#I JUST REALIZED I HAD FORGOTTEN HIMMM!!!

[crushribbons]

nsfw txt!

OMINIS GAUNT ——— who never thought of himself as a man particularly interested in the size of things. but ever since she bumped into him in the hall at work and he grabbed her waist to stop her from tripping and felt how small she was…shit. so tiny and fragile compared to his own height and clutching onto his coat sleeve, whispering a grateful “thank you, sir” as if he even worked in her department. now, it’s all he can think about: how tight and perfect she’d feel underneath him, taking his cock (that he was starting to think would be too big to fit) as deep as she could. when he fucked his own hand at night, he pictured it wrapped around her waist again, holding her in place while he pulled her ass back against his hips and soaked up her sweet little cries. “fuuck, lemme take care of you, you darling thing,” he begs in a whimper as he comes.

[tonaken]

here me out…virgin!nanami (yeah i got brainrot what abt it) cumming untouched, in public while he watched his friend (aka you) dance by yourself at a club you dragged him to *frantically hides*

ROOOO Virgin Nanami is such a wonderful ideaaa 😩😩 and when you put it on top of him lowkey having a crush on you and his stoic, emotionless persona ahhh It’s all just so sexyyy ugh I just wanna ruin himmm

Warnings → MDNI, NANAMI KENTO x fem!reader, virgin!Nanami obv, fantasizing, mentions of female masturbation, mentions of oral sex (fem receiving), mentions of nipple play, implied unprotected sex, cumming untouched and in public?? Idk, you're sexy af and Nanami feasts on that

W/c → 1.1 k words

Nanami pushes his glasses on the bridge of his nose, sharp eyes heavily ignoring the not-so-subtle stares. Scantily dressed people surround him in the hot room, and they all eye him with amused curiosity. He’s such a sore thumb, painfully sticking out even in the darkness of this ‘lewd establishment’ - his words, not yours - that you dragged him to. 

He stands there, arms folded and leaning against the wall with an austere frown that adds to his already intimidating aura. It does decrease when he takes off his tan suit jacket, toned forearms peeking out of his shirt’s sleeves. A few drunken women hit on him, drawn in by the smooth muscle that lines his upper body. 

It’s a short, one-sided conversation, really. They slur out jumbled words of praise, while he just stands there, unmoved by their flattery. It’s only when one of them openly expresses her lust that Nanami Kento, the Nanami Kento, doesn’t know how to react. 

He shouldn’t be here, to be fair. 

Damn you and your pleading eyes, begging him to accompany you to a place he would have never set foot in. Damn you and the hold you had on him, the only thing that convinced him to come. Damn you and that fucking dress, fabric hugging and folding, flowing and melting on your skin. 

The rowdy girls are a long forgotten memory now, all attention on you and that sinful body of yours. The colourful strobe lights flash on you, and it’s as if you were the only one on the dance floor. 

In the midst of the crowd, you’re Nanami’s only focus. 

The languid sway of your hips; the sultry, amused smile on your glossy lips; the careless abandonment of your head nods, in time with the dark bass of the music. 

And while his eyes skim your form, he forgets his feelings of inadequacy, his inexperience.

Fitted slacks become tight at a particularly smooth move of yours, your own hands running up your body. He closely observes how your fingers dip and curve around your breasts briefly, unfortunately, to then reach the base of your neck.

He can’t tear his gaze off your throat, canted backwards so beautifully while you get lost in the music. He doesn’t know why his mouth feels dry. He doesn't realize how labored his breath has become.

He briefly stops himself when his mind drifts to much more explicit thoughts. Maybe of you pleasuring yourself, head tilted backwards like now, your hands roaming your own body in the pursuit of sweet, sweet release. 

But the tightness becomes throbbing when you look at him across the room, low eyes painting a whole new image of you in his mind’s eye. It’s like you’re seducing him, like you know that the raging erection in his pants is there because of you.  

You have no mercy on him, putting more effort in your moves, fluid and gracious, yet salacious and tempting. It’s honestly because of the new, upbeat tune now on, but he doesn’t realize, or care to. To him, you’re pulling him in a dark pit, and he’s gladly following you. 

Even sitting down and crossing his legs in some secluded booth doesn’t help. If anything, the increased privacy fosters his hunger for you, balls tightening in need. 

His clothed cock drips in between his legs, but he can’t stop himself from having his imagination take over, all his logic and analytical thinking skills swallowed by the heavy air that surrounds him. 

If only, he thinks, you gave him access to you, he truly wouldn’t know what he’d do to himself. Pretty body all splayed for him to enjoy. Only for him.

He’d probably start by kissing you, to then soon put his mouth on your chest, greedily sucking your nipples in. Curiosity would then drive him down low, to finally have a taste of you, tongue safely nestled between your thighs.

He’s imagined the way you’d taste so, so many times, but it’s only now that he seems to feel it in his mouth, your figure just adding to the fire deep in his belly. 

But the way you’d wrap around him, holding him tight with your pussy makes him audibly moan, the sound drowned by the loud music. It’s only a dream, but what a fucking dream it is. Feeling your wet, velvet walls constrict his cock would probably send him to the grave. 

You’d be the first pussy he'd feel, the only one he’d need, the only one he wants. 

He likes to think that you’d be careless about his lack of sexual history, enjoying the moment regardless, creaming all over his cock like in those videos he sometimes indulges in. 

He tries to save himself from making a mess all over himself, but it all comes crashing down when your gaze catches him again, your smile now joining in making your face the sexiest he’s ever witnessed. 

He thinks about that same smile shot at him while your head’s lost in a million pillows, both of you tangled in the finest silk sheets of his bed. You’d giggle at him, probably for babbling how good you feel and how he’s about to cum. As contained as he is, he’d probably fall short in bed with you. 

Your hands would find his face as you both cum, together, he likes to think. Fingers would run through his hair in orgasmic abandon, eyes turning white and body stiffening. You’d choke his shaft, dick kicking and spasming inside you. 

He’d ask, no, beg you to fill you up, hips mercilessly meeting yours, muscles burning, skin achingly hot. You’d accept, you surely would. 

And as if to act out his fantasies, the front of his pants darkens, a damp patch shamelessly spreading. His hollow cheeks have turned pink and his large chest struggles to keep up with his racing heart, blonde strands tousled by his own sweat. 

It’s all a quick blur from then on, only embarrassment and a lie sticking out in his memory. Your sleepy voice thanking him for his company is where his mind picks up again. 

You call him a gentleman, and he definitely is, but he’d hate to admit that all he can focus on while you unlock your door is your ass. Or the way your messy hair just adds itself to the after sex imagery he has constructed in his mind. Or how he nurtures the flimsiest hope that you’d invite him upstairs. 

All in due time. 

Nanami Kento is a patient man, one to wait for his plans to unfold, to execute his projects. It’s all calculated, measured, pondered. And when he’ll get you, and that’s a promise, he knows he won’t let go. He could never. 

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✵Tags → @nanaminshousewife @gunnedrobin @hashiraswhore @butterfliesroses @berranurates @ochakoakabane @justcallmebc @mykuronekome @cirigiri @ofblckwriters

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[cyjprojectarchive]

blurry | bambam

prompt: inspired by bammie’s instagram selfie hot dayum could i not contain myself, so i made an imagine abt it B) here it is if ya wanna get attacked by our bamchinja. c;  group: GOT7 pairing: bambam, you genre: fluff words: 3185 note:  sorry theres so many spelling errors its currently 3:18 am and im tired as heq ill edit this tomorrow thanku ㅠㅠ

“Dude, you got this.”

“Yeah, well, what if I don’t? Our asses are on the line here,” Bambam’s worried tone reverberates from your phone’s speakers. You have it on loudspeaker mode because you were in the mood for some mint chocolate ice cream. You just got home from classes today and boy was it scorching hot outside. 

“Yes, you do. And no, they’re not. You’ve been practicing nonstop for this comeback, Bam, I think you have it all down by now,” you repeat a little louder than usual as you open the freezer and take out the pint of sweet and cooling treat. 

Setting it down on the kitchen counter, you cap the lid off and start digging in with your spoon. “And why are you so nervous? You’ve never asked me advice on how to handle stage fright ever since we knew each other,” you comment through the melting of your favorite dessert inside your mouth.

“Are you eating ice cream from the pint again?” He suddenly asks, a tone of amusement lingering in his voice. You automatically hug the thing of ice cream closer to your stomach, eyes peering at the phone resting near you. “How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch.” You can just hear him shrugging smugly.

“You wish you were here,” you retaliate, scoffing as you take another scoop. You make sure he captures the sound of you scraping the soft and gooey substance of sweetness. You know you should be encouraging him right now, but teasing the boy you’ve known for quite a while now is always a treat in its own way. 

“I do. I do wish I were there,” he agrees somewhat seriously. You’re unsure whether he was talking about having ice cream or something else, but you brush it off, not wanting to think about such complications right now. 

You put the spoon down and attempt to bring the previous conversation back. “Really, though, Bam. You’re going to do amazing, as always. Don’t worry too much about it, alright?” You tell him earnestly. If Bambam had never asked for any reassurances with you before, maybe this time he really needed it. 

A slight pause occupies the air until you hear him exhale shortly on the other end of the phone call. “You’re right, you’re right. That makes me feel so much better. Thanks, fam,” he answers with a hopeful tone. 

Shaking your head, you protest, “No problem. And don’t ever call me ‘fam’ again, fam.”

“Would you like to be called something else then, hmm?” There he goes, back to his usual zany self which you can’t help but blush about…

Did Bambam just make you blush? 

“I would like you to call me when I’m not busy enjoying my ice cream,” you tell him, going back to eating your lunch for the day. 

“You didn’t even start eating ice cream when I called you in the first place!” Bambam interjects and you soon chuckle at his predicament. You hear a few conversations bubbling up in the background, even recognizing Yugyeom’s whining to one of the hyungs, maybe Jinyoung, you’re not quite sure.

You move your position to the couch, setting down your phone on the coffee table. You hear a distinct voice referring to Bambam and he responds, but you’re too focused on your ice cream to eavesdrop. 

“I have to go in a few. What’re you going to do afterwards?” He finally addresses you. You ponder his question until you realize you’ve forgotten something really important. 

“Shoot! I have a major presentation for my History class tomorrow!” Spoon hanging in midair, you slowly place the ice cream pint next to your phone, feeling guilty of even opening it up. 

“And you haven’t started on it yet,” Bambam muses. You groan in agreement and slap your forehead lightly. “No, because I thought it was happening next week.”

“Too distracted with me, huh. I have that effect,” the boy on the other end suggests, a smirk almost evident in his voice. You laugh mockingly, but the anxiety in you keeps rising. “Guess I have something to keep me distracted while you’re performing,” you conclude, probably feeding his ego even more. 

“That’s good, then, at least it’s not another guy,” he jokes and you roll your eyes. “Whatever, snake,” you shoot back. 

“Anyway, I got to go, we’re shooting in a few,” he tells you, almost begrudgingly. “Hey, I really appreciate you answering the call.”

You smile at his genuine reply. You rarely see this side of Bambam whenever you guys are together, or even just talking on the phone. You feel a sense of warmth in your heart, and you honestly don’t know what to make out of it. But you don’t let it get to you- not yet.

“Of course. You know I’m here,” you mutter softly. 

“And me too,” he chimes. Another voice, presumably Jaebum, informs him about getting ready, so you anticipate Bambam’s good bye. “Now I really need to go. I’ll message as soon as possible.”

“For sure, Bam. Good luck! You never fail to do your best,” you add, making sure he’s still reassured. Bambam thanks you again, and the call ends.

Now, onto cramming that damned History presentation.

Adding a few finishing touches here and there, you finally have a decent 10-slide presentation for your class tomorrow morning. Stretching your arms upward, you let out a relieved sigh, yawning in the process. Making sure that the file has been saved to your laptop, Google Drive, and USB, you turn your laptop off and trudge your way into the comfort of your bed. 

The digital clock on your nightstand reads 11:24 pm and you feel quite proud for completing a procrastinated project before the day ends, roughly speaking. You ease your way into the duvet, grabbing your phone to the side for a late night session on a few of your social media accounts. 

You go to your Messages and remember Bambam’s call from earlier. You wonder whether the performance was a success- it probably was, and Bambam just had cold feet, but you already texted him two hours ago complaining about History being your worst subject ever and how lucky you are it’s your first class of the day. You type a new text, informing him of your success nonetheless and hoping he had a fun time today as well. 

Before you can hit the send button, a chat bubble appears on Bambam’s end first. Your eyes widen at the screen and your lips part in surprise. 

“What the…” You utter under your breath, hands suddenly sweating at the sight of your phone, Bambam’s selfie showing on the bright screen. You squint your eyes to confirm what you’re seeing is right. 

You hit backspace on your keyboard and type a new message with quick and shaking thumbs. 

Wrong number, headass. 

He reads it immediately and your heart skips a beat. Your eyes cannot seem to focus on anything else other than the blurry selfie of a jet black haired K-pop idol. You find yourself mesmerized at his cerulean contacts and drawn to the straight and full pink lips. Breath hitching, you mentally urge yourself to stop giving in to your thoughts. 

Undeniably, Bambam broke every puberty challenge out there, and not a day goes by without you reminding him that- much to his satisfaction. But you complimenting him was always out of good faith as good friends, nothing more and nothing less. 

However, recently, things have been a bit blurry between the two of you. It doesn’t help that his constant teasing makes you more conscious of the type of relationship you guys are slowly developing. 

And this selfie isn’t helping.

lmao what do you mean that is supposed to be sent to my best friend

You share a room with Yugyeom. Just show it to him in person lmao

not himmm, my OTHER best friend. u. anyway, like what u see? ;)

WTF are you talking about, you never send me selfies before??? 

aww is it that bad, b? :,( it’s just a lil smth to motivate u with ur presentation. hows that going for u, btw?

Again, with the weird ass nicknames, Bam lmao? And you’re just a few minutes too late bec I’ve finished, but thanks for trying.

Also, no, it actually looks really good. :)

pshhh u like itttt bb ;) oh, hey thats great. u should go 2 sleep by now.

and really? don’t play me, bb :,(

It does! Your face is blurred, so it’s perfect.

wow bye

You chuckle to yourself at the playful conversation. Typical Bambam, but you still can’t help but be confused at any underlying message of all this. Or maybe there’s not any and your mind is just running irrationally due from the emerging crash of the caffeine. Maybe that’s it.

You think of sending him a meme- of himself, might you add- until he follows a new text. 

blurred like our relationship, right

Dropping your phone to the side, you bring a pillow pushed to your face and scream into its plush surface. You feel the heat coming off of your cheeks, chest heaving in and out as well. What was that all about? Has Bambam been aware of the unusual tension you, yourself, have been feeling towards him the past couple of weeks? Why is he speaking up about it now?

that was stepping out of the line of being corny. i’m sorry lol

You notice that he was trying to play it off cool, but now that you’ve gotten a signal from him acknowledging the uncanny stage of your relationship right now, you wanted to go all out. With Bambam, you need to know whether he’s serious about this or not. 

You retreat the pilow away from your face, flustered at the suddent flight response you just pulled off. You certainly cannot be this embarrassing once you confront him, that’s for sure. But realizing you might have been absent for a while, you gingerly take a hold of your phone and type a new message with a plan. 

When are you free, Bam? 

You need to discuss this to him in person. You need to see it in Bambam’s eyes. You see the typing animation show on and off as he’s probably contemplating on what to say to you too.

i’m free for a few hours after our morning radio interview

Perfect. I’ll meet you at the cafe near my university at 12. Sounds good?

yeah yeah ofc 

Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bam.

you too. uhhh good night?

Good night to you too, Bambam. :)

“Headass, over here!”

A guy in stylish clothing, together with a black cap, black sunglasses, and black mask whips his head towards your direction. His tall stance and sense of fashion already singled him out from the lazily dressed college students surrounding the cafe right now, including yourself.

You end up sleeping three hours later after your conversation with Bambam, different scenarios of your meet up today forming in your head, some with good outcomes and others unspeakable. You couldn’t believe that you were able to set up a “date” with him with the intention of confessing the uncertainty you have in regards to affectionate feelings towards him. 

He walks over to the corner of the quaint little shop, a cold drink already in place before his seat. You don’t see his expression quite well, seeing that his whole face is covered with different kinds of masks, but you hear him chuckle as he relaxes in front of you, inspecting the drink shortly. 

“You know me too well,” he finally says, lowering the mask to his chin so he can take a sip of his favorite drink. You grin at your accomplishment, chugging the iced coffee you bought for yourself as to keep your nerves from taking over you- which was ironic since you’re gulping down more of what keeps you shaking right now.

“How was the interview?” You ask nonchalantly, watching his every move. Bambam glances up at you and nods his head, “It went really well. More enjoyable than your presentation, that I could say.”

Glaring daggers at him you counter, “Shut up.” He cackles at your response, and then the two of you instinctively easing into your normal conversations of mundane stories and brutal banters, almost forgetting about the original reason of you meeting him here.

But you didn’t mind, not one bit. You missed his physical presence. Just seeing a hint of his crinkling eyes from the shade of his visor is enough for you to feel comfortable around Bambam. He genuinely is the best person you know. You both never have to think twice about saying something potentially wrong, because the other would just use it at their advantage but at the same time turn it into an inside joke between the two of you. 

There was something that he declared which made you stomp your hand down the table in rejection. He chortles at your dramatic expression and casually lays his hand on top of yours. Your face quickly realizes this as you retrieve your hand back to your sides, squeezing it tight to stop it from trembling at the sudden contact. 

Bambam notices your discomfort and coughs awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry. I ruined it, didn’t I?” He admits, looking down in frustration.

“No, no, Bam it’s not that,” your attempt in fixing the matter at hand was futile, and you wish you have more time to stall, more time to just have mindless fun with the best guy friend you’ve ever had in a while. 

But seeing that your stomach churned and jumped in itself after a simple touch of your hand, you had to tell him how he’s made you feel. Or else you’re going to go nuts.

“What are we, Bambam?” You blurt out, eyes fixating on the empty cup of beverage sitting idly on the table. “And don’t make it out as a meme, ‘kay? I’m asking it seriously,” you follow up with a scrunched face, making sure that Bambam knows you’re done with fooling around. 

You peek at his face and he seems to be smiling shyly, hand that was once touching yours now scratching the back of his head. You find yourself wishing you never took it back. 

Shaking your head, you whine at your inner frustration. “I… I think I like you, Bam. And I don’t know why I’m saying this now but recently, you’ve been saying weird stuff to me that gets me all flustered and red and you can’t see that because we haven’t seen each other in a while, but when we do I try to suppress it just because I don’t you to think I’m weird or something like that but our conversation last night messed me up big time, and now I don’t know if suppressing it is going to help anymore and I just -”

You stop yourself from losing air in your system as you inhale and exhale. Your hands have been clutching themselves tightly on your lap and you let go to feel the blood pumping again. You’re afraid to look up and see a confused Bambam staring at you, but before you can contemplate any further, you hear a soft laughter resonating from him. And it wasn’t that of mockery, so you slowly turn your head to reveal a blushing adolescent boy before you, hands covering his eyes under a pair of expensive sunglasses.

 “Aw man, you beat me to it. Why do you always do that to me?” He complains cutely. You titl your head in confusion. 

“I was supposed to confess first. Do you know how ashamed I feel right now?” He takes his hands off his eyes as well as his sunglasses and you finally see his eyes. Glistening in hope and anxiety all at the same time, but the beauty in them never left. You are taken aback, but you try and keep it together as he gulps down and stares right back at you. 

“You always beat me to things, but that doesn’t mean I won’t confess anymore. Yes, I’ve been trying to get your attention more frequently because I’ve… developed feelings for you, and I didn’t know how to handle them other than be more annoying than usual.” His assessment of the situation makes you giggle, and it prompted him to keep going. 

“I was really happy I got to talk to you when I was feeling hella nervous yesterday. It made me confirm my feelings for you and that you make me comfortable in whatever situation we’re in. The selfie I sent you last night was just me trying to see if you kind of feel the same way, and I honestly didn’t know what to expect from there.” He brings his hands on the table and plays with them mindlessly, biting his lip as he looks down. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel frustrated by the way I’ve acted, I’m just a dumb adolescent boy who doesn’t know how to handle his feelings well. But I was honestly really glad we got to hang out today, you know I missed you a lot. So, I’m sorry if this ruins everything…” he trails off, seeming to want to say more but his tongue prevents him from doing so.

You keep your eyes on him, not exactly knowing how to respond correctly. He gives you a full minute to contemplate on your own before he looks back up at you, pausing with his hands and smiling sheepishly. “Any response from you would be great right now.”

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” you say, lips in a tight line. You think for another few seconds before finally making up your mind. “C’mon, let’s take a selfie.”

“W-what?”

“C’mon, Bam. You have a better camera than mine, so go get your phone!” Your tone was firm but encouraging at the same time. He hesitates for a second but complies nonetheless. You scoot next to him, your arm slightly touching with his. You falter a bit, but you feel Bambam relax with your touch and you smile as you move in a tiny bit closer.

He positions the phone at the perfect angle and you see him trying out a few different expression before his thumb presses over the button. Your smile grows wider at the sight of him assessing himself, but you quickly peck the soft surface of his cheek and beat him to taking the selfie. 

Without waiting for his response, you snatch the phone away and inspect the picture. Content with the image, you show him the screen. 

He looks at with his eyebrows furrowed, but immediately understands and reveals a goofy grin. You nudge his elbow playfully before resting your head on your shoulder, already feeling at ease with your position.

“Not so blurry now, huh?” You ask him. He pats your head in response and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, the touch of him making you want more.

 But for now, this is enough.