking back.

"He'll be fine." she said. "He knows what he's doing more than we do." she then added in a mumble quietly, hoping Mia couldn't hear her. "Hopefully."

[asmutwriter]

Payment (Dean x F!Reader)

DESCRIPTION: After you get saved from a demon by Dean. You decide to repay him

A/N - In celebration of Deans birthday yesterday (I know I’m late but pretend I’m organised) 

WORD COUNT: 2921

One Shots / ‘You Saved Me’

WARNINGS: spiking, kidnapping, swearing, violecne, knives, guns, cleaning wounds, smut, dom Dean, sub reader, protected sex

DISCLAIMERS

- This was part of my ‘You Saved Me’ series however I wasn’t keen on how it fit with the characters so I have made it part of an ‘alternative reality’ version of the main characters from that story

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

TWO YEARS LATER

You’d just dropped Anna off at her pre-school. You’d been allowed full custody of her now, with a few requirements. Meeting the social worker once every two weeks. Seeing a therapist every week. All minor requirements so that you can look after your daughter. Another parent comes up to you as you open your car. She smiles at you as you get to your car. “Hey there. You’re new around here right?”

“Yeah. I mean no. We moved in a few years ago but this is the first week that Anna is starting pre-school” she nods

“It’s a bit scary when they first start right?” you nod and chuckle slightly “Mine have been here for a few years now. I’ve got three. It always seems that one leaves and another one joins” you nod and smile at her “do you want to come back to mine? It’s nice to have some friends that have kids about the same age” you look at her. Gently nodding “Cool. I’m about a five minute walk away so we can head there now” you nod. Locking your car back up before following her to her house.

Heading into her home. She places her house keys down in a small bowl on her windowsill. “Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee please” she heads into the kitchen as you follow her “You have a beautiful home”

“Thanks. My husband got it for me. Sorry, ex-husband” putting on the kettle “He bought it for me when we got a divorce. He said he wanted a nice home for the kids he just didn’t want to live with me anymore. And he’s filthy rich so I wasn’t going to turn down this place” you chuckle and nod “How about you? You got a husband or anything?”

“No. I’ve had on and off relationships with people. But none of them wanted to be a parent so they all left me. So it’s just me and Anna. It’s a shame though because I’ve always wanted another kid. Kind of hard to do when it’s just me”

“You could just lure a man into your bed for a night, get knocked up then boom you have a new baby” you nod and chuckle as she pours you both a drink. Handing you the mug

“I wouldn’t like to do that and not tell them. Seems unfair” she nods and sits at the dining room table. You follow her. Sitting next to her at the head of the table. You both engage in small talk as you both drink your drinks. “Where is your bathroom?” you ask after you finish your coffee. She points

“Second door” you nod and stand up. Then feeling the world start to turn black. You sit back down again, thinking you stood up to quickly. But nothing works. You look at her as she smiles, almost menacingly. 

“Wh-what did you d-do...?” you speech becoming slurred

“Just added a little something to your drink”

“You son of a bitch” she smiles. Watching as her eyes turn black as you pass out

You come to. A horrific headache. You go to move your hands but can’t against the restraints around them. Them above your head tied to some sort of beam. Feeling something in your mouth. A tie by the feel of it. Your eyes struggle to focus. You think you’re in a kitchen. Not the kitchen you were in when you passed out in though. This was a more old fashioned kitchen. With wooden beams adorning the room. That’s what you must be attached to. You hear a noise. A door opening. Then footsteps. The woman from the school appears. She smiles at you “I’m so sorry about this” she pulls down the gag “I’m not normally like that”

“A psycho?” she slaps you, causing you to laugh slightly. 

“I am not a psycho. I’m doing this for a greater power”

“What greater power would this be then, hmm?”

“None of your business” she pulls out a knife “This may pinch a bit” 

“You don’t have to do this”

“Yes I do” she pulls the gag back up into your mouth. She cuts open your shirt. Gently pushing the knife into your skin as she carves some sort of symbol into it. You shut your eyes, breathing through the pain of the metal. You feel her stop. Opening your eyes again you see her gently cutting her own hand. Dipping her fingers into the blood she draws on your forehead. Chanting words. You try and move away. A wall behind you making it difficult to. You see the knife begin to glow as she finishes talking. She smiles, picking the blade up. “Just know that your death will bring so much life to our children of the future” you shake your head, trying to pull the restraints. Then a knock at the door. She looks at you, then at the front door. She walks out the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. You hear talking. What sounds like a males voice talking to her. You look around. Trying to figure a way out of this. You hear a scream then a gun shot. You freeze. Looking at the door. Dreading what might be on the other side. It opens slowly. You try and move. Away from the restraints and the person walking into the room. 

A man walks in. Dean. You could cry tears of joy just from the sight. He points his gun around the room. Seeing you. He checks there’s no assailants before putting his gun in the back of his jeans. Walking over to you he pulls down your gag “Are you ok?”

“I’ve had better days” he pulls out a knife. Cutting the rope “Turns out being tied up and sliced open hurts” he chuckle slightly, helping you with the rope around your wrist. He takes his leather jacket off, placing it around your body as a way to help cover yourself up. You wrap it around yourself, wiping the blood from your forehead and wincing slightly at the pain in your chest. He helps hold you up as you start to sway slightly on your feet.

“What’s the time?”

“About midday” you nod. Rubbing your eyes before brushing his hands off of you and walking past him. Opening the front door and going outside. Yep, your fear happened. No idea where you were. This was not the house she originally brought you too. 

“I need a phone” you hold your hand out. Dean hands you his phone. You dial in a number. Jenny picking up

“Hello who is this?”

“Jenny! Hey it’s Rose”

“Rose? What are you doing?”

“I umm...” you look at the house you just came from “I ran into a bit of trouble. I got mugged. I’m ok. I’m just a bit shaken up and not really feeling in the right mind set to leave the house yet. Is there any chance you could pick up her up, please?”

“Oh my goodness Rose! Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine. Just a bit shaken up really. I’ll be ok I just don’t want her to see me in this state”

“Oh Rose I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to come round?”

“No. I’m ok thanks. I just need to be on my own for a bit. Going to have a bath and relax myself. But if you could pick her up from school that would be an absolute life saver”

“I’ll pick her up for you. Just ring me when you are back at home and I’ll come and drop her off for you”

“Thank you. I owe you one” you hang up. Passing the phone back to Dean. “I know you just saved my life and everything but any chance you could also give me a lift back home?”

“Sure” he smiles at you “Get in”. You get into the seat beside him as he starts driving

“She was a witch right? Or demon? Her eyes where black so I’m assuming a demon”

“I think a witch who was possessed by a demon. Using the demon to enhance her powers but feeding its appetite for blood with human sacrifices”

“Great” you look out the window “How did you find me?”

“I saw that a few woman had been going missing around the area. Bodies found with strange carvings in their chests. Figured it was something that was more supernaturally inclined. Found out who the witch was and where she lived and now here I am” you nod. Driving the rest of the way in silence, music playing softly in the background. You come up to your house. Pulling up out the front

“Thanks. Seriously. You saved me back there”

“It’s what I do” you gently pat his shoulder “Let me come up with you and tend to your wounds”

“Oh no I couldn-”

“I insist” he turns off the engine. Getting out the car and waiting for you to go up and open the front door. “Go wait in the kitchen” you nod. Going into the kitchen you grab out a beer. Opening the top you down the whole thing. Hoping it’ll help numb the pain of the wound of your chest. He comes back in. Bandages and sanitising stuff in hand. You steady yourself on the counter. Feeling him come up behind you and gently turn you around. You have your eyes shut. Trying to blank out the pain. The adrenaline leaving your body, leaving you with only sheer agony in your chest. He gently lifts you up onto the counter. Feeling him push apart his jacket and your shirt. “This is going to hurt” you nod. Opening your eyes slightly as you watch him clean up the wounds. Gripping onto the edge of the counter as he tends to your injuries. 

“Drink. Please” you motion at the fridge. He reaches across. Grabbing out a beer for you. You take it, opening the top and drinking it. He finishes cleaning you up. 

“I need to remove your shirt and stuff” you nod. Taking off his jacket and shirt. You pull the straps of your bra down from your shoulders. Leaving your bra still on but removing your arms from the straps. You lift your arms up as he places a medical pad onto the chest. Wrapping the bandage around you tightly. You shut your eyes from the pain. Feeling him trying to be so gentle with you. “Done” you hear him say. You put your arms down and open your eyes. Him tucking in the end of the bandage into the rest of it. Standing between your legs. You let out a sigh. Leaning forward and resting your head against his shoulder. You feel his arms go around you. Gently stroking the small of your back. You move away. His arms still around you as you look at him. Leaning forward you kiss him. A soft kiss against his lips. You feel his hands go to your hips. You take a hold of the waist band of his jeans. Pulling him forward. He pulls away slightly, avoiding eye contact with you “We shouldn’t”

“Why not? Shift you don’t have a girlfriend do you?” you cover your mouth slightly, embarrassed about what he might say next. He lets out a soft chuckle

“No. It’s not that. You’re hurt and I don’t know if this is the best thing for an injury”

“I’m fine” you put a hand up to his cheek, his eyes meeting yours “please? I just want to forget” his eyes move to your lips before he leans forward again. This kiss being more heated. You feel his hands go and stroke the sides of your thighs. He moves away. Removing his top half. He moves back towards you, smiling as you rake your fingers over his chest and stomach. He kisses you again as you undo his belt. You feel his hand go to the back of your head, pulling you into him as you undo his jeans. His other hand removing himself from them, hearing them drop to the floor. You undo the button of your jeans. His hands going to the top of them and pulling them down with your underwear. His thumb going and finding your clit easily. Pushing onto it, causing you to moan into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss. “N-need to feel you... Now... Pl-please Dean” he raises an eyebrow slightly

“You sure?” you nod. Pushing your hands through his hair as he pulls you forward. You hear him undo a condom packet as you play with the hair on the back of his neck. He spits into his hand, feeling him rub his saliva onto your cunt before he grab your hips, pulling you forward on the counter. Causing you to let out a small giggle as you kiss him. One hand staying on the back of his head. The other moving to his cheek, feeling his slight stubble hitting the palm of your hand. Then you feel him push into you. You whine into his mouth. The sudden stretch causing you to wiggle your hips in discomfort. He pushes your legs apart, allowing him to go deep inside of you. You whine, scrunching your eyes as you kiss him. Feeling him start to move in and out of you. The discomfort soon turning into pleasure. Your whines turning into soft moans. You tilt your head back. Moaning out as he picks up the pace. Moving both your hands to his shoulders. Gripping them for dear life as he fucks into you. Then he hits it. That sweet spot inside of you. Casing your toes to curl. 

“Holy shit!” you shut your eyes “please don’t stop. Please” you open your eyes again, his green orbs meeting yours. Blown out with lust as he continues his movements. You feel one of his hands move from your thigh to your pussy. Rubbing circles onto your clit. You thrust your hips in movement with his fingers. Feeling your orgasm start to build. You move your hand to his bicep. The other going to the back of his head. Gripping his hair as your nails dig into the flesh of his arm. Shutting your eyes. Feeling him kiss your neck as you put your head back. Soft grunts leaving his lips, tickling your throat. You pull him by his hair, planting your lips back onto his. Grinding your hips in a steady rhythm with his as you get closer and closer “Dean... G-gonna cum... Please?” he smiles, eyes meeting yours as he fucks into you harder and faster. Holding onto your hips as he fucks mercilessly into you

“You going to cum?” you nod, getting closer “you look so pretty. Fucked out from my cock” you whine at his words. Them adding to the pool between your legs. “Cum beautiful” he kisses you, pulling away as he watches your orgasm hit you. Nails digging into him. So hard you’re worried you might cut through the skin. You shut your eyes tightly, stars filling your vision as it hits you. Your legs shaking in his hands as he continues fucking into you, chasing his own high. You whine, hands holding both his biceps as he continues to work in you. Gently kissing your neck as you let out small moans and whines into his ear. “Fuck” he grunts out. Pushing into you. Moaning out as he chums. You feel him rest his hands on the counter top either side of you. His head resting gently on your shoulder. You able to put your legs around him. Hurting slightly from being pushed apart for so long. You kiss his shoulder as he rests against you. Keeping his weight up with his hands and you gently stroke his hair. Shutting your eyes you both bathe in the sex filled air. You both could’ve easily sat there all day you reckon. Sitting in the comfortable silence with each other. But then you hear his phone go off. You both sit still as it rings.

“Do you need to get that?” you whisper. He moves, grabbing his phone from his jacket. You wrap your arms round his neck, once again playing with his hair as he checks the caller. Flipping it open and putting it up to his ear. 

“Hello... yep... about six hours away... ok... yes sir” he hangs up. Putting the phone down on the side. “I have to go. It’s a work thing” you nod, removing your arms from around his neck. He pulls out of you, holding his hand out as he helps you off the counter. You both sort yourselves out. Making yourselves decent. 

“I’ll see you around?” you ask as you walk to the door. He nods

“Defiantly” he leans forward, taking your face between his hands and kissing you again.

“You don’t have to leave you know? You could stay here with me and Anna” he looks around your hallway. Half smiling to himself. 

“I know. But we both know I can’t” he drops his hands

“Well. Good luck on saving the world” you smile at him “I hope to see you again. Hopefully in less bloody circumstances” he chuckles slightly and nods. You watch as he gets to his car. Driving away you sigh. Going to your home phone and dialling in a number “Hey Jenny. I’ve just arrived at home. Could you drop Anna off please?”