#I was laughing so hard watching this live

[revehae]

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.

wc ↠ 14.9k

a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

  ▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky

it was supposed to be like everybody else.

short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through. 

you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.

hook, line, and sinker.

far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.

no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.

which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.

as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”

jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”

“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”

jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”

“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”

jeno hummed. “are you now?”

you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”

“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him. 

“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”

jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”

your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.

jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”

“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”

jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.

your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”

jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”

switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”

“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.

“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”

you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.

“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.

you forced a smile. “great, so…”

jeno interjected, “on one condition.”

smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?

“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”

jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.

you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”

“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”

“that’s not my problem,” you spat. 

“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”

something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.

but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”

“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”

“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title. 

“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”

you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”

“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”

with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”

jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.

then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.

“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you.  “pleasure doing business with you.”

with that, you walked away. 

jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?

over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.

you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.

it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.

short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.

more like sacrifice.

  ▸ gilded age

“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.

roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”

jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”

you snickered. “god, what happened now?”

“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”

your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.

roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.” 

“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”

“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”

roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”

you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”

jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”

your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.

“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”

you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”

roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”

your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising. 

roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”

you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”

for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”

your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.

what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.

“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”

jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.

roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”

“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”

“a lot can change in two months.”

“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”

  ▸ takes two to tango

jeno: come over

you: no

jeno: that wasn’t a request 

you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around

jeno: not even for an A?

you: that’s what your grabby hands are for

jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us

you: i’m otw, chill. jesus

the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.

jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you. 

“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”

jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”

you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”

ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.

“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.

busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”

“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”

“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”

“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”

“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”

the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.

without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.

but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of. 

in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed. 

“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”

for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.

your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.

unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined. 

jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”

you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.

needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”

“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”

your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped. 

jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”

you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit. 

the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.

and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.

to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.

maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.

even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.

jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased. 

you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”

jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”

you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.

“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.

you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.

  ▸ chess, not checkers

deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.

jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.

instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.

the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.

and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.

jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.

the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.

but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.

and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.

hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.

jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”

“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.

jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.

seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”

jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”

a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”

jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.

jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”

rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust. 

“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”

jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”

that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.

jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”

now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”

jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”

jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”

jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”

“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.

“oh, and in what? pussy?”

“nope.”

jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”

it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.

jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”

“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”

▸ things good guys do 

“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”

“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”

jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”

you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.

jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.

jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”

you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”

jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”

“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.

“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”

scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”

“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”

you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”

“a blowjob.”

“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.

jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”

you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?

jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”

“that’s not the same!” you whined. 

“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”

you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”

maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”

you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.

it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”

you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.

jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.

normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt. 

“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”

you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.

jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”

your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.

not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.

at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”

your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.

that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.

he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.

it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.

widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.

jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.” 

your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.

jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.

there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.

“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”

with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking. 

jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”

you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.

if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”

you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.

it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.

compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.

“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.

at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.

you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.

at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.

jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.

“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.

not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.

when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.

tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”

chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.

jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”

he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.

there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.

though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible. 

you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.

“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.

it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own. 

then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing. 

with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed. 

jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”

even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.

it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”

like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.

irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”

you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.

jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”

he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.

▸ hard feelings

something about today was different than usual. 

when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.

but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.

it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.

you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.

long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.

and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?

but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.

fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.

jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.

roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.

they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”

jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”

your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”

jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”

“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.

roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.

your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.

“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”

jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”

then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.

you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see. 

you: you and i need to talk. right now.

jeno: about what?

you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!

jeno: maybe u should have swallowed

you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone

jeno: [one attachment]

jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it

you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.

adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.

you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you

jeno: this is bigger than just you and me

jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out

and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.

if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.

you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.

no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.

you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.

“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.

you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”

“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”

you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.

stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open. 

“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”

it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.

on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did. 

you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”

jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”

your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?

“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”

you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”

jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”

you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”

“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”

you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”

“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”

defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.

what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.

when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.

you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.

after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.

“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”

you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”

“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”

“i miss you,” you confessed. 

“a lie don’t care who tell it.”

“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”

“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”

there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”

you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”

your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that. 

taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”

your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”

in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”

“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”

“ma,” you groaned with a wince.

she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”

you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.

because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.

and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.

▸ cheerleader? breed her! 

standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.

you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.

there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.

you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.

jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”

you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”

jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”

you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.

jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”

you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.

“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.

god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”

your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic. 

grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”

you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.

jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.

panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to. 

then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.

your shoulders slumped in defeat.

jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.

just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”

jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”

you swallowed, not saying a word. 

the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”

your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.

jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”

you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”

jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”

it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed. 

hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”

jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”

it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”

“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.

two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”

you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”

“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”

“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”

jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.

“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”

your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.

“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”

you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.

getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”

you gawked, shaking your head.

his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”

with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.

he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.

jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.

you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.

the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.

“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”

your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.

but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.

sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.

jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”

your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.

jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”

no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul. 

your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.

jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”

jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”

those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback. 

hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”

“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half. 

but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”

there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.

jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”

you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.

jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”

your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback. 

“jeno, don’t…”

before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”

you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.

with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.

you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point. 

to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.

you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.

then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”

“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.

your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered. 

jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.

that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”

you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.

“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”

god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.

and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.

and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.

“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.

your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.

after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”

you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth. 

jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”

your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled. 

“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”

“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.

keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”

you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight. 

“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”

[greatw0r]

ROOMMATE VI ✶ vi × female reader

she's a night owl, you always hear sounds coming from her room when you get up to get a cup of water in the middle of the night

sitting with her on the cold balcony floor while talking about life and smoking

she's messy, her room is literally- you don't even wanna go in there until she gets her shit together and finnaly cleans it

everytime she goes to the gym she invites you to go with her " cmon princess- don't you wanna at least see me covered in sweat ? " she smirked and you trow her a pillow

cooking together sometimes- she's sitting on the counter while telling you the recipe and what to do next and eventually helps you - cuts something or mixes things

she's an caffeine addict omg

going grocery shopping with her and she acts like a nine years old, jumping into the wheels of the cart and running around almost hitting someone

helping her paint her hair and cutting her hair- she says she doesn't want to waste money on hair saloons who aren't going to do what she wants so you do it instead with a bit of begging on her part

sometimes you get home and get hit with her music busting trough her speaker and her doing workouts in the middle of the living room " sorry sweetheart- hey can you pass me that towel ? "

talking about towels- she almost doesn't wear one when she gets out of the shower- making extremely hard for you not to stare at her when she walks out

having her friends over and they immediately make you feel included, laughing and drinking around the house

watching movies with her ! if she picks she will tell you all about the movie before it even starts or she will be super exited

making her go shopping with you- she swears she hates it but she actually doesn't- she loves it specially when you go try on clothes and wait for her opinion

becoming ... a little more than just friends and roommates when one night- you two are talking about your last relationships and the past when vi hands you her jacket- and then her lips where on yours

" shit- ... I shouldn't have " she cursed and sighed but you pull her back into you kissing her more . she's shocked but kisses you back with an smile " didn't thought you had it in you princess "

[amphitriteswife]

꧁ ༺mercy༻ ꧂

❦ pairing: Emperor Geta x empress reader

❦ Warnings: Geta yelling at his wife, reader doesn’t get along with Caracalla.

❦ note: i’m so in love with Geta and yes i have other fics with the same name

❦ summary: Emperor Geta wanted to kill Acacius.

.

.

.

Geta’s eyes focused on the arena. The sight before him made him feel conflicted. Acacius on his knees with his hand raised as a sign of admitting defeat. Hanno looking up at him and waiting for his answer. The crowd themselves had made up their mind. They were switching between calling Hanno the winner and calling out mercy for general Acacius. Geta pressed his lips in a thin line, he gave Lucilla a side eye. She was crying out for the general. Doesn’t she get that it won’t help now? She wanted to kill the emperors of Rome! And now you expect mercy?! How delusional can you be? It’s almost shocking….yes…he would be shocked of he wasn’t so enraged. The crowd’s yelling began to become louder. Geta felt his anger building up? Mercy? Mercy?! Even after the general showed to be a traitor they want mercy?! Geta the rose from his seat. Caracalla told his brother to not show any mercy to the general. Geta gave him a glance and turned to the people. He looked up to the sky and muttered some words to the gods, communicating with them with what he should do. Slowly, Geta extended his hand forward. The crowd went silent, there was a thick atmosphere, the praetorians had lowered their bows. What was happening? Geta turned to his brother who seemed equally confused. The sudden sound of Lucilla gasping brought him back to earth, he felt a hand on his own, turning his thumb to point to the sky.

‘Mercy! Emperor Geta has shown general Acacius mercy!’

The announcement of the master of ceremonies made the crowd wild, people began to chant praises to him, something he longed for yet he feels only rage in a moment he had always dreamed off. He slowly turns his head to see you, his wife who shouldn’t have been here but in northern Africa. His eyes looked at you with rage. His pupils almost shaking with anger, his pale make up almost giving away the redness underneath it. He was livid. You could see the veins in his neck throbbing, Caracalla laughed at his brother’s anger. He found it rather amusing. Lucilla, who was reliefed with neither her son nor husband dying in the games thanked you with tears streaming down his face. Geta pulled his arm away from you and grabbed you by the arm instead.

‘What in tartarus name are you doing?!’

His voice is loud which caused Caracalla to laugh even harder, his brother’s anger is always something he enjoys. No matter who the cause is and what he might to do them. His eyes gleaming with enjoyment as he watched Geta go off in his fit of rage…only for him to stop when you put your hand on his brother’s mouth and leading him out of the colosseum. He quickly marched behind the two of you while Lucilla’s chains were undone by one of the praetorians. Caracalla couldn’t help but snicker, you’re either very brave..or very foolish…or perhaps both.

Back at the palace Geta finally let go of your arm and instead grabbed you by the cleavage your chiton, his knuckled turning white, his face taking on an even deeper color of red. The make up didn’t help and only made him look more ridiculous. He was yelling so hard that there was spit flying out his mouth (sounds familiar) His eyes almost bulging out his eyes.

‘EMPRESS DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. HE WAS A TRAITOR. TRAITOR OF ME, OF ROME, OF YOU. OF US. HE NEEDED TO DIE.’

‘He was no such thing.’

‘HOW MORE IGNORANT CAN YOU BE! YOU LET THE MAN WHO WANTED TO KILL ME LIVE! DON’T YOU HAVE ANY DECENY? EVEN MACRINUS ADVISED ME TO KILL HIM!’

Your sigh made Geta stop and take a few breaths. He ran a hand trough his hair and then stopped it in front of his eyes. He feels exhausted. Caracalla in the mean time arrived at the palace and laughed once again at Geta’s outburst.

‘That’s quite the scene you made brother.’

Geta ignored his sentence and once again turned to you only to be met by you splashing water in his face and a cloth being thrown into his face.

‘Clean up. And shut your mouth. I just saved you from getting killed by the romans.’

Caracalla cackled at you while Geta grabbed the cloth of his face. He was still seething with rage and spat some insults at you.

‘That’s no way to speak to your wife.’

‘Wife? WIFE?! YOU EMBARRASSED ME!’

Embarrassed? Yes he gets embarrassed easily when he’s in front of his people but is he seriously this stupid? You saved him. The people were cheering for Acacius. After all he was way more loved that the emperor, with valid reasons too. Killing him would cause even more problems, and not to mention that it would show Geta’s insecurity.

‘An emperor knows when to show mercy and when not. An emperor doesn’t rely on someone like Macrinus to help him assure his choices. You should be sure of what to do and how to do it, not seek comfort in Macrinus when the general betrayed you. You’re an idiot.’

‘Brother, are you really taking a lecture from your little wife?’

‘Shut up, you rule with your head up your ass. You can’t even grasp the situation. All you care about is bloodshed and sex.’

Caracalla’s face turned sour at your words. He never liked you. Yes he does always want what his brother had but you? You’re just some useless piece of nothingness. And you have the galls to insult him? Hah! The sudden feeling of a blade being pressed against your neck wasn’t unexpected, Geta on the other hand was shocked and tried to get Caracalla off you.

‘I’ll cut you! You useless bitch!-’

‘Brother get a hold of yourself!’

Geta’s eyes flickered between his brother trying to free himself from his arms, and you not moving with a slight cut on your neck. Why are you so normal about all of this? Why do your eyes not hold any emotions? No fear? No anger? Just nothingness? The sudden sound of two swords clashing against each other made Geta stop, he felt the blade just barely pass him and cluttering onto the floor. Caracalla’s hand was also bleeding which caused him to shriek. Geta’s voice sounded truly angry laced with some concern, yet it was not for you. But for Caracalla.

‘How dare you! Praetorians, take her away!’

You wiped your sword with the cloth you had thrown into Geta’s face earlier, the blood seeping into the cloth. It wasn’t a lot, but it sure was noticeable. You refused for the guards to take you away, their hands were always gentler to you than anyone else. Something Geta had ordered for them to do. You handed your sword to one of them, who already left the rest of the group to take it away. A foreign swords to the romans, it was hard to miss. After all, you were the only one in the empire to yield it. You turned your back and Geta and walked with the guards. Not glancing or even looking his way.

‘You’re a coward. Come and see me if you find the balls and face the reality of the situation.’

The praetorians shared some glances with each other. You had a sharp tongue in contrast to Geta who only opened his mouth to say what others wanted from him. Geta watched you walk out the room and turned to Caracalla.

Back in your room you had gowned yourself in one of the many Geta had work before. He always shared his gowns with you to cover you up. You didn’t feel any guilt, nor any sadness. You did what you had to do. It’s as simple as that. Yes Caracalla is a very touchy subject for Geta. That is true and you don’t get along with him which is also true. An empress stays by the emperor’s side no matter what, she ensures there is no harm coming his way. You saved him, both with the situation regarding general Acacius and the people turning against him. Even if he doesn’t understand it. Sometimes he has to put his pride away to fall into favor. Rome is a difficult empire after all. Its too big, too busy and the emperors don’t make it any better. There are many issues that are arising and many that still aren’t solved. General Acacius did aim for Geta’s head, but then again it is not that it’s not understandable. If you were in his position you probably would’ve done the same. It is a logical decision. But…you’re not in his position…you’re in the position of an empress. Therefore, even if Geta is like this. You still have to remain loyal. It’s simply your principle, your moral. And you’ll stick to it until the end. The sound of soft footsteps made you open your eyes. Your head still turned to look outside. Rome was supposed to be a paradise, yet it is far from what it’s supposed to be. You recognized the footwork, Geta. But you did not turn your head to him, he’s here if he wants to say something. And that’s what he should do. No more pampering from you.

‘Empress…’

‘Ready?’

‘What?’

‘Ready to face what you caused?’

Geta didn’t reply. He doesn’t know if he wants to hear it. He knows it himself, but hearing someone tell him that is another thing. He hates this.

‘I’m sorry’

‘What are you sorry for?’

Geta is silent once again. His mouth opened and closed. He wanted to say something. But what should he say? You ignored his gaping and pressed a fruit against his lips.

‘See, you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. Just saying what you want me to hear from you, your sorry doesn’t mean anything.’

Geta listened to you quietly, he took the fruit from your hands, sitting on the bed and fixing his gown while you stood by the window. His eyes were focusing on you. His face a little somber.

‘You’re naive. You trust Macrinus too fast. Think about it. He was a man who was the slave of the former emperor, he has risen in the status to something more admirable. But, would the same man who was once a slave be loyal to someone of the status who once oppressed him?’

Your words made him contemplate a lot of things…was Macrinus not the man he thought he was?…yes..there is some truth to your words. No man would be willing to serve someone of the same status who hurtl them beyond their core. Beyond their existence. A man who was hurt and got everything stripped away from him would never be loyal to someone who did that to him…Geta’s eyes flickered for a little. He saw him as a friend. Yes, that’s what he said and believed. But it’s one sided. It’s a lie. A lie made up in his own mind that he believed in. Geta cleared his throat…such information is hard to process. But thay didn’t explain why you did what you did regardless the general.

Sensing Geta’s questioning eyes upon you, you turned to him, your gaze meeting his which caused him to look away for a moment.

‘The general was more loved. Killing him would result in greater dispair and rage. The distance between you and the people of Rome would grow even greater. An emperor is close with his people…and more importantly, an emperor can forgive.’

‘You want me to forgive general Acacius?’

‘Yes, not from the emperor to the general. But from a man to another. Who is willing to listen and see reason.’

‘You think he would actually be sorry.’

‘He might not be, but he did it for the people of Rome. You too should do it for Rome. Ofcourse i will prevent anyone for ever wanting to have your pretty little head.’

Gets thought for a moment. Yes..it sounds right. But there are still yet many problems to come. The general might try again, or perhaps there are more who are willing to kill him. Macrinus is still in grey area, he hasn’t tried anything but your reasoning has made him wary. It’s very tiring, to be an emperor. But one must be fit for it. Well…he may not be the right choice, but you make up for it. Moments like these reminds him once again why you’re the empress. Where he lacks you make up for. He may not be capable enough but you sure are. Geta’s eyes once again looked back at yours, standing up from the bed and holding your hand. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles before he placed a soft kiss on them. Everyone usually kissed the hand of an emperor. Yet here he was, the emperor of Rome kissing his empress’ hand. Geta pulled back, still holding onto your hand. He felt a rather warm feeling in his chest, quite different from the concupiscent feeling he usually had around his concubines. This one came out of a place of love and admiration.

‘Do you wish to lay with the emperor tonight, empress?’

[bbrissonn]

𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

summary: in which you spend tow beautiful christmas morning with jack and luke warnings: not proofread, couple of swear words pairing: luke hughes x zegras!reader (lemon au) wc: 2.1k a/n: happy holidays to all of you, hope you enjoy yourselves💗

- December 25, 2023 -

"morning, j."

"hi." the boy mumbled back as he sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, hand reaching for the cup of coffee you sat in front of him.

"i see your excited." you joked, making the boy send you a death glare. he was about to say something when Luke walked back in from the bathroom.

"morning, rowdy." he said, ruffling his brother's hair as he walked over to you and grabbed the coffee you had just finished making him. all he got in response from jack was a groan as he started adjusting his hair.

"gross." he then added once he saw the two of you engaged in a soft kiss. "don't make me ship you back to your brother, y/n/n."

"you're so funny, jack." you told him, faking a small laugh. finally, the older boy finally smiled this morning, making you roll your eyes with a smile on your face as well.

"can we just get this over with so i can go back to sleep." jack said as he stood up from the stool and made his way over to the living room, where a rather questionably decorated christmas tree sat, a handful of gifts under.

"he's in a joyful mood this morning." luke mumbled before pressing a kiss to your temple and joining his brother on the couch, you following closely behind. Instead of joining the boys on the couch, you went straight for the tree and picked up the gift you had wrapped from jack, handing it to him with a soft smile.

"start us off, big boy." you laughed before taking a place between the two boys, luke throwing one of his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him. Your gift was something very small, just a puck with a picture of the three brothers taken before their first game all three together, and on the other side was your favourite picture of jack falling on the ice midair.

jack's tongue poked out of his lips lightly as he struggled to open the wrapped box. f there was one thing you were gonna do, it was make the process of opening gifts as complicated as you could. ou had always done it to your brothers, and recently to your sister as well, always giggling as you watched them struggle.

"y/n/n, i swear-"

"you're almost there!" you cheered as luke chuckled next to you, somehow pulling you even closer. finally, the older boy was able to get to the box, pulling out the puck as a smile quickly took over his face instead of the frown that had been present since he had walked into the kitchen.

"y/n/n... this is surprisingly sweet of- oh my god, of course!" the boy started, but cut himself off as he flipped the puck over, seeing the other picture of him, which sent you into a fit of giggle at his reaction. luke was quick to take a peak at the puck, laughing along with you. "y/n!"

"it was just too hard to resist, j. but, hey, i could've used a way worse picture for the front." you said with a teasing smile. jack rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. he wrapped his arms around you, bring you into a hug as he kept admiring the puck in his hand.

it still felt surreal to him that all three of them had made it this far, feeling like just yesterday their mother was teaching them how to skate on an outdoor rink in toronto. and here they all were, luke and jack in new jersey, while quinn was captain of the canucks across the continent. all of them so far away from each other and their parents, but all connected by their shared love for each other and the sport.

"thank you, really."

"your welcomed, jacky." you answered with a smile as luke pulled you out of his brother's grip, and back into his arm. jack scoffed at the move, but his smile still present as he got up and grabbed the gift he had for luke.

the three of you then engaged in a two hour long exchange of gifts between yourselves. the puck was the only real gift you had gotten jack, the other five being gags that always sent you and your boyfriend into a fit of giggle. it was hard to shop for someone who could already buy whatever they wanted.

but it was safe to say that luke had gone all out on you, buying you almost everything you had mentioned either being cute, or simply just saying you wanted it, in the last couple of months. of course, you pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, to which jack always answered with a gag. as for yourself, you had gotten luke a couple items that he had mentioned over the time of your relationship, but that he had never gotten himself because he didn't feel the need to. but there as one gift that you had opted to keep tucked away in the drawer luke had given you in his dresser, deciding that was not something jack needed to see.

later that evening, you found yourself cuddled on the couch with luke, while jack was currently in the bathroom, the movie paused. you were wearing one of trevors usa hockey sweatpants that you had claimed as your years ago, and one of luke's devils hoodie.

"i'm really happy your here, babe." luke whispered, making you lift your head from his chest and look up at him with a smile.

"'m happy to be here, lu." you mumbled, playing with the strings of his hoodie. you hadn't seen each other since thanksgiving weekend, where you had decided to come visit him in new jersey. of course, you two had face time every day, maybe missing two or three days where either of you were just too busy, tired, or your schedules just didn't lineup. either way, you had talked at least once every day since he left michigan in september.

"i've really missed you."

"i missed you, too, lemon." you smiled before leaning all the way up to met his lips. the two of you soon found yourselves in a passionate make out sessions, tongues dancing together as luke pulled you as close as he possibly could, his hands all over your body.

"you have a room for a reason, luke." jack groaned as he threw himself down on the couch, making the two of you pull apart. you smiled shyly as you hid yourself in luke's hold, no one saying anything else as jack pressed play on the remote.

a couple of hours later, you and luke were laying in his bed half asleep, your face snuggled in his naked chest as you listened to his heart beat. one of his hands was on your head, playing softly with your hair.

"you liked your gifts?"

"mm-hm. loved them." you mumbled, shifting slightly as you tried to shoved yourself closer to him, your chest pressed against his. "but, you know, i don't need all that stuff, babe."

"i know, but i promise your brothers i'd take care of you, and treat you like you deserve. and you deserve this, baby." he explained softly, his eyes slowly closing.

"and i appreciate it, luke, i really do. but i truly do not need all these things. i got you, and that's enough for me."

"you better tell that to your brothers if i ever get an angry visit from them." he joked, making the two of you chuckle before slowly falling asleep in each others arms.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

- December 25, 2024 -

"alright lovebirds, i'm not going through what i went last year again." jack said strictly has he sat down on the couch next to you, setting his cup of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. "kiss each other all you want, but keep your tongues in your own mouths. or go in your room if you really need to get all freak with each other." he continued, making luke roll his eyes at his brother's attitude.

this year was a little different though, with trevor being injured, he had decided to come back home during his small little break, and after jack begged him to come over this morning, you guys were now four on the couch.

"or maybe just don't." trevor added, siding with his best friend. trevor almost flew out of his seat as he looked over at the two of you, only to see both of you rolling your eyes.

"whatever, let's jus get started."

as you started exchanging gifts between yourselves, it only then that the two hughes brother realized how similar you and trevor were, both opting for gag gifts, laughing hysterically each time someone opened their gifts.

"two gifts only, luke?" your brother asked as jack finished opening the last gift that was under the tree, his eyes staring into luke's. your boyfriend was quick to look over at you with wide eyes, making you place a hand on trevor's shoulder.

"trev, it's fine, i asked him not to." you said softly, making trevor's eyes go wide.

"why?"

"'cause i don't need anything else, i've already got everything i want." you explained.

"that's corny." jack chuckled, making luke roll his eyes a bit.

"i mean it though, i don't need a hundred pair of pants, or twenty curling irons." you said, looking more at your brother than your boyfriend. since trevor had sign his first contract, he had made a couple of unnecessary spendings for you, which you were truly thankful for, but you would rather him keep his money than buy you all the stanley cups he could find.

"whatever. i'm gonna go to the bathroom." trevor sassed, standing up and making his way to the bathroom.

"i'm gonna go get water, you guys want anything?" jack then said, standing up as well, but waiting for your answers before leaving.

"i'm okay, thank you." you declined with a smile while luke just shook his head.

"told you he'd hate me." luke was quick to mumbled once jack was gone.

"and i told you, i don't care what he thinks. i know this is gonna sound cringy or whatever, but i have you, lu, and that's good enough for me. just being with you is better than any gifts you could ever give me."

"very corny." luke smiled, looking down at you before attaching your lips together. you let out a soft giggle as luke's hand slipped into your shirt, his fingers gently touching your waist.

"one rule! we give you guys one simple rules, and you can't even follow it?" jack exclaimed as he walked back into the living room, making the two of you pull apart from each other. at the same time, trevor walked out of the bathroom, his eyebrows raised at his best friend's words.

"jack, grow up."

"actually, that's reminding me, trev and i have one last gift for you guys." the middle hughes sibling said before he and trevor disappeared into his room. they came out about a minute later, during which you and luke had exchanged as many kisses as you could, holding a large box. you could tell trevor had wrapped it just from the looks of it.

"open it." trevor said as he placed the box on your lap. you shared a questionable look with luke before unwrapping the box and opening it, only to be met with the sight of 6 boxes of condoms looking back at you. your jaw dropped right away, sending a glare to your brother, while luke threw his head back with a groan.

"trevor!"

"i'm too young to be an uncle, y/n. and by the way you guys are acting with each other in front of us, i don't even want to begin to imagine what you do all alone." he said sternly, both his hands resting on hips like a dad giving his kid a lecture.

"we're not stupid, you know." luke said, closing the box and putting it on the ground. "but thank you for saving me some money, appreciate it." he added with a smile, making your brother gagged while jack slightly hit him on the back of the head.

the rest of the day was filled with chaos, from luke and jack arguing about who's turn it was to do the dishes, figuring out what to eat, trevor and luke getting into a play fight in the middle of one of the movies as your brother saw luke's hand slipped a little too low for his liking. as well as finishing the night with two facetime calls between your families, your parents having the longest discussion about time flying by so quickly until you all told them to just call separately and hanging up the phones.

it was by far the most action-packed christmas you had ever experienced, but you wouldn't of had traded it for the world.

[hwallazia]

HOT TO GO – 김홍중

⋆ synopsis. during a xmas eve dinner with your family, your best friend disappears. concerned, you search the entire apartment complex, only to stumble upon him watching porn alone. unable to resist, you decide to tease him a bit about it.

pairing. best friend! kim hongjoong & fem! reader.

wc. 2,9k

warnings. smut (mdni!), F2L, soft dom! hongjoong, suggestive language, cussing, liquor consumption, getting caught obviously, teasing & flirting, porn watching (this whole thing is porn but wtv), auralism?, getting interrupted ughhh, hongjoong comes on reader’s face and tits, praise, dirty talk, nicknames (pretty boy, pretty, attagirl & more), blowjob, implied cum eating but not explicitly written, an awful attempt at comedy in the end.

nic’s notes ⋆ second of the event & december’s already ending, i knoww (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i’ll finish the event in january i promise !! i really don’t like how this came out, but i couldn’t leave y’all without a christmas gift! merry xmas, loves <3

living room, dining room, bathroom, backyard, even inside the fucking oven. you had searched everywhere for hongjoong, and yet he’s nowhere to be found.

just an hour ago, you were enjoying some drinks with him, the strong alcohol of the tequila burned your throat deliciously, and the surroundings only caused the liquor to impact you even harder. small bright lights provided dim and comfy lighting to the room for those who were under the influence already — which were probably your uncles, who actually were spending a lovely time playing some drinking games. your mother and her sisters were chatting pleasingly near the kitchen aisle, your aunt looking for a new bottle of red wine only meant that the conversation was going to last longer than what anyone could predict, whereas your grandma was nowhere to be seen — she probably headed to her bedroom to get some well-deserved sleep, your mother had already forced her enough to stay awake past midnight.

“so yeah, that’s pretty much it. never met up with that bitch again, she prolly moved to somewhere far from here since i never heard from her again either. or well, at least that’s what i’m manifesting.” you summarized, chuckling at the end before you chugged another sip of tequila. hongjoong stared at you intently, one brow up, as your throat bobbed up and down with one smooth gulp.

“you sure are going hard on that tequila,” he said whilst glancing at your drunken irises. the way you frowned your brows and cringed almost made him laugh. how cute.

“excuse me, you’re the one who hasn’t drank one sip.” you deadpanned, a low laugh escaping his lips unintentionally as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand; his body rocking forward, driven by habit. “c’mon, let’s get you a drink. a cocktail for starters.” you said without giving him a chance to defend himself, grabbing his forearm as you led him towards the kitchen, where an exasperating and almost unbelievable collection of bottles, full of any kind of liquid you could imagine. your mind was already scheming what to prepare for your dear best friend; some vodka mixed with any energetic drink that you could find in the fridge seemed like an excellent idea.

but you could never fathom what your dear friend’s mind was envisioning, nor what held his eyes so intently. while you walked him whenever you were taking him, your cute ass was swinging, side to side in a smooth motion that had him going nuts. actually, if you held a gun against his head and asked him if he had thought about anything else that night, he’d let you shoot him, because he could never fathom the thought of you finding out how much of a pervert he was. but it was true though, the way that black, tight, and short dress hugged your figure made him salivate all over himself like a dog, the nastiest one. your curves were to die for, and hongjoong would gladly prove it — just so you know. god, what wouldn’t he give for just one night with you—to hold those hips with his own palms.

but that’s his secret. so shush.

hongjoong just couldn’t handle the view anymore. he halted you when he sank his heels onto the wooden floor, and with a deep sigh, he crafted the best excuse he could muster. you gyrated your head and let go of him when he began speaking. oh here we go. “wait, i actually have to go to the bathroom.” you glared at him, not believing a single word that was coming out of his mouth. “it’s an emergency!” he yelped in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, quite amusing to hear.

“fine. i’ll just pretend that you actually wanna go to pee and that you’re not a pussy that can’t handle a round of drinks with me.” you scoffed in a teasing manner, an almost invisible smirk showing up on your lips as your hand positioned on your hip.

“i’ll take the blame.” he sentenced, putting relaxed hands in the air as if he was being accused of committing a crime — and to be honest, he was just about to commit one.

after that, he headed towards the bathroom, your eyes followed his figure as it disappeared into the large, bright lighted corridor. with a sigh and an unopened bottle of tequila in your hands, you made your way back to the kitchen, determined to join the endless conversation that was taking place in its aisle. you aunt jessica looked in your direction, and when her blue irises landed on the delicious tequila that you had with yourself, she couldn’t help but let out a squeak sharp enough to shatter glass, immediately inviting you to participate in their talk with a smile plastered on her face.

you had to do something while hongjoong was gone after all.

but an hour had passed, and the conversation had turned rather depressing, your maternal aunt’s marriage problems overshadowing the happy, joyful christmas vibes. you needed to find hongjoong; otherwise, this conversation would only fry more brain cells than it already had. you exhaled as you rose from your seat, a glass of red wine resting in the palm of your hand gracefully — or you also could call it the other reason why you’d wake up with a mind-scattering headache.

“excuse me, i’ll go upstairs real quick,” you announced to the six ladies that you had just chatted with.

“darling!” your mother stopped your movements. “where’s hongjoong? haven’t seen him in a while now.”

“i don’t know. i was wondering the same thing just now.” you paused briefly. “i’ll go find him.”

normally, you’d find him in the backyard, playing with your younger cousins — to be honest, he nailed the role of the cousin way better than you. but strangely, he wasn’t, which only led you to do what you’d normally call research because at this point, the man had either gone invisible or was aiming for the world record in the longest game of hide and seek. at least, ten minutes passed and he was still missing.

you dragged your feet towards the bathroom, the tiredness of being in a tight and rather short dress and high fucking heels with your best friend missing as a bonus started to hit you. as you made your way to the guest bathroom, you passed by your bedroom, but something odd happened to catch your attention. a weird light was coming out of your room and you were absolutely sure you had turned everything off and closed the door—you didn’t want any babies sleeping in your beloved bed, for god’s sake.

your feet move backward in a quite amusing motion, your body now standing in front of the semi-open wooden door. with a cocked brow, you peeked through the crack in the door and saw hongjoong’s figure laying on your bed; back facing the door. as the gorgeous, lovely, and very funny best friend that you are, the only idea that came to your mind was to surprise him. little did you know that he was the one who surprised you.

with slow, cautious steps you approached his lying body. you noticed he was watching something on his phone, the bright white light from the device illuminating his face, yet his shuddering pants were the thing that caught your eye.

and one or two steps were more than enough for your eyes to finally and fully take in the scene unfolding before you.

your best friend was jerking off while watching porn. in your own house, in your own bed, in front of your goddamn eyes. and fucking hell, you could clearly see his dick grazing your blankets in a slow, sluggish tempo.

now, in this situation you have two options: either get mad at him and yell at him for being a pervert and a lunatic, and never speak to him again for ruining everything up only because of being an idiot for doing that in such an inappropriate place and situation and day and just everything,

or

help him.

“well hey there.” you purred as you grazed the sides of his undone pants, his hand flew away from his hardened cock as well as his phone, which glided through thin air; a heavy and rough thud reverberated through the walls—a crack on its screen is guaranteed. wide open brown eyes stared at you, a pinkish, tender blush creeping up his cheekbones. “i was feeling kinda lonely out there, y’ know?”

your velvety tone tickled his spine, delicious goosebumps creeping up his limbs. “yn, w-what’re you doing here.” a breathless hongjoong spoke, trembling hands trying to put his dick back inside that wrinkled, damp, and surely uncomfortable fabric.

“that’s what i should be asking, don’t you think?” a little chuckle penetrated hongjoong’s mind, it took everything from him to not grab you by the arms and kiss the shit out of you. at this point, the poor man is delirious—thankfully, your soothing, reassuring hand calms his nerves down when you rested your palm over his. well, sort of. “heeeyy, already cutting the fun short? don’t tell you’re that much of a wet blanket.”

you got on your knees greedily before your hand glided over his dampened length, first rubbing his girth and then his cocktip smoothly. hongjoong hissed before cursing under his breath. “why’re you doing this.” he couldn’t help but ask, though it wasn’t as if he had any intention of stopping now. if you were going to start something, you’d better see it through. he adjusted his position, finally sitting properly whilst giving you enough space to do your work.

you chuckled as you glanced up at him, doe-eyes stabbing daggers into his heart, mind, and soul. “is it so bad that i don’t want you to go back there with a boner inside those pants?”

a low, growly fuck was shot into your eardrums when your thumb slid over his now leaking tip, trembling fingers almost digging holes into your sheets. “i could do it on my own—nguh” a gravelly moan sent shivers down your spine as soon as you swirled your tongue around the trail of precum his tip was spreading over his hard-on.

“y’ sure you could?” he couldn’t compete against your seductive voice and teasing touches. matter of fact, he couldn’t compete against you at all, not when you were so kind, sweet, sexy and just fucking stunning. the way this man was wrapped around your finger is fucking comical. with a deep sigh, he gave in to you.

“fuck no.”

“that’s what i thought.”

no other words needed to be said for you to swallow his whole length, his tip tickling the back of your throat. hongjoong’s head tilted back as he placed his right hand behind him for support, while the other rested gently on top of your head; fingers provided soothing massages to your scalp. you didn’t expect his moans to be so heavenly sweet, yet low and masculine, and they were impacting you in the most pleasant way; thighs started to rub together incessantly, in search of some friction, some relief.

“oh fuck thaaat’s it. you’re so sweet for doing this, so—ugh, fucking gorgeous.” dead eyes stared down at you, following your every movement, every gesture, every breath. his irises casted shadows over you, and a dark fire sparked within them.

and being totally honest, you were more than ready to lose yourself in them.

after some minutes of just pure sinful, wet sounds, your jaw was starting to hurt, causing you to get some of his girth out of your mouth unintentionally.

poor you, ‘cause hongjoong was already way too into it.

you felt how his palm applied light pressure down the crown of your head “oh c’mon pretty, you were doing so good before, what happened?” he cooed at you, a devilish expression ruling his eyes.

and did that smirk drive you over the edge. “i—“ his hand glided over your neck and pushed you all the way down, making you pathetically choke on his cock. tears filled your vision and soon began to stream down your cheeks, ruining your mascara—not that you were concerned about that, your red lipstick was all smudged anyway. spit dripped from the corner of your lips, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips with some hairs of his pubic zone.

what a view, hongjoong thought.

“attagirl.” he purred in a silky tone. all pain was gone in just a sec.

hongjoong could feel and hear everything. and when i say everything, i mean every fucking thing. the way your tongue danced over his tip, how it enveloped his length greedily and lapped at every bit of precum it could collect, or how you would whine when his cocktip hit that spot of your throat, how you’d gag around him and just how fucking sinful you sound and look with his dick in his mouth.

“you’re seriously gonna—ah be the death of me.” he heaved, that familiar coil was starting to form in his stomach and he was more than happy to give you every last drop of his load.

even though this may not be his ultimate fantasy, he’s more than content with what he’s receiving. he’d die happily when he gets to come inside you while in mating press. but let’s not get too excited.

“fuck—c’mon, joong. cum all over my face, i know you’re close.” you popped his cock out of your mouth so you could jerk it off properly, at a fast pace that had him seeing stars.

“god you’re—that gonna make me— shit!” he cussed as he jolted beneath you, under your control and intoxicating ministrations. with your poisonous irises and vicious manners, he came completely undone for you, because of you. tensed, muscly limbs and a deliciously arched back formed the scene that surely won’t leave your mind for the next two weeks. a satisfied moan of yours accompanied the melody of grunts that were escaping helplessly from his swollen lips—too reddened from biting them so harshly.

his hand replaced yours and began doing the same motion, but now angling his dripping tip towards you. “show me that pretty face and those pretty tits, cutie.”

what a pervert, you thought. and naturally, you wouldn’t have done so. but god, you were so fucking blissed out that you didn’t even think twice before popping your breasts out of that dark, fitted dress and presenting your face to him — totally surrendered to him like a slut.

the remaining white shots of cum spurted all over your face, a sinful string of that white essence connecting your lashes with your cheekbone, whilst a brief load of his seed painted your tits.

“fuck you’re kinky.” you deadpanned, giggling.

“guess you kinda have that effect on me,” he smirked, breathlessly. fuck, you want him to fuck you right now.

you smiled as you stood up just to push him onto the mattress, easily straddling his naked lap. “so, tell me.” dangerous grins were plastered on your faces. “why would ya be watching porn over here, behind my back…” your manicured nails traced scribbles on the exposed skin of his forearm, slowly shifting in an upward motion. “… when you have me.”

“well if i’m being honest, i had you,” he explained, confusion filling your mind. he chuckled at your tilted head and cocked eyebrow. “that specific pornstar has a similar voice to yours, and whenever she moaned…” his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips. “she just sounds exactly like how i dream of you moaning.”

and that pushed you over the edge.

you pressed your clothed crotch against his unintentionally, your instinct to seek friction overpowering your senses. his dark, low chuckle penetrated your mind. he straightened his back as he sat correctly and enveloped your torso with his strong arms. with one deep, endearing look into your irises, he whispered with a honey-dripping voice. “can i fuck you, yn?”

“thought you’d never ask.”

a harsh knock at the door made both of you jerk. “yn! i know you’re in here! come on, we gotta take some pictures with the family! get outta there, you got two minutes.” the high-pitched, squeaky voice of your mother sentenced as if she was the goddamn FBI or something.

with a profound exhale, you stared at each other. “well, i don’t know about you, but i personally don’t want to fuck with a time limit. it’s not like i’m able to make you finish in two minutes. i don’t even know if i can finish in two min—“ you grabbed his lips with your fingertips, shushing him immediately.

he glanced at you with puppy dog eyes. “would you shut up for once?” you giggled. “okay, pretty boy, we’ll get there. now, let me clean myself up and change into some new clothes so i can go take the damn pictures before my mom splits me open.”

you sighed, unlike hongjoong who smiled like a little kid. “i’d like to split you open.”

you chuckled as you threw the nearest pillow to him. a muffled awh was heard and your heart sank a bit, in the most tender way. that foolishly in love kind-of smile just could not leave your face. “shut up, you romeo.”

| masterlist

[mountainsandmayhem]

Merry Christmas, Little Dove

18+. Minors, Do Not Interact

Summary: You and Joel celebrate your Christmas tradition. OR Joel fucks you in front of the Christmas tree.

WC: 3.7k of straight filth

AN: this is not proofread or beta read, so just take it like the good girl you are 😉 Headers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

TW: multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected P-in-V (relax they’re both in their 40’s and in a long term relationship), one single slap, two drops of spit, oral (both ways), mentions of alcohol consumption

Main Masterlist || More of Joel & Little Dove

You watch the way his soft, dark green t-shirt stretches against his muscle-lined back as he places the gifts under the tree. The house is quiet, and both your daughters are asleep in their childhood bedrooms. The living room is basked in the warm glow of only the tree and electric fireplace. Joel is meticulously putting presents out, completely focused on his role as Santa Claus. This is one of the things you love most about your partner. He might have this tough, grumpy exterior, but he’s never been afraid to exude the Christmas spirit. When Ellie and Sarah were young, he would spend hours driving from store to store to find exactly what they wanted. He’d stayed up all night once building Sarah’s Barbie dream house and Ellie’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pizza parlour so they’d be surprised in the morning.

You smile to yourself over the years and years of memories in this room, and the smile is bigger knowing your college-aged daughters still want to come home for Christmas with mom and dad. You tiptoe over to the record player, putting on Joel’s favourite Frank Sinatra Christmas vinyl. As the soft tones of ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ filter from the speakers Joel stands and turns to face you.

“Hi, baby. Where’s the girls?”

“I think someone got a little heavy-handed with the whiskey in the hot toddies,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. He smirks, closing the distance between the two of you as he pulls you in to slow dance with him. “You might have two hungover daughters tomorrow morning.”

Your body meets his and need floods your system almost immediately. He smells like cedar and whiskey, his large palm rests on your lower back and you sway along with him.

“I’ll make them an Irish coffee tomorrow and they’ll be good as new. Besides, you and I wouldn’t be able to do our Christmas tradition if they were awake.”

“Joel Miller,” you say with a shocked laugh. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” he smirks down at you, his dimple on full display as his eyes darken with arousal.

“Devious,” you whisper before his lips sponge against yours. Truthfully, it’s been years since the two of you did your actual Christmas tradition. When the girls were younger, after all the gifts were under the tree and the cookies were eaten, Joel would turn out all the lights and then strip you bare in front of the tree and fuck you softly. But when the girls became teens it was too risky to just fuck out in the open like that.

Joel’s hands come to your waist pulling at the black shirt you have tucked into your high-waisted jeans. You squeak as he pulls. “What kind of witchcraft is this?” He jokes between kisses when the shirt doesn’t come out.

You giggle against his mouth, “It’s a bodysuit.”

“Mmm, with the little snaps where my Christmas present is?” His voice is lower and more seductive now.

“Yes, sir.” You say, the shift in the air between you two makes it hard to breathe.

Joel makes slow work of the button and the zipper on your jeans before lowering you to the ground. The slow sounds of Frank Sinatra are somewhere in the background, but at this moment all you can see, hear and feel is your beautiful partner above you, kissing anywhere he can reach.

He raises on his knees and tugs your jeans off, guiding your feet to fall on each side of him, then pulls his shirt over his head. The glow of the tree turns his body into a work of art. The dips of his muscles along his chest and shoulders are darker, making him look bigger than he is. Your hands reach towards the button of his jeans but he grabs your wrists to stop you.

“Not yet, little dove,” Joel’s voice is a scratchy whisper as he leans forward, pinning your hands above your head. “Stay like this for me, ok?”

You nod and hum out an agreeable sound before he sits back up, his warm, rough fingers trailing along your covered arms, breasts, and stomach as he comes to rest on his heels. Your breaths quicken at the sight of him and then stop altogether as he runs a finger along the gusset of your body suit.

“Gods you’re so beautiful, baby.” He whispers it like a hymn like you’re the deity he prays to, and you know you’re about to be worshipped.

“I need you,” you moan, clenching your fists to stay in his desired position.

“Do ya now?” Joel smiles softly, his finger grazing at your clit through your clothing. “Tell me what you want.”

“Take the rest of my clothes off and fuck me all slow and gentle until I come and then fill me up.” It’s a whispered request.

His finger hooks through the bodysuit and you gasp, then grind your hips to try to get him to touch you where you need it most. His eyes widen and the feel of your soaked pussy along the back of his knuckle. “Did you attend our wholesome Christmas Eve family dinner without any panties on, little dove?”

You bite down on your bottom lip as your cheeks flush pink. “Yes.”

With the flick of his finger the snaps on your bodysuit open. “Naughty girl.”

You lift your hips so he can slide the body suit up, which he does until your lacy red bra is exposed, but he’s much too preoccupied looking at your completely bare pussy. “Something looks different here,” he says with an eyebrow raised.

You feel shy all of a sudden, butterflies bursting in your stomach. When the two of you were in your twenties this was standard, but as you both got older you started leaving more hair. Joel never complained, now you’re worried he doesn’t like it.

“I got it waxed for you.”

He licks his lips before looking up at you. “Little dove, you know you don’t have to do that, right? I love your pussy just as much when it isn’t shaved.”

“I know,” you say, bringing your knees together nervously.

“Whoa, not so fast,” his hands come to your knees, pressing them apart. “I just want you to know that before I go down and don’t come up. Because this was my plan either way. I’m going to lick your perfect pussy until you pry me off. And then I’m going to fuck you so slowly, and only when you’re begging for it am I going slam into you until you come.”

The silence between you is thick with arousal before you croak, “Colour system?”

Joel lowers his body to the ground. His warm breath hits your soaked cunt as he speaks. “Yes, little dove. What do you say if you want to stop?”

“Red,” your hips lift closer to his mouth, and he presses down against your hips with one of his forearms and tuts at you.

“And if you need a break or for me to slow down?”

“Yellow,” you whine.

He slides his forearm to the side, placing his warm hand on your mount and pulls back slightly to expose your clit. “Look at you, little dove. So wet and perfect. Give me a colour.”

Goosebumps break out across your skin and you sink into the floor, wholly submitting to Joel as you whisper, “Green.”

Joel’s lips come to your center kissing your clit lightly before he dives in. Licking long hot lines from the bottom of your pussy to the top. Your hands fly to hair, carding through the girls and he groans at the slight pain in his scalp as you tug.

“Oh god, fuckfuck,” you chant out along with his name as he pulls a quick orgasm out of you almost immediately.

“Already, little dove?” He asks, smirking between licks.

“You feel so good. Joel.”

He continues to taste you, now focusing just on your clit with the flat of his tongue. He applies just the right amount of pressure and circles your sensitive bud slowly. You arch your back off the floor as a tingling pleasure starts to build.

“I’m gonna come again, baby.” You gasp, keeping your voice low even though you want to scream.

He keeps doing exactly as he has been, knowing you’re loving it and soon you fall apart for him again. The waves of this orgasm are stronger and you try to squirm out of his grasp as you come down from high.

“Too much. S’too much,” it’s almost a cry.

Joel pins your hips down again, and with his broad shoulders between your legs you can’t close them. “One more, little dove. You can give me one more.”

“No, please. Fuck me now. I can’t.” You’re practically panting and the mixture of the pleasure and the hot totty from earlier has your skin on fire.

His free hand comes between your legs. He gathers your arousal with his ring and middle fingers, effectively turning you into a writhing, moaning mess before slipping his fingers deep inside you and sucking your puffy clit between his lips.

You slide your feet closer to your body and try to squeeze your thigh shut. It’s no use, you could clamp Joel’s head between them like an MMA fighter but that wouldn’t stop him and you know it.

“Relax,” he murmurs before suckling on your clit again.

“Fuck me, god. So good.” You’re sure that’s what you say but at this point, you can barely form a thought.

He taps his finger along the front wall a few times before hooking them forward. Pleasure overwhelms you and you go boneless. Your knees fall open, your hands all from his hair and your eyes shut. This is how Joel likes you. Pliable. Agreeable. Completely his.

“There’s my pretty little dove,” he admires and flicks his wrist up and down to taunt your g spot while sucking harder on your clit.

Pressure builds at the base of your spine and you mumble how good it feels. It takes all the strength you can muster but you get yourself up on your elbows to push Joel’s finger in deeper and within seconds the pressure snaps and every fiber of your being is lit ablaze as you come for a third.

“Joel, fuuuuuck. Yes, mmmmm, oh god.”

He lets out a quiet, devious laugh and it vibrates against your pussy, causing another strong wave of your orgasm to flood your system. You need him to stop but never want him to stop at the same time. Your hips grind on their own as you come down. Joel knows your body better than anyone so he stops moving; just keeps his finger crooked forward and his tongue pressed to your clit and lets you take what you need.

The whimper that leaves your lips as you slow your hips is his cue to stop teasing your clit. He pulls back and whispers up at you.

“You’re so beautiful when you fall apart like that. My naughty little dove. Right in front of Santa Claus and everything, hmm?”

“Fuck me, Joel. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

He slips his fingers out slowly as he crawls up your body. His wet fingers come to your lips.

“Suck,” he commands, “But don’t swallow.”

Eagerly you suck his fingers into your mouth, lapping up your heady sweetness and letting it rest on your tongue. Joel slips his fingers from your lips and kisses you, ducking your tongue into his mouth and swallowing your arousal. You both moan in tandem, and as if his kiss has put you under some sort of spell you’re on the verge of coming again at just the feel of his strong body on top of yours. He breaks the kiss and then winces.

You stifle a laugh, “I guess we aren’t in our twenties anymore, are we?”

“No,” he huffs. “But that’s not going to stop me from fucking you on the floor tonight.”

You scratch your fingers through his soft, short beard. Admiring the way it’s more grey than just a few months ago.

“Why don’t you let me get on top, sir.” You soften your expression and bat your eyelashes, knowing he’s usually powerless under your puppy dog eyes.

He shifts his weight above you to his other knee; the left one, and you know that because it’s the one that bothers him less.

“You gonna listen when you’re up there?” His eyes darken as he says it. You aren’t sure what kind of punishment he could come up with the girls being home for the next two weeks, but you aren’t about to find out.

“Yes, sir,” you say with your voice full of sweetness. He rolls the two of you and you land on top of him with a quiet squeak. His legs part to make room for you between them. You already know what’s coming next.

“Take my cock out, little dove.” His voice a husky growl.

You sit up between his thighs, resting on your heels. Before following his demands, you reach for your bodysuit and slowly peel it off your body and over your head. He presses his lips together to stop the smile.

“No panties and that see-through red bra I love so much? Was someone planning to get fucked tonight?”

You trail your fingers along the cups of your bra, your nipples hardening at attention through the fabric. “Maybe,” you wink.

Joel sits up so quickly that it startles you, the strong muscles behind his soft tummy rippling as he does it. His hands wrap around your wrists and through gritted teeth he commands, “Then take out my fucking cock, little dove. Get it nice and wet. Then, when I tell you to, sit on it and stay still like a good little girl until I tell you what to do.”

You go to kiss him but he lays back down with his hands behind his head and a cock smile on his face. You’re panting, you’re not sure when that happened. You lick your lips and your hands fly to the button of his jeans. Undoing it with shaky hands and then pull at the zipper. He’s rock-hard behind his black boxers. He shifts his hips so you can tug the jeans and his underwear down to sit just below his ass. His cock springs free and you don’t waste a single second, grabbing it by the base and lowering your face towards him. He watches you intensely.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet, baby. Gotta make sure he can slide into that tight, little pussy of yours.”

You stop your lips mere inches from the tip of his leaking cock and look up at him. Without breaking eye contact you let saliva fall from your mouth and land on his cock. You clock the way his breathing halts as he watches it fall from your velvety lips to his aching cock, and the way he shudders an exhale as it runs down his shaft to your hand. You do it again, this time smiling up at him and then biting your bottom lip and the spit makes its sensual trail from his tip to your hand.

“Suck my cock, little dove. Now.”

Your lips are around his cock in an instant, sliding down as deep as you can go and holding it there. You breathe through your nose and let saliva pool in your cheeks before sliding up to the tip, coating his shaft with your spit. When you reach the top, you flick your tongue along the bottom ridge.

Joel groans, “Such a good listener.”

The praise washes over you, encouraging you to repeat your previous motion. You press him deeper this time, stopping when you feel him at the back of your throat.

“Fuck, little dove.” Joel’s voice is rough but full of admiration.

As your saliva starts to leak from your lips you pull back slowly, swirling your tongue along every ridge and vein that line the bottom of his cock. Your eyes meet his again as your tongue rounds the tip of his dick, the salty tang of his pre cum floods your system like a drug.

“Sit,” he accentuates the T and you scramble to straddle him.

You put your right knee on the floor, bending your left leg up so you can put your foot on the floor. This position saves one of your knees and you can usually get better leverage in a half squat versus a straddle. One of his hands comes to your right hip, the other wraps around his cock, holding it steady as you line yourself up.

The thick head prods at your entrance and you moan as you slide down the first few inches. “So good, Joel.”

“Mm-hmm, you have been good. Keep going, baby.” He releases his grip from his cock so you can take more of him. “That’s my girl. Taking it so well.”

You breathe through the stretch as your hips settle against his, then lean back to rest your hands on his muscle-packed thighs.

“Little dove, tell me how it feels.”

“Mmmm, so full,” you half whine, half pant.

He flexes his hips forward slightly at the neediness in your tone. “Gotta relax for me before you can move.”

His thumb comes to brush your clit. A small sob escapes your throat, “M’trying to.”

“I know, baby,” he coos, his thumb barely touching you as he circles it along your swollen clit. “You’re doin’ so good. Just breathe, little dove. Make room for my cock in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You make a conscious effort to relax; unclenching your jaw and then letting your shoulders fall. Your head lulls back, the star on top of the tree and the smell of pine needles surrounds you. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs and the pinch of him turns to pleasure.

“Good job, little dove. Are you ready to move?”

“Please. Oh gods. Please!”

“Sshhh, you’re ok. Nice and slow, honey.” His hand on your hip guides you back and forth. The motion is almost infinitesimal, but the forward rocking puts pressure on your g-spot and the thumb that still hovers about your clit. “Eyes on me now, baby.”

You tilt your chin down until your sparkling eyes meet his dark ones. He continues, “Can you do as you're told?”

You nod as a breathy plea leaves your lips, “Yes, sir. I will. Please, it feels so good.”

“I want you to ride me until you’re right on the edge of coming and then stop. Can you do that?”

“No,” you whine. “Why? I wanna come. Please.”

“You will. If you listen like the good little girl I know you can be, I’ll let you come. But first, you have to earn it.” He squeezes at your hip, his short nails digging into the skin.

You stick out your bottom lip and say a sad, “Okay.”

“Give me your hand.” You move one of his hands from his thighs. He guides your hand to your clit and then wraps his hand around your left ankle. “Show me, little dove.”

You take the reins, rubbing tight circles along your clit as you grind back and forth. Your orgasm builds in an instant.

“Shit can feel how close you are already,” Joel grits out.

“Please let me come. I’ll do anything.” You change to a circular motion, shifting your weight to the left, using the squat position for more friction.

“Don’t you dare! You said you can do as you're told,” he reminds you roughly, then uses the hand that was clamped on your right hip to slap your inner left thigh. “Don’t make me punish you.”

The pain from his strike sends warmth right to your core and you stop before you come. You let out a sad whine and fall forward, hands landing on either side of your head as you catch your breath.

“Please!” You murmur.

“God, little dove. You have no idea what it does to me when you listen like that. Such a good little submissive, aren’t you?” His hand runs from your right hip up your back, finger flicking the clasp of your bra open. “Sit back up. You earned it, little dove. Use my cock. Make us come.”

The lacy red bra slides down your arms as you sit up and you toss it towards the tree before riding him like it’s the last time. Your hands fly to your breast, rolling your nipples between your fingers in time with your hips. Nothing compares to the feeling of Joel's thick cock filling you. It’s indescribable and so fucking addicting even after almost fifteen years together.

The rough pad of his thumb loves back to your clit and you gasp. “Please don’t make me stop again, Joel. I’m so close.”

“I know, baby. I won’t. Fucking Christ, squeezin me so tight. I’m not gonna last.” The last part is a whimper.

“I’m gonna come,” you moan.

“Me too, little dove. Let go, fuuuck, let go for me.”

The sparks behind your clit turn into a fire, scalding every nerve ending as it spreads throughout your body. You bite down on your hand to stop from screaming as you twitch on his cock. Your pussy clenches tightly around him a few times before you feel him burst inside of you. His grip on your hip tightens again as he whines softly. Your eyes lock on his, the veins in his neck popping as he whispers your name and praises how good you feel wrapped around him.

Your highs seem to last forever before he reaches up to pull you down on top of him. Helping you shift your weight so you straddle him fully. He plasters you to his chest, the thin layer of both of your sweat mixing. Your heart races behind your ribs as you catch your breath, an occasional after-shock causing your pussy to flutter gently on his slowly softening cock.

“Oh my god,” you say, relaxing into his warmth.

“You ok, baby?” He sponges a kiss to your hairline.

“Mm-hmm. So good. Sleepy, but amazing.” Your mumble, kissing his chest.

His hands run along the lines of your back. “Good. Merry Christmas, little dove.”

[jensthwa]

a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget. 

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority. 

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever. 

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him. 

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound. 

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house. 

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them. 

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years. 

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek. 

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another. 

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street. 

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly. 

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.” 

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.” 

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them. 

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love. 

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.” 

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment. 

His friend was a very proud but not that  out gay man. 

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway. 

“Good luck with that, love.” 

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!” 

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him. 

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even. 

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi. 

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all. 

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either. 

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.” 

“You said you felt he was not the one.” 

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?” 

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.” 

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone. 

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well. 

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go. 

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in. 

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it. 

The noise quieting down, that is. 

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect. 

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you. 

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth. 

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it. 

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?” 

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart. 

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life. 

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you. 

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you. 

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship. 

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back! 

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you. 

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?” 

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it. 

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.” 

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.” 

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.” 

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move. 

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him. 

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long. 

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present. 

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two. 

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily. 

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it. 

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?” 

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.” 

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.” 

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.” 

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.” 

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes. 

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.” 

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!” 

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm. 

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room. 

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.” 

“My eyes are literally closed!” 

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway. 

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct: 

“Look up and open your eyes.” 

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks. 

“Love… That's so chees—” 

“Just kiss me, you idiot.” 

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him. 

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.” 

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling. 

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!” 

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets. 

“This is beautiful, love…” 

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts. 

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs. 

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum. 

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!” 

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?” 

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card. 

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.” 

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction. 

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um… 

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.” 

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks. 

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart. 

Kind of. 

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace. 

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis. 

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—” 

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears. 

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't even know what to say. 

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back. 

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?” 

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up. 

He points his finger at you “Wait here.” 

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat. 

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately. 

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart. 

Just like you hold his heart. 

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.” 

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger. 

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—” 

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him. 

“Shit, hold on—” 

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor. 

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?” 

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck. 

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again. 

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went. 

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his. 

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like. 

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared. 

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit. 

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him. 

He moans pathetically. 

You smile at the sound. 

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail. 

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone. 

“With the necklace on?” 

“And the sweater.” 

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression. 

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh. 

“Where did you learn this kink, love?” 

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…” 

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips. 

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?” 

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want. 

“Used her to get off?” 

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours. 

“Is that what you want me to do with you?” 

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want. 

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return. 

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you. 

He also knows you enjoy this. 

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal. 

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud. 

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?” 

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine. 

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?” 

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another. 

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home. 

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there. 

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then. 

Today, there’s not enough time. 

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin. 

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him. 

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched. 

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room. 

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well. 

He remembers he doesn't have much time. 

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue. 

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going? 

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling. 

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!” 

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace. 

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval. 

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.” 

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now? 

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you? 

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.” 

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before. 

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.” 

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up. 

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully. 

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum. 

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately. 

“That was…” 

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.” 

He gasps in feign offense. 

“Stop projecting, love.” 

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you. 

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back. 

“I want to marry you, Y/N.” 

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes. 

“Now?” 

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.” 

“Good thing you got my ring size right.” 

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him. 

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again.  “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.” 

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.” 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[cognitiveoverload]

The secret is out (Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader)

summary: You and Hotch have been dating for half a year in secret. When the team decides it's time to help Spencer ask you out during the Christmas dinner you host for them, Hotch realizes that it might be time to tell the truth.

note: Takes place after Hotch's divorce, but before Haley's death.

The whole Christmas dinner is the result of a chain reaction. You invited Penelope, who invited Derek, who invited Spencer, who invited JJ, who invited Emily, who invited Dave, and finally, Dave invited Hotch. And to make things worse, this time there is a plan—the plan to help Spencer make the first move and finally ask you out. 

When Dave tells Hotch about it in the car on the way to the dinner, he smiles and acts like it’s adorable. Normally, it would be exactly that. They all love Spencer, they all want him to be happy, but considering Hotch only left your apartment this morning, he isn’t the right person to ask for help with this. This only makes him wonder if you should make your relationship official, if you should tell the team that the two of you have been seeing each other for over half a year now. 

“The early birds,” you say with a warm smile when you open the door and let them inside.

Dave glances down at his watch for a brief moment, then, as he walks past you, he speaks up. “I guess it means we’re the first ones.” When you hum in agreement, he stops and turns to look at the other man. “I told you we’re gonna be way too early.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to tell him it wasn’t his idea to come together. He’s here exactly when he wanted to arrive, it’s not his fault that Dave decided to tag along. With a forced smile, he shrugs and shows you the two bottles of wine he brought as a gift. “Is there a wine cooler somewhere?” he asks casually.

You close the closet where you put their coats, then turn back to nod. “My parents love wine, so of course they have one,” you reply with a short laugh. “Not like they were alcoholics, they just… you know.” Hotch has to fight hard to keep his emotions in check, but you notice. You always notice. “Oh, sure, I’ll lead the way,” you say, signaling him to follow you. 

Since you made sure Dave was occupied with the photos in the living room, you quickly take the bottles from Hotch to put them in the cooler, then return to him with a seductive smile. “I missed you.” He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours as he speaks, knowing perfectly well this most probably makes your heart rate jump. “I’m sorry, Dave insisted on coming with me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a loving smile.

These are one of those rare occasions when Hotch can loosen up, getting lost in the moment, so he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap and kiss you gently, letting his arm sneak around your waist as he pulls you closer. He knows he has to warn you, and he knows you should know how he feels about that plan, but it’s so good to have you like this again. You’re like a drug, and he loves the high you give him, and each time he tastes your lips, he just knows you should make your relationship official.

As stupid as it is, he wants to let everyone know that you’re his, he wants to mark his territory, and if he has to face the wrath of his team for hiding something like this, so be it. Because whenever he sees you interact with his son, he knows this is what he wants, and not just with Jack, but with a child that’s yours entirely. This is what’s been on his mind lately, and the thought is driving him crazy.

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” he speaks up as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

But before he could go on, you hear Dave clear his throat in the door, and when you both turn to look at him, he’s watching you with a knowing smile. “I wanted to tell Hotch we left the gifts in the car, but I guess I’ll bring them in myself since he’s busy at the moment,” he announces teasingly. 

Hotch lets you go and takes a step closer to his colleague. “Dave, I can explain,” he says, knowing he should give an explanation. After all, he’s your boss, you’re a lot younger, and he just agreed to help Spencer ask you out a good half an hour ago. It probably doesn’t look good from the outside. 

Smiling, Dave shoves his hands into his pockets. “No need to explain, I’ve seen enough. The best you can do now is laying your cards on the table when we’re all together. Spencer really likes her, and tonight everyone will be doing their best to get them together. Just be honest,” he tells the two of you, then turns around to leave the house.

You wrap your arms around his body and bury your face into his chest, and he lets out a sigh before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “He’s right, we need to tell them,” he says softly, leaning back just enough to look you in the eye. 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. 

For a few moments you watch him with those big, doe eyes, which brings back his earlier thoughts. “There’s something I want to tell you before Dave returns,” he begins, his voice carrying the kind of uncertainty and vulnerability that he only allows to have around you. When you hum to make him continue, he exhales slowly to prepare himself. “I would like to have another child. With you.”

At first, you don’t react at all, as if the statement completely froze your brain. But then you slowly blink at him, your lips slightly parting as you take a breath. “A baby?” you ask quietly, earning a nod in response. 

“I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I know that I love you. Sure, we don’t have to start the baby project right away, I understand if you’re not ready,” he assures you.

A sweet smile slowly appears on your lips as you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you too, Aaron. And maybe having a little kid together isn’t such a bad idea,” you say kindly. But then the sweet smile shifts into a wicked one. “Can you stay the night? I hate to be alone in this stupidly big house, and I think I’ll be too lazy to drive home after dinner.” 

There’s something else, something you’re not telling him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. “Oh, wait, you mean…? Tonight?” he asks, unable to hide the confusion that slowly mixes with excitement. 

With an adorable giggle, you take his hand and lace your fingers. “Why not? Unless you have better plans,” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“If you’re serious about this, I won’t have better plans until we have a positive test,” he states before kissing you again.

“I think they’re looking for glasses in the kitchen.”

Hotch is quick to step away from you, grateful that Dave gave you a chance to find an excuse for being there alone. So, without much hesitation, you point at a cabinet and then move to another where your parents keep the coffee mugs. He takes out enough glasses for everyone, then heads to the dining room with them. He can see JJ and Dave discussing something, and she flashes a smile at him when their eyes meet.

“She’s in the kitchen?” JJ asks him, to which he replies with a nod. “I’ll see if she needs more help then.”

When she disappears, Hotch stands in front of Dave with an uncertain look on his face. “Thanks for the warning. We discussed this whole thing, and we’ll tell the team once everyone’s here. This is for the best,” he says. 

The other man lets out a short breath with an amused smile, but he doesn’t say a word–not yet. But then, at the moment they hear a car stopping, followed by the sound of a cheerful conversation, he finally opens his mouth to speak. “You’ll have to talk to HR about this.” Hotch nods. He’s painfully aware of that conversation. “But you both look happy, and if you’re both happy, I’m happy too.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips upon hearing this. It’s good. You have at least one person in your corner. 

Within a matter of seconds the remaining guests appear, smiling happily as they balance the wrapped gifts in their hands. Once the newcomers settle down, Hotch shepherds everyone into the living room, deciding that this is the perfect time to make the announcement, before the little schemers set their plan into motion. You look a little uncertain, but he doesn’t want to let you feel like that. He stands next to you, but he avoids physical contact for now. 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you all before we sit down to eat up all the food our generous host prepared,” he begins, and out of the corner of his eye he can see you roll your eyes. “You know me, you know I usually respect the regulations, but a few months ago I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want to stop after this conversation we’re having now. I just wanted you to all know that we started to date a few months ago,” Hotch says as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

Surprise, surprise, a little more surprise, and then there’s the look of betrayal on Spencer’s face. He avoids your gaze, and he doesn’t look at his boss either, but that’s okay, he didn’t expect him to start cheering. This might be tough for him, but he’ll get over it for sure. But the others soon turn supportive; they start to tease them, they come up with jokes, and some even begin to dig deeper to get some more details out of you two. You quickly loosen up enough to answer them, but Hotch doesn’t let you do the talking alone, he’s staying by your side the whole time to support you. 

You’re a little team of two now. Hopefully, you’ll be the mother of his youngest child in the future. It’s his duty to always protect you.

[bunni-v1]

Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year

🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)

Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS

Mdni

Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.

You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.

It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.

It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.

His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.

You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.

“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”

“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.

A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.

“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”

She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”

“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.

It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.

You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.

“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”

It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.

There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.

He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.

His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.

He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.

He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.

His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”

You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”

He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”

“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”

A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”

As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.

You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.

“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.

You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.

His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.

The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.

You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.

“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”

You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.

“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”

He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.

“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.

It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.

He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”

You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.

He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.

“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.

The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.

He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.

“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.

“They’ll hear—“

“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”

You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.

The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.

“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.

He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”

You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.

“Cum inside, please.” You beg.

“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“

You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”

He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.

He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.

“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”

You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”

[runninriot]

Four Stockings make a Pair

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 24

prompt: Stocking | rated: G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, feelings realisation

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+bonus epilogue)

   "Wayne, I'm back! Brought a little surprise for you!" Eddie calls out, feeling just a bit guilty when his uncle happily pokes his head into the hallway only to stop dead in his tracks.

   "How was- Oh. Hey, Robbie!"

Wayne hobbles towards them and, despite leaning heavy on one crutch, opens his free arm for the little girl that runs straight at him.

   "Grandpa Wayne! Why didn't you tell us you hurt your foot? We would've visited you a lot sooner, right dad?"

Something about their interaction makes Eddie's chest feel tight, hits him with a hint of jealousy but also makes his heart grow three sizes because it's nice to know that his uncle has people here that care for him when he's not around.

   "Hey, Wayne. Sorry to barge in like that. We, uh, we met Eddie at the community centre and-"

Watching Steve fumble for his words, awkwardly standing in the doorway like he's feeling caught, is almost too much to handle. But as endearing as it is to watch his pretty face turn pink, Eddie has mercy on him.

   "Robbie and I were craving your famous hot chocolate, so I invited them over."

Wayne shoots him a look that feels like a silent agreement to 'talk about this later' before he turns back to the girl with one of those rare smiles he doesn't give out freely.

   "Is that so? Well, we better make some then. Why don't you two get set in the living room while Robbie and I get on with it. You wanna help me, sweety?"

   "Yesss! Can I, dad?"

When Steve agrees, she takes Wayne's free hand and carefully leads him in the direction of the kitchen while telling him all about her afternoon.

   "We saw Santa today! He was so nice. And we took a picture with him and I told him what I want for Christmas!"

When Eddie and Steve enter the living room, Eddie's eyes immediately fall on the Christmas tree Wayne must've put up while he was gone - so much for resting his leg. Next to the tree, over the fire place, he notices four instead of only two stockings hanging from the mantelpiece and it makes him wonder if maybe Wayne was planning on sharing his little secret, had Eddie not already found out about it today.

It's hard to realise what he missed out on while being too focused on his own life. He could've visited sooner, more often - Wayne keeps telling him it's fine but Eddie still feels bad about only making his way back home twice a year.

   "I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve starts after a moment of awkward silence, “This must be so weird for you."

   "Nah, you're good. I guess I was just surprised Wayne hasn't told me about it."

   "Maybe he thought you wouldn't approve? I told him we haven't exactly been friends back then, because I was kind of a dick," Steve says bashfully and that startles a laugh out of Eddie.

   "What? No, Harrington. You were fine. Your friends, they were assholes but your only fault was that you were too cool to hang out with someone like me."

Now it's Steve's turn to laugh and it's a beautiful sound Eddie wants to hear more of.

   "Oh, shut up. You were waaay cooler than me!"

This goes back and forth for a while, with them bantering and play fighting with each other like friends, like it's never been any different between them. How it could’ve been all those years ago.

   "So, uh, you and Robbie. Why did you move back to Hawkins? I always imagined you'd make it into the big city, somewhere far away from here."

It's an instant mood killer, Eddie can tell by the way Steve's smile falters and his shoulders drop. But it's too late to take it back and he really wants to know.

   "Uh, you know. Sometimes life doesn’t turn out to be what you wanted it to be. Hawkins seemed like a good idea to get away from... everything. Until I realised that I had no one left here."

There's a sadness in Steve's voice that breaks Eddie's heart. He has to fight the urge to pull him into his arms, doesn’t know if he’s allowed to.

   "Then Wayne kinda... found me. I had just moved back and everything felt wrong. I was ready to just give up but then this stranger came into my life out of nowhere, asked if I needed help and- that's how we ended up becoming fam- friends."

His little slip-up doesn't go unnoticed and it makes Eddie feel all warm inside.

   "Wayne's always had a weak spot for strays,” he jokes, “Took me in when my life was falling apart, too. He's the best. I'm glad he found you."

Eddie reaches out for Steve’s hand, takes it in his. It’s not a hug but he hopes it still offers some comfort.

It should feel strange, to have Steve and his daughter invading in his home, fitting right in where it had always just been Wayne and him. Somehow making it feel... complete.

Making it hard for Eddie not to drown in the flood of emotions resurfacing from where they've been buried for a long time.

He thinks about Robbie's wish and wonders, if there's a universe in which he could be that person.

They let go of their hands when they hear Robbie and Wayne enter.

   "Eddie, look! I made mine with whipped cream. Like yours!"

And, yeah. He's already too deep, he can feel it.

The rest of the day goes by in a haze and when it's time for Steve and Robbie to leave, Eddie isn't ready to let them go.

   "Wanna spend Christmas with us?"

The question is out before he can think it through.

   "If- if that's okay? I don't-" Steve looks at Eddie, seems unsure.

Again, it's Wayne who saves them both.

   "We'd love to have you here."

[norrisleclercf1]

Day 21 of 25 Days of Christmas: Painting Christmas Ornaments together

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 923

It’s a cozy December evening, and the aroma of gingerbread wafts through the air as you sit cross-legged on the floor of your living room, surrounded by a colorful array of ornaments and paint supplies. Most people would probably have their holiday shopping sorted by now. Still, you and Charles decided it was time to unleash your creative sides—specifically, through a fun and slightly disastrous ornament painting date.

Charles, with his expressive gestures and boyish charm, is adorably concentrated. He’s currently trying to figure out how to paint a snowman, but it’s slowly becoming an abstract interpretation. You can’t help but chuckle at his furrowed brow and the red paint splattered on the tip of his nose. “Do you need help?” you tease, leaning over to get a better look.

“I think I’ve got this,” he insists, his voice full of determination. “It’s just a snowman. How hard can it possibly be?” With a flourish, he adds a few blobs of color for buttons that look suspiciously like they’ve been spilled rather than carefully placed. You can see the intensity in his dark eyes and get lost in its charm briefly.

“Alright, Picasso, let’s see your snowman!” you laugh, challenging him to show off his creation.

He holds it up proudly, and it’s so lopsided you nearly spit out your hot cocoa. “Behold, my masterpiece!” he declares dramatically.

You’re still giggling uncontrollably when you say, “It looks like he’s just come from a very chaotic party rather than a winter wonderland!” The playful jab earns you a mock glare.

“Excuse me! At least I’m trying to innovate here,” he grins. “What are you working on?”

You point to the ornament you’re carefully painting—a lovely detailed reindeer turning out beautifully (if you do say so yourself). “This is going to be the star of the tree. Just wait and see!”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to show me up?” he gasps in mock horror. “I see how it is. It’s a competition, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” you reply, a playful determination in your voice. “And I intend on winning. Just watch; my ornament will be the first one hung on the tree!”

Charles leans closer, tilting his head as he inspects your work. “Fine, but you need to show me your techniques,” he presses. “Maybe I can take some pointers from my talented partner.”

“Ready for a lesson then?” you ask, unable to contain your excitement. You guide him step by step on how to create a perfect snowman. Each stroke of paint is accompanied by laughter as he tries to replicate your skilled hand movements. Soon enough, he’s turned his abstract sprinkles into something vaguely resembling a snowman, complete with a lopsided carrot nose.

“I think he’s getting a personality—look how cheerful he is!” he says, trying to defend his creation as it becomes more apparent that it has taken on a life of its own.

“He looks like he’s seen things,” you say, stifling laughter. “You may need to tone down the creativity there!”

The room's atmosphere is warm and filled with laughter, and you can’t help but find joy in Charles's silly antics. Seeing Charles covered in paint and his contagious laughter makes the evening feel special. There’s something satisfying about creating and getting your hands dirty; doing it together makes it even more fun.

After a bit more time painted on your hands, you both decide it’s snack time. As you take a break, you pop a cookie into your mouth and see him reaching for a paintbrush again. “You’re going to mess up your masterpiece even more!” you warn, grinning.

“I’m just trying to make him more colorful,” he says, waving his brush as if painting mid-air.

“Remember, less is more,” you advise, flicking off a bit of paint from his cheek while teasing him. “Art is about subtlety, my dear.”

“Subtlety is overrated!” He chuckles. “After this, I’m going straight to exhibit my work. You’ll see, everyone will love it!”

“Sure they will! And I’ll be there in a reindeer sweater, cheering you on,” you joke, making a mental note of the ridiculous festive outfit you might have to wear just for laughs.

Eventually, you both finish your ornaments—yours glistening with holiday cheer and his—a wild creation full of laughter and uniqueness. As you set them aside to dry, Charles glances at you, the light from the fairy lights dancing across the room, giving it a magical glow. “We said we’d paint ornaments, but I had way more fun than expected. Thanks for being my partner in this chaos.”

“I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” you reply softly, a smile lighting up your face. “It’s moments like these that make the holidays special.”

He reaches for your hand, a sincere look in his eyes. “Let’s make it a tradition, shall we?”

You nod eagerly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Next time, we can even invite friends to join! More chaos, more laughter. And maybe I can help you paint…properly this time.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees, laughter bubbling between you as you both imagine future holiday mishaps.

As the evening winds down, you set your finished pieces on a nearby table to admire them. They’re not just decorations but reminders of this delightful night and the joyful banter that filled it. Leaning back against the couch, you realize that even a simple evening spent painting ornaments can become an unforgettable adventure with Charles. The holidays are about connection and joy; you’ve captured both beautifully tonight.

[st4rrzynight]

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭– 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

𝟏𝟎:𝟓𝟑 𝐏𝐌. i anxiously stared at the time on my phone. it has almost been an hour and paige still hasn't shown up. tonight is my birthday, she promised she'd show up after she washed up from tonights game.

i'm looking around as my friends converse around me in my apartment. my roommates have already questioned me on the absence of my girlfriend. i wish i knew why she wasn't here either.

i enter the passcode to my phone in a hurry as i pull up her contact and type out a message.

Paige 💜🫶

hey, where are you? everyone’s asking about you... are you on your way?

i'm so sorry, babe. i can’t make it.

what?

i know, i know. I feel awful about it, but something came up the team wanted me to come celebrate tonights win with them

its my birthday paige you promised you would be here. going out with the team is suddenly more important than your girlfriends birthday?

it's not just "going out". it's to celebrate tonights win, and it's kind of a big deal. if i don't show up, it could look bad. i don't want to let them down, you have to understand.

no paige, i don’t understand. I’m standing here, surrounded by my friends, and i have to keep making excuses as to why you’re not here. do you know how embarrassing that is? to not have my own girlfriend show up to celebrate my birthday??

i'm sorry, okay? i’ll make it up to you. i’ll take you out somewhere nice tomorrow just the two of us, yeah?

no paige it’s not about “making it up.” it’s about showing up when you say you will. but you NEVER do.

that’s not fair. you know how much pressure i’m under i just want to celebrate the win, look i'll make it up to you tomorrow i promise.

paige i am so tired of this. seriously, you keep making empty promises, you get my hopes up only for you to tell me a half assed excuse that you pulled straight out of your ass last minute.

please don’t do this right now. i’ll call you after i leave.

don’t bother, we're done.

what??

read 10:56

what do you mean were done??

read 10:58

y/n answer me please baby

read 10:59

please ill do anything ill make it up to you i promise please answer my message baby

⚠︎︎ not delivered

꥟

ᵖᵃⁱᵍᵉˢ ᵖᵒᵛ

two years. 730 days. i lost her two years ago today, i lost it all. i know it was my fault, i put everything above her and i deeply regret it. now i have to live life in regret watching from the sidelines as she celebrates her birthday once again. this time, with her girlfriend.

her laugh filling the air knowing i used to be the cause of that laughter. admiring her from across the bar, sitting in between my teammates as they make conversation yet i can't bring myself to take my eyes off of her.

i scan ever inch of her body my eyes stopped on her wrist, then her fingers, then her neck. every single piece of jewelry i got her, gone. none of it in sight as if it never existed.

a hand on her thigh from a woman who was a copy of me. blonde, blue eyes, tall, and she plays soccer. but its not me. it will never be me again.

i can't even blame her, thats why i hate it. i hate that i can't hate her no matter how hard i try because in the end i will always love her and it will always be her.

even if i'm not her happy ever after. i distract myself trying to find someone new but it never ends well. i always find similarities between the girls i've gone on dates with and her. thats what attracts me to them, the fact that they slightly even look like her. but they will never compare to her full look, no one will.

so for the rest of time ill find myself watching from the sidelines seeing her take on life with someone who isn't me by her side, someone who looks like me but is not entirely me.

it will always kill me, it's going to eat me alive till i die. knowing that i'm not hers anymore, i won't be looking for her in the student section knowing shes there. instead ill be looking for her in the student section in hopes she decided to show up, but i know she didn't. she's going to be in the student section of the soccer games watching and cheering on her.

i won't be able to buy her flowers anymore, instead i watch as she gets gifted flowers by another woman. except those aren't her favorite. they're the wrong flowers.

i wont be able to buy her the perfume she always wears when it runs out, her signature scent that i always loved. instead i watch as she gets gifted perfume by another woman. she sprays it into the air and by the time it reaches where i sit i know its not the one she loves. its the wrong perfume.

i won't be making late night sephora trips, picking out her favorite makeup products when shes running low. instead i watch as she gets gifted makeup by another woman. its the wrong brand.

because of my mistakes, ones that i regret so deeply, i now live with the gnawing feeling knowing that she now loves a woman who doesn't pay attention to small details and gifts her all the wrong things, on her birthday of all days, but she showed up. i didn't.

clearly i lacked attention to detail as well if i couldn't see how much i truly disappointed and hurt her and didn't even show up. i wish it went down differently.

every shooting star, every coin toss into a fountain, every time the clock hits 11:11, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion, my last two birthdays, my only wish was to have her back.

but i cant.

not anymore.

and it hurts.

i open up my phone clicking on her contact, i type out one last message, even if i know she won't ever get it. i type it out and send it as some type of closure.

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

⚠︎︎ not delivered

𝐚/𝐧 — 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫

𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 —

@uwupaige @jadasogay @sweetluna20

[penkura]

Merry Christmas, Ace

Summary: You and Ace enjoy the morning of your first Christmas married.

Note: I hope you all enjoyed these Christmas themed fics! :) I'm taking a break until the new year, so I'll see you guys then! 💚 Small note warning for pregnancy but that's it. :)

Ace has this unfounded fear that one day, he’s going to wake up and you’ll be gone. He worries you’ll decide you don’t want to he with him anymore, too much emotional baggage and daddy issues with your husband to bother anymore, and you’ll just up and leave him someday. He knows it’s silly, you wouldn’t have married him if you were going to leave so easily, you’ve told him that before when he’s spoken this worry to you.

Still though, it’s always there when he wakes in the morning, even on Christmas when he sees you still fast asleep beside him, breathing a sigh of relief to see you. He stays and watches you sleep for a few minutes, still unable to believe this is real and you married him.

You’re really the best thing in his life, apart from his brothers of course.

On days like today, where he wakes before you, Ace will stay up and watch you sleep for a bit, sometimes he thinks you’ll wake up and be weirded out by it, but when he’s woken up to you do the same, or kissing his freckles to wake him, he thinks you probably don’t mind if he watches you for a few minutes. Especially so when you do wake up, seeing Ace wide awake, and giving him a sleepy smile that he returns before you throw an arm across his chest and bury your face in his neck, making him laugh.

“Good morning, [Y/N].”

“G’morning…” Smiling again, you place a kiss on Ace’s cheek, “Merry Christmas~”

“Merry Christmas, babe. Wanna get up and open gifts?”

“Mm…sure!”

You both still take a bit to get all together, it’s just the two of you this morning, Luffy and Sabo will come by later for the rest of the holiday and their own gifts from you. Its nice to have them come by often, for Ace to see his brothers whenever he can. Luffy and Sabo have already spent many nights in your house having sleepovers, they wants things to stay as normal as they can now that you two are married and you don’t mind when they stay over, so long as the three brothers aren’t loud.

Once you’ve gotten up and to your living room, though it’s not a lot, you and Ace go back and forth with the few gifts you’ve gotten each other. Its mostly clothing items you’ve both wanted and a few fun things like games, but it’s still nice to know you both pay attention to what the other wants or needs, you’re grateful that Ace pays attention to you.

“Well,” Ace sighs and brings you over to him, kissing the top of your head, “Guess we gotta clean up before Sabo and Luffy get here.”

“Mm-hm,” When Ace moves to get up, you stop him with a smile, “Actually…I have one more gift for you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Ace is confused while you reach over the end of the couch, pulling out another rectangular box and passing it over to him once you sit back down. He’s not sure what you’ve done, but the label that reads ‘To: Daddy, From: Mommy’ makes his breath catch in his throat as he snaps his head over to you.

“Are…what…you’re—”

“You should open it, Ace.”

The grin you have while Ace looks from you to the gift and back with wide eyes makes his heart rate pick up, especially with the tears he can see forming in your eyes when he finally opens it. He starts to tear up too, seeing an ultrasound image, baby onesies,  and the positive pregnancy test in the box.

“Are, are you,” he’s trying so hard not to cry but Ace starts to pull you closer to him, bringing you into his lap, “Are you sure? You’re…you’re pregnant?”

“Mm-hm,” you wrap your arms around his neck and let Ace bury his face in your shoulder, you know he’s happy just in shock, “When I had the flu earlier this month and went to the doctor, he ran several tests to figure out what was making me so sick and, well, it was the flu but also our baby. I was going to wait for your birthday next week to tell you…but I just couldn’t anymore.”

You let him have the few minutes he needs to let the information settle, but once it does, Ace quickly stands up still holding you, and spins you just a bit with a laugh before setting you down. He takes your face in his hands, grinning away as he rubs his nose against yours before kissing you. Its unexpected, you’ve not even been married a year, but he’s just so happy.

“A baby! Our baby!! This is…this is the best gift ever!”

Ace hugs you tight while you let out a relieved breath, glad he’s happy about your pregnancy and that you’ll be parents in a few months. You know he’ll want to know more later, like your due date and anything your doctor told you, but for now, you’ll enjoy the happiness radiating off him as he holds you, and how you spend the rest of your morning lying on the couch with Ace wrapped around your middle, his head against your stomach as he tries to talk to your baby already, telling them he’s excited to meet them, how Luffy and Sabo will be happy too, and you’ll be the best mom ever, he’s sure of it.

You hug Ace close to you, kissing the top of his head and smiling away yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Ace.”

[writingwisterias]

Day 24: Pregnancy Kink

Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Pregnant! Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, Pregnancy kink, established relationship

Masterlist

There were many presents underneath the tree, some beautifully hand wrapped by you and some had an attempt by Leon. The lights gave off a warm glow against the red and gold theme, a few personalized baubles lingering in spots. Tinsel decorated the walls in low hung strips, along with various other decorations. Leon loved it. This small home he had found and crafted with you at the heart. His present was the biggest this year, his eyes often lingering on it as he tried to figure it out without touching. A small game he had made for himself. You both wanted a quiet Christmas one final one before the impending arrival of your first baby came. So your parents had dropped off their gifts, the pile larger than he had ever seen. Most of them no doubt for the baby.

You were elsewhere in the house, he could hear the sweet tunes leave your lips as you hummed to yourself. He hated how active you were still, despite only being 6 months along. Always finding things to do, thanks to his job you were able to take an early maternity leave and not worry about the financial situation from it. He found you in the nursery, folding up the many clothes you had been preparing since finding out the gender. A girl. Something that he didn't know he needed until he found out, his heart already full of love for her.

“She's not even here yet and has got you doing her laundry” he joked. You jolted slightly after having not heard him enter the room but you still greeted him with a warm smile. The brightest thing he has ever laid his eyes on. “Someone's gotta do it, her daddy has been staring at the presents all day” you teased. Oh how you loved his laugh, the natural belly laugh he only seemed to use when you were around. “Maybe I can open one early?” He smirked “might tempt me not to stare at them anymore”

“You are talking like you already have you eye on one”

Of course he did. He was a giant child at heart, practically swaying on his feet as he waited for your answer. You nodded, holding your hands out for him to help you up. You smiled as his hands instantly found your waist, tucking you into his side as he sped walked into the living room. His smile was childish as looked amongst the gifts, searching the tags for the ones that signed your name. You watched as he realized the one he wanted was from you, heavy and hard. Almost like a book. “Choosing that one?” you smirked at him. Leon nodded his hair falling all over his face as he exaggerated the movement.

His fingers worked delicately on the tape, making sure not to rip the wrapping paper. It was definitely a book only the cover was black, adding to the alluding mystery he had created in his small mini game. He could see you smile - a small timid one as he opened the pages. An album, filled with images of a place he didn't recognize. It wasn't until he turned the next page he was shocked. Your maternity photo shoot…in lingerie?

Leon had made numerous comments on your changes as they came, his erection more prominent when he would gaze upon at night. ‘There's nothing sexier than what you are doing for our future’ he would always claim. He was more than happy to satisfy your hormones early on in the pregnancy. His cock was probably red and sore with the amount of times you woke him up needing him. Yet as you grew your frustrations increased but his willingness to help decreased in fear of hurting you. Something completely justified but it left you aching. To combat this you booked a boudoir shoot. Dressing yourself up and being guided into the sexier positions with the photographer. The idea was being saved until a wedding came around, always wanting to give it to him on your wedding day. But times grew desperate as did you.

“Honey this is…wow”

That's all he has to say? After that time and money you put into modelling this, just for a touch. You were sad, almost going to cry because of these damn hormones until you saw it. The curve in his sweatpants that slowly grew with a small twitch. His breath hitching as he turned the page. Leon couldn't describe how turned he was, the erection came almost instantly. At least he knew his drinking hadn't affected it yet. You had made him his own version of a playboy magazine, looking extremely attractive whilst being swollen with evidence of himself. “Is it good?” You asked, your voice timid as you shrunk in on yourself. Leon chuckled, his eyes finally meeting yours with a darkened glare. One that held only pure admiration and lust.

He stalked over to you, sitting on the sofa beside you. His lips encased your own, keeping you trapped in a whirlpool of affection and passion. His hands fell onto your hips gently hitching up the fabric of your summer dress until he found the waistband of your underwear. “Leon? Did you like it?”

His heart cracked at you attempting to seek his approval, as if his actions weren't words enough as your insecurities grew. “I loved it”

With that he guided you on his lap, enjoying the feel of you as your lips crashed against each other in another battle for dominance. Your hands worked on his buttons whilst he slipped your underwear aside. Leon slid into you with ease, his thrusts shallow and small as you worked yourself on his cock. Admiring your breasts in the small dress you were wearing, how they now grew in size. Your small belly pressing against his as you rocked against him. It was heavenly, he wanted nothing more than to be treated like this. In the corner of his eye he could see the present open on the floor, the imagery only spurring him on further until he finally felt his balls tighten.

His load coated your walls, the warmth spreading inside causing them to flutter and clench around his softening cock as you orgasmed around him. Your head landed in his neck, catching your breath. After all, it had been a while since you could do this for so long. Leon lifted you up, the two of you still connected. Silently carrying you to the bedroom where you assumed he was going to continue giving you an early Christmas present.

Taglist: @kasueli@luvrgreyy@michellekmsh@miss0giarra@cinnabunnysavvy@redollface@my-loved-figure-skates@luvlouiee@drawboo22@moth-quasar@nyxxoxo@crazy-b1tch

[sc0tters]

What If I’m Cold? | Mat Barzal

summary: when one winter night gets a little cold, Mat has the perfect solution to help you fall asleep.

requested: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, oral (fem receiving!) unprotected p in v, cock warming, swearing.

word count: 2.31k

authors note: merry Christmas to all those celebrating! I really did want to get something out for him for Christmas and I gave up on a different idea so we instead used him for another smut!

You hated the cold.

The different scarves and excuse to stay home and watch Christmas movies with your hot chocolate, couldn’t amount to the way you hated the cold.

Your body would freeze and it seemed that the moment the weather broke through the many layers you were constantly forced into, you were fucked. Most people loved how the snow made the perfect excuse to stay inside, and how the rain made a serene lullaby.

The summer was where you thrived, frozen margaritas and long days in the sun with picnics on the beach were your summer. But as you lived in New York, you had no choice but to suck it up.

That was how you ended up looking as if you were auditioning to be a cocoon with all the layers of thick blankets and duvets on top of you. The heat was as high as it could go without him fully burning up from next to you.

“Baby I can feel you fidgeting.”

The words made you freeze as you looked at the clock seeing the time on his bedside table reading 3:00 in red illuminated numbers “I can’t sleep.” You whined still feeling your cold feet, that hadn’t seemed to warm.

It made him smile as he finally opened his eyes “and what am I meant to do about that?” Mat blinked rolling over to face you.

Even after four and a half years of living together, the sight of your cold body in bed never failed to make him laugh as you really did believe that you couldn’t have enough blankets. His eyes felt as if they dug into your soul “I don’t know.” You batted your eyelashes as you let your foot settle between his legs wanting to warm them up.

It resulted in a high pitched screech that came from his lips as he almost jumped out of your bed “fuck me you’re freezing!” Mat yelled making you softly laugh.

The gesture was innocent as you let a giggle slip from your lips “‘s not my fault.” You grumbled watching him get settled back into his side of the bed.

There was this comfort that settled over you both as he let out a yawn “just try to get some sleep.” His voice was soothing as he watched you frown “can you at least cuddle me?” You pleaded letting out a whine as he remained silent.

“Please.” You begged, dragging out the E making him click his tongue “c’mere.” He mumbled moving the blankets up so that you could crawl into the space next to him. The move was quick as you weren’t going to waste any time, incase he hesitated or even changed his mind.

A snow storm had settled over New York in the late hours of the previous day, so as many cheered for the definite white Christmas. You were cursing the way the cold practically nipped at your soul “stupid snow.” You grumbled causing a laugh to erupt from his lips as he kissed the lobe of your ear.

His hands wrapped around the waistband of your pants. He always found it so funny that even with your hatred of winter, you loved those long Christmas pyjamas.

You softly nodded as you let your eyes travel to the picture on bedside table. It was a framed one of the two of you, grinning as Mat had convinced you to join him for a skate at the Rockerfeller Center. Oh how you laughed so hard that day as you could barely stand upright without landing on your ass.

Mat could feel that you remained awake, even as he tried to let his slumber consume him “what is it baby?” His voice way rough, echoing in your ears “I promise I’ll go to sleep soon.” You tried to brush it off, wanting him to not be tarred with the same lack of sleep as you.

But after all these years, Mat knew that you weren’t just going to fall asleep. In fact, you would happily stare into the abyss until the sun rose if you couldn’t fall asleep.

So instead Mat did the only thing he could as he let his hand grip at your hip “baby.” His voice was sweet as he peppered the side of your neck with kisses.

It made your breath hitch as you gripped at the pillow beneath you “let me warm you up.” Mat knew his suggestions were right as he felt you drive your body back into his.

You rolled over again, getting to look up at him as he smiled “you don’t have to.” You let your cold hands run over his collarbone, a purple hickey decorated the one “ain’t gotta worry about being cold my pretty girl.” Mat cooed as he tucked his fingers through the ends of your hair.

His words made your thighs clench together. He took little effort to get on top of you as he smiled “always did love these on you.” Mat confessed toyed with the buttons on pink pj top that was complimented by blue bows “but I know they are better off.” His voice was devious as he kissed you.

The feeling of his stubble was rough against your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to care as you could taste the minty toothpaste that he had used only a couple of hours ago.

You melted into his touch as he tilted your jaw getting more access as his tongue swiped across your lower lip as he pulled away, pressing soft kisses against your jaw and slowly traveled down your neck “please Matty.” You begged feeling his hands press under your shirt before he began to open the buttons.

Mat sat up to look at you as if he was admitting a statue crafted by the gods “can’t say no when you ask so nicely.” You propped yourself up when you watched him shimmy under the covers, making you realise that you weren’t as cold as you once felt.

The hockey player pulled your pants down, letting out a hum of praise as you lifted your hips to help him “always been my prefect girl.” Mat pressed a kiss against each of your thighs as he let his hand cup your cunt, feeling just how soaked you were.

As the anticipation got the better of you, you pulled the sheet up to see his tooth grin staring back at you “oh fuck-” you brought your hand up to cup your mouth as he chuckled “ain’t even done nothing yet doll.” He smirked reaching his hand up to tug on your arm.

You didn’t put up a fight as you nodded “you know that moaning helps you warm up.” Mat didn’t give you a chance to respond as he ran his tongue through your folds “god!”you arched your back driving your hips further into his hold.

His fingers soon followed suit as he latched his lips into your clit whilst he let his fingers thrust into your cunt “such a sweet cunt.” Mat grunted sending shivers through your body “all for me too ain’t it?” He smiled tugging at your hips.

You nodded as he went back to lapping at you as if you were his last meal “always yours Mat.” You moaned allowing your fingers to latch into his locks of hair.

The feeling of his facial hair against your cunt was a sensation that you had grown to love during the November months as the team always feel into a movember bet of sorts.

His hand slid up your stomach to your breast as he let your nipple roll between his fingers “holy fuck Mat.” Your eyes screwed shut as you pushed your head into your pillow.

There was a pornographic moan that left your lips as your cunt clenched around his fingers that made his cock grow hard as he let his tongue swirl around your sensitive bud. He opted to change to his middle and ring ringer as he could sense that you were close.

Your thighs began to tense around his head “I-i.” Your voice stammered as your chest heaved “I know sweet girl, just let it go.” His blessing made you pant and your body shook.

Mat curved his fingers into a come here motion as the movement of his tongue became needy, as if he was craved your release just as much as you did.

His name fell in a steady stream of repetition as you rolled your hips against his face as your vision grew dark with whit stars painted across your eyelids “so sweet.” He smirked as his lips left your cunt with a pop as he sucked at his fingers whilst he stared at dazed eyes.

A soft smile formed on your lips as your eyes traveled down his body, as if you took a mental image of chiseled torso all the way down to his bulge that popped in his grey boxers “still think I’m pretty cold.” There was cheekiness in your voice as the boy smirked “is that so?” He asked as you nodded.

It was amusing how after all these years the two of you never seemed to lose that playful joy that lived within this relationship.

Mat would have pulled you on top of him but the sight in front of him, was one for the sorest of eyes “still so needy.” He clicked his tongue as he leaned down with barely any space between you both “that’s the pot calling the kettle black.” You rolled your eyes as you placed your hands on his cheeks bringing him into a kiss.

His hips dragged against yours making you jump as your cunt was still sensitive “fucker!” You grumbled as Mat let his head drop to the crook of your neck as he laughed.

The boy left his head there as he focused on tugging down the waistband of his boxers “shit I need you so bad.” He nipped at your shoulder whilst he pumped the swollen head of his cock a few times “please baby.” Your nails scratched along his spine as he nodded.

His cock tapped your clit twice before he dragged the head down your slit as he placed his free hand next to your head, allowing him to prop himself up as he stared into your eyes “fucking hell.” Your hand gripped his wrist as he let his cock get swallowed by your cunt until pubic bone was met with your hips.

The way your walls stretched to the shape of his cock at an instant was enough to make him contemplate cumming on the spot “Mat.” Your voice barely broke a whisper as he nodded, beginning to pull away from you.

A mix of street and Christmas lights shone through a crack in the curtain as it hit the gold necklace that sat around your neck with the little M comfortable between your breasts.

The sight made him grow feral almost as he lifted your thighs wrapping your legs around him “you feel so good.” Mat cooed beginning to thrust his cock deeper into your cunt with the new angle.

Mat kissed your lips as you let out a whimper “just like that.” You whimpered sending him a nod as your lips hung open, lost in the pleasure you felt as he fucked you “shit.” The hockey players eyebrows furrowed as you clenched around him feeling his cock throb.

His eyes traveled down to see where your skin smacked against his as he let out a grunt “wanna hear you.” Mat kissed at your neck, sucking new bruises that were sure to leave a mark.

You let your lip get caught between your teeth as you let your hips grind against his, desperate to chase your high “please.” You nodded letting your hands scratched his back.

Mat continued to hit all the right spots as he let his thumb fall to your clit “just like that.” Your moans echoed against the walls around you as tears formed in your eyes.

Pleasure clouded your mind “fuck Mat so good.” You whimpered feeling your body spasm against him as your toes curled.

For Mat that was what sent him over the ended as his release shot ropes against your walls as his head rested on top of yours “that was so fucking hot.” You swore feeling him pull out of you.

Mat smiled as he rolled off of you, watching as the mix of both of your releases oozed out of your cunt “atta’ girl.” He pressed a kiss against your temple as you let out a yawn “finally gonna get to sleep now huh?” Mat asked as he lay down back on his own side as you let your legs shut whilst he used his hand to bring your pants up.

Just as the boy let his eyes shut you let out a sigh loud enough for him to look at you “what?” He asked seeing that your arms were clearly buttoning up your top.

You let your smile grow as you sucked at your teeth “what if I get cold during the night?” The silence that hung around you both, made it clear he was listening and had taken the bait.

His hands were rough against your stomach as your pants were pulled down just enough for him to move your legs open “you happy?” Mat scoffed thrusting his cock back into your cunt knowing that he was still hard and your cunt was slick with lust and release.

You nodded feeling him kiss your head “absolutely fabulous.” You clenched around his cock feeling him slowly continue to thrust his cock before he let it stop.

His fingers slowly toyed with your cunt as if he was coaxing you into your slumber“such a fucking brat.” He grumbled letting his legs entangle yours “yeah but I’m your brat.”

[bbokarimenu]

Snowed in With you

pairing: bangchan! x fem reader!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

an: Merry Christmas lovely’s 💚❤️

Masterlist

The snow had been falling for hours, blanketing the streets of Seoul in a shimmering white coat. The flakes drifted lazily outside the window, illuminated by the warm glow of Christmas lights. I pulled the curtains closed with a small sigh, hugging my arms as the cozy warmth of our apartment wrapped around me.

It was Christmas Eve, and for once, Bang Chan had the entire day off. It felt like a miracle. Between practices, performances, and managing his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely had time to just… breathe. But tonight, the world had gifted us a quiet moment—just us, no schedules, no distractions.

“Y/N, what’s taking so long? I need your help!” Chan’s voice called from the living room, laced with mock urgency.

Rolling my eyes fondly, I stepped into the room, where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst a chaotic pile of tinsel, ornaments, and what looked like a very tangled string of Christmas lights. He had a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, and his sweater—a gaudy masterpiece featuring a reindeer with flashing LED antlers—lit up every few seconds.

“You started without me?” I teased, picking up the nearest ornament.

Chan gave me an exaggerated pout. “I was just trying to untangle the lights, but it’s like they have a personal vendetta against me. Help me out before I lose my mind.”

I chuckled, kneeling beside him. “Alright, let’s do this. But if you break any ornaments, you’re on cleanup duty.”

“Deal.” He grinned, scooting closer as we began the painstaking process of untangling the lights.

An hour later, the tree was finally decorated, its branches adorned with twinkling lights, mismatched ornaments, and a slightly crooked star at the top. We stepped back to admire our handiwork, Chan’s arm casually slung around my shoulders.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding approvingly. “I mean, it’s definitely got character.”

“Character?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s just your way of saying it’s a mess.”

“It’s a beautiful mess,” he corrected, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple. “Just like us.”

I swatted his chest, laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his dimpled smile making my heart flutter.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of holiday clichés. We baked cookies—though Chan ate most of the dough before it even made it to the oven—and danced around the kitchen to Christmas music, our laughter filling the small apartment. At one point, he pulled me into his arms for a slow dance, the lights from the tree casting a soft glow over us.

“You know,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine, “I don’t get to do this often enough.”

“Dance in the kitchen?” I teased, trying to lighten the sudden seriousness in his tone.

Chan chuckled, but his eyes stayed soft. “No. Spend time with you. Just… be here. Like this.”

I felt my chest tighten at his words. I knew how much pressure he was under, how hard he worked to juggle everything. Moments like this—just the two of us, no interruptions—were rare. Precious.

“Well,” I said, my voice quiet, “I’m glad we have tonight.”

“Me too.” His arms tightened around me, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

Later that night, we curled up on the couch with a blanket and a plate of slightly burnt cookies. A Christmas movie played in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. I was too busy watching the way Chan’s face lit up every time he laughed, the way his dimples deepened when he smiled.

“You’re staring,” he said, catching me in the act.

I shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

His ears turned pink, and he ducked his head, trying to hide his grin. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you’re flustered,” I countered, poking his cheek.

“Stop.” He laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me closer. “Come here.”

I let him tug me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me as he rested his chin on my shoulder. We sat like that for a while, watching the snow fall outside the window, the room filled with the soft hum of Christmas music and the warmth of being together.

As midnight approached, Chan reached behind the couch and pulled out a small, wrapped box.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from him.

“Open it and find out.” His smile was almost shy, a rare sight that made my heart skip a beat.

Carefully, I peeled back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate silver bracelet. Dangling from it was a tiny charm shaped like a star, its edges sparkling in the light.

“Chan,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re always saying how much you love looking at the stars,” he said, his voice soft. “I thought maybe this could be a little reminder. You know, for when I’m not around.”

I blinked back tears, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. “I love it. Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered back, leaning into him.

The snowstorm raged outside, but inside, everything was warm and safe. In that moment, wrapped in Chan’s arms with the glow of the Christmas tree around us, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect holiday.