#I need to just watch it over and over again

[ilium-ilia]

Chaînés

ballerina reader x gym-rat soap

It's hard for Johnny to focus at the gym when there's a ballerina spinning in a box just for him.

tags: johnny "came back wrong" mactavish, light stalking, non-consensual pictures/drawings, johnny is not mentally sound, references to johnny being shot, choke holds, abduction.

a/n: i keep having dreams about being back in ballet and being forced to dance so i this is my attempt of getting that dream to stop.

There is a new room in the gym. It stares through Johnny like baptism water in the church he attended when he was a child. It burns just as bad as the hellfire his pastor promised would befall him if he couldn’t tell the difference between good and evil. 

He’s watched its construction for the last handful of weeks. Incessant drilling and the cacophonous melody of power tools has made his evenings pumping iron less than pleasant, and his ears ache from how far he has to shove his earbuds into the canal to drown out the noise. The only reason he started coming here was because of his sleeping issues—how his body seems too high strung to relax when the moon rises—and it’s been disrupted by inconsiderate construction workers. Now, every bastard in a high-vis vest has vanished, leaving him alone with nothing but the bar clasped in his palms and the lingering sillage of sawdust. 

For a few more weeks, the room stands empty. It’s nothing special. Nothing that he believes should harbor more of his attention than has already been stolen. Floor to ceiling glass windows offer little privacy for the pinewood floors and dazzling mirrors that line the walls. It is an abandoned box. It haunts the gym with no heart to hold. 

When no one is looking, he wanders through the unlocked door. He is met with only the sound of his running shoes echoing off of the pristine floor and the never-ending image of himself pasted upon the walls. He sees himself from every angle. From the side, like a bystander. From above, like an omniscient god. It only gets worse when the automatic lights trip and flicker to life, buzzing like the dying breath of an animal caught in the constricting ribcage of fear. 

Johnny stares at himself as if he were a stranger. He scrutinizes the tattoo on his forearm and the stretch of his compression shorts over his thighs. Angry fingernails dig into the pink keloid by his temple. His skin buzzes at the bump. Hair follicles attempt to press through the scar tissue, but it follows the old fracturing of his skull. It dies in a star pattern that leaves him naked—a warrior without a weapon. 

As his feet cross the threshold back into the weight room, Johnny promises himself he will never traverse back into that box again. 

On Monday, the room is full. 

Women clad in elastic garments sprawl out on the floor on multicolored mats as they stretch. Their appearance stops Johnny in his tracks, leaving him to stare through the thin window that separates them apart. Yoga, he realizes. The awkward positions and instructor towards the front has his skin squirming within its own confines. There are too many eyes. They echo through the mirror—they all find him. 

Deciding to spend his evening on the other side of the gym, Johnny starts off with cardio. It’s the only way he can satiate the need to flee from wandering gazes without actually vanishing. It’s the only way he can drown out the solicitude that lurks too deep for him to reach in and claw it out. 

Peeved that he has to now change his whole routine, Johnny grumples through the night as he packs up his water bottle and slugs towards the exit. As his feet tread, he reminds himself to request the class schedule for the room from the front desk. He wants to avoid the eyes. The gazes. The pupils that pierce through him worse than a bullet. 

Johnny freezes when he sees something spinning. 

There, through the thin veil, you dance. Rhythmic and fluid. Like a babbling river. Like blood dribbling from a wound. Propped up en pointe, you pirouette with your arms above your head and your head snapping in spinning circles, eyes keeping contact with yourself through the mirror. He witnesses the way your chest expands with a huff—how you refuse to rest before attempting the move again. 

You see him in the mirror. Standing behind you, pack slung over his shoulder as if it were heavy enough to be a rifle. He sees you see him. 

Ignoring him as if he is nothing more than a trick of the light, you continue with your practice. 

Johnny can’t sleep at night. The image of you burns too deeply into his retinas, and he can’t shake you loose. You’re lodged in his psyche. Trapped deep in the tissue of his brain where you nettle—making space for yourself. A bed of brain matter. He envelopes you too readily. His body holds you home and it screeches whenever he attempts to yank you out like a weed from the earth. 

So you spin. 

And spin. 

The next time he goes to the gym, he brings his sketchbook. 

Really, he’s not sure why he lugs the thing around. The only thing it’s full of is pain—bleeding ink that soaks each page like blood on cement. That book harbors the residue of each gun he’s shot and the soil of every country his boots have kissed. It holds the memories of the places he can’t return to. The man he used to be before he was fractured beyond repair. 

Now, he uses it to record you. Committing your image with his pencil, he sits on the bench press closest to the window as you practice again while the night waxes away from the evening. He sketches the curve of your pointe shoes, the delicacy of your fingers as you hold your arms out on either side of your torso—you’re printed onto paper as you present an arabesque with trembling calves and quads. 

Throughout it all, you do not recognize him in the mirror behind you. You give him no hint that you are aware of his presence besides a quiet flickering of your eyes in the reflective surface before you continue to glissade across glistening floors.

It isn’t until the second week of this—of this new routine Johnny has found himself in—that he realizes he never sees you enter or exit the room. 

You’re always there, appearing out of thin air the moment the area is vacated by the yoga class or anyone else who wishes to lurk within those four, painful walls. He blinks, and you’re there, dancing through the windows like a collector’s doll stuck in the confines of her box for all of eternity. Never to be embraced. Never to be loved. Only made to be gawked at while chained down by your hands and wrists, unforgiving zip ties digging into your skin like a honed edge. 

It’s then that Johnny begins to question if he’s seeing things again. Factitious things. After he was discharged (bullet buzz, buzz, buzzing through his skull, cold cement on his cheek, blood, drip, drip, dripping from his teeth), it was troubling to differentiate between what was real, and what was fabricated. Thoughts bleeding into reality—a clear ichor that only morphs his vision, but doesn’t obscure it. 

At home, his fingers brush over his artwork. Tenderly, as if he’s pasted your very flesh onto each page. He tells himself that you have to be real. The proof of it is in his very hands—it’s tangible. This book that holds your likeness. It would be impossible for his disconnected mind to dream up something as lovely as you. There is no morphing here. No shadows twist to contort and confuse his mind. 

He’s sure of it—

—until he isn’t. 

Once more, his sweet ballerina has come to perform for him—to haunt him. You spin before him like a music box doll, steady and without a care for the eyes piercing through the window to look at you. There is not a single soul in the building besides you and him. (If you even have a soul at all). The barrier that separates the two of you seems thinner than ever as he puts pencil to paper and inscribes your likeness as if he fears his mind might forget if there is no physical reminder to follow him home.

He soaks up the view of your feet. The way the arch curves beneath your body weight. The way sweat beads along your collarbones and the line of your forehead. He wonders if the brine is as tasty as it looks. 

When you stop to catch your breath, your eyes find Johnny in the mirror. Sitting, hunched forward on the bench, scribbling down in his journal. His heart ceases to beat, and the tip of his pencil stills against his paper as he straightens himself up. He would open his mouth to speak if it weren’t for the insufferable barrier that separates the two of you—keeping you confined to your own little worlds. Instead, he smiles. 

You stare right through him. 

You do not smile back. 

Johnny is incensed when you continue your routine. You leap through the air without a care in the world, and you leave him sitting there to wonder if you ever even saw him at all. No, you did. When he reaches up and touches his chest, he feels his shirt. He feels the blood pulsing beneath his fingertips. His hand presses forward and it doesn’t punch through his sternum because he’s real. 

He’s real. 

But are you real? Or are you some creature sent to torment him within the confines of his own mind? 

Slamming his journal shut, Johnny tosses it into his bag with a huff. Hot air passes from his nostrils like a bull ready to charge, and he struts up to the glass, so close that his nose nearly presses against it. Fog builds on the surface as his palm lies flat against it. It’s frigid to the touch. Standing, separating. The barrier that traps you is real and algid beneath his fingers. 

But are you real?

Metal bites into his skin as he twists the knob on the door to the room. He promised himself that he would never step foot in there again—where the eyes are plenty and his scar screams louder than he can—but he tells himself he has to know. It clicks quietly shut behind him only to be drowned out by the sound of your pointe shoes tapping against the pine at your feet. It echoes like a hushed prayer. It rattles his eardrum. Tangible. Real. 

But are you real?

Feverish skin bleeds through his hand when he grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Wild eyes look to him, and for the first time he’s able to see what they’re like without the barrier of a reflection to get in the way. Sweet lips part and he sees the way your teeth shine beneath the fluorescent lights that hang over your heads. 

“Excuse me?” 

Bitter. Sharp. Your question pierces through his eardrum and he smiles. Your voice. An alluring melody. His grip only grows more firm as you attempt to wrench yourself free from his grasp. 

Real. 

Your screams are just as corporeal as the rest of you. It reverberates off the walls of Johnny’s skull, and it forces his face to contort at the throb in his brain. Oh, how it aches. How it always aches. He muffles you with the palm of his hand flat against your lips and he presses until he feels your tongue. Rigid nails dig into his flesh as his forearm wraps around your throat and squeezes. He feels the sting of broken skin—real—and the pressure of dull teeth against his fingers—real—and hot tears along the back of his hand—real. 

It isn’t long before your body grows heavy. Johnny lays you on the floor like Ophelia in a river; Odette in the lake; Aurora in her bed. Limp limbs lie helplessly as he stares down at you and rakes trembling fingers over every inch of your body. Every curve he has committed to memory for the last few weeks is now here before him—tangible. 

“Real,” he says outloud. A tender thumb brushes against your split bottom lip. “You’re real. And I’m real. I made you real.” 

Johnny sleeps better now that he’s started going to the gym. Muscles melt just as they should the very moment his head hits his pillow, and his slumber calls to him without issue. Of course, it helps that he has his sweet ballerina to keep him company. Head propped up next to his, tear stains on your cheeks, and eyes squeezed tight as you rest soundly in his bed.

He reaches out and cups your cheek in the palm of his hand. Your skin twitches beneath him, but you do not stir. Grinning in the darkness of his bedroom, Johnny hums, content with his life. Content with knowing that you truly are real. 

After all, the proof of it is in his very hands. 

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[icaruspendragon]

in order to be “jest like yer deddy” (the redneck father’s daughter), one must grow up glued to their father’s side.

my father was a redneck and i was glued to his side. which means i’ve done a whole lotta redneck bull hockey and tom foolery in the name of spending time with dear old dad.

i spent a lot of my october and november weekends sitting on an upturned five gallon bucket watching my breath fog while waiting for the sun to come up so i’d have enough light to read whatever book my dad bought me to keep me quiet.

and he needed me to be quiet because he was dove hunting and i was seldom ever not in his line of sight, so i’d tag along and he’d indulge me and buy me stories even though i had no interest in the hunt.

i’m sure there’s an irony in my loving my dad so much i’d sit in the cold just to watch him kill things, but that’s not the point of this.

anyway. the sun would come up, i’d be placed a good ten feet behind all these men and their guns, my dad would make sure my earplugs were secure and my nose wasn’t too cold, and then they’d open fire.

once a bird was shot, they’d go and get it. i can’t remember what they did with them. that part doesn’t matter.

but what i do remember is after the safeties were on and the shotgun barrels were pointed skyward, my dad would “let” me run out and get the birds for him.

i say “let” because when i was a kid i thought bird fetching was a very important and serious job.

he died a few months ago and our relationship got complicated in the way they’re bound to do when daughters realize pain is something they inherit from their fathers.

when i was writing his eulogy i was thinking of happy childhood thoughts and i remembered the “hunting trips.” and how big and important i felt being the one who went to get the birds.

he’d shoot. i’d fetch. he’d tell me to sit. and we’d do it over and over and over again. and that’s when the revelation came.

i was the fucking bird dog.

[baby-yongbok]

Simp

Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre - Smut [MDNI] - Friends to Lovers

✦ Word Count - 3.5k

✦ Summary - What started as a new tattoo and playful teasing unravels into breathless confessions and desperate touches. All because of a haircut. ✦ CW - amateur tattooing (please get inked safely), dry humping ✦A/N - I'm late to the 'blonde buzzcut Hyunjin' fic party ... please accept this as an offering. No but seriously, I meant to post this weeks ago...

✦ Masterlist✦

 “Are we seriously doing this?” There's a moment of silence and you giggle. “Hyunjin, seriously?”

Your best friend turns to you, his face lit up with a mischievous grin, the newly purchased cheap tattoo gun gleaming in his hand. 

“Yeah, we're doing this. Unless you secretly hate me and don't want a reminder of our friendship etched onto your skin for eternity,” He teases, feigning disappointment with a dramatic sigh as he settles onto the stool behind you

You roll your eyes with playful exasperation, leaning over the small sink of his modest bathroom and catch his eye in the mirror.

“Shut up, don't fuck it up.” You retort, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. He chuckles, gently pushing your shorts up a bit to reveal the bare skin of your thigh to get a better look at the spot you want the ink to go. 

“On your upper thigh, right?” He confirms, his voice steady and focused. You hum in agreement, watching him carefully through the mirror

“Gonna need…” He murmurs, his voice a mix of mischief and focus as he slips two fingers into the diamond of your fishnets, carefully ripping a hole. “More space. That should do it.”

“Hyunjin! What the hell.” You gasp, a mix of annoyance and amusement in your tone as you kick your foot back at him. “I just bought these.”

“They would've gotten ripped in a week anyway, don't cry about it, baby. Bend over,” He coaxes, a playful glint in his eyes. You roll your eyes with a reluctant smile but comply. “Now stay still.”

He slips on some gloves, his fingers brushing against your skin for just a second before he turns on the gun, and dips it into the black ink. Hyunjin has drawn portraits of you, painted your body, and adorned your skin with beautiful temporary prints for months, but this is different. This is forever.

Hyunjin positions himself, his gaze meeting yours through the mirror, a silent exchange of trust before he begins. The pen touches your skin, and you inhale sharply at the sharp sting of the needle, a thrill running down your spine.

“Fuck.” You hiss and Hyunjin chuckles. 

“Feels good doesn't it? Fucking freak.” He taunts in a low concentrated tone as he moves the pen over your skin. 

You bite back a smile, refusing to admit he's right, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you close your eyes, trying to keep as still as possible as the minutes roll by.

“It's almost done,” Hyunjin murmurs, dipping the needle in more ink. “I think this is becoming my favorite pastime.”

“Yeah? Gonna be a tattoo artist now? Quit your day job at Arby's?” You tease and Hyunjin laughs, pulling the pen away before it touches your skin again, his head thrown back in amusement.

“Oh, fuck you.” He chuckles, smiling so wide his eyes turn into glimmering crescents. “I don't want to be a tattoo artist. I just like tattooing you.”

He returns the pen to your skin, and you take a steadying breath. 

“Why me?” You watch him through the mirror.

“I enjoy seeing my art on you. Hearing your breath catch under the needle. You know, typical best friend stuff.”

“Simp.” He lays a playful smack on your ass. “Rude” You scoff. 

“I'm a simp because I call my best friend pretty?” He wipes away the excess ink. “Isn't that something you should like?”

“Nuh uh,” You hum, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “You're a simp because you want me so much it almost hurts, doesn't it?”

Hyunjin chuckles, turning off the tattoo gun. 

“Oh yes, I want my hand down your pants right now.” He mocks, spraying the area with saline and wiping it. “Look at it.”

You chuckle and stand straight. He watches as you turn to the side, rising on your tiptoes to admire the ink.

“Okay, that's beautiful.” You admit, studying the fine line rose tattoo. It's simple, a bit messy, and absolutely perfect. “I want another one.”

“Are you getting off on this?” He raises a playful eyebrow from where he's seated and you push his shoulder. 

“Whatever… Let me give you one now. The same rose.” His eyebrow raise turns from playful to questioning. 

“I'm not so sure about that.” You scoff and step closer to him while he’s distracted with cleaning up all that he used. You run your hand over his fresh blonde cut, aggressively grazing the pads of your fingers along his scalp. 

“Let me, c’mon. It can be the way you pay me back for chopping off all of your hair last night and not calling me.” You obnoxiously run your fingers over his scalp and he groans. 

“It’s called a surprise, if you hate it just tell me.” He sets the tattoo gun aside and turns to look up at you. “Am I ugly or something?” 

“Yup, sure are.” You tease and he feigns offense. “You look like a kiwi. A sour kiwi who doesn’t call their best friend when they make drastic changes.” Hyunjin groans and turns his body to face you. 

“You are more dramatic than me at this point. I’m sorry, okay? Okay?” He pokes your side, grabbing your hip and tickling you. You gasp a laugh and try to escape but his grip is too strong. 

“Nope, nah, can’t run away.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Tell me that you love my haircut.” 

You squeal a laugh, fighting against him but he has the upper hand even as he sits on the stool in front of you. “I hate it, it’s ugly!” He laughs when you do, knowing that your insults are baseless. He continues his assault, arguing with you until you concede.

“Fine! It’s nice, it’s hot. You’re hot!” He stops, laughing a bit as you give in, but something shifts.

“Simp.” He teases, pulling you into his lap to sit down and catch your breath. He wraps his arm around your waist, panting a bit himself. Your words settle in his mind. He replays it a couple times per second, trying to decipher if you said it just to get him to stop or if there’s something more to it. 

He could be reaching too far. He could be looking too deeply, but something is telling him that he’s not. “Do you mean that?”

The now soft tone of his voice catches you more than the question does. “Huh?” Your gazes meet and you blink at him, caught off guard. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he asks again, slower this time.

“Do you mean that? Do you think I’m hot?” Hyunjin’s curious gaze has you locked, feeling almost pinned or exposed by the question. Your mind kicks into high gear, trying to figure out why that matters to him. 

“Why are you asking me that? I compliment you all the time.”

“You never call me hot. Never.” 

His tone is soft but firm and there’s something about the way he says it, like he’s realizing something in real time. He licks over his lips again as his eyes search yours with that look. You know that look. It’s the same one he gives when he’s figured something out. 

“Is that a big deal?” You feign nonchalance and shrug but Hyunjin can see right through you. He’s known you for too long, studied your every expression and move. He can see through the act. 

“The haircut looks good… that’s all.”

“Don’t play coy.” His voice drops, softer now, and the shift is instant. His gaze is intense, unwavering, so you look away - but he won’t let you. His thumb presses gently against your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

“You’re delusional.” You joke, forcing out a dry chuckle. But Hyunjin only smiles. “You’re my friend and yeah, you’re hot. You think I’m hot too.”

“I do,” He agrees easily “But that’s hardly friendly. You just haven’t noticed it yet.” There’s a pause, The air shifts into something thick and heavy and for a moment neither of you say a word. You share a gaze, trying to detect any discomfort or dishonesty. Regret or hesitation, anything.

“Fuck you,” Your voice is softer now, uncertain. “Don’t fuck around like that.” 

“I’m not fucking around, baby.” 

That nickname shouldn’t do anything - it never has before - or maybe that’s a lie. Maybe you’ve gotten good at controlling the way it makes you feel when it slips from his lips like he made the word just for you. Like you’re the only person who comes to mind when he puts the letters together in his head. You’re not supposed to feel anything but this time, it sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t stop it. 

His fingers flex slightly on your thigh, the warmth of his touch making your inhale stutter. “How do you mean it?” His voice is impossibly low now, but somehow not a whisper. “Do you mean that I’m hot in a friendly way?”

“I just mean it.” He tsks, tilting his head with a small smile. 

“That is not an answer.” His thumb starts tracing slow, lazy circles into your thigh and it’s almost distracting enough to make you forget to hold your guard. Almost. 

“You can either give me an answer,” He murmurs, “or I can test my theory… you pick.”

You meet his eyes again - really meet them - and for the first time, his gaze isn’t sharp, it isn’t teasing. It’s soft, searching, like he’s waiting for you to show yourself to him. Waiting for you to give him something. Something real.

It’s genuine. It’s Hyunjin.

“What’s your theory?” 

Hyunjin inhales slowly, like he’s choosing his next words carefully. His gaze doesn’t waver. “My theory is that you mean it in more than a friendly way.” His tone is sure, confident. “Cause if you didn’t, you would’ve gotten up and left. You would’ve hit me, you would’ve teased me, you would do something to prove me wrong, but you didn’t.”

His fingers dig into the skin of your thigh just a bit. “You’re still here, sitting on my lap and I think…”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes flicker to yours - just for a second, but long enough that you feel the heat of his attention. “I think that if I kissed you right now, you’d let me. I think that you’d want me to… because you do think I’m hot in the same way that I find you hot.”

You don’t move. You don’t speak.

Because he’s right.

Hyunjin takes his time as he reaches for you, fingers catching your chin between his thumb and pointer, keeping you still. His eyes are searching yours, he’s gauging your reaction as he gets closer, reading every tiny shift.

The space between you disappears slowly, intentionally. The only sound in the room is the uneven rhythm of your breaths mixing with his own. 

And for a brief moment, he thinks about how perfect you sound together. You always have.

“So…” He whispers, voice trailing off as his lips hover just inches from yours. You sigh softly, and his eyes flicker down to catch the way your breath fans over his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

It’s still. Silent.

He doesn’t take it back. Doesn’t rush you. He waits - waits for you like this moment is worth everything. And then, finally, he hears it - your breath hitching, your lips parting just slightly before you give him an answer.  

“Please kiss me.” 

Hyunjin exhales sharply, his breath catching in his chest. And then he smiles - just barely, just enough to make you think he’s being smug. But in reality, he’s relieved.

“Thank god.” 

The words barely leave his lips before he closes the gap, pressing into you with a tenderness you didn’t expect. His lips move against yours slowly, deliberately, like he’s been waiting for this - savoring it, memorizing it. 

And the truth is, he has.

Hyunjin hums against your lips, the sound vibrating between you, sending a shiver down your spine. The hand that had been drawing soothing circles on your thigh is no longer gentle - it grips you now, grounding him just as much as it anchors you. But you’re no better. Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, while your other hand smoothes over his soft blonde hair. 

His touch shifts, fingertips trailing from your chin to cup your cheek, his thumb brushes over your skin in a way that makes your breath stutter. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss with an ease that makes you wonder how long he’s been thinking about this. Then, his tongue sweeps over your lips - gentle, requesting - and you give in without hesitation, a quiet, dizzy hum escaping you. 

He’s everything you ever imagined him to be and more. There’s a tenderness in the way he kisses you, something unhurried and careful, but beneath it, there's heat. A slow, burning kind of hunger that’s been simmering for longer than either of you are willing to admit. 

And you meant it. He’s hot. He always has been. You’d say it again if he asked. 

His tongue slides against yours with growing urgency, a slow, intoxicating hunger that has been locked away and hidden behind years of calling yourselves best friends. But now, by some miracle, you’re giving in and Hyunjin hums when he realizes he finally has a chance. 

He has a chance to have you.

A chance to be more than just your best friend. Because he doesn’t just want to be close to you - he wants to be your everything. 

Hyunjin hums again, reluctant as he starts to pull away. It’s an attempt at keeping his control, at being a gentleman. But just as he’s about to break the kiss completely, he indulges in one last, slow lick into your mouth.

And you moan. You fucking moan.

A quiet, breathy sound that you barely register making - but he does. 

His eyebrows draw together instantly. His breath hitching, and before he can stop himself, he lets out a sound of his own - a low desperate noise that he didn’t mean to give away.

“Don’t do that.” He murmurs against your lips, voice rough, breathless. “You have no business sounding that pretty. You have no clue… what that just did to me.”

His forehead presses against yours, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to collect himself. But you can feel it, all of it - all of him.

“I can feel exactly what that did to you.” You whisper, shifting just slightly in his lap and his fingers dig into your thigh.

“Baby.” His voice is dangerously low, his half-lidded eyes locking onto yours. “You are asking for more than I planned to give you.” 

That should be your warning. That should be enough to tell you to stop.

But it isn’t.

You’ve never been able to resist teasing him, and you’re not about to start now. So you do it again - just the smallest shift of your hips, the subtlest press against him. 

And that’s all it takes.

Hyunjin’s grip tightens, his lips parting as he sucks in a sharp breath. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and you can see it now - the way his restraint is slipping. The way his neck flushes, red and hot, betraying just how quickly he’s unraveling. 

“I asked you not to, didn’t I?” His voice is softer now, but there’s a rawness underneath it. His fingers are firm on your hips, his control hanging by a thread. “Tell me if you want me to stop right now. Tell me.” 

You shake your head before you can even think about it - too fast, too eager - but there’s no room for hesitation anymore. 

“Don’t.” You whisper back and that’s all he needs.

Hyunjin exhales sharply, leaning back against the wall, his hands sliding up your spine as he pulls you so close you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.

“I won’t.” He whispers back a promise, his lips brushing over yours before sealing you into another dizzying kiss.

“I won’t stop,” He breathes, voice warm and sure. “Just ask, and I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

Hyunjin’s hips jerk up instinctively the moment his lips crash against yours, and you both let out matching, breathless moans. The friction sends a shockwave through you, making your body act on its own accord - your hips chasing his, rolling down to meet every movement with one of equal desperation.

His fingers dig into your thighs and your hands brace against his chest. Before you can blink the two of you are rutting like horny teenagers. You’re moving together in a frantic rhythm - needy, messy, shameless.

The small space is filled with the sound of your moans, gasps, the wet slide of your lips against each other. You kiss him like he’s never just been your friend, licking into his mouth with abandon then pulling back only to pant over him - watching the way he looks up at you, dazed and wrecked. 

Hyunjin stares at you like you’re a work of fucking art, a masterpiece. He admires every dip and curve of you like he’s trying to commit it to memory. His eyes rake over the curve of your neck, the way your hair falls over your shoulder and your hips roll. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips, teeth sinking into the plump flesh in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. But he knows that his attempts are futile. 

“You have no idea how sexy you are.” He groans, voice rough with need. His praise sends a shiver through you, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Beautiful. So pretty, so hot.”

His fingers curl into your fishnets and on the next swirl of your hips he rips them with a simple tug. His fingers pop the diamonds like they were silk spun spider webs and the pop against your skin makes you moan out louder than intended.

“Hyunjin…”

“Don’t.” He’s barely holding it together. “Do not moan my name. I will fucking cum.” 

His hands find your hips again and he grinds up against you in hopes that he can guide you towards your high before he falls over the edge first. “Is that what you want? Want me to cum in my pants, baby?” 

Your head falls back, hands pushing under the hem of his shirt, fingers greedily mapping the firm muscles of his abdomen. He moans at the contact, his muscles tense under your touch.

“Yes,” You breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, I want that. Want it so fucking badly, Hyune…” Your nails sink into his taunt muscle, your hips grind over the head of his cock and Hyunjin tenses beneath you. 

His grip is bruising, his cock twitching against your core before he spills into his sweats with a choked moan. His head falls back, exposing the pretty line of his throat, his jaw slack as you ride him through his orgasm in order to work towards your own.

“Holy shit, oh my god, yeah. Keep going, keep going.” His words tumble out in a desperate string as he keeps one hand on your hip, the other palming your ass while your hips meet his wild bucking. 

“Yes, yes, gonna…” It only took one more roll of your hips. One more needy grind against his leaking cock beneath you and you crash. Your orgasm takes you right then and there. 

It’s blinding. Paralyzing. Intoxicating. 

Hyunjin sits up instantly, wrapping you in his arms, holding you to his chest as he feels your body shudder. His hips are still bucking up subtly, trying to help you ride out your orgasm while he peppers soft kisses over your temple, your cheek, whatever he can reach.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, baby, god.” He whispers, his breath still ragged from his climax as you ride the aftershocks of yours. You hug him, holding onto him like he’s your life line and he holds you right back. 

Hyunjin runs his fingers lazily through your hair while you run your fingers over his. He melts into your touch, resting his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you say anything - not yet. There’s nothing that needs to be said. 

A couple of minutes of your shared settling breaths being the only sound in the room passes before Hyunjin breaks the silence.

“I’m afraid that you were right… I am a simp.” You scoff a laugh, pulling back to meet his playful gaze. “But so are you.”

“I am not,” You protest, feigning offense. Instead of arguing with you he simply leans in, stealing a kiss from your lips. 

“I am still not-” Another kiss. “Hyunjin!”

“Admit it.” He grins, kissing you again. “C’mon.”

“I am not-” He kisses you again, deeper. Longer. He takes his time and savors the way you melt into him all over again.

And then you moan.

Hyunjin pulls back just enough to smile at you. “You fucking moaned.”

You groan, rolling your eyes and accepting defeat. “Fine!” You scoff, feigning annoyance. “I am a simp for you.”

Hyunjin’s smile softens, his hand slips to the back of your head and pulls you into another kiss. It’s slow. Soft and sweet.

“Yeah,” He murmurs against your lips “I know.”

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[riboism]

prettiest virgin

》 pairing: dilf! j.yh x fem babysitter! reader

》 wc: 7.8k

》 plot: every night this summer, you fantasized about your boss, Mr. Jeong. babysitting his adorable daughter all summer had turned your small crush on the young, single dad into a lust-filled infatuation. after an awkward encounter that left you both humiliated, you did your best to keep your distance at his daughter’s birthday party. that is, until fate trapped you in a bathroom with him while the party carried on outside.

》 content: oh boy, let's see, age gap, aged up yunho, virgin reader, reader lowkey down bad and porn-obsessed, bathroom sex, mirror sex, panties stay on!! grinding, cowgirl stand and carry, yunho basically using you like a fleshlight, use of sir and good girl, filthy dirty talk, cum eating, cum facial, multiple orgasms, reader obsessed with his cum lol, thigh fucking, sucking his dick while he watches porn??? MONSTER CAWK YUNHO

》 playlist: prettiest virgin- agar agar, candy- doja cat, I fucking lust you- d'african, taste so good- sabrina claudio, less of you- omar apollo, real life- the marias

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again, but here you were, laying in bed with a vibrator cupped to your clit, eyes glued to your phone screen as you tapped on the first video in the big dick category. It took a while for the vibrator to buzz you the right way, but once you found your sweet spot, your head sank lower into your pillow and you had to bite your lip to keep any sounds from slipping out of your mouth. This was the fifth night in a row that you jerked off, and honestly, you were exhausted; Tired of waking up late because of your little late-night endeavors, tired of feeling gross each time your wetness leaked out and stained your panties during the day, and most of all, tired of being a virgin. 

The video you were watching had your favorite pornstar in it. The guy himself wasn’t at all your type, but his cock was pretty. And big. It’s weird to admit, but this is how you imagined Mr. Jeong’s cock looked like. You had been babysitting Mr. Jeong’s six-year-old daughter for the summer while school was out. She was an angel. Hana reminded you a lot of Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls cartoon, with her sweet little voice and sensitive nature. You loved spending time with her. 

Yes, throughout the summer, you had developed a crush on Hana’s Dad. How could you not? He was everything a man ought to be— tall, handsome, and kind. His being a good father was just a plus in your eyes. He worked from home, so you’d see him occasionally throughout the day. During his break, he’d come downstairs from his home office to color with Hana for a few minutes. During lunch, you’d sit with them on the patio, watching with heart eyes as he wiped ketchup off of her little mouth. 

Lately, your infatuation has become all-consuming, and you resorted to buying a vibrator from Amazon to help ease your frustrations. And that’s when this little habit of yours began. It felt odd, at first. You didn’t want to be the type of person who watches porn every night for hours, imagining your boss doing all these things to you. It just sort of happened. And instead of easing your frustrations, it made them worse. 

You hated being a virgin. Vibrators weren’t enough. You, for lack of a better term, needed to be dicked down. Preferably by Mr. Jeong, but that would only happen in your wildest dreams. It wasn’t like he made it easy for you. Yesterday for example, when you were preparing Hana’s PB&J, Mr. Jeong reached over your head to grab a mug from the cupboard above you. “Behind you,” he alerted, his fingers grazing over your waist as he pulled his coffee mug out. You stood frozen, the place where he touched you burning hot on your skin. 

Every time he touches you, whether it’s the accidental brush of his fingers when he hands you your check or the deliberate weight of his hand on your shoulder as he thanks you at the end of the day, it only makes you crave him more and more.

The video you were watching had an obvious size kink going on. The male pornstar was huge, and he was able to pick up his petite partner and fuck into her with ease. Your thighs clenched thinking about Mr. Jeong picking you up like that and pumping you up and down his length, stuffing just the tip of his big cock into you because that’s all that could fit. Your core tightened, and your orgasm was imminent, until…

It died. Your vibrator died. 

“Oh, fuck off!” You cursed, slamming your head back into your pillow. Stupid cheap fucking vibrator. Here’s to another night of being a lonely, twenty-something virgin, going to bed unsatisfied and unwanted. You sighed, exasperated.

Mr. Jeong was older. You didn’t know much about his wife. It was a sensitive topic for him. And Hana was too young to remember her final moments. He couldn’t possibly want anything to do with you, and instead, you filled your head with unrealistic fantasies to keep yourself up at night and made yourself cum to them. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you were around more boys your age. 

Too tired to continue with your fingers, you shifted to your side and tried to make yourself comfortable. It was 4 in the morning now, which meant you’d only get about 3 hours tonight. Just great, you thought to yourself, waiting for the exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep. 

—

You were rather sluggish today, struggling to keep your eyes open as you drove to Mr. Jeong’s house. The cold brew you picked up before heading over there wasn’t much help. Instead, it just made you even more tired. I need to stop jerking off before bed, you told yourself. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant you had enough time to catch up on the lost hours of sleep this weekend. 

You sighed as you measured out the detergent to wash Hana’s favorite tutu, the warm and fuzzy smell of fabric softener reminding you of your blanket at home, making you want to sleep even more. Hana got upset this morning before you dropped her off to ballet practice when some syrup from her drive-thru pancakes dripped onto her tutu. To quiet her tantrum, you promised her you’d go back home to wash it so it's nice and clean for her to wear when she comes back, and that you’d also bring her second favorite tutu for practice— a purplish-blue one with pink glitter dusted around it. It didn’t feel right just washing one piece of clothing, so you decided to go upstairs and quickly grab the dirty clothes from Hana and Mr. Jeong’s hampers. 

You yawned as you made your way up the stairs, stopping by Hana’s room first. Her room was, as always, a chaotic mess—Barbie dolls and crayons scattered across the floor in colorful disarray, old juice boxes, and snack bags left forgotten on the desk. No matter how many times you tried to teach her the importance of cleaning up after herself, the lesson never seemed to stick. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed the clothes from her hamper and stuffed them into the laundry basket.

Leaving her room, you headed toward Mr. Jeong’s, but froze mid-step as a strange, muffled sound reached your ears from his office. At first, you assumed he was in a meeting, but as you drew closer, the noises grew more alarming—strained and uneven, almost as if he were in pain or… crying?

You gently set the laundry basket down on the floor, carefully tiptoeing toward the door. Pressing your ear against the cold, wooden surface, you strained to make sense of the muffled noises coming from inside. A sharp hiss followed by a low, frustrated “fuck” caught you off guard, making your breath hitch.

Startled, you raised a hand and knocked lightly on the door. “Mr. Jeong?” you called softly. No answer. Concern gnawed at you, and without thinking, you turned the knob. The door creaked as it inched open, the sound slicing through the stillness.

“Mr. Jeong, is everything—” you started, stepping inside.

Mr. Jeong swiveled in his chair, his face frozen in a mask of shock and embarrassment. The two of you stood locked in place as if time itself had come to a standstill. The only sounds in the room were the filthy, lewd moans of a woman coming from his computer. Your gaze dropped instinctively, trailing down his frame until your eyes caught on something in his lower half— his long slender fingers gripping tightly onto his erect cock. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his voice sharp with panic as he scrambled to pull his pants up, hastily stuffing himself back into his waistband. His movements were frantic, his face flushed a deep crimson. “I-I thought you were at the ballet school!”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat rising so quickly you felt your face must be as red as his. “I-I was,” you stammered, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you tried to steady your voice. “But… Hana’s tutu got dirty, and I… I came back to grab another one…”

The porn video continued playing in the background, the sounds of the ridiculously wet blowjob making the awkwardness even more unbearable.

Mr. Jeong, finally snapping out of his daze, spun back to his computer and fumbled to exit the site, the click of the mouse unnervingly loud in the heavy silence. He turned back to you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came. His expression was a mixture of shame and desperation, his face still a deep shade of red.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice breathless and shaky as you struggled to compose yourself. The urge to flee was overwhelming. “I-I should get back to Hana. So sorry again!”

Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and hurried out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.

—

You had worried earlier about how you’d make it through the day, feeling so drained and sluggish, but the shock from what happened had jolted you awake like a surge of electricity. Now, a different concern gnawed at you—whether you’d be able to sleep at all tonight. Embarrassment burned through you, and you were sure poor Mr. Jeong wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth after that moment.

Yet, despite yourself, your mind kept racing, replaying the image of his cock. It was so big. It was prettier than the pornstar’s you watch every night. It looked so firm in his hands, the tip flushed pink just like his cheeks. You wondered how it would feel between your legs. Would you even be able to take it? You had dildos in the past, but nothing more than the size of your palm.

“Cash or card?” Hana chirped, her cheerful voice snapping you out of the inappropriate thoughts swirling in your head about her dad.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking down at her as she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. The living room was a mess, scattered with the colorful pieces of her cashier playset. She pointed at the small plastic credit card in your hand, her expression expectant.

“Oh, uh… I guess card?” you replied, handing it over. You watched as she swiped it through the toy terminal, her little hand expertly mimicking the action.

“Boo beep!” she said with a grin, the sound effects spot-on, before handing you back the card along with a tiny plastic milk carton. “Here you go!”

You couldn’t help but smile, her playful innocence pulling you further from your earlier embarrassment. ���Thanks, Hana. Can I have a bag, please?”

“That’s fifty cents extra.” 

“Little haggler, aren’t you?” You teased. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, pulling Hana’s attention away from the transaction. “Daddy!” she exclaimed joyfully, rushing toward Mr. Jeong and wrapping her tiny arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Hey, peanut,” he greeted with a warm smile, scooping her up and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Daddy, I did a pirouette today at practice! Wanna see?”

As Hana spun around, tripping over her own feet a couple of times, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag. You kept your eyes down, moving toward the door with a quiet sigh of relief. For once, you were thankful it wasn’t payday; no need to linger any longer, no forced small talk with Mr. Jeong. He seemed just as relieved as he tried his best to avoid you altogether. 

“See you next week, kiddo,” you said, ruffling Hana’s soft hair before heading for the door.

“Wait, Daddy! Can Y/N come to my birthday party tomorrow?”

Mr. Jeong’s smile faltered, replaced by an uncomfortable glance in your direction. “Oh, um, well… why don’t you ask her, sweetie?” he said, quickly deflecting the question back to you.

Hana ran up to you, pressing her small body into your legs and looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “Y/N, can you please please please come to my birthday party? There’s gonna be ice cream cake!”

The urge to say no was strong. You could sense Mr. Jeong’s discomfort, and honestly, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend away from him. But her hopeful gaze, the way her lips stuck out in a small, almost irresistible pout… it was too much to deny.

“Oh, well… I think I have to go somewhere this weekend and…” you started, but then her lower lip began to tremble, and you hated seeing her upset.

You let out a soft sigh, the words slipping out despite yourself. “I, uh, I guess I can come for a little bit.”

“Yay!” Hana cheered, her excitement spilling over as she jumped up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You exchanged a quiet good night with Mr. Jeong, the awkwardness lingering between you both, before disappearing into the warm summer night. The air was heavy as you made your way to your car, but your mind was racing.

As you sat behind the wheel, you cursed yourself under your breath. You should’ve held your ground, should’ve said no when you had the chance. But now… now you are going to a party with Mr. Jeong. How were you supposed to handle that? How were you supposed to navigate a whole afternoon, trapped in the same space with him, when the last thing you wanted was to face him after walking in on him jerking off earlier?

You huffed as you put your keys in the ignition. This was going to be a long weekend. 

—

The next day came quickly, too quickly, and you dreaded the whole affair as you pulled up on the driveway. You showed up about thirty minutes later than the time on the invitation, hoping to blend into the chaos without much fanfare. Sure enough, no one seemed to notice.

The house was buzzing with activity. Little kids, probably Hana’s classmates and friends from ballet, darted around like wild animals, screaming and leaving a trail of toys and crumbs in their wake. You weaved through the commotion, making your way to the table piled high with brightly wrapped presents.

You set down your gift; a doll set Hana had been dreaming about for weeks. Suddenly, you felt a small squeeze at your leg. Looking down, you saw Hana beaming up at you, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug.

“You came!” she squealed, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course I did. Happy birthday!” you said, smiling as you ruffled her hair.

“Come meet my friends!” she insisted, grabbing your hand before you could protest.

Hana dragged you into the backyard, where her friends were splashing in the pool, their parents sitting nearby and watching them like hawks. Hana proudly introduced you to two of her closest friends—“important friends,” as she whispered with a serious nod that made you chuckle.

As you chatted with Hana’s friends, you felt a familiar pull in the corner of your eye. Mr. Jeong stood near the grill, just within your peripheral vision. The moment you glanced in his direction, your heart gave a sharp tug. He was watching you.

Your breath caught, but just before you could process it, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the childlike conversation in front of you. As you nodded along, a thought crept in—was he still looking at you? The possibility made your skin prickle, a slow heat creeping up your neck, your pulse growing erratic. You fought the urge to glance his way again, but curiosity got the better of you. You glanced up again, a quick and casual move, but this time, he wasn’t looking anymore. He had already turned his attention to another parent, nodding along to whatever they were saying, sipping on his ice cold beer. Still, your skin tingled, like his gaze hadn’t fully left you.

The mix of the screaming children, the sun beating down on you, and the overwhelming energy of the party soon had you retreating. With a quick excuse, you headed for the shaded table, grabbing a Coca-Cola and savoring the brief moment of quiet.

You chugged the fizzy drink, the burn in your throat oddly satisfying as it momentarily cooled you off. As you set the half-empty can down, your ears caught snippets of a hushed conversation from the table next to you. Two women, likely mothers of Hana’s friends, were whispering, and one word made you tune in: Yunho.

“His wife passed away a few years ago, back when Hana was just learning to walk. Poor guy, raising her all on his own.”

“God, but he’s so cute, though,” the other one said, not bothering to lower her voice.

“I know, right? If I didn’t have Leo, I’d totally take him out for a spin.” They dissolved into giggles, clearly enjoying their little moment until their eyes flicked toward you.

You froze, caught mid-sip from your drink. The sudden attention made your cheeks warm as they realized you’d overheard them. One of the women quickly cleared her throat, trying to cover the awkwardness.

“So, which one’s yours?” she asked, her tone friendly, though her shoulders were tense—probably hoping you hadn’t heard the part where she casually considered sleeping with Mr. Jeong.

“Oh, none of them,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “I’m Hana’s babysitter.”

You took another sip of your soda, trying to ignore the way the two women were looking at you. It was obvious they had some kind of assumption about you and Mr. Jeong, and it made your skin prickle with discomfort.

“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Jeong had a babysitter,” the long-haired woman said, glancing at her friend with a knowing look.

You shifted under their stares, suddenly feeling like you were being sized up. They both looked down at your exposed legs, your flowy skirt just barely covering your knees. You knew what they were thinking. Their curiosity wasn’t just innocent small talk. It felt more like they were trying to figure out if you were a threat. A young, single dad and his younger, pretty babysitter? Sounded like an overdone porn plot. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your fingers anxiously slipped against your soda can, sending the cold, fizzy liquid spilling down the front of your shirt.

“Oh, shit—” You gasped, stepping back as the sticky sweetness seeped into the fabric.

The two women let out little gasps, covering their mouths, but neither of them moved to help.

“Ugh,” you muttered, shaking your hands off. “Excuse me.”

Quickly, you turned and made your way inside, walking past clusters of parents and kids until you reached the staircase. Your face was burning with frustration. This whole weekend was just one embarrassment after another. Everything had felt weird since yesterday. Mr. Jeong had been acting strange, you’d been acting strange, and now you had people assuming things about you that weren’t even true.

You climbed the stairs, the noise of the party fading as you finally reached the bathroom. With a sigh, you pushed the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door behind you.

The cold air from the vent hit your damp shirt, making the fabric cling to your skin uncomfortably. Grimacing, you pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the sink. You turned on the faucet, grabbing a towel to try and clean it before the stickiness set in.

As you rubbed at the stain, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed, your hair slightly messy from the heat outside. You looked… flustered. Not just from the soda incident, but from everything. From him. From the way he was staring at you, from the way you’d been thinking about him all day, despite knowing you shouldn’t. It was no surprise that you couldn’t sleep the night before, your hands stuffed inside your panties all night, forcing yourself to cum over and over as you thought about Mr. Jeong pumping his big hard cock after a long day. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of categories he liked. MILF? Hentai? Gangbang? Did he have a favorite pornstar? You desperately wanted to know what he liked, how he liked it, his greatest desires. But what was the use? You were only driving yourself mad with these little fantasies. 

You let out a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink. Get it together.

Before you could pull yourself back to reality, you were startled by a sudden commotion outside of your door. And before you could even react, the door knob turned and the door creaked open.

Your heart jumped into your throat as Mr. Jeong stepped inside, his eyes focused on something behind him, mid-sentence. “I’ll be right there, just gotta take a leak—”

He stopped. Completely frozen.

His eyes landed on your bare skin, the lacy edge of your bra, the way the damp fabric of your shirt sat crumpled in the sink.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then, as if snapping out of it, his eyes shot up to yours, and his face turned to that shade of red you’d seen before. “Shit” He spun around so fast he nearly slammed into the wall, and shut the door in front of him.

Your face burned with mortification. You grabbed your shirt, holding it up against your chest even though it was still wet. “What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, trying to sound indignant, but your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

He ran a hand through his hair, his head still facing the door. “It wasn’t locked! And my friend is outside and—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go.”

Silence lingered between you. You should’ve told him to hurry up and leave. Should’ve thrown something at him, and scolded him for barging in like that.

But you didn’t.

Instead, your pulse pounded in your ears as you watched the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way the muscle in the side of his jaw tensed. He was still standing there, motionless and breathing a little too hard, like he was trying really, really hard to control himself.

“…Are you gonna go?” you asked, your voice softer now.

Mr. Jeong hesitated, his hand lying still on the doorknob. He let out a shaky breath. “My friend is still out in the hall, maybe, I don’t know, I don’t want him to come in after me and see you. I’m just gonna give it another minute, just to be safe.” He whispered. 

The bathroom felt impossibly small like the walls had closed in on you. The silence stretched, almost suffocating, broken only by the soft inhales through his nose and the distant chatter from the party downstairs. The faint drip of the faucet filled the space between you, but neither of you moved, let alone spoke.

It had only been a few seconds—maybe ten, maybe twenty—but it felt like minutes, like an eternity of you two just standing there, backs turned, bodies tense.

You both strained your ears, trying to pick up any signs of his friend lingering outside, but the house was too noisy, too alive with the sound of kids playing and parents chatting. There was no way to tell.

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes lowered down to your body, just for a second, before he snapped his head forward again, almost too quickly, like he’d been caught looking.

His throat bobbed. “I think he might be gone,” he murmured. “I don’t hear anything.”

You nodded behind him, staying in place.

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders finally relaxing. “I’m really sorry,” he said, sounding defeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, gripping your damp shirt tighter against your chest. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I should’ve locked the door.”

“Right. Um… thanks,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, “I also meant about yesterday. I feel so embarrassed. I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable about working for me. Hana really likes you.”

The mention of yesterday sent a small twist through your stomach. You swallowed. “I’m sorry for that too. I shouldn’t have walked in on you like that.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “I guess we’re both just bad at locking doors. Makes us even.”

A small, nervous laugh slipped out of you, easing some of the tension in the room.

“And you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone does it—it’s normal,” you said, trying to reassure him, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Maybe to ease his discomfort. Maybe to ease your own.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh yeah?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “You jerk off in front of your babysitter too?”

The teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks warm up. But it was the way he turned then, fully facing you, locking his deep brown eyes onto yours, that made the air shift; buzzing with something neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt.

His smirk faded as quickly as it had come as if he suddenly realized how inappropriate his words were. But he didn’t apologize this time. And more importantly—he didn’t leave.

Your stomach twisted into knots again, breath growing heavier, shallower. Fuck. He was so hot. His sharp jawline, so strong and well-defined, tensed ever so slightly. His broad shoulders, so effortlessly commanding, made you feel smaller in the best way. And those eyes—deep, warm brown, always soft when he looked at Hana—weren’t so soft now. They were sharp, locked onto you with an intensity that made your pulse race. Even the faint crinkles near his eyes, the ones that usually appeared when he smiled, seemed more pronounced at this moment, only adding to how devastatingly beautiful he was.

You should have said something. You should have slipped on your cola-stained t-shirt and left the bathroom. But instead, you stood there, heart hammering in your chest, letting the weight of his gaze consume you. You couldn’t leave him. Not yet. 

And then, without a second thought, you let your damp t-shirt slip from your fingers, the fabric pooling at your feet. 

Mr. Jeong's gaze dropped to your cleavage, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His initial serious expression made your heart flutter with uncertainty. Have you crossed a line? But then, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and when his eyes met yours again, they held a spark that made your heart skip a beat. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mixture of sternness and intrigue.

“I just want to help…” you replied softly, stepping closer with careful slowness. Each step brought you nearer until you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with intent and a hint of mischief.

With a soft but bold touch, you reached out to cup his clothed cock, feeling its firmness beneath your palm. You applied a teasing pressure, grinding your hand against him. The sudden contact made him draw in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he absorbed the sensation. “You didn’t get to cum last time, did you?” you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper that broke the tense silence between you.

His eyes opened slowly, a mix of desire and astonishment etched on his features. The initial hesitation seemed to melt away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop a moan from escaping. You could feel him hardening in your hand, his pant seam threatening to burst open. 

As if all his restraint had snapped, he pressed one hand against the back of your head, fingers burrowing into your hair, while the other slid just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. He slammed his lips onto yours, finally giving in to the wild desire that had been simmering between you all day. Your lips moved messily while he grinded himself against your hand.  “Fuck, you’re fucking crazy,” he said breathlessly into your lips, “And no, I didn’t, but I did think about creaming on your face before bed last night.”  

You could already feel a wetness pooling between your legs, his words being the boost you so desperately needed to move forward. You kept kissing him hungrily while undoing his fly, his half-hard cock springing out in anticipation. You took him into your hand, your fingers barely meeting as you gripped around him, stroking him gently while he cursed into your mouth. 

Mr. Jeong pulled away and spun you around in one swift move, pressing your body against his chest and trapping you in his embrace. Your hand remained obedient and eager, pumping his cock as his big hands roamed your body. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slipped underneath your skirt. “Wore this skimpy little thing on purpose, didn’t you?” His words cascaded down your neck, “Little slut.” 

You moaned softly as his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit, your sticky wet juices leaking through the fabric. Mr. Jeong gathered the front of your panties together and pulled with a force that made you gasp. The fabric wedged against your throbbing pussy, leaving you whimpering as you bucked your hips against the friction. 

“Your so fucking wet, Y/N…” He teased, his lips pressed against your ears, sending a rush of butterflies in your stomach. “You liked what you saw yesterday, didn’t you? Couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you? Bet you came in on purpose, hmm? Heard what I was doing and wanted to help me cum?” 

A deep, throaty moan escaped your lips. You loved the way he was talking to you, the way he reduced you to a horndog little pervert, and deep down, you knew it was true. You were addicted to the thrill of it all. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I wanna be your good girl, your slut. Wanna help you cum sir, please. Want your hot load on me. Please, sir, I need it.” Your words were an invitation, a desperate plea for the intense pleasure you’ve craved for so long, and you knew he couldn't resist.

Mr. Jeong shifted from behind you and you felt the warmth of his cock, a tantalizing tap against your cunt, which forced an excited yelp from your lips. His hand covered your mouth, a gentle yet firm reminder to keep quiet. “Don’t want anyone hearing us, do we baby?” 

His cock was sandwiched between your sopping-wet folds and the tight fabric of your panties. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but grind your hot, eager pussy over his length. Your back rested against his chest, and you could feel his heart pounding in sync with your racing pulse. The fabric of your panties provided delicious friction, and you moaned softly into his hand, the sound muffled but still carrying the weight of your satisfaction. 

You pressed your thighs together, squeezing his cock as you rode him, the sensation being too much for the both of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” He panted, his head falling forward and burying into your shoulder. 

You grew restless, your grinding becoming faster and wild, the sounds of your quiet and desperate begging like music to his ears. “Please, sir, cum in my panties, I’ll be so good,” You pleaded with tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. The thought of walking around in his cum-soaked panties gave you a thrill. You could feel your clit pulsing as you rutted against his shaft, the sheer bliss of it beyond anything you’d ever experienced. “I’m gonna cum, sir, please…oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

As your orgasm subsided, his cock still pressed against your swollen clit. You felt a numbness, a euphoric high that left you floating, your wetness a warm, inviting contrast to his hot, throbbing length. Shivers ran down your spine, and you felt like you were hovering, your consciousness detached from your body. 

Mr. Jeong lifted you in his strong arms, carrying you like fragile glass. He brought you to the bathroom mirror, and as he held you up, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of his length against your body. It was almost surreal, the difference in scale, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He snaked a hand around your waist, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your wet, glistening cunt to the cool air. You shivered, feeling a rush of vulnerability. He slapped his cock against your wet cunt, grinning, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

“What are you doing, sir?” you asked shyly, your voice soft and hesitant. You had never experienced this position before, and the sight of your legs spread wide and your cunt so open and exposed made you nervous. Mr. Jeong's hands grasped under your thighs, supporting your weight, and you could feel his strength and his muscles bulging as he held you up. “I wanna see this little pussy take my big cock,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Wanna watch it stretch and take me deep.” 

You gulped, your heart racing in your chest. You had never taken something this big before, and Mr. Jeong was indeed impressive. The thought of being stretched, of accommodating to his size, both excited and intimidated you. You wanted to tell him about your virginity, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't want to turn him off, and so you remained silent, your mind racing with a mix of emotions.

Noticing your worried glance reflected in the mirror, Mr. Jeong's eyes narrowed, a hint of disappointment creasing his features. “What's wrong, baby? You wanna stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

“No,” you said quietly before reaching down to grasp his cock. With a firm grip, you began to work him up and down, the weight of his hard length in your hands making your pussy twitch. You pushed his cock against your entrance, the head pressing against your tight, virgin opening. “Please, sir,” you begged, your voice pathetically dry. “I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you stretching me, filling me up. Wanna be good for you.”

The thought of giving up your virginity to him was both scary and exhilarating. You wanted to be his, to belong to him in the most intimate way possible. You pumped him desperately, your core aching to have him stuffed deep inside you. 

The head of his cock pressed against your tight opening, and you could feel the stretch, the burning sensation of being filled for the very first time. A sob escaped your lips as Mr. Jeong slowly lowered you over his cock, the mirror reflecting it all. You watched in awe as his hot, throbbing rod disappeared inside your body, the sight of it stretching you, filling you, almost too much to bear.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted, his eyes wide with a mix of pleasure and awe. The sensation of being filled by his impressive size was intense, and you were intoxicated by a mixture of pain and bliss, the feeling making your mind numb. He was incredibly gentle at first, pushing just the tip of his cock into your walls, treating you with the utmost care. But as tension built within him, his eyes grew darker, a fierce lust taking over. With a sudden, primal urge, he began working you over his cock, pulling you up and down, your tight pussy gripping his length. You felt incredible to him, like a fleshlight come to life, and even he struggled to mask his moans as your body adjusted to his size. 

The pain was fleeting, replaced by a deep, satisfying pleasure. “Oh god, sir” you whispered, your voice strained. “It feels so good. So full... Please, don't stop.” Your sweet pleas made his ears buzz, his stomach fluttering from just how sweetly you begged for more of him. 

“God, you’re doing so good for me,” He praised, almost giddy with how effortlessly you fit him. His eyes never left the mirror, his thick bulge disappearing into your tight, wet pussy, a sight too mesmerizing to look away from.  “Such a good girl…look so pretty on my cock” He huffed, “My little cumslut.” 

His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you felt your pussy clench around him in response. You wanted him to keep talking dirty to you, to fill your ears with every filthy word and fantasy he had while pounding into you. 

Mr. Jeong grew tired, and he placed you back on the ground, pushing your body down against the sink, the cold marble against your bare stomach sending a chill down your spine. He lifted your skirt, rubbing himself against your puffy pussy lips, the overstimulation driving you wild. You felt his cock, thick and hard, lining up with your hole, and you knew what was coming. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he pushed into you in one swift, powerful motion, filling you up completely. He stilled his hips, giving your pussy a chance to adjust to his size, to wrap itself around him, to pulsate and invite him deeper. You were stuffed, every inch of your pussy filled with his cock, his balls swinging and slapping against your raw skin with each thrust.

With each snap of his hips, you cursed under your breath, your fingers gripping tightly to the sink as if it were your only anchor in this storm. "S-so big!" you yelped, your voice filled with a mix of awe and fear. Your body was now completely at the mercy of Mr. Jeong, his powerful strokes sending waves of pleasure and pain through your sensitive pussy.

As he continued to thrust into you, he brought one hand up, pressing his fingers against your mouth, effectively silencing your moans. "Gotta do something about that mouth, baby," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers, still wet with your juices from before, found their way into your mouth, and you gladly accepted them, your lips closing around his digits. You moaned deeply, your tongue wrapping around his fingers, tasting yourself on them. You lost yourself in his touch, his hard cock massaging your gummy walls, his fingers probing and exploring your warm mouth, his lips licking and sucking your ear lobe as he whispered filth to you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.

As your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, you were struck by a sense of unfamiliarity. Your makeup was smudged and running, the black mascara staining your tears and streaking down your cheeks. Your hair was frizzy and chaotic, some sweat-drenched strands framing your face and sticking to your warm cheeks. Your lips looked wet and swollen as you gagged around Mr. Jeong’s long fingers, the saliva dripping down your chin. You loved it. You looked like a woman who had been pleasured beyond measure. There was an intoxicating power in seeing yourself like this, a power that made you feel alive and desirable. It reminded you of the pornstar Mr. Jeong was watching yesterday, her fucked-out expression now mirroring your own. 

"Oh god, sir, it's too much!" you moaned, pulling his fingers out from your mouth. "I can't take it! I'm gonna cum again!"

“Fuck, me too,” He grunted as he pulled out of you, feeling the inevitable approach of his own release. Relief washed over you, your body weakening, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing. Mr. Jeong spun you around, placing a hand on the top of your head, pushing you to your knees just as your body swayed with the first waves of your climax. 

As Mr. Jeong jerked himself off with his hand, his eyes never left your face, now a beautiful canvas covered in the ropes of his hot cum. Though still reeling from the intense orgasm he had just given you, you opened your mouth wide, obediently accepting his thick, white cum as it splashed over your tongue. The taste was both bitter and sour, but you loved it, a unique flavor that was all his.

You licked your lips, moaning softly as you savored his taste. You kissed his tender tip, running your tongue over his slit, relishing the feeling of his cum leaking out, warm and sticky.

With a playful smile, Mr. Jeong rubbed his tip against your lips, leaving a trail of cum as he did so. "Shit, baby, you look so pretty with my cum on your face," he said, his voice shaky with post-orgasmic delight. "My sweet little cumslut."

Taking him into your mouth once more, you swirled your tongue around his sensitive head, moaning from the taste and texture of his cum. You pulled off with a plopping sound, a satisfied smile on your face. "Taste so good, sir," you whispered, your voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "Thank you for letting me taste your cum.”

Mr. Jeong, clearly pleased with your gratitude, ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, there was a hard knock on the door, snapping you both out of your little daze. 

“Yo, Yunho,” a voice called from the door. “Are you taking a shit? How much longer are you gonna be? Hana’s ready to cut the cake.”

Mr. Jeong flinched, his hands moving fast as he pulled his bottoms up, stuffing himself back inside like a guilty teenager caught red-handed. “Uh, just a minute! I’ll be right out!” he called back, voice strained.

The man sighed. “Alright, well, hurry up. The cake’s melting out here.”

You both snapped into action, scrambling to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. The rush of reality crashing back down made your heart pound even harder than before. Just as you were ready to bolt, Yunho suddenly froze, his expression shifting once he realized the mess he left on your face was still dripping down your cheeks. 

Then, without a word, he grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped the sticky white jelly from your flushed face. “Sorry,” he murmured, his fingers barely grazing your skin, his eyes burning with the same embarrassed, heated look from before.

Once you were clean, he lingered for a second too long, standing so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He parted his mouth as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Instead, his fingers anxiously tapped against his thigh, a nervous habit you had never noticed before.

“You should go first,” you said quickly, sensing the weight of the moment. “I’ll come down after.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered, stuffing his shirt back into his waistband before slipping out the door with hurried, uneven steps.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sank onto the toilet seat. The room still smelled faintly of him, and it felt unreal how fast the energy had shifted. Had he just been hit with regret? Was he now scrambling to shove this whole thing into a locked box in his mind? Now no longer in the heat of the moment, did he think what you two did was wrong? Were you going to get fired? 

For the rest of the party, Mr. Jeong successfully avoided you. He busied himself slicing tiny squares of cake for the kids, nodding along to endless small talk with the other parents as if nothing had happened.

You took the hint, feeling a slight shame in your chest.

Slipping out early, you gave Hana a tight hug before heading back to your car. The second you settled into your seat, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a sigh, you pulled it out, expecting something mundane.

But when you read the message, you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Jeong Yunho: See you Monday ;)

—

Your sleep schedule had indeed improved, and you found yourself no longer relying on toys to satisfy your desires. The structure and routine of your new life, with Hana and Mr. Jeong, had brought a sense of balance and fulfillment. You enjoyed the daily interactions with Hana, whether it was playing frisbee in the backyard or teaching her simple math in her room. Your bond with her grew stronger each day, and you found great joy in being a positive influence in her life.

However, it was the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays that held a special place in your heart. These were the days when you dropped Hana off at her ballet recitals, and while she was practicing her pliés and pirouettes, you would return to their home to tend to your other job.

Your knees were growing sore from scraping against the carpet under Yunho’s desktop table. Sounds of girls moaning emanated from his monitor. Though you were curious about what he was watching, you knew it was none of your business. Instead, you focused on the task at hand and wrapped your warm mouth over his throbbing cock, nestling yourself between his legs from under his desk. The width of his bulge filled your throat, and you gagged lightly, a sign of your complete submission to him.

Yunho, lost in the porno he was watching, seemed momentarily unaware of your presence. He was engrossed in the images on his screen, his eyes droopy and his breathing heavy. Your mouth bobbed up and down, your lips wrapping tightly around his shaft, and you could feel his excitement building. The sound of his moans mixed with the pornographic sounds on his computer made you clench around nothing, forcing you to slip your hand past your waistband. 

As you continued to suck him, you could feel his hands running through your hair, gently guiding your movements. You massaged his warm balls with your free hand, feeling his cum bubbling up in his sack, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he released his load into your waiting mouth.

"That's it, baby," Yunho whispered, his voice soft yet dominant. “Keep that pretty mouth on me. So good…so, so good for me.”

I would greatly appreciate reblogs with comments and replies. please consider leaving feedback if you enjoyed this x.

[loveesiren]

𝖢𝗁𝗈𝗂 𝖲𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀-𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗏𝗌. 𝖳.𝖮.𝖯 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝖧𝖢

Highly requested Choi Seunghyun vs. T.O.P smut HCs! This man is so damn fine and I need him badly.

Warnings: smutty smut smut. MDNI. 18+, breeding kink

Choi Seunghyun

❁ Seunghyun, who always picks up dinner for you on his way home, excited to sit on the couch and watch a movie with you.

❁ Seunghyun, who refuses to buy you your own hoodies because you're just so stinkin' cute in his. He loves how big they are on you.

❁ Seunghyun, who could never get close enough to you. He'd lay in your lap and pick up your hand, placing it in his hair so you'd play with it. He'd reach inside your hoodie, his hands roaming your stomach and breasts, not in a sexual way, he just needed the skin to skin contact.

❁ Seunghyun, who loved sleeping naked with you, because again, he needs that skin to skin contact, it makes his dreams feel real.

❁ Seunghyun, who always brings you to the studio with him so he can show you the new music he's been working on. His eyes lit up every time you praised his work.

❁ Seunghyun, who loved the way you fell asleep in his lap, clinging to him like a spider monkey while he finished editing his songs. He loved carrying you to bed and tucking you in.

❁ Seunghyun, who loved your body so much. When the two of you got intimate, he took his sweet time exploring every inch of your body. And I'm not talking normal fan fic stuff. This man would take a good hour showing love to every part of you, making sure you felt worshipped. Sometimes you almost got angry because god you were just so fucking horny.

❁ Seunhyun, who got lost in making out with your pussy because you tasted so damn sweet.

❁ Seunghyun, who would hold your hands over your head as he grinded into you, holding eye contact with you even as he kissed you because your eyes were just so pretty.

❁ Seunghyun, who whimpered when he felt you clench around him, his release soon following because god he loved the way your body needed him.

❁ Seunghyun, who'd run a bath for the two of you and sit silently as you leaned back against him, peppering kisses on top of your head and temples as he ran soap over your body.

❁ Seunghyun, who clung to you so tightly when you slept together, because he just needed you more than anything.

T.O.P

☆ TOP, who was protective and possessive over you. His hands never leaving your body when you were out in public.

☆ TOP, who broke a mans jaw for trying to grope you.

☆ TOP, who was fucking dominant.

☆ TOP, who's demeanor changed around the paparazzi when you were with him. He had a primal instinct to protect you.

☆ TOP, who loved to tease you in public. Brushing his fingers over your clothed pussy under the dinner table, telling you to settle down when your breath hitched.

☆ TOP, who'd say, "We're at a business dinner, Y/n. Compose yourself." He'd mutter as he pressed harder against your core.

☆ TOP, who loved watching you squirm in public.

☆ TOP, who prayed you'd crack because that means he gets to punish you when you get home.

☆ TOP, who tsked at you the second you walked through the door. Loving the way you looked up at him with those big innocent eyes. "Strip." He'd say, as he removed the watch from his wrist. "You didn't settle down when I told you to, did you?"

☆ TOP, who watched you with hungry eyes as your dress fell to the floor. "On your knees."

☆ TOP, who loved how you did exactly as he said, you looked so cute on the floor looking up with him at him with needy eyes.

☆ TOP, who'd throat fuck you relentlessly, telling you you were such an obedient girl as he watched your mascara run down your face.

☆ TOP, who'd throw you over his knee, landing relentless spankings on your pretty little ass until your cheeks turned red. He loved the way you whimpered.

☆ TOP, who'd pick you up and throw your legs over his shoulders as he slid you down on his cock, the pressure was almost too overwhelming.

☆ TOP, who'd fuck up into you, loving the way your tits bounced as you came undone around him.

☆ TOP, who'd cum deep inside you and force you to sit upside down after because the man had a breeding kink and he wanted to make sure you got pregnant.

☆ TOP, who'd light a cigarette as he sat next to you, making sure none of his cum spilled out of you, using his thumb to push back in any that threatened to spill out.

☆ TOP, who when he decided you'd been a good girl for him, would take you to the shower and clean you up.

☆ TOP, who'd make sure you were tucked sweetly in bed, admiring his pretty girl, before he stepped out for his final cigarette of the night.

Tags: @kaylieiskrazy04 @fr3akyyg1rll @heuningpie @sapph1r3x @moondooll @tranquilty @noharaaa @mariaxman @dear-satan @infinetlyforgotten @staryscorner @blu-brrys @come-as-you-are-111 @nicklet94 @vamplivivi @3mma-lovely @hanadulsetaad @sayugarper @forevervibezzzz1 @shieraseastarrs @mooonologyy @skzdreamz @stillpervert @seunghyunwifey @juliskopf @mirahyun @mattsturniolosbabymama @kai-277 @rotten-toenails

[artemisiasmuse]

sex ban | toxic rafe x toxic reader

cw: obvi mdni 18+, toxic jealous rafe, physical violence (not towards the reader), sex ban lifted!, p in v, multiple rounds, unprotected (don’t do this), munch of the year rafe, crying during sex, squirting, headlock, oral receiving for both of them, mentions of blood, again these bitches are crazy

~ 4k words

an: this was so filthy i think i need to go to church (im not even christian) also don’t know if how i described the positions made sense but we move T_T

“you can’t be serious?” rafe looked up from his hands, you’d cleaned off the blood all the while being extremely pissed off. you couldn’t believe he beat someone to a pulp, again, just for checking you out. you hated how good he looked covered in blood, hated how even now you could feel your underwear getting sticky from your arousal.

“i am, no sex for two weeks, maybe then you’ll stop being such an asshole!” surely you were joking, there’s no way you’d hold out on him that long. he knew he wouldn’t survive without your pussy and he prayed you would give up after a few days. his prayers weren’t answered.

two weeks passed with the ease of a thousand pounds dropped onto rafe’s shoulders. he was irritable all the time, practically blue-balled the entire time, and couldn’t stand being in the room with anyone that wasn’t you. at some point, after he begged to at least eat you out, you stopped letting him come over at night even. rafe was practically vibrating with need, yet you seemed so unaffected.

he had a fucking reminder set on his phone for midnight when the two weeks was over, of course he was already on the way to your place at 11:50. you expected nothing less, unlocking the door for him preemptively, and he huffed out a breath when he found you sitting on your couch watching tv like it was nothing. like you didn’t care. rafe was so pent up he might come from a single stroke of your tiny hand around his cock, but here you were, calm and collected. you muted the tv when you saw him, he sat next to you, leaving a gap he normally wouldn’t, and began to apologize.

“baby it’s been two weeks, i’m sorry okay? i’ll do better.”

“you said that last time.”

“i mean it this time, i won’t beat anyone up, unless you want me to.” you roll your eyes at his addition, turning your body to face him. rafe’s eyes tracked the way your shirt rode up your thighs, realizing it was actually his shirt. his mouth felt dry, he hadn’t been so hard from so little since he was a fucking preteen.

“okay.” you conceded, you kinda had to, rafe looked a lil too good like he knew the exact outfit that would make you forgive him easily. his hands were veiny and a ring accentuated his long thick fingers, fingers you missed dearly. yours just weren’t cutting it any more, he knew exactly how to touch you, fill you, make your mind numb. and that was just his fingers, his pink tongue had slipped out to lick at his lips and you can’t focus much longer, all the memories flashing by.

“okay?” rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he couldn’t believe you were taking him back so easily. he didn’t dare move or touch you until you confirmed.

“uh huh, your apology is accepted.” you nodded slow like molasses, your eyes already glazed over with need. he couldn’t tell, he was so caught up in his own desire. and as the word left your pretty lips, the spell was lifted.

“fuck come here” the words are empty, his large hand closes around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, his lips finding your own. you’d kissed the past two weeks but this is different, this is urgent. he’s sloppy with it, tongue peeking out into your mouth, tasting you, sucking on your tongue. it’s less of a kiss and more of a bite, he wants to consume you. you groan into his mouth, unsatisfied with the distance between you two and you move to straddle him. rafe pulls back at that, no he wouldn’t let you, he’d much rather have you on your back, he pushes you down by your neck, the slight pressure makes you keen. there’s no chance for you to sit back up when he’s leaning over you, settling between your legs and kissing you back down.

his kisses trail off, bites and open-mouthed kisses trailing your neck till he reaches your collarbone. your shirt is discarded with a blink of your eye and you wonder if he’s moving too fast. you can barely keep up when a mouth latches over your nipple, sucking harshly. “fuckkk i missed my girls” a lewd pop releases it from his mouth, giving attention to the other one and you arch into his touch. his large hand closes around the now sore nipple, pinching and massaging while he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it. the cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of his bites and you moan his name in desperation. the stickiness in your underwear is getting embarrassing and you feel like a fire is burning in your core. there’s no need for you to ask, rafe wants to eat, he’s been starving for weeks and your pussy is the only thing that can satiate him. after littering your chest and neck with hickies he kisses down your stomach, marveling at how soft your skin is, how he should never take an inch of it for granted any more. when he finally reaches your pink lace panties, he realizes it’s too much work to take them off you. that would require him getting off you and he really couldn’t afford to move an inch away. his fingers trace the flimsy material and he decides very quickly, tearing it off you with ease, and you hear the rip before you feel it. you don’t even notice him stuff the material into his pocket from the shock.

“rafe!” you don’t know if you’re mad or even more turned on but you wiggle under his gaze, blue eyes glued to your puffy and slick cunt. the tv screen illuminates enough for him to see his pretty girl is soaked. he nearly drools.

“getting in the way of my meal, i’ll buy you new ones.” he murmurs, not even looking away once, you huff at his words, and push his head down. he doesn’t need any encouragement, he’s nearly cumming in his pants from the sight of your pussy alone. if he could he’d take a polaroid of it and keep it in his pocket forever.

rafe is a man possessed, pushing you up the sofa length to make space for him between your legs, he hikes one up the cushions to rest on the back of the sofa, the other onto his shoulder so he can fit between them. you don’t even know if you exist to him any more because he’s smiling at your pussy like it’s his girlfriend instead. he shoves his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, it’s honey to his senses and his eyes flutter shut at how good you smell. then his tongue flattens against your pussy and he might just cry. you gasp at the feeling, wet and hard across your opening and clit, so brief you think you imagined it. rafe moans at the taste, let’s you coat his tongue before he goes back in for seconds, swirling his tongue along your weeping cunt until he’s thoroughly cleaned his plate. he’s moaning at your taste, tears pricking his eyes as it stains the back of his teeth, his hands grip your waist to drive you down to his tongue. he knows you’re gonna run from it, you always do. finally his tongue fills you up, delving into and cleaning you out, the feeling of the muscle squirming inside you makes you writhe in pleasure. “taste so fucking good, never letting this go again,” he slurs into you. you can feel yourself get wet again and he feels precum stain his boxers as more of your ichor slips down his throat. it’s not enough, he wants more, his right hand joins in, one finger curling into you along with his tongue and his thumb idly swirls along your clit. the combination of his tongue and finger fucking you and his drunken moans, make you come on his tongue embarrassingly fast. you’re gushing into his mouth more and rafe doesn’t even budge when you push at his forehead, the overstimulation stings and your poor walls flutter around his tongue, trying to drive him out, he only goes crazier. his tongue slips out a trail of saliva and your slick connecting him to you before he attaches his lips to your clit. you shake at the sensation, not yet come down from your previous orgasm. he sucks and laves over your clit, setting your body aflame. he takes the opportunity to slip another finger in, stretching you more than anything in the past two weeks, and he can tell your pussy is going to feel amazing on his cock. you’re struggling to take two fingers and he can’t help but moan at the thought. you hate how quickly he brings you to your next orgasm, your legs threatening to close around him and he makes a noise of disapproval. your mind feels numb now and you jump at his touches. rafe gives you a few seconds to recover, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, but when he tastes you again it’s not his fault he needs another hit. you’re a bit shocked yourself when he releases his hold on your legs and sits back. your wide round eyes making him chuckle at your disbelief. “you’re gonna sit on my face baby.” he resounds and you blink at him twice before sitting up, you wince at the way you’re drooling onto the couch and how you suddenly feel empty. rafe positions himself with his head poised for your pussy to sit on. you gawk at him.

“won’t i crush you?” besides your question you’re raised up ob your knees almost hovering over him, he could just-

“shut the fuck up.” he pulls you close and pushes your hips down to sit you down himself, your sloppy cunt meeting his lips and he’s in heaven. he wants to die like this, suffocated by your pussy. you try to shift your weight back onto your knees but he doesn’t let you, holding you down by your ass. when he licks up into you, you lose your resolve entirely. if he was a mess before, now he’s a goner. he’s spitting up into you, making out with your cunt and swirling his tongue along you, along every inch he can. your rock your cunt over his face, lost in pleasure and when his nose bumps your clit your legs nearly close on his head, he groans at the pressure. you’re practically dripping into his mouth and it’s all he could ask for; tears falling down his face just mix in with the mess of liquids running down his face and pooling on his neck and chest. you continue to rock against him, your cushiony thighs closing around his head and rafe feels himself twitch in his pants, he’s so fucking close just from eating you out. but he can’t even find it in him to care, no he’s crying from how good you taste, he’s past the point of caring. when you finally cum around his tongue he comes in his pants, moaning as you scream his name. you’re shaking uncontrollably, riding out your orgasm and thrashing along his face. your thighs press tightly against his head and he continues to drink you in, until finally your legs give out and you fall off him.

“pussy so good i came in my pants and you’re gonna clean it up.” you look at him in a daze, your body moving on its own accord, moving to your knees on the carpet. your body’s shaking but you still manage to claw at his buttons. “good girl.” he smiles down at you, chin and lips wet from your release and he’s not even dreaming of wiping himself clean, he wants it to stain him, seep into his pores. a whine crawls up your throat as you work his pants off, he’s sitting on the couch in front of you and you want to help him so badly. his cock finally springs free and he breathes out in relief, the cool air making him more sensitive after his release. the worst part is he’s still fucking hard. your eyes round at the sight of him, come lining his length, dribbling down the veins and blushed pink top. it’s so pretty you can’t help but stare. rafe slips a hand around your face, pulling you in, making you stop your staring and instead get to work. you might be drooling from the sight, it’s hard to tell because your mouth closes around him and everything is already so wet. a sick squelch resounds in the air as you lick up and down his length, he fights the urge to thrust into the wet tight heat of your mouth. you make sure to clean up his balls, your hand jerking him off while you’re down there, “fuck you’re doing so well baby.”

“missed this rafey” you hum at the taste of his come, thick and gooey on your tongue and the vibration makes him twitch in your mouth. rafe feels so close already, you’ve already cleaned him up, now you’re just cock drunk, taking him down as far as you can and pressing kisses to his tip. he doesn’t want it to end like this no, he’d rather fill you up properly, so he pulls your head off his length with a pop! and you glare at him and whine, like an insolent puppy whose toy was taken away. there’s a delicious sting from the hair he pulled and heat pools in your stomach again, you can’t tell if you’re wet or if it’s rafe’s saliva you like to think it’s both.

“come here.” rafe hoists you onto his lap, giving you two seconds to adjust before he lifts you both up and makes his way to your bedroom. his shirt comes off along with yours and you clamber up the length of your mattress to rest your head on your pillow while you still can. from how angry and hard his cock still is you know it’s gonna be a long night.

“remember your safe word right?” rafe flips you over, your momentary comfort gone just like that, he presses against your back hard. your ass perks into the air while he arches you just so. he’s waiting for your response, because one look at your pussy, glistening from another wave of desire, rafe knows he’s going to find it impossible to hold back. he’s vibrating with a need to fuck you already, dribbles of precum spurting out of him against his stomach. what a waste, there’s a perfect little hole that could use it. he smacks your ass once, lightly just to remind you to use your words.

“yes, fuck me please.” your voice is muffled against your bedsheets, but he hears it perfectly. when his tip presses against your tight hole, he thinks he might be religious. not to god or anything else, just you. you’re sucking in him, holding your cheeks apart for him like you know he likes and he groans at how you feel like silk around him. your cunt’s so warm and tight, rafe thinks he might never leave you again. once his tip is in you remember how to breathe, the initial stretch finally over. he can’t give you the time you need to adjust, he might start crying again, or worse come early. rafe pushes the rest of his inches in, bullying his way in, pressing you into the mattress just so your cunt could give in. you scream at the feeling of him being all the way in, the angle making him nestle against your g-spot while his tip rubs against your cervix. you feel ropes of pre spurt inside you and you feel tears slip down your cheeks from the pain, you know it hurts, you just can’t find it in you to care.

“s’good,” you’re mind is numb, the only thoughts are spiraling around your boyfriend and his stupid long cock. a sick ring of come and your slick circles the base of his length, his pubes soaked from both of you. he can’t hold back any more, not when you’re wiggling your hips for more. rafe pulls out all the way and slaps back into you, pulling you into him just so he can really fill you all the way. the force of his thrust and the way he tip nudges along your walls, grazing where you needed him most, as you screaming in pleasure, your poor pussy closing on him just so he can stay inside. not that it matters he’s hammering in and out of you so fast you think you might get whiplash. his hips drive you down into the mattress, stuffing you as much he can so you don’t run from it, like you’re already trying to do.

“fuck fuck fuck! too much hng rafe i can’t-“ the slap of his hips against yours are almost bruising, he’s pulling you back by a tight hold around you and it’s hard to breathe. there’s a pressure building in you that you don’t recognize and it’s almost painful how bad it feels to go unaddressed, something must be wrong. but rafe can feel himself getting close, just from your pathetic whines and screams.

“you can and you will.” there’s no room for argument when he’s flipping you onto your back, your head jostling and you blink away the tears in your eyes. you want to see him, want to look into his pretty eyes, rafe can’t help but laugh at your desperate expression. no, he’s no too far gone.

“dumb little girl, i could tell you were turned on, you know?” he maneuvers you onto your side, spooning you and pulling your leg over his so he can slip back in. the new angle steals your breath as you try to focus on what he just said, panic seeping into your system.

“wh-no i wasn’t.” you shake your head insolently, he’s rolling his eyes at your meager denial. his thrusts start out slow, testing the limits of how far he can reach, and it’s not far. a huff of annoyance teases the shell of your ear and you gulp at his proximity.

“tell me the truth and i’ll let you come.” it’s a whisper, soft and sweet, you know what’s to come will be anything but.

“fine! you looked so hot covered in blood-“ he grabs under your knee and lifts it up, slamming deeper into you cutting you off. “oh my god-“ rafe can’t handle not being all the way in, he loves the way his head kisses your cervix, how his veins have molded you to fit them, how he can feel come slipping out of you and dribbling down his length since there’s no space for anything. an addiction, one that he won’t give up. “that doesn’t make it-rafe!-okay!” you manage to get out between thrusts

“yeah yeah i get it.” he’s had enough of your lecturing, the arm that’s not holding your knee, loops around your front, closing around your neck and throat. his thick bicep presses against you in a headlock and he leverages the tight grip to pull you back into him, shutting you up finally. the only sounds that can be heard are of your pretty pussy squelching and gasping for him to be back inside. there’s the occasional moan from you when his grip loosens and the curses and groans from him, but mostly the room sounds like a porno. you’re not sure if you came or you ever stopped coming but your pussy feels warm and fuzzy, like it’s just given up on trying to decipher pleasure and pain.

“can’t come-fuck-need to” rafe frustrates himself with how quickly he feels like he needs to come. his balls are pinched tight, aching for release but he can’t stop, he needs to make it right, make it perfect. rafe won’t admit it anyone else but he’s so in love with you he hates coming without looking in your eyes. his hold on your neck releases and you slump forward tears and drool staining the mattress.

“pretty baby, you’ll give me one more yeah?” somehow rafe knows when you’re cumming, you stopped noticing. you nod dumbly, blurry eyes vaguely make out his face as he finally lets you rest on your back. your body aches and your legs haven’t stopped shaking, but you still welcome him with open legs. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead, shoving into you again, his thrusts aren’t so hurried this time, he’s savoring it. the slow drag of his tip inside of you warms you. you stop crying when he lifts your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, he wipes your tears and kisses down into you. the position is familiar, one of your favorites, and you kiss him back, it’s salty and messy but you can taste the words i love you.

“most beautiful girl in the world, fuck ,how did i get so lucky?” he peppers your face with kisses, giggles erupting from your lips and he can’t believe you’re his.

“love you rafey.” you say it so sweetly anyone would think he’s not 9 inches deep inside you, in a mean mating press.

“i love you angel, can i come inside?” your eyes light up, you both rarely do it since birth control is horrible on your body, but you can’t help but love how it feels.

“please…fill me up.” the words make his dick twitch inside you, more precum dribbling out of your cunt.

“fuckkk gonna get you pregnant, then everyone will know you’re mine.” he’s mumbling to himself, rocking back and forth and a whine leaves your lips. you should be concerned with how possessive your boyfriend is, you know that, but the image he paints in your head is too tempting.

“please.” you kiss his right arm that supports his weight next to your head and he smiles down at you. rafe takes it as his signal to pull out and fuck down into you, your mind blanks. it doesn’t take more than a few hard thrusts for the pressure building inside you to finally snap, seeing white under your eyes as you gasp and scream his name. you’re squirting onto him before you realize it, soaking his chest and dick and he keeps fucking you through it until you stop. rafe can’t help but lose himself as you do it, fucking down so brutally you think he might rip your cervix, if it’s even possible, the overstimulation claws at your senses and you fight the urge to push him away, scratching down his back instead. rafe feels his balls pinch and he can’t hold back any longer, you’re pulsing around him riding out your orgasm and he shoots gooey ropes inside of you. thick and never ending, coating your walls and slipping out the sides, the angle at least keeps most of it in, just like he wants it.

“can’t believe you squirted.” when he finally stops spurting into you, he pulls out, your legs falling to your side as you wince at the aches in your body. without the cloud of pleasure you can feel how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

“sorry” you mumble, turning to where he lays beside you and he shakes his head.

“nah baby i’m gonna make you do it every time.” a wolfish smirk graces his features and you decide you’ll never do a sex ban again. you won’t survive it next time.

[goldfades]

sweet on you Joe thanking his wife during his MVP speech when he wins pretty pretty pleaseeeee

omg yes! this idea has been floating around as soon as you sent this ask. hope you enjoy!!! sweet on you will be back i promise, just need the motivation to finish :) and yes in this universe he DID win mvp

MVP SPEECH FT. SWEET ON YOU

The stadium was deafening. Fans roared, confetti rained down in gold and white, and the cameras were all on him—Joe Burrow, the newly crowned MVP, standing under the bright lights, trying to keep himself together.

He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, exhaling a slow breath as he adjusted the microphone in front of him. The trophy was heavy in his other hand, but it wasn’t the weight of the metal that had his chest tight—it was everything leading up to this moment. The years of hard work, the sacrifices, the unwavering support from those who had been there since the beginning. And more than anyone else, it was her.

Joe cleared his throat, the noise dying down just a fraction as he leaned in. “Man,” he started, shaking his head with a small, breathless laugh. “This is—this is crazy. I don’t even know where to start.”

The crowd cheered again, cameras flashing, but his eyes weren’t searching for them. They were searching for her.

And then he found her.

Sitting in the front row, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes glassy and bright, looking at him like he had just hung the damn moon.

His wife.

His whole world.

Joe swallowed hard, gripping the mic a little tighter. “Obviously, there’s a long list of people I need to thank—my teammates, my coaches, my family. None of this happens without you guys. But, uh—” he huffed out a soft, nervous laugh, shaking his head before glancing at her again. “There’s one person in particular who—God, I don’t even know if I have the words.”

The crowd fell a little quieter, as if they could sense this was something important.

Joe smiled, softer now, and only for her.

“My wife,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been with me through everything. Before all of this—before the trophies, before the headlines, before anyone knew my name. You believed in me when I was just some kid with a dream. You stood by me through every high, every low, every doubt I ever had about myself. And somehow, through it all, you loved me.”

She was already crying, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe him, even though she should have known by now just how much he meant every word.

Joe chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he glanced down at the trophy for a second, then back up at her. “I know I work a lot, and I know there have been nights where football took me away more than it should have. But not once—not once—have you ever made me feel like I was in this alone. And I need you to know—I need everyone to know—that I wouldn’t be standing up here if it weren’t for you.”

A collective aww rippled through the audience, but Joe didn’t even hear it. He was locked in, focused only on her, watching as she wiped at her cheeks, smiling like she wanted to scold him for making her cry in public.

“And Hayes,” he added, his voice hitching just slightly at the mention of their son. “Our boy. I hope one day, when he’s old enough to understand all of this, he knows just how lucky he is to have a mom like you.”

She let out a teary laugh, covering her mouth again, and Joe grinned.

“I love you,” he said simply, his heart in his throat. “More than football. More than anything.”

The crowd erupted in cheers again, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the way she looked at him in that moment, like he was the greatest thing she had ever seen. Like she had always known he was capable of this, long before he ever did.

And when he stepped down from the stage a few moments later, trophy in one hand, the other reaching for her, she was already there—waiting, arms open, eyes shining, love pouring out of her like a flood.

She kissed him, right there in front of everyone, not caring about the cameras or the eyes on them.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured against his lips, laughing softly as she pulled back just enough to look at him.

Joe grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I meant every word.”

And when he kissed her again, the whole world could have disappeared, and he wouldn’t have cared. Because this—she—was his greatest victory of all.

[zevrra]

Virgin!Jayce NEEDS to eat pussy he's DYING he's DEHYDRATED

(no bc when i tell you he’s such a munch i can’t ,,,)

like virgin!jayce who’s never even thought about eating out anyone before and when you explain to him what to do, he’s so so eager to please you. watches from down on his knees as you strip before him, eyes sparkling, mouth slightly open as he watches every piece of clothing crumple and fold as you remove it. eagerly waits for you to give him the green light and when you do; oh he’s so tender. he starts by placing kisses against the inside of your knee, slowly moving his lips and hands along your skin, seeking deeper and deeper between your thighs. and when he’s finally, finally, reached his destination he tries his hardest not to pant.

holds his breath, flicking his pretty gaze up to you for one last confirmation, before he’s timidly swiping his thumb through the wet folds of your cunt. watching with fixation as your slick pools around the pad of his thumb and dribbles down his tan skin…and he’s suddenly in love. his mouth waters at the sight as he leans forward to lick a thick trail from the bottom curve of your core to the very tip. and the second he hits your clit, causing you to jerk, jayce is a little scared he’s done something wrong…until he hears you sweetly moan his name.

and then it’s like something comes over him. he’s slipping his tongue right against you cunt, lapping between your slick folds with every shift of his jaw. curling his tongue around your clit again just to hear those pretty, fluttering moans that slip past your lips. all the while the taste of you is intoxicating to him. turns his mind into mush. his brain is practically an empty canvas, colored with only the thought of pleasing you and nothing else; even when he’s hard as a rock he doesn’t touch himself. he wants to, so bad, but the way your body twitches and convulses when he sucks hard against your cunt…the thought of his own pleasure is running down the drain.

he’d only touch himself if you told him to but he’d have to be a good boy first and please you thoroughly.

[luvyeni]

LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify

you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?

“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.

“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.

he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.

“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”

“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”

“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.

“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’

he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”

“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”

“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”

he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.

“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”

“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”

“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”

as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”

you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”

he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”

you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.

“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”

haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”

“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?

the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”

the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”

he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”

he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”

the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”

he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”

he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”

he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”

he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.

“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”

it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.

“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”

“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.

he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

©️LUVYENI

[hoshifighting]

Olá Lyla Recently i saw a tweet saying that for us girls when reaching the climax the best is to take deep breathes instead of tensing up and then i saw someone say that the best thing that a man has ever told her was "breathe baby..." so... how would experienced seventeen members "teach" you this while in naughty time???? love you girllll <3

seventeen asking you to breath before an orgasm

A/N: hello my luv!! ❤️🧚🏼‍♀️ it may sound a bit repetitive, but i tried my best to give each one a nuance! 👍 AND YES!!! this is the sexiest thing a man can do, only after being being loyal 😩

seungcheol: "baby, slow down. breathe with me." voice so soft, but his grip on your hips is firm, making sure you stay in rhythm with him. he watches you, eyes dark, waiting for you to listen. when you finally let out that shaky exhale, body melting just the way he needs, he grins "yeah, that’s it. just like that." he’ll keep guiding you through it.

jeonghan: "shhh, there you go, breathe, my love." he smirks at first when he notices you tensing, then he’s softening, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them open. "breathe for me, sweetheart." he hums in satisfaction, kissing the breath right from your lips like a reward. he’s soooooo patient.

joshua: "baby, take a deeeeep breath. i got you." he’s soooooo reassuring, holding you close, rocking into you at a pace that forces you to feel everything. "don’t rush it, just breathe." and when you finally do, when your body stops fighting the pleasure, he leans in, whispering, "that’s my good girl."

junhui: "you’re holding your breath, baby. relax, yeah?" he notices immediately, and his hands are everywhere, smoothing over your body, making sure you feel him, not just the overwhelming build-up. "trust me, just let go." and when you finally exhale, he smirks, feeling the way you melt beneath him. "mm, there she is."

hoshi: "breathe, baby. just feel me." the second he feels you start to lock up, his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you wiiiide open for him. "don’t fight it, just breathe."

wonwoo: "baby, you’re shaking. slow breaths, okay?" he’s so gentle about it, barely pulling back to look at you, his hands guiding you through the pace he knows you need. " just relax, love." and when you finally exhale, unclenching, letting yourself have it, he murmurs, "there you go, that’s my girl."

woozi: "deep breaths, baby. i know it’s a lot." he’s actually teasing you tho!! but his voice is cooing and warm. he can feel the way you’re holding back, so he leans in "don’t hold out on me. just breathe, let me take care of you".

minghao: "no, no, baby, don’t run from it. just breathe." his hands LOCK you in place, not letting you escape what he’s giving you. his voice is so confident, like he knows what’s best for you. and when you finally obey, letting the pleasure fully wash over you, he smiles lazyly, satisfied. "good girl."

mingyu: "breathe, sweetheart, i got you." sweet, but there’s an edge to it, a knowing grin as he watches you struggle to keep up. he knows it’s too much, knows you’re about to cum, but he holds you steady, whispering soft reassurances until you finally let go.

seokmin: "don’t be shy, baby. deep breaths, you’re doing so good." he’s so tender, so encouraging, his kisses never stopping as he guides you through it. "told you it’d feel even better."

seungkwan: "you’re holding your breath again, love. breathe with me." he actually demonstrates, exaggerating a deep inhale, waiting for you to copy him. and when you do, when your body responds exactly how he knew it would, he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "fuck, that’s it."

vernon: "babe, don’t fight it. just breathe." he actually grounds you. his lips find yours, his hands roaming, making sure you feel safe, feel wanted. when you finally let yourself sink into it, he smirks, whispering, "knew you’d feel even better if you listened."

chan: "deep breaths, baby. lemme take care of you." his grip tightens just slightly, his pace slowing, forcing you to actually feel each thrust. he kisses you through it, holding you as you finally cum. "see? you just needed to relax."

[navybrat817]

Just.... Bucky getting on his knees and begging "honey, open your legs please" like he's a man that's been starving for months, him breathing and tasting through the panties because he's that impatient.

I love this so much, nonnie.

Sweet Like Honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky begs to have a taste when he gets home.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, established relationship, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: This feels like Feral Bucky. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat on the couch fifteen minutes ago. You closed your eyes five minutes ago. It amazed you that you hadn't fallen asleep with how tired you were from your long day, but Bucky would be home shortly and you wanted to curl up with him before you dozed off. He’d find it sweet, and so would you.

You should've known he’d have other ideas.

“Hey, Bucky,” you mumbled when you heard his deliberate footsteps. When he didn't answer you cracked an eye open. “Bucky?” you asked, watching him toss his jacket away and flex his hands. He had a familiar look in his blue eyes. Not quite feral, but close.

Oh, he was hungry.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way with his foot and bent down to kiss your lips. Soft, but desperate, so it didn't surprise you when he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Honey, open your legs,” he demanded in a dark, deep voice once he pushed your dress up. One that made you grip the cushions when he rested his hands on your knees. “Please.”

“Well, hello to you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but your smile was affectionate. What had him so wound up? “At least you said please.”

“I did, now please open your legs,” he demanded again, but it wasn't as forceful. You heard a hint of desperation, the same kind you tasted on his lips when he kissed you. “I’m already on my knees.”

“You are,” you agreed and you loved how badly he wanted you. “But why should I open my legs for you? I’m pretty tired.”

His mouth fell open. You never passed up an opportunity for him to pleasure you, and you’d let him eat as much as his heart desired. But you wanted to hear him beg a little for it for no reason at all.

“Because I'm horny and hungry and your pussy is the only thing that’ll satisfy me,” he answered, looking at where your legs were still together. “C’mon. Pussy’s so good. I need it. I crave it. Soft as silk, sweet like honey.”

You moaned. They were good reasons. “Tempting, tempting, but you just ate my pussy yesterday,” you reminded him, which earned you an offended look from the love of your life.

“Yesterday. An entire day ago. Your pussy needs me,” he snarled, his fingers sliding to your thighs and digging in. “Or should I say my pussy?”

“Easy, tiger. We both know it’s yours,” you teased, burying a hand in his hair and making him groan when you tugged on the strands. His words could turn you into molten lava, and you were wet the second he dropped to his knees. “But opening my legs doesn't address the fact that I'm tired. You understand that.”

He smirked when your legs opened an inch. “I’m sorry you're tired, but making you feel good is the perfect way to get you to sleep. I’ll get you off on my tongue and fingers… Make you pass out when I get my cock in you.” He sounded wrecked as your thighs parted more, your core . “And I’ll carry you to bed and wrap you in a warm blanket.”

“And you’ll cuddle with me, too? If you’re demanding that I open up, I demand some cuddles,” you said. He’d cuddle with you even if you didn't demand it.

“Cuddle, snuggle, curl up with you, spoon you, can even keep me cock warm while I hold you,” he rattled off, smirking when you bit your lip. “Just let me eat, please.”

You hummed. It was tempting. And how many people could say a super soldier begged for just a taste of them? To fuck them? “Just how hungry are you and for what reason?”

Bucky licked his lips when you completely opened your legs and showed him your clothed cunt. “Fucking hungry and for no reason at all except your existence,” he growled.

You made a small noise when he dove in and inhaled, your face nearly burning from how hot it felt when he licked and tugged impatiently at the wet fabric with his teeth. “Bucky!”

“Told you. ‘m fucking hungry.” He licked the fabric again with a growl and nudged your clit with his nose. “God, you’re so wet for me. Need it on my tongue. Need it on my cock.”

“Fuck…” you whimpered. He wanted your pussy so badly he couldn't even wait for a proper taste. “Okay, you can eat.” He had begged enough in your eyes.

“Fucking finally.”

You scoffed. “Finally? You just-”

He ripped your underwear off and left you bare, drawing another breathless sound from you at the first touch of his mouth on your damp folds. He brought his hands to your hips and pulled you closer so he could open you up with his tongue, his broad shoulders keeping your legs apart. You nearly lost it when he plunged it deep inside and licked around your walls, his throaty moan making you shudder. Every lick and caress made you feel like you’d melt into the couch. The sensations were overwhelming, especially since your senses went from dull to heightened.

“Beautiful,” he rumbled.

“We both are,” you smiled. He made you feel beautiful, and he sure as fuck looked beautiful between your thighs.

“And I’m so…” His thumb on your clit had you pulling his hair. “Fucking…” You tightened around the finger that slipped inside your tight channel. “Hungry.”

There was no getting between Bucky and his meal. No stopping him once he had a taste, his fingers and mouth tender even as he devoured you. It almost didn't seem fair some days. All you had to do was flash your tits or spread your legs and the ex-assassin was lost to the world. Even after a long day you got to lay back while he pleasured you simply because he wanted you. You reaped all the benefits, came every time.

You’d make sure he came, too, before the night was over.

“You… really are hungry,” you moaned, your back arching when another finger. Bucky wasn't just an enthusiastic lover. He was attentive. He knew what made you tick and how to make you let go. “Fuck! There! Please!”

“Music to my ears, and you really do taste like fucking honey.” He gazed up at you with a smirk on his wet lips as his fingers curled. You tasted yourself on his lips before and it tasted nothing like honey, but who were you to argue when he enjoyed it so much? “Melt for me and I’ll carry you to bed on my cock.”

It didn't take you long to reach your peak of pleasure once his mouth was back on you, your thighs shaking and his name leaving your lips in a cry. He hummed and groaned as he tasted your release like it was the most delicious treat he ever had. You were aware that he called you a good girl as your vision blurred, and he also said he loved you as you rode out your orgasm. He may have even apologized for the “lack of foreplay”.

But as he carried you to bed with a kiss to your forehead and his cock buried inside you as promised, you knew he’d more than make that up to you.

The man needs you, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kamospeach]

just hold on we're going home .ᐟ

plot: husband!nanami who doesn't like when his wife get's too drunk.

content warning: alcohol use, strict nanami, oral m!recieving, face fucking, lil spitting, messy messy, choking, restraint, daddy kink sorry not sorry, mating press, backshots, stomach bulging :P, breeding kink, breeding, lots and lots of dirty talk

peachy's yap: wc 3.4k.ᐟ nanami's such a gentleman you dont get in trouble until the day after LMFAO. shoko’s my lil fruity pop :D! i might have lied about posting yesterday, but sza is my fav so. birds of a feather...

if nanami asked whose idea it was he knew you'd lie. it started very calmly your girls begged to have a girl's night. nanami started taking off to spend more time with you so you had been up under him for the past month. you offered up your home for the girl's night to which nanami agreed.

but he didn't think you'd kick him out once the night came. he thought he could stay in your bed and eat what you bring him from your girlie snacks. watch murder mystery and finish some leftover work. boy was he wrong, the minute your girls walked in you pushed him out the door.

he stood at the door shock written all over his face as you stood in your pink versace robe. you smiled wide, eyes crinkling at the corner looking at your husband. he was trying to be mad at you but your big white smile swayed him.

"i thought i could stay," he said his tone tugging on your heartstrings. you frowned giving him a peck on the lips promising you’d save him a big plate. letting him know he was free to come home at 12. he was taken aback at your audacity but he knew you deserved it.

he sucked it up and made his way to gojo’s house knowing somebody was there. if not everyone. since gojo couldn’t fathom being alone for longer than 30 minutes. just as he thought geto, shoko, yuji, and now he were sitting on gojo’s couch playing games. but all nanami could think about was you.

“she really kicked you out?” shoko asked sipping on a drink. nanami just nodded not even wanting to talk about it. he was in denial that you wanted him out THAT bad.

“i’m surprised your not there shoko,” gojo said and shoko smacked her lips. she was clearly upset about getting banned from girls night.

“last time i went they said i kept kissing on my girl too much,” she said leaning back with her arms crossed. it was awkward enough that his friend’s girlfriends randomly became your friends. (he’s still trying to figure out when y’all had the time to become friends) but now when you had girl’s night the only place he could take refuge at was at the house of the person who annoyed him the most.

"pretty sure the point is to be away from their significant other anyways, i don’t know." geto shrugged clearly as distressed as nanami about being away from his girlfriend.

4 hours in they tried to get him to drink but he couldn’t even look at the bottles. too busy replaying your instagram story over and over. he had to admit, him taking off and spending more time with you made him feel like you two were newlyweds all over again.

technically he could blame these feelings on you since you asked him to take off. now he was here bored and annoyed with gojo’s loud talking and shoko’s ranting about her girlfriend who was having just as much fun as you.

another hour in his cheek rested on his palm as he watched the graphics fly across the tv screen. that was until shoko got a call that made her stand up quickly.

“nanami we gotta go,” she said and nanami looked at her bewildered.

"for what?" he asked and shoko was just rushing to grab her stuff.

"y/n drunk off her ass and my girl crying cause she miss me," she said laughing and nanami raised a brow.

"is my girl good?" geto asked and shoko nodded.

"i'll bring them here, but y/n needs to go home," shoko said looking at nanami who still had a confused look on his face. "what?"

"they didn't have any alcohol..." nanami said and all the men plus shoko looked at each other.

"so where are they?" gojo asked looking at his girl's location and his jaw dropped. "they at the club," he said and that was all nanami needed to hear before he quickly made his way out of gojo's penthouse.

shoko followed behind him with a light jog to keep up with his fast menacing steps. everyone else stayed behind while they sent the good cop and bad cop to do their dirty work.

he had never driven this recklessly in his life. he was pushing 100 on the highway swerving in and out of cars. making a park in a no parking to get to you. the line outside the club wrapped around the building but he didn't care. ready to argue with the bouncer who pushed him back.

"can you just let me in my wife's in there drunk?" he pleaded and the bouncer shook his head.

"wassup shoko." the bouncer said dapping up shoko letting her in. "aw he with you? why you ain't say that man c'mon." he said letting him in the club. nanami gave the man a sickening glare not liking how that went down.

"there they go right there!" shoko shouted over the music pointing to the group of girls. you stood on the couch singing to the music in the same robe from earlier. when you noticed nanami you squealed climbing down from the couch and running over to him.

"are you here to party with me?" you asked and he gave you a blank stare. you knew what he was there for but you rather act stupid which only fueled his anger more.

"you know what i am here for y/n," he said and you looked by at your 3 friends who were being gathered by shoko. you slowly turned back to nanami with a guilty smile. "yeah." he said grabbing your hand and you followed behind him. did you know you were in trouble? yes. did you care though? not really.

"ken wait i have on slippers." you said and he huffed picking you up. "ooo so manly." you laughed kicking your feet and accidentally hitting someone. the man turned around glaring at the both of you.

"not tonight man please." he begged the man who looked at your drunken state nodding at nanami apologetically. "then you got on the robe i got you. for your birthday, our matching ones?" he scoffed at your audacity to wear it outside.

"sorry." you laughed as he placed you in the seat. the minute the door closed that was the last nanami heard from you. you were knocked out from the time y'all hit the highway to the next morning.

your head was pounding as you sat up seeing two pills a glass of water and a note. quickly taking the pills with no hesitation, after you read the note.

take the pills. breakfast is in the microwave. you're NOT off the hook.

-K

considering the "NOT" was underlined not once not twice but three times you knew you had it coming. still, you decided to make sure what you were reading was indeed correct.

you: okay so you are mad at me?

ken💛: You read it.

you: so yes or no?

ken💛: Or.

you nodded to yourself seeing how he was going to be. although you were in the wrong you were going to drag this situation. well, you were gonna try, but honestly, you were shitting bricks all day. you cleaned the living room from the previous night and even the kitchen. you busied yourself with laundry and baking cakes and cookies. totally NOT to beg nanami to forgive you.

it didn't help after you replied with a '?' nanami left you on read. he was later than his usual 6pm that he was working nowadays. you sat on the couch watching real housewives as your leg bounced faster than your head spun. as you were just about to relax the lock clicked.

you thickly swallowed your spit as the door creaked open and nanami walked through the door. being a suck up you ran over to him helping him with his jacket and folding it over your arm as nanami loosened up his tie.

he was angry with you, yes but he couldn't deny how sexy you looked in your short gown. that only went half past your thigh the lace at the bottom enticing him.

your cocoa-buttered legs smooth from your everything shower you took two hours ago. nanami wanted to forgive right there and stuff his face in your thighs while he sloppily ate your pussy. but he couldn't do that, you were getting too comfortable and he couldn't let that happen.

"i made salmon for dinner and cake and cookies for dessert." you smiled and he hummed kissing your lips. you both sat at the table eating the dinner you made.

"so," he said wiping his mouth and leaning back. he had finished his food and you looked up from your plate.

"did you want dessert i can make you a-," you said standing only to be stopped by nanami's stern voice. he didn't use that often with you so he meant business.

"sit down," he said and you gulped loudly returning back to your seat.

"i'll give you one time to lie to me." he said and you furrowed your brows not sure what he meant. "why did you guys go to a club?"

"okay, so funny story actually. we were watching tiktoks and we saw a friend group go to a club in pajamas. so we were like hey we're in our pajamas so let's just go." you explained finding that answer easy.

"so why were you drunk like that?" he asked and you sighed, nanami didn't mind you drinking. but he always lectured you about being drunk to the point you weren't worried about your surroundings. last night you were definitely drunk past being aware of your surroundings.

"they just kept bringing out shots, peer pressure i guess." it was the truth the more shots they brought the less you cared about your husband's lectures. he hummed at your answer and he leaned up resting his elbows on the table while his cheek sat on his fist.

"and whose idea was this?" when he asked this you gave him the exact reaction he expected. your eyes looked everywhere but he knew this would be your reaction. "speak up."

"mine," you said as he stood up, nodding, and walking over to you. your eyes followed his every move your eyes trained on his veiny arms as he rolled up his sleeves.

"give me one reason you shouldn't be in trouble. for not telling me where you were going, getting fucking wasted, and acting a fool," he said and you nod as he listed off the things you dad like he was reading your sentencing for a crime.

although nanami was a soft husband he really did hate being mean to you. he was controlling you were free to do whatever you wanted as long as you told him. he didn't have many rules so for you to break two reasonable rules was insane to him. the 'acting a fool' accusation didn't matter to him he just threw that in for dramatics.

"w...well for one you love me." you smiled up at nanami who licked his lips with a slow nod as he unbuckled his pants.

"on your knees," he said clearly not satisfied with your answer. you were quick to get on your knees doing whatever he wanted. nanami being himself didn't start until he checked you were okay. "it hurts?" he asked and you shook your head grabbing at his waistband.

"mm mm." you hummed pulling his pants and underwear down. he popped your hand like a kid in a cookie jar.

"no hands, if you don't listen i'll use the belt., he said and you knew he meant it. your hands went behind your back as nanami's thick cock slapped against your face. "i'm not holding back tonight so if it's too much you know what to say."

before you even had the chance to reply to him his dick was down your throat. you gagged as both his hands found their way to your hair gripping your braids tightly. he fucked your face so hard spit was bubbling around his cock. your eyes water as nanami's thrust into your mouth.

"fuck sweetheart..." he groaned under his breath as his hips kept up the pace. you pushed at his legs and he stopped his thrust. "you're doing so good so i'll give you one last chance to move your hands." he said and you complied. he knew you were okay because you'd tap him if you couldn't take it.

"mmmmm," you hummed getting turned on just by his grunts and groans as his cockhead roughly hit the back of your throat. his dick twitching in your throat as he was getting closer and closer to his climax.

"since you're being a good girl i'll... hah... let you pick where you want it," he grunted still roughly fucking your throat. he pulled out your mouth jerking himself as he looked down at your teary eyes. mascara running down your pretty brown cheeks that would be painted red if not for your melanin.

"my face," you said not needing to even think about where you wanted it.

"s'fucking nasty wanting me to cum in your face pretty girl." nanami couldn't deny how good you looked as he stroked himself over your face. his head thrown back his lip tucked into his teeth as he grunted releasing all over your face. his white hot cum painting your face.

he roughly gripped your chin wiping his cum from your lips and your cheek. he pushed his thumb into your already open mouth. you lips latch on his thumb sucking all his thick and salty cum off his finger. licking around your lips making sure you got all that you could off your face.

he leaned down and grabbed the back of your neck kissing you roughly. you grabbed his now wrinkled dress shirt pulling him on top of you. sure the ground wasn't the cleanest place but it was the dining room rug. nanami smirked down at your urgency.

"you can't be in that big of a rush to get punished sweetheart." he laughed and you gulped at his sinister smirk. usually, he held a nonchalant expression but at this moment you could read his expressions. he leaned down sloppily kissing your lips and pushing his spit into your mouth.

"i just need you," you whined and he laughed... he actually laughed at you. it wasn't a hehe-haha laugh no it was almost menacing. he pulled up your nightgown to your waist seeing your soaked panties.

"you were that turned on from just sucking me off? hm?" he asked as he pulled off your panties. you whined when the cool air hit you soaked folds you becoming more needy by the minute.

you were so wet you didn't need foreplay all it took was nanami rubbing his tip against your clit. he let a dribble of spit fall from his lips landing on his cock. he rubbed it coating his cock with your essence and his saliva. using his thumb he pushed himself in only the tip. pulling out just to put the tip back in again.

"kenn~" you couldn't take him teasing you with just the tip. he wanted you to beg him to fuck you and you knew all the things he wanted to hear. you didn't get punished often but when you did you knew exactly what he wanted. "please fuck me m'sorry for not telling you~" you whined.

"what else sweetheart, what else are you sorry for?" he said pushing a little more into you now. he grunted feeling you tighten around him your cunt begging for more.

"m'sorry for getting too drunk and for acting up," you whined your nails gripping at the rug under you. it took everything in you to not run your fingers in his hair or drag your nails down his back. "fuck me pleasepleasepleaseplease can't take it."

"such a good girl." he mewls out pushing into you all the way bottoming out in your soaking pussy. he drowned in your wetness as he began to quickly thrust into you. his hips snapped into you like there was no tomorrow. he loved the way you hugged his cock like you were made just for him.

"you're fucking me so good daddy oh my ngh." you moaned back arching off the rug as his hands rested on the back of your thigh. he pushed them against your chest as his cockhead rubbed against your g-spot. bringing you closer and closer to your climax each time.

"are you close pretty girl? i feel it... i feel you." he whispered and your body twitched under him just from the words he said. "barely even fucked you and you're already creaming on me. look at your mess." he told you and you looked down at his cream-coated cock that was covered in your cream. a wet spot now visible on his khakis that wasn't doing anything but turning him on more.

"m'cumming." you squealed as your orgasm ripped through you. nanami smiling as your hands instinctively went to his thigh pushing him. he wanted you to give him a to tie up your hands with a belt. he knew overstimulating you would do it with no problem.

"i gave you two chances didn't i?" he asked pulling off his belt and making you whine.

"m'sorry it was too much." you pleaded and he shook his head pulling out of you.

"turn around," he said as you slowly flipped over you didn't bother putting an arch in your back. he used his belt as a makeshift cuff restraining your hands behind your back. nanami gripped your hips using his thumbs to fix your arch. "there you go..." he hummed pushing himself into your pussy that was dripping onto the rug beneath you.

"shitttt..." you whined as nanami grabbed your restrained arms tightly. angling his hips up to fuck up into and menacing slow pace.

"get so close ta' cumming every time i get in your wet pussy." he grunted his mouth getting filthier and filthier as he felt your walls flutter around him. he sped up his pulling you back further bullying your pussy.

"ken!" you yelped as his cock bullied its way into your chest, or at least it felt like that. your stomach bulging from his big cock thrusting into your womb. he was a mess drowning in your wetness loving the way you moaned his name. or the way you moaned in general the sound music to his ears.

he was edging closer and closer nutting and he was trying to hold off. but it was undeniable that you both were reaching your second climax in no time. he let go of your restrained hands wrapping both of them around your neck.

he kept up the relentless pace as you yelled out. nanami wasn't used to the rough and super fast-paced fucking. pushing him further over the edge as he grunted making pointed thrusts into you.

"fuck sweetheart i’m about to cum. you'll let me breed this pussy right?" he asked as you nod and he continued roughly pounding into you. "use your words y/n."

"yes bread your pussy." you moaned not even realizing what you said.

"my pussy? hm? you wanna be a mommy? want to be pregnant with my baby?" he was just saying anything as his climax was threatening to rip through him. "shit m’cumming."

"me too," you whimpered as he thrust into you one final time until the two of you came together. he let out a guttural groan as he released in you, his seed spilling out as he still stuffed you full. nanami pulled out letting go of your neck and using his thumb to push his cum back into you.

"you're really going to give me a baby?" he asked out of breath looking you deep in your eyes as he unbuckled the belt. he lifted you up in his lap as you both pressed your foreheads together.

"you always gave me dilf vibes anyway," you whispered and he laughed at your statement.

"i heard milf pussy was the best," he said and you gasped.

"kento that's so inappropriate!" you yelped swatting at his arm. he gawked at your audacity to call him inappropriate.

"sweetheart we just had sex on the floor of our dining room." he said and you covered your ears. "okay sorry." he laughed pecking your lips three times.

and indeed 9 months later you and nanami were the hottest milf and dilf in a 50-mile radius.

[kirbmey]

period cramps with caleb !

💌: sfw, not proofread

it was late in the afternoon when you felt that unmistakable poke in your lower belly, making you yelp as you frowned; period was coming sooner than expected.

standing up with a low sigh leaving your lips you took lazy steps towards caleb’s office, unhappy with the decision of disturbing him even if he was busy.

he already told you many times before since you moved with him that he was more than happy to see you and help with whatever you needed, not minding leaving the paperwork behind for a minute.

“caleb?” you softly call out after knocking on the door, opening it slowly when you heard a faint ‘come in’.

once inside you saw his broad figure typing something away on the keyboard, long fingers working on the keycaps while his arms where decorated with rolled sleeves, showing the metal and vains traveling along his pale skin.

the room was dimly lighted, the setting sunlight illuminating the place with orangey colors, his desk filled with pictures of you two together, or you by yourself; even the little drawings you gifted him from time to time.

you were his little angel and he treasured everything you gave him, even the smallest knickknacks.

sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder what his subordinates would think if they saw how devoted he was to you. caleb always looked so intimidating with his uniform on, his stoic demeanor and clear instructions, but to you he was just a little puppy who wanted to give you nothing but the best.

“what’s wrong, sweets? you need anything?” he immediately asked when he gazed at your smaller frame standing in front of the big tall doors, gesturing you to step closer to him with his metallic hand after turning the monitor off, giving you all of his attention.

your steps towards your lover were quiet, your head hung low in an shy manner. once you were standing in front of him with both your hands fidgeting with the hem of your dress you felt his meaty one hold them, bringing one of them to his mouth, brushing your knuckles with his lips while looking at you from above.

his other hand found its way to you lower back, coaxing you to sit on his lap. once you obliged he noticed the discomfort drawn in your precious features, caressing your cheeks and pampering kisses all over your face, questioning what was the matter again.

“I just got really bad period cramps, that’s all.” you muttered in a whisper, gaining an adorable pout from him. caleb’s warm hand instinctively went down to your lower belly, caressing it in slow circles trying to ease the pain for you.

“want me to get you pads, meds, something sweet? I’ll go to the store to—” you interrupt his rumbling by giving a peck to his juicy lips, giggling at his wide open eyes as a reaction to the bold move. “I don’t need anything, just wanna spend some time with you and cuddle, is that okay?”

he chuckled with rosy cheeks, nodding as he held you tightly between his arms and stood up, making sure everything was turned off before taking you both back to the big couch.

everything turned quiet from there, he left you in the living room searching for a romcom to watch together as he made popcorn and brought ice cream, too. next to some medicines for your occasional pains, of course. caleb also drew the curtains since the sun completely settled and the moon decorated the starry sky, turning on the warm and dim light.

you nuzzled against his chest once you two were cuddled under the fluffy blanket, getting you hips caressed lovingly and your temple kissed from time to time, responding with little imaginary drawings on his chest and your shorter arms hugging him completely.

it didn’t take you long to fall asleep mid movie; he knew that would happen, as always. he just let it be, finishing it by himself and then turning off the television, getting in a more comfortable posture to sleep with you while he brushed your hair with his fingers, a dumb smile decorating his face.

by the morning there were no pains and you woke up to a snoring puppy, feeling happiness take over your being.

💌: I needed to write soft things with caleb without the whole big brother trope cuz sometimes I just wanna act normal yk :<

[engineering-a-better-world]

hmm what have been my worst technology curses?

i couldn’t open my camera app or else colorful static would streak across the screen. i had to reboot the phone to get rid of it every time. i had dropped this phone a few times but it had no cracks or anything

the computer touchscreen would think i was pressing certain spots until i pushed hard on the back of the computer in the corresponding spot

i tried watching something on the basement TV over a decade ago and literally no one can figure out how to get it to work anymore. it turns on and changes inputs and everything but the cable box and DVD player won’t show up

i would get all kinds of weird squares and text on my computer screen sometimes but it would shift or go away if i ran my cursor over those spots. it was like squeegeeing the curse off so i could use those parts of the screen

i tried doing long exposure photography on a nice digital camera and it wouldn’t last longer than a tenth of a second. this type of camera had the capability. i followed all kinds of tutorials for this specific model. no one could fix it for me

my friend was trying to test her temperature while we were on a video call. the thermometer gave an error a half dozen times before i suggested she hang up on me and try again. it worked on the first try. she called me back and it stopped working

i currently can’t charge my computer while using it or else it overheats and goes black. the same happens if Discord is open at the same time as the tab i played DnD on

the number of earbuds, dongles, and charging cords i’ve gone through is truly ludicrous. some kind of wire always comes loose and sometimes i can get things to work but only if i hold everything at the exact perfect angle. we thought the earbud problem would go away if i tried bluetooth earbuds. it took less than a month for one ear to stop working. the next lasted a tad longer but i just ask for the cheap wired earbuds because they’re going to break anyway

so many of my phones and computers were broken in the wildest of ways. someone fell down the stairs and directly onto my school backpack. i tripped over my power cord. i threw a peach pit off a deck and my phone fell out of my pocket and into a puddle, the screen peeling off in the process. somehow the charging cord fused something in my laptop that left it unusable??? this curse has followed me from slide phone to smart phone. i refuse to get anything very fancy. an OtterBox defender case is the most essential item for every phone. i need all the help i can get

i don’t know which technology god i angered in my childhood. my current devices are very kind to me so i hope i’m doing something right

my friend liz downloaded some free audio software a few months ago to do something and now every time she joins a call a female voice says “trial. trial.” and liz doesn’t remember the name of the software or know how to stop it and she doesn’t want to

[itneverendshere]

need your confession - brother bsf! rafe

pairing: kelce's sister x hockey!rafe warnings: smut <3

part of this universe

It was the biggest game of the season so far—your university’s team against their biggest rivals.

You, however, were sitting on the bleachers, arms crossed, wrapped in your thickest winter jacket, trying to not to shiver like a little bitch, your legs pratically fusing to the metal. Next to you, Kie had a bucket of popcorn balanced on her lap, one boot casually propped against the row in front of you like she wasn’t on the verge of hypothermia too.

“Tell me again why we’re here when we could be literally anywhere else?” she asked, tossing a kernel into her mouth.

You exhaled sharply, your breath visible in the freezing air, eyes locked on the opposing team’s bench. “Kelce.”

You’d never missed a game in your life, the stupid sport had somehow made it’s way into your heart. It was practically coded into your DNA after a lifetime of being dragged to them, of screaming at refs, of celebrating wins and mourning losses. Although today you were more than tempted to do so, but you came, just to prove—to no one in particular—that you weren’t a coward.

Out there, somewhere in that sea of helmets and shoulder pads, was your biggest one-night-stand mistake. You were less than excited to see him skate across the ice.

Kie followed your gaze, pausing mid-chew. “Oh. Oh.” She swallowed. “You didn’t tell me he was on their team.”

“Because I was trying to block it out,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

There he was, stretching like he was God’s gift to hockey, that same smug smirk on his face that made you want to throw up in your mouth a little. The same guy you made the mistake of hooking up with last summer, back when you were blissfully unaware he was a complete waste of oxygen. Before you knew he played rough on and off the ice, throwing cheap shots at your brother, running his mouth, and generally acting like a walking red flag with skates.

“You have the worst taste in men,” Kie whispered dramatically, shaking her head.

“I was young and dumb,” you defended. “And drunk. Mostly drunk.”

“Still. You hooked up with a guy Kelce would literally throw himself into a fire to destroy. I’m surprised the universe hasn’t imploded.”

You groaned, sinking deeper into your jacket. 

Five minutes later you were gripping the railing, heart thudding as the teams lined up for the puck drop. The second your brother skated out, you tensed. Because you knew that motherfucker was going to say something.

And sure enough, after the first few plays, you saw him slide up beside Kelce during a pause in the game. His head tilted, mouth moving. Oh fuck no.

Kelce straightened up, grip tightening on his stick.

“Oh, shit,” Kie muttered, leaning forward. “Is he—?”

You braced yourself, waiting for your brother to lose it—waiting for him to drop his gloves and snap.

But before he could react, Rafe did.

One second, your brother looked ready to commit a felony, and the next, Rafe skated between them, shoving your biggest mistake back with his stick. Not hard, but enough to make a point. Enough to say, not fucking happening.

You blinked.

“What the fuck?” Kie breathed. “Did he just—?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to understand it too.”

Your brother shot Rafe a look, something between confused and annoyed, but Rafe ignored it, leaning in to say something low enough that even the refs weren’t paying attention. You couldn’t see his face, but whatever he said made the other guy’s smirk falter.

That did things to you.

The second the puck dropped, Rafe dropped him.

You hardly saw it happen. One moment, your biggest mistake was skating forward, and the next—bam. Rafe’s fist connected with his face so fast you almost missed it.

Kie sucked in a breath beside you. “Shit.”

You shot up from your seat, eyes still wide, watching as the guy hit the ice like a sack of bricks. Flat on his back, motionless for a second, before he started to stir.

Rafe just stood over him, still gripping the front of his jersey, still looking for a reason to throw another punch. His helmet was tilted back slightly, visor pushed up just enough to reveal that look—that look—the one that usually meant someone was about to get their ass beat.

The refs were already swarming, whistles blaring, but Rafe wasn’t moving.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, gripping the railing.

Kie was still frozen. “That was—wow. That was—”

“Unhinged?”

“Hot,” she finished.

You whipped your head toward her. “What?”

She raised her hands. “Unhinged, sure, but also—”

You groaned, eyes snapping back to the ice just in time to see the refs finally pry Rafe off the guy, shoving him toward the penalty box. He went willingly, shaking his hand out like his knuckles didn’t ache from the impact, that same fucking smirk plastered on his face as he skated off.

Then, because he was an asshole, he looked right at you. Through the glass, through the crowd—right into your fucking soul.

And winked.

You felt your entire body heat up, which pissed you off because fuck Rafe Cameron. Fuck his stupid protective streak. Fuck his broad shoulders and that stupid confident smirk and— You were sitting way too fucking close to the penalty box.

Close enough that when he stepped inside, he barely had to turn his head to see you.

You were still gripping the railing, eyes narrowed.

Rafe sat down, leaned back, then tipped his head toward you—he was expecting a thank-you.

You scowled. “Are you insane?”

It didn’t even matter that Rafe Cameron was built like a linebacker or that he had at least five inches on you. You were prepared to climb his ass like a tree just to wring his stupid, smug neck.

He smirked, rolling his shoulders like knocking someone out was just another Tuesday for him.

“I mean, I’ve been told,” he said, voice muffled through the glass, “but you're welcome, princess.”

Your mouth actually dropped open.

Kie choked on a laugh beside you.

“You—you think I’m gonna thank you?” you seethed, standing up so fast the people behind you flinched in their seats. “You just got benched for ten minutes.”

Rafe shrugged, running a hand over his chin like he wasn’t even listening to you. “Worth it.”

You nearly groaned at how good he looked with his helmet off, cheeks flushed from the cold, blue eyes sharper than usual. 

“You can’t do that.

“Can’t protect my girlfriend’s reputation?”

“Stop calling me that,” you hissed, wishing there wasn’t a glass stopping you from punching his face.

“What? I thought we were still doin' that.”

“We were never doing that.”

“We definitely were,” he countered, tilting his head. “Y'were all over me last week, princess.”

“Stop it.”

“Habit,” he said, so fucking nonchalant.

“Drop it.”

“Can’t.” He grinned, giddy, like this was his favorite thing in the world. “Kinda like it.”

Your eye twitched.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your fingers to your temples. “You are so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Heroic?”

Kie wheezed.

“You volunteered to be my fake boyfriend.”

Okay so you were lying through your teeth now.

“You begged,” he corrected, like the little shit he was. “Practically threw yourself at me.”

Kie was actually crying.

You clenched your jaw so tight your teeth hurt. “I asked you one time to pretend to be my boyfriend because some guy wouldn’t take a hint.”

“And I did an amazing job,” Rafe said, nodding like he deserved a fucking trophy.

“You got into a pissing contest with him,” you deadpanned.

His grin widened. “And he backed off, didn’t he?”

You made a sound so aggressive that Kie clamped a hand over her mouth.

Kie nudged you. “You’re staring.”

“I’m glaring,” you corrected.

You made a deeply frustrated noise, something that probably wasn’t human, something that just encouraged him further. Rafe looked so fucking smug, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, like he thrived off it.

The ref skated over then, tapping the glass with the butt of his stick. “Cameron, quit flirting and focus.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, tapping his stick against the glass once before turning back to the ice, still grinning.

You slumped into your seat, suddenly exhausted.

 “So, when’s the wedding?”

Later, at the victory party, you were still ignoring him, not that it was stopping him.

Rafe had been glued to your side all night, trailing after you like a fucking golden retriever, hands always on you—guiding you through the crowd, resting on your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your jacket just because he could.

And you—you were trying so fucking hard to stay mad. To hold onto your annoyance, to remind yourself that you didn’t ask him to knock a guy out in front of thousands of people just because he ran his mouth.

But he was making it impossible. Especially now, when he slid up behind you, arms sneaking around your waist, voice warm against your ear. “Still mad at me, girlfriend?”

You stiffened, but he just laughed, squeezing your sides before you could pull away. “Thought you’d be a little more appreciative. Y’know, considering I defended your honor.”

You turned in his arms, narrowing your eyes. “We are not together.”

His hands slid lower, settling on your hips, fingers pressing just enough to make you shiver. “Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

Fuck, he was so fine, disgustingly fine. The kind of fine that made you want to throw something at him just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that your body loved being near his.

You scowled.

Rafe just smiled. “Y’look real pretty tonight, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you damn near saw your past life. “Shut up.”

Rafe just grinned, fingers flexing against your hips like he had any fucking right. You smacked his hands, stepping back, but he just reeled you back in like a fish caught on his line.

“You are so annoying,” you hissed, trying to peel his hands off you like they were stuck with super glue. “Let me go.”

“Nah,” Rafe said, cocky as ever, grip tightening just to piss you off. “I kinda like it here.”

You made an indignant noise, smacking his chest this time, but that only made him chuckle. You wanted to scream, maybe—kiss him a little, which was exactly why you needed to stay the fuck away.

Some girl passing by stopped, looking between you two with a dreamy little smile. “Oh my God, you guys are so cute together.”

Rafe beamed, like he’d just won a fucking award. “Right?”

“No,” you snapped, shoving at his arms. “Don’t encourage him.”

The girl just giggled and walked off, and you were left fuming while Rafe watched, amused.

“You’re still enjoying this way too much,” you accused, crossing your arms.

“‘Cause it’s fun, princess,” he teased, hands still resting on your waist, like they fucking belonged there. “Y’get all riled up. It’s cute.”

Your throat hurt in a way that had you wanting to actually fight God.

“I’m about to get real uncute if you don’t back up.”

Rafe smirked, ducking his head like he had a secret to tell. “You sure?” His voice was low, sweet like he thought he could charm you.

You shoved at his chest hard, and he finally let go, but not without laughing to himself like this whole thing was so fucking funny.

“Go bother someone else, Rafe.”

“But you’re my favorite,” he shot back way too fast, and you hated that your stomach flipped like a damn pancake.

Your jaw dropped. You smacked his arm so fast he actually flinched.

“Don’t start,” you warned, but Rafe lived to start shit.

“Not my fault you like it,” he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits. “I don’t like it.”

Rafe just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Mhm.”

You scowled, about to curse him out properly, but before you could, his fingers brushed your waist again—light, teasing, just enough to make your breath hitch. 

You slapped his hand away so fast it echoed.

“Stop.”

Rafe grinned, like your suffering was his favorite form of entertainment.

“What? ‘S not my fault you’re so touchable.”

You gasped, actually gasped, because what the fuck kind of line—

“If you don’t stop this shit—”

“What?” He leaned in, voice low, too close, like he wanted you to feel the words. “You gonna hit me? Y’know I like it rough.”

You nearly malfunctioned, body glitching, brain buffering, eyes blinking at him like he had lost his goddamn mind.

“Don’t—” You inhaled so sharply your lungs burned. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again.”

Before you could even form a proper death threat, his hand curled around your wrist, just enough to stop you. To still you.

Jesus Christ, his hands were warm.

Big and solid and warm, even in this freezing-ass party house, even with the cheap beer and half-melted ice lining the countertops. His fingers pressed lightly into the inside of your wrist, just above where your pulse was doing its best impression of a goddamn hockey buzzer.

His other hand found your waist again.

Your breath hitched and you hated that he noticed.

“Knew you liked me, princess.”

“You’re delusional,” you snapped, jerking your hand back, but he just tsked, his grip firm but easy, he knew you weren’t actually trying.

He pulled you closer. Just an inch, enough to make you feel him.

His voice dropped lower. “Y’know,” he murmured, lips just brushing your ear, “You sure let me touch you a lot.”

Your spine snapped straight.

“I don’t,” you gritted out.

His fingers flexed on your waist. “No?”

“No.”

“Then stop me.”

Oh, you wanted to, you should have.

But you hesitated for just a second too long, because he was too close. Too solid. Too much of everything you swore you didn’t want, but now, right now, standing in the middle of a party where nothing else existed but him—

You didn’t move.

And Rafe knew it.

His smirk turned slow, lazy, and then—oh, you bastard—he tipped his chin down, catching your gaze with his like he dared you to look away.

You couldn’t.

Your pulse was a war drum against your ribs, your breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a growl, because he was going to do it.

He was going to—

His lips came down against yours, no hesitation. No teasing. He’d been waiting for this, he knew you had, too.

You didn’t have time to process before his tongue swept past your lips, and—fuck—your knees almost buckled.

Because Rafe Cameron kissed like he did everything else.

His fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, this wasn’t enough. His other hand cradled the side of your face, tilting your head up so he could kiss you deeper, pressing and taking like he already knew you’d let him. He knew exactly where to touch, how to hold you so you wouldn’t dare pull away.

Then— oh —his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, slow, before slipping past, deepening the kiss like he was starving for it.

Your whole body reacted.

It shot straight down your spine, pooling low in your stomach, Rafe wasn’t giving you a second to think—his lips moved against yours in that filthy rhythm, his tongue teasing, stroking against yours, coaxing a sound from your throat that you hadn’t meant to make.

That did something to him.

His hands tightened, one splaying across the small of your back, pressing you flush against him, the other sliding up to your neck, angling your head just how he wanted—deeper, messier.

And, God help you, you let him.

Because fuck, he kissed so good.

Rafe groaned into your mouth, the sound needy. His teeth scraped lightly against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you gasp, and he took advantage—kissing you deeper, he wanted that little sound, he’d do whatever it took to pull more from you.

His fingers sliding down—tracing the curve of your ribs, teasing the edge of your top like he was thinking about pulling it off right here.

Then he changed the rhythm, slowing down, torturously. His tongue tangled with yours in a slow tease; he wanted to make you feel every second of it, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He kissed like he was made for it.

Rafe tilted his head, lips dragging along your jaw, down to your neck, where he bit, hard enough to make your breath hitch.

“Knew you'd let me.”

Your chest heaved, your whole body felt wrecked, and he hadn’t even really touched you yet. You should have slapped him, pushed him away.

Instead, you wanted more.

So you rose onto your tiptoes, pressing your chest against his, searching for friction—and shit, Rafe felt it. His entire body shuddered, his breath stuttering as he realized—no bra. Just you, warm, your nipples pebbled from the cold, pressing right against his chest through your flimsy top.

Rafe groaned into your mouth—wrecked. His grip on your waist nearly dropped for the shock.

Your hands slid up, nails scraping hard against the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, tugging—and fuck, that sent him feral.

He swallowed your gasp, mouth slanting over yours, tongue slipping inside—hot and wet. His tongue teased, then took, deep and demanding, like he owned you.

He pulled back just enough to spit—hot and slick—right into your tongue, eyes burning as he murmured, “Take it.”

And you did, you fucking did.

Because you were gone—ruined—nothing but the overwhelming need to feel him everywhere.

Rafe groaned, like he couldn’t believe you just let him do that, then devoured you again, tongue licking into your mouth like he wanted to live there.

His hands wandered, slipping under your top, tracing up your bare sides, thumbs barely brushing the underside of your tits—so close but not enough, teasing just to drive himself insane.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips, voice ragged. His forehead pressed against yours, hands still gripping you tight,. “Gonna be the fuckin' death of me.”

And God help you, you wanted to finish the job in the middle of this hallway.

His forehead was still pressed to yours, his breaths coming hot against your spit-slick lips.

You were so close, your chests heaving together, and just to be a brat, you rolled your hips just a little.

Rafe let out a guttural groan, his hands flying down to grab your ass, yanking you against him so hard you swore you felt his pulse everywhere.

“Jesus fuckin' Christ,” he groaned, mouth dropping open against your throat.

His forehead pressed to your shoulder, his entire body shuddering as his thumbs finally, finally swiped over your nipples, dragging over the soft, sensitive skin.

“You tryin' to make me lose my shit?”

“Maybe.”

Rafe moved, backing you up until your spine hit the wall, one knee pushing between your legs, parting them like he had every fucking right. 

His tongue was relentless, fucking into your mouth in deep, filthy strokes, like he wanted you to choke on it, wanted you messy. His spit dribbled from the corner of your lips as you kissed him back just as desperately.

Your nails dug into his broad shoulders, hard enough to leave marks, and fuck, Rafe loved it. He groaned into your mouth, hips grinding against yours, chasing the friction like a man starved.

“Y'like teasing me, huh?” he panted, dragging his mouth down your jaw, nipping at your pulse, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His voice was strained. "Makin' me wanna fuck you stupid?”

You whimpered.

That was all he needed.

His hands yanked your hips closer, grinding you against his thigh, right there, and fuck, you felt everything—felt how hard he was, how badly he wanted you.

You wanted him just as bad.

“Rafe—” you gasped, head tilting back against the wall, body burning.

He grinned against your throat, smug and dark. “There’s my girl.”

You whined, nails scraping against the back of his neck, and Rafe swore.

“Gonna fuckin' kill me,” he growled, his teeth nipping at your collarbone, his hands now fully cupping your tits, squeezing like he needed to feel every inch of you.

Your hips rocked against him, your body completely shameless, seeking out every bit of friction you could get. The slick between your thighs was unbearable, and his thigh between your legs was making it so much worse.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you groaned, and that did it. That fucking did it.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing your head back so he could drown you in another filthy kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth, dominating, possessive, his spit mixing with yours until it was dripping down your chin.

He loved it—loved you like this, breathless, wrecked, nails digging into his back, chest pressing flush against his like you were trying to fuse your body to his.

Rafe wasn’t even thinking anymore, his hips rutted against yours, his hands gripping your ass like he wanted to leave bruises, like he needed you to feel him tomorrow.

He broke the kiss, just enough to look at you, and fuck, he’d never seen anything hotter—lips swollen, spit everywhere, your breath all shaky and uneven.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his forehead pressing against yours, his fingers slipping lower, teasing. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

His thigh flexed between your legs, and you gasped, body jolting, the friction was too good, too much, and Rafe fucking felt it. His smirk was nothing short of wicked as he did it again, pressing you harder against the wall, grinding his leg up into you.

“That feel good, baby?” 

You could barely get the word out. “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He kissed you again, this time slower, his tongue licking into your mouth in long, lazy strokes, he had all the time in the world to ruin you. One of his hands slid up, fingers wrapping around your throat—not squeezing, just resting there, holding you in place.

Your pulse hammered against his palm. Rafe felt it. He fucking loved it.

“So fucking needy,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over your jaw, his other hand still gripping your waist, still rocking you against his thigh. His knee nudged up higher, pressing right where you needed him most, and your fingers tightened in his shirt.

“Rafe—”

He grinned against your lips. “That’s it, baby.”

Your brain was dead, but somewhere in the mess of it all, one clear thought hit you—

Of course he was the type of guy to talk you through it.

Of course, Rafe fucking Cameron would be the kind of guy who couldn’t just let you fall apart on your own. No, he had to be right there, dragging you through it, forcing you to hear every filthy, possessive word dripping from his lips.

The pressure between your legs was building, tight in your tummy, and you didn’t care that you were still in a fucking hallway, that anyone could walk by. You were too lost in him.

Rafe must’ve seen it on your face because his smirk faded. His fingers tightened just a little around your throat, his thigh flexing again, and fuck—

You whimpered, your hips rolling against him, chasing more, more, more.

Rafe groaned, his forehead pressing to yours, his lips brushing yours as he panted.

“God, fuckin' love you like this,” he muttered.

Just to wreck you further, he tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his, his blue eyes dark.

“You’re shakin',” His tone was smug, satisfied, “You gonna cum for me, princess?” His voice was pure sin. “Just like this?”

You gasped, pleasure sparking like electricity through your veins, and Rafe smirked—because he already knew the answer.

His grip on your throat tightened, not enough to hurt, just enough to make your breath hitch, to make you dizzy with it.

“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t ya?” he murmured, voice rough, teasing, eating up the way you moaned against his mouth. “So fuckin' desperate for me you’re about to come like this—rubbin' yourself on my thigh like a needy little thing.”

You should’ve been embarrassed, should’ve cared that you were still standing in a fucking hallway, grinding against him like you’d lost every ounce of dignity.

“Tell me, princess,” he growled, his thigh flexing between your legs, making you bite your lip. “Did that motherfucker ever make y'feel like this?”

You didn’t regist the words at first, but then you realized Rafe wasn’t just asking—he needed to hear it. 

Your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders. “No,” you gasped, shaking your head. “Never—fuck—never like this.”

That was all he needed.

His grip tightened, his hands sliding down to grab your ass, dragging you against him harder, rougher, making you moan into his mouth. 

“Didn’t fuckin' think so,” he muttered, his teeth grazing your jaw, “That’s my pretty girl,” he coaxed, his lips still dragging down your throat.

Your body tensed, thights closing around his.You gasped, back arching against the wall, fingers pulling at his shirt.

Your breath came in desperate, uneven gasps.

He couldn’t just let you have it.

No, Rafe fucking Cameron had to drag it out—had to make sure you felt every last second of it, had to talk you through it like he got off on watching you break.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, his grip on your hips bruising as he forced you to keep moving against him, his thigh flexing up to meet you with every devastating grind. “Don’t fucking stop now.”

You whimpered, your entire body on the verge of collapse, pleasure building so deep that it almost hurt.

His fingers slipped under your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him, to see the way his blue eyes were blown with want.

“That’s it,” he murmured as a wrecked sound ripped from your throat, your body arching against his, because fuck, fuck, fuck—you were still right there.

Your breath hitched, your legs trembled, your mind blanking.

“Oh, fuck—” he groaned, feeling you shake apart in his hands, eating gup every twitch, every little gasp. His lips pressing against your cheek, murmuring filthy, wrecked praises against your skin.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, his voice thick with pride,  “Look at you.”

Your body was still buzzing, your breath coming in uneven gasps, your legs shaking where they were wrapped around Rafe’s waist. His forehead still pressed against yours when your phone rang.

The shrill sound cut through the post orgasm haze in your brain like a bucket of freezing water to the face, bringing you to the absolute insanity of what had just happened.

Oh, fuck.

Rafe groaned, annoyed, pressing his lips to yours again, not ready to let you go. “Ignore it,” he muttered, “They’ll call back.”

But then you saw the name on the screen.

Kie.

Your stomach dropped.

“Shit,” you whispered, your hands immediately shoving at Rafe’s shoulders, wiggling out of his grip. He hesitated for half a second before letting you down, his brows furrowing at how suddenly you pulled away.

Your legs barely worked, body was still tingling from the way he had just ruined you, but you forced yourself to stumble back, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Kie?”

“Thank God,” her voice came rushed, stressed. “It’s—fuck, it’s Liv. She got rookied.”

Rookied.

You knew what that meant. Some asshole upperclassmen had put her through some fucked-up hazing bullshit, and now she was probably wasted, crying, or worse.

“I’m coming,” you said instantly, already running a hand through your hair, trying to make yourself look less like you’d just been getting wrecked in a hallway.

Rafe was watching you.

You could feel his eyes on you, his body still so close, his hands still flexing at his sides like he wanted to grab you, pull you back in.

But you couldn’t think about that.

Holy shit.

Your childhood friend, your brother’s best friend, the guy you had a crush on when you were twelve.

You had just grinded on Rafe Cameron like a desperate whore and fucking came on his thigh in the middle of a goddamn hallway.

You felt your face go hot, embarrassment sinking in like a slow-moving poison, drowning out the last bit of euphoria still clinging to your skin.

Rafe stepped closer, his brows drawing together, picking up on your demeanor.

“You okay?” His voice was still rough, breathless.

You swallowed hard, shoving your phone into your pocket. “I—I have to go.”

His frown deepened. “What? Now?”

You nodded, your hands shaking as you avoided his eyes, you couldn’t look at him.

“I have to take Liv home,” you rushed out, already stepping away, trying to put distance between you and the biggest mistake of your life.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Need help?”

His voice was genuine, and for some reason, that made your stomach twist even more.

“No,” you said shaking your head. “I—I got it.”

His eyes searched yours, you knew exactly what he was looking for—regret.

You didn’t say another word. You just turned and walked away, ignoring the way your legs still trembled, ignoring the way your lips still tingled from his kiss, ignoring the way your heart slammed against your ribs because holy shit, what the fuck did you just do?