#I'm still trying to get his head shape right

[organic-bloodbath]

can you pls do a thanks x reader where reader is like lowk a bad ass. enemies to lovers kind of thing. maybe they have known each other for years. she tripped up during mingle but someone saved just in the nick of time but later in the bathroom he yells at her telling her he can’t lose her because he loves her. and then they kiss and stuff and fall asleep together (im a sucker for angst with a fluffy ending🙏)

I love you, fucking idiot

Thanos x Reader

Summary: As above.

A/N: Hope you like 🫶🏻

☆☆☆

You and Thanos had known each other since middle school. You wouldn't consider the two of you friends, honestly you didn't really know what you were since you wouldn't think of you as enemies either. You had always disliked him, atleast that's what you thought, but it wouldn't go as far as hate. More like he simply annoyed the shit out of you. Thanos had been teasing and bickering with you ever since you were teenagers, and he seemed to enjoy it. It was always harmless, he never actually bullied you.

"Well, well, well – look who it is," Thanos said as he approached you and looked at your figure from head to toe before continuing. "I see you've dyed your hair."

Your hair was naturally dark brown, but you had dyed it pink a few months ago.

"Did you do it to match with me?" Thanos smiled. "Didn't know you were so obsessed with me."

"You wish," you denied, rolling your eyes. "I haven't had a single thought about you in several months."

"So, you admit you've sometimes thought about me," he pointed out and brought his hand to rest on his heart. "That's so touching, Cotton Candy."

"Don't be so full of yourself," you scoffed. "And cut the nickname, it's gross."

When the game started right after, Thanos leaned a little closer to you.

"Wanna race?" he asked.

"For what?" you asked, right brow lifted in curiosity.

"If i win, i'll get to keep the nickname for you," he suggested with a smirk.

"And when i win?" you asked. "Because there's no way i'm losing to you."

"I'll drop the nickname."

"Well, challenge accepted."

As you were running forward, trying to ignore Thanos near you, someone suddenly pushed you, making you fall on the ground. You laid there on your back, managing to stay still when the doll turned around to scan any possible movements in the area.

"As clumsy as always," Thanos mocked quietly above you, smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you mumbled in annoyance.

When it was time to move again, Thanos offered his hand to pull you up.

"I don't need your help," you muttered and started to get up.

"Stop being grumpy and take my hand," he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and let him pull you up. However, he pulled you with more force than you had expected, making you almost to trip forward again but he held you still. You were standing against him now, your heads facing each other to make you lock eyes. Right then the doll turned again, forcing you to stay still for a while.

"Did you always have freckles on your cheeks?" Thanos muttered quietly as he examined your face closer, just thinking outloud.

"Duh," you mumbled and got off his grip when you could move again, taking a quick sprint forward to get ahead of him.

In the end, you did win the game just couple of seconds before Thanos, he was running right beside you the entire way.

"Ha! I win," you mocked him. "Didn't know you let yourself go out of shape when you started focusing on rapping."

"You were just lucky this time," he huffed and rolled his eyes, not wanting to bruise his ego by admitting his defeat to you.

"This time? You want to do this again, huh?"

"Until i win."

☆☆☆

The second game arrived the next day and you were supposed to form groups of 5 with each other.

"Alright, Y/N, you're with my team," Thanos stated, as if he had done the decision by himself.

"Um, no thank you," you laughed.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Thanos narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to you.

"Now, what kind of competition would it be if we played in the same group?" you asked, crossing your arms on your chest. "The group that finishes earlier than the other wins."

"I see," Thanos hummed. "So what's the prize?"

"You'll see," you said and winked, leaving Thanos on his own without another word to search for your own team members.

Thanos wouldn't show it on the outside, but seeing you go and find a different group stinged his heart a little in a horrible way. Having you in the same group would have meant to either die together or live together. Being in different groups would mean the other could die while the other lived. But he couldn't force you to be in his team, no.

Your group played first and you did end up winning five seconds earlier than Thanos' group. It pissed him off so badly how you could win him twice and then rub it on his face afterwards.

"So, what do i owe you?"

"Besides all those pens you never returned to me in middle school?" you asked. "Hm. New shoes."

"Aw, is that a way to ask me to go shopping with you?" Thanos asked, having that same smile on his face which you hated. "I knew you liked my company."

You just punched his shoulder before leaving.

☆☆☆

The third game started, and along with his own team, you stood next to him as well.

"Now, you're not going to start wandering around this room on your own, got it?" Thanos said to you.

"What are you, my dad?" you scoffed, but having a playful smirk on your face. "You can't tell me what to do."

God, it started to annoy him how you took this as a joke. He wanted to keep you safe – no, he needed to keep you safe.

"You're not going to leave my side, are we clear?"

"That bossing me around is both annoying and kind of hot," you admitted, one of your eyebrows lifted.

"Are we clear?" Thanos asked firmly, voice getting louder.

"Yes, sir," you agreed, but Thanos could see that you didn't take him as seriously as he would have hoped.

As the rounds went by, you did stay with him and not go on your own ways. For that, Thanos was more than thankful. Since he had noticed that you kept following him, one round he didn't look so closely at your way anymore. He trusted that you were right behind him again, because the time was running out very, very quickly now and his team was struggling to find a free room. Thanos eventually did get into an empty room right at the last second.

Thanos turned around as the door had closed and locked itself, but when he saw a guy instead of you, his heart stopped. There were three players in the room with him, and none of them were you.

You had been right behind him, he had seen you. Barely two steps behind running and searching for a room with him. Thanos had been sure of it. But you weren't in the room now.

Thanos instantly ran to the gap of the door to peek out as the shootings started.

"Y/N!"

His heart was racing faster than ever before. Several people had been left outside, you included, and now their bodies were being carried into the black coffins tied with those fucking pink bows. It was too dark to recognise which body belonged to you.

Thanos leaned against the wall in disbelief. You couldn't be gone, that was impossible. You could survive anything. You had to.

He looked at his remaining team mates who were all staring at him. Nam-gyu, Se-mi and Gyeong-su, who looked at Thanos with the most terrified look out of all three.

Thanos stormed towards Gyeong-su and slammed him right against the wall, holding him captive by his shoulders.

"Where did you leave Y/N?!" Thanos shouted. "It was supposed to be Y/N!"

Nam-gyu had to pull Thanos away with a good amount of force so that he wouldn't start beating Gyeong-su up completely.

"Chill up, man," Nam-Gyu tried to calm Thanos down. "She probably found another room, don't get all heated up in the middle of the game."

Thanos took a deep breath and scrubbed his face with his hand in frustration. God he was angry - mostly at himself how he had let this happen just like that and not kept a closer eye on you. He should have held your hand to make sure you were there, but he knew you would have refused and only pulled your hand away.

For the next round, he didn't see you anywhere among the players. There were a lot left and he didn't go through the entire carousel because he had lost all hope. He was sure there was no way you could have survived finding a room in just a few seconds.

Thanos didn't say a word as he walked back with his team after the challenge was finished. Nam-gyu tried to talk to him but he didn't spare any attention on him at the moment.

Then, his heart stopped for a mere second when he saw you walking next to another player, having a conversation with her which Thanos couldn't hear. You laughed at something what player 120 said to you.

You were alive. He heard your laugh, which was always louder than many other people's laugh normally were. Thanos was frozen still for a few seconds, only looking towards you.

He was disappointed when he noticed that you kept your attention just on player 120 and didn't scan the room for Thanos as closely as Thanos did for you. But he didn't waste one moment longer until he stormed towards you with large and loud steps that made many other players around him to turn and look at him.

Thanos grabbed your hand without a warning and pulled you behind him towards the bathroom. You tried to yank your hand off but his grip was too tight.

"Su-bong," you said. "Su-bong, stop."

He didn't listen to you, only dragged you after him so fast you were about to trip soon.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Thanos shouted when the door had closed. He didn't know if anyone was in the stalls right now and he didn't care.

"What?" you asked with brows furrowed, confused what Thanos was on right now.

"Don't you 'what' at me," Thanos spat, then pointing his finger at you. "What the fuck was that in the game?"

"What was?"

Thanos took a deep, frustrated breath in not to explode in total pieces in front of you.

"You didn't come to the room with me," Thanos said with a chuckle, though he found absolutely no part of this conversation funny. "You weren't in our room, Y/N. Why the fuck weren't you there?"

"I tripped," you shrugged. "You were gone already so i found another room."

You looked so indifferent and how this wasn't a big deal. You looked like you didn't care and it made Thanos even more enraged, fire building inside him unbearably hot.

Thanos laughed. Actually laughed. He didn't know where it came from because none of this was funny, but his emotions unfolded in uncontrollable laughter for a moment.

"Okay Thanos, what's going on?" you asked and crossed your arms. "I tripped, found a room and i'm now here."

"Don't you understand, Y/N?" he said in desperation, putting his arms on both of your shoulders. He had stopped laughing, his face completely serious and turning into anger and annoyance again. "You could have died!"

"Yes, Thanos, i know," you took your turn in laughing. "That's the point, they kill who lose-"

"But you could have been one of them!" he yelled at you, his face now only a few inches away from you. As he looked into your eyes, his wide eyes softened and his face relaxed more, voice turning a lot more quiet as well. "I could have lost you, Y/N. I was meant to protect you."

His hands moved upwards to cup your cheeks in their gentle hold.

"I can't watch you die," he said by barely a whisper. You leaned your face into his touch, a smile spreading on your lips. It annoyed Thanos. "What's so funny?"

"You like me," you stated with a grin. "Admit it, you like me."

Thanos huffed and rolled his eyes, letting go off you. He turned around to leave without another word.

"Come on, just say it," you said playfully, starting to follow his back. He gave you only silence and tried to ignore your finger drawing zigzag patterns on his back. "Come onnnnn, Su-bong. You like me, you like me, you like-"

He turned around in a mere second, stopping on his tracks so aprubtly that you bumped on his chest.

"I love you, Y/N!" Thanos shouted. "Don't you get that?"

Your eyes widened and so did his. The words weren't supposed to leave his lips like that, but you managed to press his buttons in a way to squeeze them out of him. You looked at each other, him sparing a quick glance at your lips.

Before either of you knew it, both of you leaned in towards each other and crashed your lips into a hungry kiss.

His arms were roaming all around your body, pulling you tightly against his body by your lower back. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing through his purple hair. His tongue forced your mouth open wider and was able to dig itself deeper to explore new parts of you.

Then, the door of one of the stalls opened slowly a few metres behind you, startling both of you out of the trance of savoring each other.

Min-su looked at both of you awkwardly, hint of pink on his cheeks, then quickly going to wash his hands and avoiding any eye contact with you. Neither you or Thanos moved during this time, not an inch besides of your heads to follow his movements. Your left hand was resting on his shoulder, your right fingers against the back of his neck. Thanos had his hands on your lower back.

Min-su glanced at you, both of you staring at him and waiting for him to leave, and then hurried out of the bathroom without another look. You and Thanos both burst out laughing at the same time.

"Oh my god," you mumbled and wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye.

Thanos put his finger on your chin, a smirk playing on his face.

"So, want to continue this," he suggested, trailing his tattooed finger along your lip and jawline, "somewhere more private, hm?"

You pushed his hand off.

"As if."

You were about to walk past him, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you around back to face him.

"So you're just going to leave me hanging like that, Y/N?" Thanos asked, eyebrows raised close to his hairline.

"Thanos, i'm not going to go to the damn stall with you."

Thanos grabbed your face into his hands, making you look at him. You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he only looked deep into your eyes.

"Y/N, i meant it," he said seriously. "I love you."

Your brows furrowed.

"I love you and i can't handle the feeling inside me when i even think that something bad might have happened to you," he explained with such a vulnerability in his voice you had never experienced before.

You looked at him seriously for a while, until you started to giggle.

"You loveee me," you teased.

"Shut up," Thanos mumbled, rolling his eyes, and turned his back to you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and rested your chin on his left shoulder, gently caressing his chest with your palm in a soothing and calming way like you were trying to calm down a child after a breakdown. He stayed still under your touch.

"I think i like you too," you admitted.

"Just 'like'?" he asked. "Like, a friend or what?"

"Well, i wouldn't want to have you die either," you admitted. "It would make me sad."

"Would you cry over me?" Thanos asked.

"I might. A little bit."

Thanos knew you didn't show your true emotions easily to others and especially didn't admit them with words. He had always known that you showed your emotions through actions, not through speech. It would be useless to force you confess 'i love you' back even if you did love him.

"Would you be okay if... you saw me with another woman?" he asked slowly. "Someone else kissing me like we did, hm?"

You were quiet for a moment, still standing behind him on your tiptoes in the same position, but now grabbed his cheeks with your hand, turning his face towards yours. Your faces were so close your noses were only an inch apart from each other.

"You're mine, you hear me?" you stated seriously with a stern voice, fingers pressing hard on his cheeks. "No other woman is going to touch you as long as i live, got it?"

Grin spread on Thanos' face.

"You likeee me," he mocked you with a smile, imitating you.

"I'll hit you if i have to," you threatened but kept your hold on his shoulders as gentle and relaxed as before.

"I know you've fallen so madly in love with me," he insisted.

"And how are you so sure about that?"

Thanos turned around to make your bodies face each other.

"Because when i do this," Thanos said and simply put his hands on your cheek and lower back, pulling you closer, "you get all flustered and you scrunch your nose like this," he explained, slightly scrunching his own nose. "And you get jealous."

"I don't get flustered," you refused, narrowing your eyes, but you could feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"I'll get you to admit it some day."

"Get over yourself."

☆☆☆

When it was time to finally go to sleep, you had just laid yourself on your bunk, until felt another presence behind you. You didn't have to turn around to see who it was.

"If you think i'm going to have sex with you right now, you're very much mistaken," you stated and turned your back to him. "Go to sleep, Thanos."

Thanos scooped over to lay on the bed on his side behind you.

"Who talked about sex?" Thanos asked, like the entire thing was a foreign concept to him. "I'm tired after the game too, you know."

"What are you doing?" you asked as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, your back against his chest.

"Getting a comfortable position to sleep."

You stretched your neck to look at Thanos over your shoulder.

"You planned to sleep here?"

"Obviously, señorita."

"Why?"

"Because that's what men do when they love a woman – or so i've heard."

"We're not a married couple, Su-bong."

"Do i have to fall on my knees to propose to you right now to make you shut up and accept me as your sleeping buddy?" Thanos asked, looking a little too serious that he'd actually do it if you kept resisting.

You eyed him for a moment until turned your head away from him back to rest on the pillow.

"If your hand wanders anywhere else than my waist i'll kick you to the floor," you stated seriously as you closed your eyes.

"Fair." Thanos lifted his head to plant a soft kiss on your temple. "Goodnight, grumpy princess."

"Gross."

"I know you love it."

[luffington]

stupid cupid ♡

✧.* art credit!

➤ summary: Ace's Valentine's Day gift for you was definitely not what you were expecting. (18+)

➤ pairing: portgas d. ace x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.4k

➤ warnings: praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, established relationship, fluff, ace is a silly guy, fem reader

➤ notes: i'm finally back!!! let's pretend i posted this on valentine's day hehe

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

It was difficult to keep track of the date while out at sea and Ace never bothered to try. Timing easily escaped his one-track mind, especially when he had much more exciting things to focus on. He’d forgotten his own birthday a few weeks ago — he scratched his head in confusion when the Whitebeard Pirates threw him a party and swore it was still November.

You knew all of this, yet you couldn’t help feeling disappointed on February 14th.

No roses. No chocolates. Not even a love letter written with more heart than proper grammar. As the day went on, you grew increasingly sulky. A complete contrast to your boyfriend’s ever-cheerful exterior. Hearing his bubbly laughter across the Moby Dick’s main deck as he talked to your crew mates only worsened your mood.

When the sun had long dipped below the horizon, you officially lost hope. There was always next year, you supposed… assuming nothing happened to Ace or you before then. Terror and anxiety washed over you. Was this your only chance to celebrate Valentine’s Day with him?

Familiar muscular arms suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and a warm, bare chest pressed snugly against your back. Comforting heat melted through your increasingly dark thoughts.

“You’ve been so mopey today,” Ace whined with a cute pout. “C’mon, cheer up. It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Eyes widening, you whipped your head around as best you could in his tight embrace. “You remembered?!”

“‘Course I did! Didn’t even need Marco to remind me.” A giant grin showed how proud of himself he was.

Your brows furrowed as your mood soured instantly. Why the hell didn’t he say something earlier? He needed to wait until it was nearly midnight? However, the thing that upset you the most sounded childishly materialistic. “Why didn’t you get me a gift to celebrate?”

“What, besides true love?” Ace nuzzled into the crook of your neck, clearly joking about his sickeningly sweet words. But when your boyfriend realized he was only making the situation worse, he untangled himself from you. “I did get you something.” He sounded sincere, his gaze gentle. “I need to set it up. Meet me in our room in five – no, ten minutes!”

His boots thudded on the deck as he sprinted off to the lower levels, leaving you alone and perplexed. This couldn’t be good. 

Anticipation built inside you until you couldn’t sit still any longer, nervously making your way towards your shared cabin. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

Fragrant candles were strewn throughout the room, bathing everything in a warm yellow glow. Ace lounged seductively in the middle of the bed, dark hair slicked back and candlelight casting dramatic shadows across his godlike muscles. Tight white briefs left nothing to the imagination and his signature beaded necklace remained in place. 

But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his red heart antenna headband and feathery angel wings. 

Your boyfriend smirked seductively, shifting his position to emphasize his well-defined abs and tiny waist. A noticeable bulge was forming between his legs. “See, baby? I got you your very own Cupid.” He mimicked holding a bow-and-arrow, pulling the string taut and releasing it with a ‘whoosh’. “Perfect aim! Shot you right through the heart.” 

“Ace, you’re…” 

You were truly at a loss for words. Actually, no – there was no word to describe your reaction. Your heart beat out of your chest and heat shot straight to your pussy, yet you were moments away from laughing hysterically.

With a cocky grin, Ace snapped and formed a small heart-shaped flame on his pointer finger. “The hottest angel ever?”

“...An idiot.” You shook your head in amazement, but Ace didn’t seem bothered at all by that description. Slamming the door shut, you immediately straddled his thighs and grinded down into his lap, hissing at the friction on your clothed cunt. Not even the fuzzy hearts swaying above his head could turn you off. “You’re such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I still wanna have sex with you.”

“I knew you’d like it.” 

His plush lips met yours in a fierce and needy kiss. Throwing away the pretense of romance in favor of wet tongues lapping at each other messily. Unashamedly horny moans echoed throughout the small room, your previous frustration with him long gone. Fingers tangled in your hair as he shoved his tongue down your throat, drinking in as much of you as possible. You echoed his movement by tugging on his greasy locks, trying to stifle a laugh when the headband shifted as well. A thick string of spit connected your mouths when you finally pulled away.

“It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything,” Ace panted with a smile, hands traveling down your back to grip your ass appreciatively, the plush skin bulging around his fingers. “Fucking you is more than enough for me.”

You frowned at his assumption. “I hid a bag of candy for you under the bed.”

“Oh, sweet!” Childish joy overtook him in an instant. “Now I get two delicious presents.”

Ace easily flipped you onto your back and you sunk into the well-worn mattress underneath you. He pecked your lips quickly then got to work stripping you down. You regretted not wearing sexy lingerie to get into the Valentine’s Day spirit, but Ace didn’t even glance at your bra when he tore it off of you. With a deep moan, he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Sucking wetly while helping you slide off your undies. He showered your other breast in attention, making sure both nipples were soaked in spit and stiffly peaked. Your eyes fluttered shut in bliss, only to snap back open when one of his heart antenna bumped against your cheek. 

“Are you really keeping that costume on?” You giggled as he mouthed downwards along your chest.

“The god of love takes his uniform very seriously,” Ace faked being stern but was barely able to hide his amusement. His chin rested on your tummy, adorable freckled face grinning up at you. “You either fuck me in wings or not at all.”

“Fine, I’ll deal with the wings.” Motioning for him to come closer, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Whining when he called you his good girl. A hot, rough thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing the nub in circles then pinching it between two fingers. You bucked your hips against Ace’s hand, nerves set on fire as he expertly tugged and abused the sensitive bud. Your boyfriend pressed his nose against yours, eagerly watching your expression as you fell apart underneath him. 

Two fingers easily slid inside your cunt, which was already soaked with your arousal. Ace pumped them in and out slowly, taking his time to teasingly caress your dripping walls. Grinning when you involuntarily clenched around him. Without breaking eye contact, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and moaned lewdly.

“Fuck, princess, you always taste so good.” He slotted himself between your thighs and slid down your body, clearly on a mission to drink directly from the source. But his wings bumped against your thighs, causing both of you to giggle. Ace was still determined to make this work. “Just gotta spread ‘em a little wider, baby.”

Strong hands forced your legs uncomfortably far apart, but the aching stretch was forgotten as soon as his tongue ran up your folds. He ate you out like a starved man, burying his face in your cunt and messily mouthing at every part of you he could reach. 

“Holy shit, Ace, a-ahh…” Your boyfriend groaned enthusiastically at the praise, spurred on by the way his name sounded on your lips. Fingers rejoined his wet muscle deep inside your cunt. Ace pulled away for quick moments to murmur about how much he adored your pussy, the heart antenna bobbing along with his eager movements. 

Bucking your hips against his face uncontrollably, you came with a desperate cry of his name. Your heavenly orgasm washed away the dread that had filled you all day. Your boyfriend’s freckled face was soaked in your pussy juices and he eagerly licked his lips clean. 

Ace watched your heavy breaths begin to slow and pulled off his underwear. His lengthy cock stood hard and proud, precum already leaking from just some grinding and eating you out. You salivated, wanting to feel it deep down your throat as you gagged around it. Before you could ask, he was tapping the flushed head against your puffy clit. He ran it between your folds teasingly.

“So fucking wet,” he mused, voice deep and raspy. Admiring the way your needy hole pulsed around nothing. “Poor pussy needs me to fill her up, huh?”

You nodded dazedly, entranced by how his broad shoulders and wings were silhouetted in the flickering light. “Yes, fuck, Ace, need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl.” The fat tip of his cock wedged open your cunt and pushed inside. Both of you moaned when he bottomed out. “It’s like this cute cunt was made for me, always taking me so well.”

Your boyfriend set an unusually slow pace. Sensually rolling his hips back and forth, letting you feel every ridge and dip of his cock. Savoring how deliciously your wet walls clung to him. He hovered over you, too in love with your slutty expression to kiss you. 

You used his wings’ shoulder straps to pull him closer, giving him your best doe eyes. “Fuck me faster, please.”

Ace clicked his tongue, stilling his movements with his balls flush against your pussy. “Valentine’s Day is about romance, and slow is romantic. We’re not fucking, we’re making love.” A beat of silence passed, then he threw his head back laughing. “Who the hell am I kidding? I don’t care about shit like that. I sounded cool, though, right?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, suddenly pistoning his hips deep and hard. Ace was practically feral in bed, leaving you unable to do anything except take everything he had to give you with your fists clenched in the sheets. The lewd slapping of skin-on-skin filled the room and the bedframe started knocking against the wall. You moaned unashamedly every time he hit your g-spot straight on, not caring if the entire ship heard you. (Either way, they definitely knew what you were doing.)

Ace’s above-average body temperature flared even higher, dark strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. All familiar signs that he was close to cumming. Suddenly, he grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, forcing you into a mating press. Soft feathers tickled the back of your legs, his wings preventing you from digging your heels into the cross of his Whitebeard tattoo like usual. His dick reached impossibly deeper inside you and his thrusts became more focused, unwilling to let more than half of his cock leave your wet cunt. As if that wasn’t enough, Ace rubbed at your abused clit again, goading you on with pretty praises until you finally exploded around him. 

Thick ropes of cum flooded your insides seconds later as Ace’s head fell back with a beautiful groan. Your boyfriend kept you locked in place until you’d both come down from your highs and his warm spend had properly settled inside you. 

He grinned, kissed your forehead, then unceremoniously flipped you onto your stomach. Hoisting your hips in the air and pressing down on your back until you arched prettily. Sticky globs of cum dripped out of your cunt and down your thighs. Ace scooped everything up and pushed it back inside you. 

“Messy girl,” he chuckled, wriggling his finger around your pussy for good measure. You cried out in surprise, your cunt tightening around his digit. “Aww, is my poor baby too sensitive?”

You shook your head, willing your body to calm down. When you looked back at him, you realized his dick was already fully hard again. “No, I can take it.”

“Of course you can.” Ace tapped his heavy cock on top of your ass a few times – his obsession with it wasn’t a secret. Unable to resist giving it a playful spank afterwards. You muffled a moan into a pillow when your boyfriend slid his dick back inside you, the glide made even smoother by the filthy mix of your juices and his cum. 

Immediately resuming his rough pace, Ace gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. Heavy balls repeatedly smacking your clit, his tip nearly reaching your cervix. His thick cock stirred up his cum inside you and undoubtedly pushed it deep into your womb. Grabbing you by the roots of your hair, Ace pulled your head off of the bed and pressed his lips against yours in a wet, spit-filled kiss. Warm chest draping over your back, nipping at the crook of your neck as he rutted his hips like an animal. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum agai–“ Ace was cut off by his own moan, bucking his hips to ride out his orgasm. You were untouched yet overstimulated, and your own high followed soon after.

Your boyfriend pulled out and collapsed next to you on the bed, wincing exaggeratedly when the frame of his wings dug into his back. Ace cupped your cheek and kissed you slow and deep – the most honestly sensual he’d been all night.

“I’m sorry I was upset earlier,” you sighed, ashamed that you didn’t trust your own boyfriend. 

Ace chuckled loudly. “Nah, you were right! I would’ve definitely forgotten about this. I got lucky and saw these wings in a store window.” He hopped off the bed, excitedly digging under the bed for his promised bag of candy. His dark eyes lit up when he saw how much was inside.

“Thank you, baby.” He kissed the tip of your nose sweetly. “I love you so much.” Your eyes widened — it was rare for Ace to admit his feelings so openly. 

“I love you too,” you grinned sleepily. 

His freckled cheeks turned bright red, still shocked by someone saying that to him. He stifled his emotions by tearing open the bag and scooping a large handful of candy into his mouth.

“We should put out these candles before they become a fire hazard – no offense.” You stretched out your limbs, getting yourself comfortable for cuddles.

Ace shook his head stubbornly. His cheeks were puffed out like a hamster from being stuffed with chocolates and caramels. “Nuh-uh. You bought me all of this candy, so I need to return the favor. It’s only fair.”

Your eyes widened. “Y-you mean… you want another round?” His stamina was fucking insane, but your poor pussy couldn’t take much more.

A devilish grin spread across his face. “Oh, I’ll be wearing this costume all night, princess.”

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 26

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n my cat is very sick this weekend so leave some comments to distract me, thankyou. have a lovely weekend, cuddle your pets

previous | masterlist | next

---

Your phone drops from your hands onto the floor of the practice room, thunking softly against the hardwood. Your head follows, falling backwards in a controlled motion that ripples pain through the sore muscles of your abdomen, your legs, your back. The bright lights of the ceiling are little relief, even when you throw an arm over your tired eyes.

Your whole body aches, but that's nothing new. You've been at it for hours - and days, and months. You work hard and the crowd won't cheer, and you work harder and the company ask for more, and you put your every waking moment towards it and the fans don't see the difference, and the voices online are never happy, and the work just keeps coming, one performance after another, opportunity after opportunity to make a fool of yourself.

Your body hurts. It's inevitable. 

It's fine, even. It's been six years since you traded in youth for the promise of fame, after all; pain becomes a constant companion after a point, every dancer knows that. If your body doesn't hurt, then you're probably doing something wrong.

You have to get up. 

It's your own voice that gives the order, your mind that knows you have another performance to run through before you can be done, but your body doesn't move, the heat of it soaking into the lacquered floor. The will to dance has leeched out of your bones with it, and it feels guilty to admit that even to yourself, but there is nothing in you that wants to dance again. You kind of hate dancing right now - but this is your dream and there's one chance to get it right, and you cannot hate dance for even one moment.

You have to get up. You don't move.

The door opens, but you barely notice it, your breath settling and your eyes blocked from the light. You don't open them until the toe of a shoe nudges your side; then, you squint up at the blurry figure above you, waiting for your tired eyes to adjust again.

It's more the shape of his shoulders and the stout figure that give him away than the details of his face. "Binnie," you greet him with a sigh and rub at your face. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he answers. "Were you asleep?"

"No." You look up into his face again, but you're not sure he's convinced. "I'm just...resting."

A wry grin crosses his face, laughing out at you even as he offers you a hand up. "You looked more like you were dying," he tells you as he pulls you up into a sitting position.  "Or in a crisis."

"I am in a crisis," you quip. "I'm not very good at my job."

A finger flicks your forehead. You stare up at him accusingly, but he only shrugs. "People who say bad things about our noona get flicked," he informs you, and he doesn't sound the least bit remorseful. 

"You've got a lot of Stays to flick then," you grumble; and then add, "Slacker," to cover up the guilt that stabs at you so hard you nearly cringe at yourself. Ungrateful, he's going to say, or whiny. It's all you can think, so surely he would too. 

All he does is smile though. "After lunch," he promises. "Are you coming to eat with me?"

You stare at him, bemused. "I'm in the middle of dance practice."

Changbin frowns. "You said in the group chat that you were done."

"With that performance, yeah," you say, your hand drifting unconsciously towards your phone. "I still have the MAMA performance to try."

"It can wait until after lunch."

"Lunch can wait until after practice too."

"Not if it's that new place around the corner," he argues. "They close so early, this is my only chance."

You don't mean to, but you know your face tightens and your belly rumbles, suddenly aware of how hungry you are. "I have a diet, Changbin," you remind him gently. "There's at least four of the other kids at the company, they'll go with you."

"You've been suggested a diet," he amends without missing a beat. "Doesn't mean you have to do it."

"Do you come from another planet?" you scoff, squinting up at him. "Did we not sign the same contract?"

The smile he gives you is impish, spelling out trouble all over his face. "If you just ignore them long enough, they give up," he informs you proudly.

Your gaze runs over him again critically, tight shirt and loose pants cutting a figure you could never hope to mimic. "You're all muscle though," you point out, your finger jabbing accusingly in the direction of his chest, "even though you eat like a garbage can. Some of us are just fat."

"Garbage can?" he repeats incredulously, his voice rising with every syllable. He steps back, shaking his head, and you climb to your feet yourself, reaching back to fix your hair as you stand. "I eat like a normal person."

"Like three normal people, maybe."

"Come to lunch with me and I bet you'll eat more than me."

"You can come to lunch with me, in the cafeteria, sure."

He stares defiantly as he chooses his next words. You meet his gaze evenly. "I don't want to eat chicken and salad in the cafeteria," he whines after a moment. "Who even said that you were fat?"

"JYP himself," you deadpan, only cracking a smile at the anguished laugh that comes out of his mouth in response. "I don't know. A manager somewhere. Does it matter?"

You can see the teasing spirit drain from his face as his smile fades, his face turning to things that are softer, more serious. "As long as you know that you're pretty enough to make most of us look ugly, it doesn't matter."

You scoff again, your tongue tasting acerbic against the embarrassed red of your cheeks. "Pretty enough to be here," you reply. "Not the prettiest."

Changbin's arm is a heavy weight across your shoulders, squeezing you tightly as he all but drags you towards the door. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says; and somehow, it is so friendly a comment that it doesn't heat your face again, nor come off as awkward; but that is Changbin's effortless charm, his friendliness. His ability to listen without judging.

Anyway, your lips curve up into a smile, your elbow digging into his side just long enough to make him let go of you so that you can open the door. "It's all plastic, buddy," you quip as he steps through, and pull it closed behind you. "I'm a modern scientific miracle."

For several seconds, he just looks at you, unsure whether to laugh or not. "Have you done anything?" he asks, just to ask, ambling along casually beside you. "You have such a nice face shape."

You contemplate your answer before you give it, your mouth opening and then closing again. "Maybe a little here and there," you say and let a little grin slip onto your face. "Maybe not. You know I was dropped from Midnight for being 'the wrong look', right?"

"I didn't know that," he says, cutting a glance at you. You wonder if, under the genuine astonishment that plays out over his face, he can see the way that acknowledgement still guts you like a knife. You'd managed to say it out loud without cringing away from it, at least; maybe the hurt is starting to dull. Maybe one of these days you'll be able to look forward at what you've got without also looking back at what they'd taken away from you.

"Well don't go changing now," Changbin says, pushing straight past the whole dilemma. "They think you're the right look for us; don't ruin it."

"I only aspire to look like you, Changbin-ssi," you assure him. 

He laughs at you; actually, properly laughs, his voice echoing down the hallway. "You can start by actually going to the gym," he tells you. "And going to eat ramen at the new place down the street. You can't claim to be Changbin when you're so small."

"Bit rich, coming from the smallest person in the group," you mutter under your breath, and you can't help but snort a laugh at the affronted shout that sounds from beside you as he tows you towards the elevators.

---

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[cherryeclipses]

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 i love you, i'm sorry...pt two

dean winchester x reader

part 1 here

ex lovers to enemies (potentially back to lovers) angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, bestie!sam

definite timeline inconsistencies with the show oops

word count: 2.6k

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Dean let out a pained cry, his back slamming against the concrete wall, the demon he was attempting to fight had a knife pressed hard against his throat. Sam was down the other end of the room, slumped over in pain. This was it they both thought. Finally up against a demon strong enough, smart enough to beat the both of them.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out loud, before the demon fell backwards in pain before he was stabbed right through the heart, killing him instantly. Dean slid down the wall, trying to catch his breath. "Thanks." He wheezed. "You're welcome." An all too familiar voice replied. Dean's head snapped up to meet your gaze. "What the fuck?" He muttered, coming to his feet. You ignore him, walking over to Sam to check on him. He was alive but terribly injured, you help him up "what are you doing here?" Sam manages to ask. "Saving your idiotic asses obviously." You answer seriously. "Now stop asking so many questions and let's get you guys out of here and patched up before you bleed out." "Woah, woah. stop right there. We can handle ourselves, we're not going anywhere with you." Dean snarls, pulling his brother off of you. "Fine. Next time a demon nearly tanks the two of you, I won't try to help. Besides, you look like you're in great shape to stitch up your own wound." You say frustratedly pointing out the open wound on Dean's stomach, blood seeping through his shirt. Sam took Dean aside, gesturing for you to give them a minute alone. "C'mon man, she did just save our lives and you're bleeding out pretty bad." "No way. I'm not letting her touch me."

You were leaning up against the impala, kicking rocks from under your feet, wondering how long you should wait for them when they finally returned. "Follow us back to our motel and thank you again. I don't know what we would've done if you weren't there." Sam said sincerely. "Get off my baby, you'll put a dent in the door." Was all Dean had to say.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Once at the boy's motel room, Dean reluctantly laid on the bed as you began cleaning and stitching his wound. Sam retreated to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up and also to give the two of you some time alone. It had been almost 4 years since you last saw Dean. "Are you almost done?" Dean winced, taking another swig of his whiskey. "Do I look done?" You answered. "You're probably just taking longer so you can torture me." "Thanks for the idea." You said, tying off the end of his stitches. "There. You'll live." You stood up, snatching the bottle off Dean and taking a long sip before calling out to Sam "hey Sammy I'm heading out."

You had just made it to your car when you heard Sam calling out after you. "You're leaving already?" "I said I was coming to make sure you guys didn't bleed out, I did that, now I'm leaving." You shrug. "Please stay? I haven't seen you in so long and it'd be good for Dean too." He begged, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. You gave him a sad smile "I can't Sam, I'm sorry." "Okay fine but can we at least get a drink or something without Dean?" You thought about it for a minute, you really still loved Sam. He was your best friend and little brother. "Yeah okay, I'd like that." You admitted. "Great, um still got the same number?" He asked hopefully. You chuckled, "yeah I do, I'm staying in town for the week so just text me whenever, okay?" With that he hugged you goodbye and you drove back to your own hotel just 10 minutes down the road.

"What'd you say?" Dean asked Sam, finishing off the bottle of cheap whiskey. "Nothing, just wanted to say goodbye." "Why?" "She was my friend Dean, what happened between the two of you anyways? You never talk about her." Sam asked frustrated with his brother. Dean narrowed his eyes "nothing, like I told you we just didn't work out." The conversation trailed off with Dean announcing he needed sleep. Sam couldn't believe that your relationship ended amicably. Not with the way Dean was so quick to fire up at you and the hurt he could see in your eyes when he did.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

You entered the diner feeling nervous, you hadn't seen Sam since he went off to college; meeting up with him once or twice before your lives both got too busy. You had no idea what Dean had told him or what he thought of you. You spotted Sam in the corner booth, wiping your damp palms on your jeans you made your way over. "Hey, you actually made it!" The boy smiled, leaning down you hug you sweetly. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" You sat across from him, a steaming cup of coffee already waiting for you. "I don't know, maybe you hate me as much as you do Dean." He said with a laugh. "This is for me?" You asked bringing the coffee cup to your lips. "Yeah, black, no cream, no sugar, right?" "Yeah...you remembered." Sam Winchester truly had not changed, he was still thoughtful as ever. "Of course, it's not that difficult of an order." He joked, not mentioning it was the same way Dean liked his coffee.

"So how's Jessica? Did you ever ask her out?" You asked, hoping not to spend all afternoon talking about your relationship with his brother. Sam took a little while to answer. Shit. Had you said the wrong thing? "Um, I did. " He begins quietly. "She was killed, a few years back." Your jaw dropped. "Shit, Sam I am so sorry. I had no idea." "No it's alright, of course you didn't. Um things were good, we dated for awhile and I think she was the one but a demon got to her. Same one that got mum actually." Sam explained. "Fucking hell Sam. That's horrible. Honestly that is so shit. I 'm sorry... At least you got some time with her. Really, it's like whenever your life is going well, they can sense it and come to mess it all up." You vent, no one deserved that. Especially not Sam. "I know but it's okay. I've dealt with it." He said sincerely. You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Anyways how have you been?" Sam attempts to change the subject. "Alright, y'know the usual. Just picking up hunts here and there." Sam had a way of looking right into someone's soul, a look that would make anyone confess their sins. You could tell he was waiting for you to say more, but you don't. "Okay, can I just say it? What happened with you and Dean. The last time I saw you everything was going well and now Dean refuses to talk about you." You weren't surprised, honestly you were waiting for him to bring it up but you thought Dean would've spent the last few years bad-mouthing you considering the way you left. "He really didn't tell you?" You ask skeptically. Sam just shook his head. "Alright fine, only because I know how much you love gossip." You sighed, Sam laughed, allowing you to continue. "You're right, everything was going well. Really well, but I could tell John was getting fed up with me y'know. One day I heard the two of them arguing -" "About you?" Sam interrupts. You nod, "to cut a sad story short, Dean came out of that argument and broke up with me. No explanation, just said it was something he had to do." You finished, your chest feeling tight as you relived your worst memory. You had tried to act like that day didn't exist, never allowing yourself to remember it.

"What a dick." Sam exclaimed. "That's it? He didn't explain why?" "Nope. Nothing. Now you see why I didn't want to say. Your idiot brother broke my heart Sam." Sam reached out to cup your hands in his in comfort. "I'm so sorry. He always lets dad get into his head. He really did love you." Sam said. "You don't need to apologise, I'm just glad we can still be friends. I should call you more." You give your best friend a smile.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

"I promise to keep in touch." You say hugging Sam tightly. "Good, stay safe please." He asks before you're driving back down the highway.

A few weeks had passed since you last saw the Winchester brothers and the hole in your heart, you thought you had healed had reopened. It felt like Dean was breaking up with you all over again, memories of your romance keeping you up at night. There had been other men since Dean, sure, but no one felt the same. No guy understood you like he did, wanted you and loved you like he did. You couldn't find the motivation for another hunt at the moment, all you had the motivation for was wallowing in your own heartbreak.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

"There's no lore on this goddamn son of a bitch anywhere!" Dean exclaimed grumpily throwing another old book onto the floor. "Did Bobby call back yet?" He asked Sam. "Not yet..." Sam replied, getting up from his chair to get another beer. "What the hell are we going to do? We don't know what it is, where it came from or most importantly, how to kill it!" Dean said, slumping over in his chair. After a moment of uncomfortable silence Sam spoke up, "you know, there is someone who might know what we're dealing with." "Who?" Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, "someone who can read in 4 languages and has a near- perfect memory for all things deadly." "No way." Dean almost laughed as the relisation hit him. "We are not calling her, she already embarrassed us by saving our asses against that demon. We cannot go crawling back to her now." "Why would it be so bad? We need help, she's the only other person who might be able to." "Sam, I said no. I'm not working with her." Sam rolled his eyes and waited until Dean left the room before pulling out his phone and dialling your number.

"Hey Sam, miss me already?" You answer the phone in two rings. "Hey. Yeah something like that. Look we're working on a case, honestly we have no idea what we're up against, neither does Bobby. Do you think you could give us a hand with some research?" The line was silent for a few moments. "I don't know Sam..." "I get it, I mean you're only our last hope." He said, baiting you. "Does Dean know you called me?" It was Sam's turn to go quiet. "Fine, where are you boys?" "Mississippi, I'll text you the address." "I can be there in 3 hours, 4 tops." You answer, already packing up your bag. "You're the best. Thank you." "Only for my favourite Winchester." You chuckle, hanging up the call.

Within 20 minutes your bags are packed and you're on the road. Maybe this time will be different...who are you kidding, you and Dean are equally as stubborn. You think to yourself as you roll the windows down, letting the cool afternoon breeze flow through your hair.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

A soft knock at the door caught Dean's attention, narrowing his eyes over at Sam, one hand reaching for his gun. "Put it away." Was all Sam said as he opened the motel door. "Hey." You said quietly, embracing the younger Winchester in a hug. "Thanks for getting here so fast, we could really use your help." "No problem-" "You called her?" Dean asked gruffly. "Sure did. We need help Dean." Sam said standing his ground, as he took your bag from you. Ignoring Dean you walked over to the pile of newspaper articles and Sam's open laptop. "So what are we dealing with?" "We have no idea." Sam began, pulling up a chair and going over the recent cases with you.

"It's nearly midnight, I'm going to check you into a room. I'll be back in a minute, try not to shoot each other." Sam begged, leaving you and Dean alone. You looked up from the article you had been reading, Dean's brow was furrowed, concentrating on reading an ancient lore book, he looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes looked like they had been there for months but he still looked beautiful. It was unfair how stressed he could be but he still looked gorgeous. Lost in your daydream you didn't realise Dean had been talking to you. "-but you ever seen anything like this before?" He asked. "Uh, sorry I kinda zoned out. But this is nothing that I've dealt with, it feels so familiar though." Your cheeks flushed, you couldn't believe you got caught staring. "Well that's just great." He said, slamming the book closed. "Can we just stop. This is so childish, we can't even be in a room together without arguing. Just remember who broke up with who Dean." Your heart was beating in your ears but you had to address it. Dean leaned back in his seat, locking eyes with you. "I do remember. That's why I don't want you here." Your jaw dropped slightly, you'd never heard Dean be so cruel, you knew he was upset but you didn't realise he hated you so much. Just as you opened your mouth to respond Sam returned. "All booked in room 8 next door." He said. "Thanks Sam." You stood up grabbing your bag and slamming the door behind you."

That night you refused to allow yourself to cry, Dean was your high school boyfriend he shouldn't have this much hold on you. So you turned to alcohol, drinking a whole bottle and then some. You awoke groggily the next morning wearing the same outfit you had on the day before, your makeup imprinted on the pillow. You sat up quickly, much to your head and body's horror; suddenly having a realisation as to what the boys were up against.

Dean rolled over after an uncomfortable nights sleep, Sam humming to himself in the shower waking him. He had tossed and turned all night, thoughts of you keeping him up. You were always the one he let get away, no matter how many women he met, how many he slept with, he always ended up comparing them to you. Now you're back in his life and he couldn't handle the thought of losing you again, so he pushes. Pushing you away, so far that you might never come back and his heart can stay guarded.

He finally found the strength to get out of bed, yawning as he began looking around the room for where he threw his shirt last night, when the door flung open surprising him. "What the f-" "Leviathan." You say out of breath. "What are you talking about?" Dean asked, startled. "I know what those things are, Leviathan from purgatory." "You're a genius." Sam yelled from the bathroom. "Well now you've figured it out, can you give us some privacy. You can't just go barging into people's rooms like that." Dean said finally picking up his t shirt. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." You wink at him before closing the door.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

taglist: @s0urw00lf

inbox is open! currently writing part 3 (probably the final part)

[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Woo Jin (Bloodhounds) x Reader ...a kiss because time's running out

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss for Woo Jin because times running out

He could barely hear the clang of the bells outside over his ragged breathing. He knew he'd be called up soon, if he hadn't been already, that he'd have to face what was waiting for him out there. But his muscles felt tense with his terror as he tried to take a step towards the door, only to find himself retreating further into the winding corridor of lockers around him.

It was his first boxing match after everything that had happened. He felt silly. The stakes were so much lower than the life and death events he'd faced over the last few months. This shouldn't even be registering with his nerves. Instead he could feel with heart hammering in his chest, the rush of blood pounding in his head as he settled onto a bench and hugged his knees up towards his torso, hoping if he could shrink himself enough then anyone who came looking for him would walk right past him.

"Woo Jin?" He didn't hesitate to lift his head as you called quietly from the door, sticking your head inside the apparently deserted locker room and scanning for your missing boyfriend. "Are you okay?" Your worried question was enough to elicit a small croak from his throat, his usual ability to find the perfect words for any situation failing him, along with his steadfast courage.

You followed the noise to the back corner of the room, heart dropping as you found Woo Jin huddled in on himself and barely able to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide and full of terror as you crouched in front of him, bringing one palm to either side of his face and stroking soothing lines over his jaw with your thumbs.

"What's wrong, my love?" You cooed softly, not even his favourite pet name bringing a smile to his desperate expression. He seemed to struggle to get out the words, worried about letting you down, even after everything you'd been through together.

"I'm scared." He finally admitted, his voice cracking as he spoke, and threatening to give way to tears if he elaborated any further.

"Oh Woo Jin." You encircled him in your arms the best you could, pulling him as tight to your chest as was manageable and tracing shapes across his back. "Of course you're scared, that makes perfect sense." Withdrawing ever so slightly from your grasp he searched your face for meaning, never ceasing to be amazed at how you seemed to know him better than he had ever known himself.

"It does?"

"It does. You've been through so much, and got so badly hurt last year. Boxing's not just a sport to you any more, it's something so much more serious. So now you're worried about how you might get hurt in this fight, or if you lose, is there something serious at stake? Your brain's just trying to keep you safe after spending so much time in danger." You clasped his bandaged hands together in yours, squeezing tightly. "But this is the safest fight you could do. There's nothing at stake, and there's padding and a referee and I'll be watching closely in case you need me." That did finally draw a smile from him as he seemed to melt into your touch, muscles becoming less tense with every word you spoke. "But if you still don't feel up to it, you don't have to do this. We can run out of the backdoor and you wouldn't even need to tell anyone." He laughed at the offer and shook his head, grateful to have you in his corner in every dangerous moment, and every mundane one too.

"I want to fight." He said resolutely, voice feeling a bit steadier as he clung to you. He knew he needed to get out there soon, but leaving your arms always felt like stepping out of the warmest bed on the coldest of mornings.

"I'm so proud of yo-" Your lips were interrupted by his, desperate and searching and trying to drink in every ounce of strength he got from being this close to you. Your faith in him was unwavering, even when he doubted himself. Your devotion so clear, even if Woo Jin found himself feeling somewhat undeserving half the time. But your relentless reassurance brought him back and helped him to see that he was exactly where he needed to be when he was with you. How he was the best version of himself when he had you in his corner, and how he could do anything if he knew it was you he was fighting for.

He tried to say this all with his kiss, time running out for him to confess all this to you with his preferred rambling sentiments. His hands clung to the fabric of your shirt as he pulled you in closer, capturing your lips again and again as his nose skimmed over yours, nuzzling affectionately until finally a wide, beaming smile returned to his face.

"After I win, I'm going to take you for a fancy dinner, like you deserve." His intense gaze was full of admiration and love as he took your hand and rose to his feet, ready to face anything as long as he could hold on to you.

**

If you enjoyed this, check out my Bloodhounds master list for more Woo Jin!

[kittehbiscuits]

Bettle juice...

[sysig]

Yeah of course I’m still thinking about plushies, what else (Patreon)

Most specifically thinking about magnets again - there’s the obvious of putting it in their hands so they can hold hands!

Of course if they’re on the same side i.e. right hand gets south polarity, left gets north, they’d only be able to hold opposite hands, so no handshakes (but I think that’s fine personally haha)

But on top of hands they could also have magnets behind their mouth! Kiss-magnets! My only real concern is the fabric pulling and developing kiss-wrinkles from being pressed against each other haha

They’d also be able to giggle with their palms to their mouths hehe, how cute! It’d depend on their kiss polarity

Which would of course depend on ship compatibility! Max has to be able to kiss Dex and Caleb, so if that makes it that Caleb and Dex can’t kiss, I mean that’s just an unfortunate side effect haha

[here-there-were-dragons]

and god help you if you're not binary trans and then god DOUBLE help you if you're not nb "the right way" aka "so basically i'm a third binary gender that looks exactly half way between girl and boy also i'm completely 100% human and 100% desire to be human and only human and just as invested in picking Gender Team to be on as everyone else because we all know the only thing that exists or matters in the universe is baseball and exactly what baseball team role you define your existence by permanently without ever even considering anything else right?"

the Trans Experience in our society is being treated like schrodinger's gender. you're a woman when they wanna deny you agency and a man when they wanna deny you support. this is an experience that unites nearly all of us, whether transmasc, transfem, or something else.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[salemrph]

Sleepy morning with Sylus

A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min

Background music

Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.

You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.

Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.

He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.

"Sylus—"  you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.

"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"

He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.

"Then pee..."  he teases. 

"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.

"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.

"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.

"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back". 

You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.

"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.

"I like how it wiggles"

You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah… he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.

"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"

"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.

"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.

With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.

You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.

His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.

When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.

One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.

Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.

That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.

[cherrygirlfriend]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ the cons of long nails

pairing: reader x stepbro!rafe synopsis: rafe's stepsister has acrylics on and can't touch herself so he helps out. warnings: smut, STEPCEST, oral (fem receiving), MDNI! wc: 700 a/n; was this inspired by me doing my own nails and being unable to do anything with them? mayhaps. real ones know the struggle. originally posted 11/12/2024

rafe masterlist ♡

your freshly manicured nails were digging into the skin of his shoulders; loud whines escaping your lips as rafe's were slowly making their way down your body; leaving a trail of warmth every time his lips made contact with your bare skin, small gasps escaping you whenever he nipped at your skin.

"quit whining..." rafe groaned into the skin of your abdomen, before he lifted his head slightly, the blonde's half-lidded eyes looked up at you, his pupils blown out, a small grin creeping up his lips, "or i'm gonna stop right now."

"you won't." you said with pursed lips, no confidence in your voice, causing him to grip your thighs tightly, his eyes narrowing as a wicked grin overtook his lips.

"are you sure you wanna test that?" your stepbrother grabbed one of your wrists, looking at your nails, "just had to get your nails done so now you can't even please yourself, hm? had to come to beg your stepbrother to help you."

"i didn't beg..." you mumbled, your face feeling hot with embarrassment.

"oh, really?" rafe snorted, "rafeyy, please, i got my nails done but 'm really horny, can you help me?" he spoke, mocking your tone and the earlier words you used on him, causing you to try and turn your head to hide your face, only for him to roughly grab you by your chin, making you look at him. "don't turn away from me. you're gonna stop whining, aren't you?"

his tone left no room for argument, so you simply nodded, letting out a timid, breathy, "yes." as you leaned back on the bed, rafe letting go of your wrist, his lips continuing their descent to your aching pussy, the blonde's long fingers slipping under the waistband of your soaked panties.

the time it took him to slide your panties down your legs was almost tortuous, rafe no doubt making sure to go as slow as possible, wanting every part of you craving and aching for him.

he pushed apart your legs, a trail of wet kisses pressed on your inner thigh while you held your breath in anticipation for when you'd finally feel him where you needed to; your head starting to feel dizzier the longer he took.

but when his tongue flicked at your puffy clit, your breath escaped your throat, mixing in with a moan you'd been holding back. rafe chuckled, the sound causing vibrations to run through your body, shivers climbing down your spine.

without even giving you a moment of respite, his tongue gathered up some of the wetness from your entrance, bringing it to your clit as his lips attached themselves to the swollen bud.

you arched into his touch, gripping his hair as moans and whimpers left your lips, each flick of his tongue on your clit causing another flash of electricity to crawl up your spine as he sucked on it, drawing out sensations you hadn't experienced before that moment.

rafe was gripping your thighs so roughly you were sure it'd leave bruises in the shape of his hands. still, you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when your eyesight was blurry just from having his lips around your clit, not when the burning feeling in your abdomen was so strong even though he'd only been attacking your clit for minutes; not when you didn't even have any concept of time thanks to him.

you were trying to moan his name, but your brain was so muddled by the things he was making you feel, you weren't quite sure what you let out of your mouth, but rafe still knew the moment you came by the loud whine and the tightened grip on his shoulders, all the while you were clenching around nothing.

when your panting had turned into only slightly quickened breathing, rafe pulled back, straightening his body as his body covered your own, a self-satisfied smirk on his face at the blissed-out expression you were sporting; and before you could say anything, he brought his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself.

[bunnyhugs77]

High Demand

ꕤ- Pairing: Dealer! Jungkook x Reader

ꕤ- WC: 2.6k

ꕤ- A modern day Romeo and Juliet

Content: college student! reader, grumpy jk, brief texting! au, jk is lowkey whipped, drug use (marijuana), reader is his special customer, vaping, opposites attract, suggestive themes, minor jealousy, idiots in love (but they won't admit it), shot gunning, grinding, fwb?

Other Content: thigh riding, high sex, jk titty appreciation, unprotected sex (no.), hand job, soft dom kook, reader is a little needy, brief switch! koo, hickeys, pet names, spit, biting.

Shaking your head with a small giggle as you looked at your phone before tossing it aside. You're totally his favourite. You know he's stubborn and he would never admit it but deep down he loves delivering to you the most.

Looking around your sad and dimly lit dorm, all the lights were off and your roommate was gone for the weekend doing god knows what with her weird ass biology major boyfriend who would collect rabbit tails in jars for 'science'.

You were looking at one right now actually, it seems they left one behind, on the coffee table. It was just fermenting in... you actually weren't sure and didn't want to know.

Your eyes felt like they were on fire the longer you looked at the stupid philosophy paper you were writing. The bright light from your laptop was beginning to drill into your head. Your head lolled to the side glancing at the time on your phone.

It was almost 11:30, and time for a break. Abandoning the device on the couch for a quick wake-up shower; by the time you'd gotten changed and returned to the living room, you could expect Jungkook any minute now.

Except, this is Jungkook we're talking about. He's always late.

That's why when you heard the familiar rattling of the rusty fire escape you were startled. It was a little past midnight. Climbing through the window in nothing but your basketball shorts and a white tee.

Pleasantly surprised to see Jungkook scaling the platform with a bag of takeout pinned in between his teeth. The sight of you looking down at him from where he climbed made his eyebrows raise but of course he couldn't say anything.

Not until he was finally close enough for you to grab the bag from his mouth and he stands up. You climb back inside first with him following behind with a pained sigh. "I'm so sick of coming here. Got me climbing walls like its fucking subway surfers." He curses while you place the food down on the table.

Completely ignoring him, practically drooling as you slowly peeled open the bag. "And I thought you said you weren't gonna bring me anything." He snatches the bag.

"I didn't."

You let yourself fall onto the couch, arms crossed and unbelieving. "Oh yeah? So you just coincidentally craved Wendy's and decided to haul it up three flights up a ladder from your mouth when you could've just eaten it in the car?"

"Yeah exactly." He shrugs, obviously lying.

"Give me the bag, Jungkook."

"Fine. But I'm charging you extra for the delivery and the labour of bringing it up here." He hands it to you and you roll your eyes knowing it was nothing more than a bluff.

"It's not my fault you're out of shape," you mumble unwrapping the burger. "Oh yeah? Is this what out of shape looks like to you?" He says it almost offended but challenged.

Choking briefly on your food as he lifts up his shirt, revealing the defined abs that you have such lewd memories of. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You try climbing 3 flights up a ladder and tell me it's easy." You shrug,

"Not my fault you're banned from the campus." He drops himself down beside you, reaching for the bag of fries and taking some for himself. "But it is, if you hadn't called me to drop off a stash for Angelica's dorm party maybe I could still take the stairs."

You drop your half-eaten burger with apologetic eyes, "How was I supposed to know they were doing random security checks in the lobby? At least you didn't get arrested." You pout and he scoffs.

"Bare minimum." He says via grumpy mutter under his breath so you offered up the rest of your food to him as a peace offering. A little sad that he actually took it but you were getting full anyway.

As he finished up the rest of your food you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "So do you still do drops with Angelica?" He nods with his mouth full of the last bite, stuffing the wrappers back in the bag.

"How often does she call you?-- for deliveries I mean." He chuckles, licking his lips, "Jealous?" You take the trash off the coffee table and bring it to the kitchen to toss it in the garbage. "You're delusional."

"I can't help it if I'm in high demand." He manspreads, his arms stretched over the back of the couch. "Just shut up. Do you have my pen?" He reaches for the pocket inside his leather jacket, pulling out the slim box.

Already knowing that you were going to use it now, he began to unbox it while you collected the cash you needed. "40 right?" You say handing him the small spread of bills, "Yeah, but for you, I guess I could make it 30." He shrugs conceitedly.

"Because I'm your favourite." You say and he shakes his head, "No. Because I ate your food." Which he paid for but you didn't dare to say that out loud, you were getting cheap weed.

"So who's your favourite then Jungkook?" He hands you the pen, "Listen. I don't climb up the fire escape when I do deliveries for Angelica, I make her come to me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Trying to tug the pen out of his grasp but he holds it firm until you respond, "I guess I can work with that." He smiles softly, letting you take the first hit as his arm wraps around your shoulder.

The two of you passed the pen back and forth, with little giggles here and there and wide eyes on the episode of SpongeBob that was playing.

By now the dark living room is illuminated by nothing more than your roommate's lava lamp and a strip of purple LEDs' taped behind the TV. You could see the smoke as it floated past the few sources of light.

"Open." He directs, taking a particularly long hit, leaning into you and blowing the pungent smoke into your mouth, sucking it in from his lips.

The pen is now forgotten as it rolls between the cracks of the couch. Straddling Jungkook's muscular thigh as he flexed it every now and then, taking hits from his blueberry Ice vape and blowing it to the ceiling, giving you a prime view of his sharp jaw under the soft purple lighting.

The sight made you shake, gyrating your hips almost desperately as you chased the feeling of friction on his denim-clad thigh. "You like that? You feel good fucking yourself on my thigh?" The question was rhetorical, you were too dazed to answer him anyway.

Your heavy-lidded gaze slowly rolls up to his pretty face once you feel his hand move from your hips to gently wrap around your neck, not applying any pressure, just there to let you feel the weight of his hand. "Answer me," He says, and you fall forward "Yess, feels so good." You moan, and Jungkook has danced this dance with you enough to see you were close.

But of course, he couldn't let you cum so soon, not yet. His hands flew to your hips and pinned you down on his thigh, restricting your range of motion. "Please," You beg and he wishes he had a little more willpower but he couldn't say no to you, not when you looked so fucked out when he's barely touched you.

"Fuck. Take your shirt off." Leaning back and crossing your arms over the base of the shirt, you pried it off your body desperately. Leaving you in your black lacy bra and it pulled out a guttural groan from Jungkook's chest.

"You little whore." he grits through his clenched teeth, grip tightening on the arm of the couch nearly ripping the fabric.

This position was no longer giving him what he so desperately craved. Shrugging the jacket from off his shoulders and taking off the tank top underneath letting your eyes roam over his built upper body, oh how you wanted to just...

Without thinking your tongue striped up the expanse of his bulky pecs. This was new, but Jungkook was so high out of his mind anything and everything you did felt like he was on cloud 9.

Your mouth dropped down to wrap around his rosy nipples and you could've never anticipated the worked-up reaction you got from him. "Oh shit, shit shit." He gasps, hands gripping your waist tight enough that you're sure there will be bruises by the morning.

Letting your tongue lap around his nipples with pure hunger, an inexplicable flame burning in your core as you were finally the one who got to watch the other be reduced to a moaning mess.

His once soft moans turned a little breathy and high-pitched, His hips bucked causing you to jolt in his lap, he was getting close.

"Didn't think you'd like having your tits played with so much?" You tease him but he didn't find the humour in it. He holds you by the throat once more, this time applying a generous amount of pressure, pushing you off him.

Unbuckling his belt and you knew what that meant. He slides out of his pants, followed by the boxers that were the last barrier between your moistened lips and his throbbing cock. "Let's put that smart mouth of yours to good use, yeah?" He hums, watching as you sink to your knees, hand carefully wrapped around his base, starting with slow pumps.

"Spit on it." Doing as told, you let a wad of spit fall from your pretty, plush lips and coat the shaft of his dick, you worked your palm up his length. Already satisfied with the way his head was thrown back.

"Just like that," Reaching for the vape, he takes a few good hits, the head rush mixed with the pleasure had him seeing stars-- the object falling from his hands immediately the moment he felt the warm heat of your mouth wrap around his sensitive tip.

"Y/n-" He breathes out, almost scared, he was so close, too soon. He's never struggled to hold himself back this badly before. What were you doing to him?

The obscene sounds of you choking as you struggled to take all of him in your mouth, letting your nose touch the soft, trimmed hairs near his base. Focusing on breathing through your nose before you felt a heavy hand on the back of your head, pushing you lower.

You were quite literally slobbering on his dick, gagging with every buck of his hips. "That's it, princess. You're doing so well--Shit. Mouth feels like fucking heaven." His praise rushes to your core and has your left hand trailing down to rub yourself through your lace underwear.

The rough friction being more than enough to get you there, "I'm gonna cum, baby. Where-- Shit!-- Where do you want it?" He gasps, his hips snapping, pushing his length down your throat almost erratically. You don't answer, only hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, making your desires clear.

Your own fingers quickening their pace, your own sounds travelling through his dick in vibrations and pushing him right over the edge with you, filling your mouth with his warm cum.

Swallowing as if it were second nature. "Stick out your tongue," He says softly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to regain his composure from his overwhelming climax. Your tongue was out and cleared of any of his cum and it made him crazy.

He remembers the first time he'd brought an order to you over 6 months ago. He thought you were nothing more than a cute little philosophy major, never did he think he'd have you beneath him like he does right now.

Looking up at him, daring to give you an almost angelic gaze while the two of you ruined each other. Tainting each other with your own touches. "Kiss me?" You ask it so cutely, tempting him with the pout on your lips. You weren't being fair.

His body didn't give him a choice before his lips were on yours, his hips grinding into yours. The feeling of his solid dick rolling against your skin making the butterflies go ramped in your stomach.

The way you licked over his bottom lip with your own made Jungkook weak, stumbling on his elbows as he held himself up over you. Soft groans could be heard the deeper the kiss became.

Messy and intimate. Your hand crept up the back of his neck to tug at the dark locks of hair on his head. There was a loud pop and the two of you paused.

With Jungkook between your legs and with you under him, your heads turned slowly towards the coffee table where the jar was, dedicated to the fermenting rabbit tail. "What the fuck is that?" Jungkook slowly sits up, "My roommate's boyfriend's weird biology shit. I dunno, it freaks me out too." You sit up, now remembering what the two of you were in the middle of doing.

"That shit's not gonna blow up or anything right." You gently peck him on the lips but his brain seems preoccupied by the jar, "who knows," you say, kissing right under his ear and that seemed to get him to zone in on you.

Catching his bottom lip under his teeth as your kisses became more eager, suckling on a certain spot on his neck, his head falling back against his will. "Fuck, Y/n-- Don't you dare." You pull off his soft skin with a soft pop, admiring the burgundy bruise left behind.

"Oops." Your apology was ingenuine and bratty, and Jungkook hated brats.

Tearing you out of your final pieces of clothing before manhandling you into his lap. "Sit on it." He demands and you follow without question. Moaning out loud as his dick spread your lips apart like butter.

Sliding down with ease and a stretch of your velvety walls that were currently squeezing Jungkook for everything he's got and he's got nothing left, everything was yours.

"I-Shit! You feel so good, Kook!" He couldn't bother to correct you on the annoying nickname you were incessant on using. "Yeah? You like that- fuck, you feel so good." He curses, bucking his hips up into you as you raise your hips trying to match his thrusts.

He was fucking you so good, so ruthlessly, your head falls onto his shoulder and you needed more than just the couch to hold on to, your teeth sank into the muscular meat of his shoulder and his pace faltered.

"Shit shit shit! Do that again." He groans, picking up an inhumane pace that had you bouncing all over the place until he stilled you in his arms. His grunts and breathy moans came out right beside your ear only pushing you to your orgasm faster.

"J-jungkook-!" You pant, unable to speak, feeling like your insides are being rearranged, "Me too, baby. Cum with me." You finish first, and with a few more unsynchronized snaps of his hips, you were being filled to the brim with his cum.

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of muffled music playing from your neighbour's next door and laboured breaths. Jungkook gently lays you down on the couch beside him, staring into your eyes.

This felt so intimate. You felt his gaze deeper than just behind your eyes, it was as if he was looking into your soul. His eyes were tinted red as he looked at you with an adoring gaze. "You're cute." He says it casually as though he hadn't just fucked you.

Your eyes roll before they close, feeling the sleepiness begin to kick in. "Bet you say that to all your customers." Mumbling the words into his chest while he began to grin a little.

"Nope. Only to my favourite." Your eyes shoot open.

"I knew it."

[artdcnaldson]

you can probably tell all this shit is from me but i'm on something tonight and i'm too pussy to sign off with an emoji. anyway, thinking about bsf!artrick arguing over who fucks better and they look at you and who are you to say no to a purely Scientific Experiment. it's for the greater good! i need them to run a train on me. holy shit. them blindfolding you and making you guess who's fucking you and who's eating you out etc.

You’re so iconic I need you to know I worked on this to make it perfect for you and I hope you enjoy!!

But SIGHHHH Getting tied down to the headboard so you can’t cheat and feel for clues! So you’re blindfolded, tied, and completely susceptible to their whims. They’re trying to ignore how pretty you look, because this is simply to settle a disagreement, okay! This has nothing to do with how bad they’ve both fantasized about fucking you since they’ve known you!

It starts with their hands. You’ve never paid much attention to them before (you’re lying), but you swear you can feel the difference between them just by the touch. Patrick touches like he’s trying to stake a claim on your skin. His hands are rough from use— you can feel the rough scrape of callouses against tender skin as he gropes at your tits. Art’s touch is tender and intentional. A little softer (you know he keeps hand cream in his gym bag so his hands don’t crack and split like Patrick’s)— his hands trace along your body delicately, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

That’s easy, but it’s harder to think when it’s their mouths on your pussy, licking and teasing and fucking devouring. You squirm against the restraints, but firm hands hold you down in one spot. Art’s hands on your hips, Patrick’s fingers teasing at your entrance. Patrick’s mouth— fuck.

Patrick eats you out like he wants to ruin you for anyone else, and he very well could. It’s wet and messy and so, so desperate, like he’s got something to prove. He pulls back and spits your arousal back onto your cunt, and you’re sure there’s a puddle beneath you that’s a mix of spit and your juices. Your back arches off the bed as he hikes one of your thighs over his shoulder, bringing you impossibly closer. The sound of his fingers thrusting into your sopping pussy are so obscene that your cheeks burn— you’ve never been treated like this by anyone else before, but you like it. You like how hot and desirable he makes you feel. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks with just the right amount of pressure, and your thighs shake from the intensity of it all. You couldn’t have tried to hold off your orgasm if you wanted to— Patrick wanted you to cum, so he made you cum, with all the expertise of someone who’s eaten pussy countless times before.

Your cunt is still twitching with aftershocks when Art moves between your thighs and licks up all of the slick spit and cum from Patrick’s endeavors. It’s almost soothing, how his tongue traces the shape of you, like he’s committing the contours of your body to memory. He rubs at your thigh with his free hand, and uses his other hand to ease two fingers into your cunt. He doesn’t fuck you with his fingers the way patrick did, he lets your walls flutter around them, squeeze him tight. He moans at the feeling, at your taste. There’s something about the way that Art nuzzles against your pussy, his nose rubbing at your clit as he tastes you, that tells you he fucking loves it. Patrick is good at eating girls out, but Art lives for it. Your hips cant against his mouth, and Patrick makes no move to hold you down, Art wouldn’t have wanted him to. Art lets you buck against his tongue, his nose, cover his face in your juices. The noises he makes are so pornographic you’d think he was the one getting head. You’re so oversensitive that Art makes you cum like it’s no work at all, with teasing licks against your clit and pressure against your g-spot. He’s practically making out with your pussy as you come down, and finally relents with one final kiss to your twitching clit.

“I can’t—“ you gasp, chest heaving after having two orgasms in such a quick succession. “I just need a break, I need… fuck, like a minute to catch my breath.”

“Yeah?” That’s Patrick’s voice, beside you. When he rubs a hand over your thigh you inhale a shaky breath. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

Then there’s Art’s hand, rubbing along your bicep and brushing hair from your face. “We can stop.”

You should feel exposed and vulnerable— tied up to your headboard with a silk scarf from your dresser, your entire body on display for your two best friends. Your entire body burns with need and desperation. You’ve wanted it for so long, and now that you’ve had it, how can you go back to the way things were before? How can you look at Patrick and Art when you know how their mouths and hands feel against your body? You can’t stop there— you can’t give up because what if they’re hit with clarity immediately after? What if you never get a chance again?

“Don’t wanna,” you say quickly. “Please don’t stop.”

If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be able to see the pleased grins on their faces. They’ve wanted you like this for fucking months, and now there you are, all tied up, pretty, and dripping for them. Fuck tennis, this is one competition neither of them is willing to lose.

You feel them coax your thighs further apart, opening you up to them completely. You don’t have time to feel shy about how exposed you are, because one of them positions himself between your thighs, notching at your entrance.

In your attempts to identify which one it is, you rely on the few senses you can access. His breath hitches the second the head of his cock breaches your entrance, slipping into your wet warmth. A strangled gasp that you hear him struggle to silence. He’s positioned over you— you can smell sweet cologne and shampoo as he holds his body up and drives into your cunt. The brush of coarse hair against your clit, the feel of hairy thighs sandwiched between yours as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Patrick,” You pant out as soon as he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Of course it’s Patrick, staking his claim on your body first.

“Mhmm,” His breath is hot against your ear. “You’re so smart.” The condescending tone of his voice makes your stomach do a fucking somersault. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight. Pussy’s trying to suck me in, isn’t she? Feels that good, huh?”

Now you understand the revolving door of Patrick’s hookups, why girls put themselves through the Sisyphean cycle of pleasure and heartbreak over and over again for him. Just his words are enough to set your body on fire. All you manage in response is a pathetic nod, an involuntary arch of your back as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, then drives back in hard. The moan that spills from your lips is unlike any sound you’ve ever heard yourself make before.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Just take it, baby. You're fuckin' made for it.” And you are— at least, it really feels like it. You feel him reposition— sit back on his knees, grab you by your hips, and fuck into your cunt nice and deep. He fucks like he doesn’t care if you’re going to cum, which is clearly untrue, given how close you are already.

When your climax hits you, it’s like it’s being pulled from some hidden depth in you— ripped from the very core of your being. Your toes curl, your cunt grips him like a vise, so tight his rhythm falters. It’s dizzying, all consuming. Intense and short-lived, like most of his relationships. Still, he fucks you through overstimulation until he pulls out and cums onto your tummy.

“Go ahead, I broke her in for you.” Patrick sounds smug, and you hear the clap of skin on skin as he slaps a hand on Art’s shoulder.

It doesn’t feel much like an experiment anymore. Not when you know when Art climbs on top of you, when you feel soft kisses peppered along your jaw. That goddamn oral fixation.

He eases your thighs apart, spreads you out for him. Art’s thighs are smooth against yours. From a distance, he looks hairless, but you can feel the soft brush of fine hair again your own thighs.

A shaky gasp escapes you as his cock glides against your cunt. Slow ruts of his hips that coat his length in your arousal and judge his tip against your clit. You can feel your pussy dripping for him, that little tease of friction and pleasure.

Art’s loud. You can hear his soft little pants and moans as he humps against your cunt, until he can’t take it anymore. “‘M gonna put it in, okay?”

You nod and let him push in nice and slow. He groans and buries his head against your neck, and you’re conscious of the brush of soft curls against your skin, of his hot breath panting against you. “You feel so good, Jesus, fuck—“

He grinds his hips into you— nice and slow, so each movement sends pleasure sparking up your nerves. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging in to tug him closer, deeper.

You've kissed Art before— at parties during stupid games meant to play on raging hormones and pent up sexual desire. Bottles spun that land on him, smoke shotgunned into your mouth when you're both a little crossed and can't help yourselves. But it's different then, when he smashes his lips to yours, licking hungrily into your mouth. Better when he's fucking you nice and deep, his body pressed against yours.

Art Donaldson, ever the sweetheart, the gentleman that Patrick is not. His hand moves between your thighs to toy with your oversensitive clit until you mewl. If the blindfold was off, you'd be able to see the pleased smile he wore when you cried out for him.

"I've got you," he mumbles against your mouth. His forehead presses against yours, his nose nudging softly as he moves between soft kisses and open mouthed gasps of pleasure. He swallows up every sweet noise you give him, squeezes the plush of your thigh in the hand that isn’t rubbing over your clit. Your body tenses with pleasure, arching into him and he moans as you clench around him. “Fuck—“

You want the blindfold off. You want to see Art come apart, you want to know what Patrick’s doing while he watches. You want so much more than you have in that moment. And still, Art brings you to your finish like it’s easy, like every other guy hasn’t struggled to do it before him (well, besides Patrick). You’re spent, panting, oversensitive and yet you still feel a throb of need as Art jerks himself off over you.

With the blindfold on, all you can hear is the slick sounds of his hand pumping over his cock, his whiny moans, and then you feel the shock of warm ropes of cum landing on your skin, dripping down your sensitive, swollen cunt and pooling on the sheets.

It’s only then that the blindfold is pulled off, and you can see the mess they’ve made of you. Patrick’s cum dried and smeared over your stomach and Art’s abs, Art’s cum glazing your pussy. They untie your hands and you don’t even realize until then that they’re all tingly with lack of blood flow. Patrick rubs his thumbs into your palms, trying to soothe the ache as Art scrambles to find some way to clean you up. Sweet boys, even if they try to deny it.

“So which one of us—“ Patrick begins, before Art throws the towel he used to clean you up in his face. His expression twists in annoyance, but he knows better than to ask again. He’s fine keeping it a tie… for the time being, that is.

[voyter]

LOVENOTES ! ... valentines special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

trying your hardest to avoid valentine’s day, you suddenly find yourself at the center of it when a secret admirer starts leaving notes at your door.

word count. 5.2k words warnings. neighbor au. secret admirer koo (hes giving stalker a little more ngl). wrote this while on my period so if reader sounds like a moody bitch you know why. me highkey lowkey channeling my hatred for valentines day in this. pure filthy smut. protected sex. blowjob. titty fuck !! COWGIRL YEEHAW !! kinda subby jungkook (BACK TO MY ROOTS). kinda dom reader.

ana’s notes. happy valentines day xx !! wrote this one in a few days so its short and sweet (also rushed it so i can get back to my other stuff oops). hope she is still somewhat enjoyable .. heh. keep your comments positive or say nothing at all, besos my babies !!

You hated February.

Maybe it was because you were utterly single. Or maybe it was the bitterness that still lingered after all these years. Your last relationship had ended just days before Valentine's Day, leaving you with nothing but a broken heart and a newfound hatred for the most romantic month of the year.

You despised the store displays overflowing with pink and red, the obnoxious heart shaped balloons, the overpriced bouquets of roses, and the sickly sweet scent of chocolates that seemed to mock you at every turn. Love was everywhere — except in your life.

You fucking hated February!

February 10th, 4 days before Valentine’s Day.

“Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, your cute neighbor, lived in the apartment across from yours. You weren't exactly close, but there was an unspoken familiarity between you, built on polite greetings and the occasional small talk. He was the only person near your age on this floor otherwise occupied by older residents, making your interactions feel practically inevitable.

"Hey," he greeted back, glancing over his shoulder as he jiggled his key into the lock. "How've you been?"

His voice was warm, casual, like he wasn't in a rush to disappear behind his door just yet.

"I'm good. Haven't been doing much but working," you say, fiddling with your keyring in search of the right one.

Jungkook chuckles, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, same. Feels like that’s all I do lately." Work had been wearing him down too — you could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he rolled his neck like he was trying to shake off the tension.

"Ugh, tell me about it," you groan, exhaling dramatically. "What about you? How are you? How's Bam?"

"We're good, yeah," he says, perking up slightly at the mention of his dog. "He just goes to daycare while l'm at work, so he surprises me when he actually listens well.”

"How cute!" you exclaim. "Your baby's growing up so fast."

"Stop," he whines dramatically. "He's gonna be my baby forever."

You giggle, finally finding the key you were searching for and sliding it into the lock. As you turn it, Jungkook shifts on his feet, hesitating for just a moment before his mouth betrays him.

"Hey, you doing anything for Valentine's Day?"

The question lingers in the air, casual yet hesitant, like he hadn't really planned to ask it. His gaze flickers to you, gauging your reaction, but you're too busy scrunching your nose in mild distaste as you push your door open.

"Not really my thing," you admit. "You?"

"Yeah, not my thing either," he chuckles breathily, looking down at his feet.

"No flowers or chocolates for either of us, huh?" you tease lightly.

Jungkook smirks, shaking his head. "Guess not."

You step inside, gripping the edge of the door. "See you later, Jungkook."

"See you," he says with a smile, just before you shut your door.

With a deep exhale, you toss your keys and purse onto the kitchen counter, the weight of the day settling into your shoulders as you slip off your heels. The relief is instant, but the irritation still lingers.

Why was everyone so obsessed with Valentine's Day? The heart shaped decorations, the endless conversations about sappy plans and gifts — it was exhausting.

Fuck Valentine's Day. Fuck February.

You groan, running a hand down your face. All you wanted was to get through the month without being constantly reminded of how single you were.

Was that too much to ask?

February 11th, 3 days before Valentine’s Day.

Work ends the next day — neither good nor bad. It just ends. The hours blur together, another day checked off the calendar. But the one thing you are sure of? You’re more than ready to get out of this pencil skirt and heels and sink into a nice, warm bubble bath.  

The elevator ride up to your floor is quiet, and you shuffle toward your apartment, already mentally unwinding. But something stops you in your tracks.  

A bouquet of roses sits on the ground in front of your door, deep red petals almost glowing against the dull hallway lighting. An envelope rests beside it.  

Flowers for you. – Ian

Ian… 

You stare at the note, brows furrowing. There was no one named Ian that you knew. No one on this floor by that name either ��� at least, not that you were aware of. And you weren’t in the mood for some weird mystery admirer situation. You turn it over as if more context might magically appear. But there’s nothing — no last name, no explanation, just those three little words.

With a huff, you unlock your door and step inside, kicking off your heels with a sigh of relief the second you're through. The roses are still clutched in your hand, their scent lingering in the air, but you don’t bother appreciating them. Maybe these were sent to the wrong door. Some poor soul was probably expecting a grand romantic gesture, and now their flowers were here, at your feet.  

Not your problem.  

You glance at the bouquet one last time before scooping it up and marching straight to the trash can. With zero hesitation, you drop the roses inside.

Sorry to whoever was supposed to receive them — should’ve given Ian the right apartment number.

February 12th, 2 days before Valentine’s Day.

Just like yesterday, something was lying by your door. This time, a box of chocolates.  

After just coming back from the gym, sweaty and exhausted, you were just as over this as you were yesterday. If anything, it was even more annoying now.  

You sigh, scooping up the box and envelope before unlocking your door. The weight of exhaustion clings to your body, the post workout soreness settling in. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with more force than necessary, and set your keys and water bottle on the kitchen counter.  

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the envelope. You should shower. Eat something. Do literally anything else. But instead, curiosity — or maybe irritation — gets the better of you, and you rip open the note. 

The handwriting inside is neat, precise — almost too careful, like every letter was written with intention.  

Something sweet for someone even sweeter. – Ian

So… Ian was persistent.  

You scoff, grabbing the chocolates and tossing both the box and the note straight into the trash without a second thought. For all you knew, this person could've been a psycho, and you sure as hell weren't going to risk getting poisoned.

Shaking your head, you make your way to the bathroom, stripping off your gym clothes as you go. The hot water is already running by the time you step in, steam curling around you, but even as the warmth soothes your sore muscles, your mind keeps turning.

Who the hell is lan?

Maybe it was someone from a different floor. But that didn't explain how they knew exactly which apartment was yours.

No, whoever it was has been watching you.

February 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day.

It's different this time.

No chocolates. No bouquets. Just an envelope.

A single, unassuming envelope resting against your door like it had been waiting for you.

You grunt as you bend down, fingers hesitating for half a second before you rip it open, right there in the dimly lit hallway.

The answer is right in front of you. – lan

A slow, creeping unease washes over you. Your eyes flick up, scanning the hallway, suddenly hyper aware of how empty it is. The silence feels heavier now, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly.

Right in front of you.

Your breath hitches as you turn your head, your gaze landing on the only thing in front of you.

Jungkook's door.

No fucking way.

You hesitate.

You could just pretend you never figured it out. Walk inside, close the door, and let Jungkook keep thinking you were oblivious. Maybe it would be easier that way — to let him stew in his own nerves, to pretend you were just some ditsy neighbor who never connected the dots.

But he was cute. So, so cute.

And that was enough to make you lift your hand and knock.

The door swings open within seconds, like he'd been waiting on the other side.

Jungkook blinks at you, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

"It's you," you say, holding up the note between your fingers.

A breathy laugh escapes him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

He'd been watching you through the peephole this whole time, waiting.

Jungkook practically knew your schedule — when you left for work, when you got back, the perfect window to sneak out, place his little surprises by your door, and disappear before you could ever catch him in the act.

It was him. All this time.

Jungkook was Ian.

You stare at him, expression unreadable as he leans casually against the doorway, a lazy, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Thought you'd never figure it out," he says, eyes flickering to the note still pinched between your fingers. "Had to give you a clue."

"How was I supposed to know it was you?!" you exclaim, waving the note in his face. "And what's the deal with lan?"

Jungkook leans against the doorframe, utterly unbothered. "Fake name," he admits with a small smirk. "Thought it'd be fun. Didn't realize you were this clueless, though."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "Well, sorry I was too busy thinking I had some creepy stalker to suspect it was my neighbor."

His smirk falters slightly, and he scrunches his nose. "Right... yeah, that part wasn't my best move." He shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I apologize on my behalf. I probably should've kept the letters a little less terrifying."

You let out a small chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, you think?"

Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you know it's me... can I ask again what you're doing tomorrow?"

You smile, a little too amused. Girly, even. "I told you, Jungkook. Not really my thing."

He exhales dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just wounded him. "How can I make it your thing?"

You bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you turn on your heel and walk toward your door. “Goodnight, Jungkook."

"Really?" he asks, almost desperately.

You pause at your door, glancing at him over your shoulder. "My favorite flowers are lilies," you say simply, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

Jungkook watches you, lips parting slightly like he wasn't expecting that answer. Then, he exhales a quiet laugh, tonguing his cheek. "You're unbelievable."

You shrug, a satisfied little smirk in place. And with that, you slip inside, shutting the door behind you — leaving him standing there, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe, for the first time in a long time, February didn't seem so awful.

February 14th, Valentine’s Day.

You woke up today not absolutely hating it. Which was crazy. Because usually, the moment you remembered it was Valentine's Day, you'd launch into an internal monologue about how stupid, overhyped, and downright annoying this holiday was.

But today? Today was different.

You'd gotten dressed with a little more care, taken your time with your makeup, and even picked out a cute outfit. Now, in the kitchen, seamlessly baking cookies, you spot something slip beneath your apartment door.

Your lips twitch into a smile.

Quickly, you set the pan on the stove, turning off the oven before rushing over. You scoop up the envelope, fingers tearing it open with far more excitement than the past few days.

Your heart does a little flip as your eyes scan the words inside.

Be my Valentine? – Jungkook

Squealing, you completely neglect the cookies as you rush to his apartment. You barely wait a second after knocking twice before the door swings open.

Jungkook stands there, dressed simply — jeans and a shirt — but his hair is styled, and in his hands, he holds a bouquet of pink lilies.

His smile is boyish, teasing. "Yes?"

You beam at him, heart racing. "Yes." You take a step closer. "Yes, yes, yes.'

And then, before you can overthink it, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.

Jungkook grins against your lips, pecking them once more before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are warm, filled with something soft, something you think you could get used to.

"Come," he says, lacing his fingers with yours. "I wanna show you something."

He sets the lilies down on the counter, just for a moment, before taking your hand again and leading you down the hallway of his apartment. The quiet hum of the space feels different now — charged with something exciting, something you didn't expect.

He stops in front of a door, pushing it open to reveal a room that takes your breath away.

Rose petals scatter across the floor, leading to the bed. The curtains are shut, dimming the room into a soft, intimate glow. Candlelight flickers from every corner, casting warm, golden shadows on the walls.

It's romantic in a way that feels like it could be a dream, but it's real. And it's all for you.

"I would've never pegged you for the romantic type," you tease, your smile playful as you look up at him.

He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try..." he says, almost shyly.

He sounds humble, as if he hadn't spent the entire day making sure everything was perfect — setting up every little detail, making sure nothing was out of place. Even dropping off Bam at his brother's house so there'd be no distractions.

Your smile deepens, and you reach for his hand, gently pulling him toward the bed. "Well, I'm glad you did."

As you guide him closer, your heart beats a little faster. The room feels smaller now, with just the two of you in it, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows that make everything seem more intimate.

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes darkening with desire, a playful curve to his lips as he watches you.

You nod, humming in response, your fingers lightly brushing his chest before you gently push him to sit on the bed. His hands rest on the mattress, steadying himself as he looks up at you, his gaze almost too intense — wide eyes, glossy with something hungry and eager, like a desperate puppy awaiting a command.

"I think you deserve something in return, don't you think?" you ask, your voice dripping with sweetness and something more, something sultry.

His breath hitches, a nervous tension creeping into his expression as he stutters, "W- we don't have to..." His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, a mix of hesitation and desire.

You smirk, moving closer, your fingers grazing along the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on..." you press, leaning in just enough for him to feel your breath on his skin. "Don't you wanna open your present?"

His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see his resolve starting to crumble. The space between you feels charged, and with that one simple question, everything shifts.

You grab his hand, guiding it to the hem of your slip dress, your fingers curling over his as you urge him to pull it up. His breath hitches, and he obeys without hesitation, dragging the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your thighs inch by inch. With your help, the dress finally slips over your head and pools at your feet, forgotten. Your breasts bounce slightly in the confines of your red lingerie, the delicate lace pressing against your flushed skin, a sinful contrast that has his gaze darkening with desire.

You climb onto his lap, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of him. His hands settle gently on your thighs, warm and steady, but you want more. Grabbing his wrists, you guide them lower, pressing his palms firmly against the curve of your ass.  

"Go ahead," you whisper, lips brushing his ear. "I'm all yours."  

A low moan slips from his mouth as his grip tightens. His fingers trail upward, skimming the curve of your spine before reaching the clasp of your bra. With practiced ease, he unhooks it, the straps slipping from your shoulders as the lace falls slack against your skin. You slide it off completely and toss it aside, where it joins the heap of your discarded dress.

"You're so pretty," he breathes, almost whining, his voice dripping with desperation. His fingers flex against your bare skin, and before you can respond, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss.  

It’s all heat and urgency — the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands roam, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch you first. His grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the way his heart pounds just as wildly as yours.

Suddenly, you're slipping off his lap, sinking gracefully to your knees in front of him. His breath hitches, eyes dark with anticipation as he watches you settle between his legs.  

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. Down, past his firm abs, until you reach his belt. You toy with the buckle, teasing, letting your nails scrape lightly against the leather before you start to undo it, dragging out the moment just to see him squirm.

You make quick work of his belt, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness that has him shifting in anticipation. Then, you tug at his jeans, dragging them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.  

The moment he's freed, his cock springs up, thick and aching, the tip flushed and already leaking. A shaky breath escapes him as he watches you, his hands gripping the sheets like he’s barely holding himself together.

His cock is so pretty — long, thick, and flushed a deep, needy red. It twitches under your gaze, and you swear you hear him let out the softest whimper.  

Since you had the audacity to throw away his roses and chocolates, it’s only fair you make it up to him. And what better way than giving him a night to remember?  

You start slow, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Your thumb swipes over the tip, spreading the precum before you lean in, lips barely grazing him. Then, with a teasing flick of your tongue, you kitten lick the head, tasting him, savoring the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his thickness as you sink down slowly, inch by inch. The weight of him on your tongue makes your thighs clench, and the deep groan he lets out only fuels the heat pooling in your belly.  

His hands fly to your hair, fingers threading through the strands before he gathers them into a makeshift ponytail. He tugs just enough to make you hum around him, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.  

"Ah fuck," he breathes, his grip tightening, his hips twitching like he’s holding back from thrusting deeper.

You take him in until you reach your limit, his tip pressing against the back of your throat. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe through your nose, adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. Then, with a deliberate squeeze of your throat, you swallow around him.  

The reaction is immediate — his whole body jolts, a shudder running through him as a deep, broken moan spills from his lips. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip almost desperate as he fights the urge to push deeper.  

You bob your head a few more times, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him in deep before pulling off with a wet pop. A thin string of spit connects your lips to his flushed tip, and without breaking eye contact, you let it drip onto his cock.  

Wrapping your hand around his slick shaft, you start stroking him, slow and deliberate. The obscene, squelchy sounds echo in the room, mixing with his sharp breaths. His cheeks and ears burn crimson under the dim lighting, and when his hooded eyes finally meet yours, they’re filled with nothing but pure admiration — and need.  

Shifting on your knees, you move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your own. Then, without warning, you do something that catches him completely off guard.  

You grab your breasts, cupping the soft flesh in your hands, and press them together as you lean down, sliding his cock right between them.  

“Oh, gosh,” he moans breathily, his head falling back. His hands grip the sheets beneath him, knuckles turning white as he struggles to ground himself.  

A slow, teasing smile spreads across your lips. “You like this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes as you press your breasts tighter around his cock, moving up and down to create that delicious friction.  

His chest rises and falls with each shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Yes,” he moans, voice rough, almost wrecked. “Fuckin’ love it.”  

His eyes flicker down, hooded and heavy with desire, watching intently as your perfectly manicured fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, pressing them tighter around his cock. The way he glides so easily between them, warm and slick, like he was made to be there — it’s intoxicating. Addictive. And he never wants it to end.  

His breath stutters, his chest rising and falling in ragged pants as he forces himself to keep watching, to burn the image of you into his memory. Every sinful, wet glide. Every soft squeeze of your hands. It’s too fucking good.  

Then, his control begins to slip. His hips twitch, then jerk, chasing the pleasure you’re giving him, unable to hold back any longer. The spark of restraint he’d been holding onto is thinning, unraveling fast, and now he’s moving on pure instinct, desperate for more. His palms press into the mattress, fingers curling into the sheets as his hips start moving, bucking up into the tight warmth of your breasts. It’s slow at first, a gentle roll of his hips, as if he’s savoring the feeling of your soft skin gliding around him.  

But he’s losing himself, second after second. His restraint is slipping, his movements growing more desperate, more needy. The slick sounds of his cock sliding between your tits fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional shaky moan that escapes his lips.  

“You wanna cum?” you ask, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes — such a contrast to the sinful way you’re working him.  

“Yes!” he blurts out, voice strained and desperate. His grip on the sheets tightens, his hips jerking up a little harder, chasing the friction. “So fucking bad!”  

His chest heaves, abs flexing with each ragged breath as he watches you, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s right there — at the brink of his release, barely holding on, waiting for you to give him permission to fall apart.

But you don’t let him.  

Instead, you pull away, leaving him aching, throbbing, desperate. A strangled whine escapes his lips as his cock twitches in the empty space where your warmth once surrounded him. His hands flex against the sheets, like he wants to grab you, to pull you back, to demand you finish what you started.  

But before he can, you rise to your feet and climb back onto his lap, your lips crashing into his in a searing, breath stealing kiss. He groans into your mouth, rough and frustrated, his hands immediately finding your hips, gripping them so tightly you know you’ll feel it tomorrow.  

He’s all anguish, all need, kissing you like he’s trying to take back the pleasure you just ripped away from him. His tongue is desperate, his teeth grazing your lips, his hips bucking up into you on pure instinct. He’s losing his mind, and you love every second of it.

You grab the hem of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin before tugging it up and over his head. He barely hesitates, lifting his arms to help you before tossing it aside, letting it join the mess of discarded clothes on the floor.  

With a frustrated grunt, he kicks off his jeans completely, leaving him bare and exposed, his cock still aching, flushed, and desperate for relief. His eyes stay locked on you, dark and heavy with lust as he shifts back onto the bed, settling against the pillows.  

You strip yourself from your panties before you climb onto the bed, straddling him with ease, your thighs bracketing his waist. His cock, hard and heavy, nudges against your thigh, smearing precum against your flushed skin.  

“Condom?” you ask.  

Without hesitation, he reaches over to his nightstand, yanking the drawer open. His movements are hurried, almost frantic, as he grabs a foil packet from the box inside. The crinkle of the wrapper fills the space between you as he rips it open with his teeth, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, dark and filled with anticipation.

He rolls the condom just over the tip, his breath shaky, but before he can finish, you take over. Your fingers brush against his as you grasp the base of his cock, sliding the latex down slowly, teasingly, making sure it fits snugly around his thick length.  

Then, with a steadying breath, you adjust yourself over him, holding his cock by the base as you position yourself just right. The anticipation is thick in the air, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin — though you both know he’s barely holding himself together. Slowly, you sink down, taking him inch by inch, feeling the way he stretches you open. The delicious burn has you both gasping, your breath hitching as pleasure overtakes you. Beneath you, Jungkook moans, his jaw clenched as he fights to keep control, his fingers pressing bruising marks into your hips.  

Your hands find their way on his broad, sweaty chest, fingers splayed across his firm muscles as you start to move. Lifting up just enough before sinking back down, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath.  

As the stretch becomes more comfortable and your pussy grows wetter, the glide becomes effortless, letting you move with ease. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mingling with both of your breathy moans.  

You start bouncing faster, your rhythm picking up with each passing second. His cock drags against your walls just right, hitting that spot that makes your back arch, your nails digging into his chest.  

“You’re so fuckin’ big, baby,” you moan, your voice breaking with every bounce, pleasure shooting through you with each movement.  

Beneath you, Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh — flustered, shy even. His cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if your words are too much for him to handle. He doesn’t say anything back, just exhales shakily, completely overwhelmed by the way you feel wrapped around him.  

You push yourself up from his chest, hands moving behind you to plant firmly on his thighs, changing the angle. The shift makes everything deeper, makes his cock hit spots that have your head tilting back, a sharp moan escaping your lips.  

His hands roam up your waist, his fingers spreading wide as they slide up to your tits. He palms them with reverence, his touch almost hesitant at first, before he gives in, squeezing, kneading, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples. His breath stutters beneath you, his head pressing back into the pillows, completely lost in the way you feel.

One of his hands slowly makes its way down, his fingers grazing over your stomach before his thumb finds your clit. The first touch is gentle, testing, but when he feels the way you shudder above him, the way your walls flutter around his cock, he starts rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  

A sharp gasp escapes you, your thighs trembling as the pleasure intensifies. “Jungkook-” you whimper, your hands gripping his thighs behind you for stability as your movements start getting sloppy, more frantic.  

He just watches you, completely mesmerized. His breath is ragged, his brows drawn together in pure concentration as he works you closer to your high, his thumb pressing down a little harder, rubbing faster, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your bouncing.  

His cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside you, and with his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit, the pleasure swells uncontrollably. It’s too much — all consuming, dizzying, rushing over you faster than you expected.  

Sensing the closeness of your release, Jungkook plants his feet against the mattress, gripping your waist tighter as he thrusts up into you. His pace stutters, his hips snapping up with more urgency as he nears his own breaking point, chasing the same high that you were.

At that exact moment, you clench tightly around him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves, intense and electrifying. It’s as if everything pulses in rhythm, the shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you. At the same time, he’s driven to the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside the condom, his body trembling as his release mixes with yours.

You both ride out your highs, your bodies trembling together as the room fills with your breathy moans, the sound thick with pleasure. Each shudder, each gasp, echoes in the stillness, a shared moment of pure connection and release.

Once the pleasure starts to subside, you gently pull yourself off of Jungkook’s softening cock, settling beside him. He removes the condom with a quick, practiced motion, tying it up before tossing it into the trash beside his nightstand. With a soft sigh, he reclines back, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your chest. Your fingers find their way into his hair, lightly massaging his scalp as the two of you linger in the quiet, comfortable warmth of each other’s embrace.

“Thank you for today,” you say softly, your voice laced with gratitude.

Jungkook lifts his head from your chest, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His smirk is playful as he teases, “Is it your thing now? Or should I have Ian sending you flowers and letters every year from now on?”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a light swat. “Maybe have Jungkook send them instead, yeah?”

He hums in thought, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Noted,” he says with a grin before leaning in, capturing your lips in another sweet kiss. He pulls back slightly, a playful spark in his gaze. “So, how about dinner and a movie?”

You sit up, a teasing smile forming as you push him back by his chest, then straddle him once more. You lean down, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “I was thinking maybe round two.”

He chuckles, a low sound of amusement escaping him as his hand reaches for another condom in the drawer. A playful glint dances in his eyes as he prepares for what’s to come.

Oh yeah, Valentine’s Day was most definitely your thing now.

© voyter 2025, all rights reserved.

[emchante]

wet dream

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: after a long day, oscar suggests you both take a nap together. however, oscar didn't get to sleep himself. how could he when you're rutting against him due to the wet dream that decided to play in your mind?

WARNINGS: 18+ content, dry humping/ thigh grinding, slight masturbation, vague somnophilia

w.c: 1.4k

a/n: 2 posts in 2 days? look at me go. anyways, first oscar post!! i'm so happy to finally have written for him, and i hope you guys enjoy. ell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask, i'd love to hear your feedback. and if this gets enough love then part 2 will be on the way. and, remember that requests are open.

it started out innocent enough. 

your bedroom was dimly lit, the faint glow from the bedside lamp was cast upon the walls. you and oscar were laying on the bed together, exhausted after a long day. 

it was oscar who had suggested it. 

“you look done in,” he murmured, laying on his side as he lifted his hand to cup your face. “maybe you should go for a little nap.”

you whined in return, a “nooo,” leaving your lips before you buried your head into his chest. “i need to spend as much time with you as possible, before you’re gone again.”

oscar smiled sympathetically— not that you seen it— before moving his hand to your hair, stroking it softly. “hey, a nap won’t do any harm. i’ll nap with you too, how does that sound?” he offered, making you lift your head from his chest as you looked at him. “that way.. we’re still technically spending time together,” he winked at you, making you smile.

that’s what got you where you were now. your body was pressed close to oscar’s, your head resting against the nape of his neck, one of your legs draped over his own. the steady rise and fall of your breath was proof you were knocked out cold, that oscar’s suggestion was worth it. 

oscar couldn’t sleep though. he was tired too, of course, but your soft breathing against his neck kept him wide awake, as well as as the constant shifting in your sleep, trying to get yourself comfortable. 

at first, it truly was innocent. 

the little nuzzle into his neck, was simply you trying to move impossibly closer to him. the shift of your leg against his own seemed innocent too, albeit the fact it rubbed against his crotch. but it was all accidental, of course. you were a restless sleeper, and that’s what he put it down to.

it was all innocent. until it wasn’t. 

your movements started to feel more deliberate, as your leg was now sliding higher up his thigh, staying there. it was impossible to miss the full body tense that consumed you, before a soft, almost inaudible moan escaped your lips. 

oscar’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened in realisation; you’re grinding against his thigh, clearly caught up in whatever fantasy was playing in your mind. 

he tries to stay still, tried to not focus on the slow yet insistent press of your hips against his thigh that sends a jolt of pleasure right to his core. he can feel the heat of you, even through the thin fabric that was separating you both from one another, the way you’re seeking something, even in your dream.

oscar’s cock twitches in his boxers, and he bites down hard on his bottom lip— trying to hold back any noises that threatened to escape him— as his hands fisted the sheets, trying to refrain from grabbing onto you. 

the movements of your body against him began to grow more insistent, each shift of your hips becoming more rhythmic. your leg tights around his thigh, trying to pull oscar closer as you let out another moan, this time more needy. 

oscar didn’t need to see your face to know you were having the time of your life, he could feel your features scrunching up against his skin, and your lips forming ‘o’ shapes every time a whine or moan escaped you. 

he can feel the dampness of your panties against his leg, soaking part of his leg and his shorts, and the feeling only sends a fiery heat throughout him. 

you mumble something incoherent in your sleep, but the tone in your voice is unmistakable— desperation. you’re rutting against his thigh like you can’t help it, out of control. like your body needs him, even in your dreams. 

oscar doesn’t know when it happened but when he came back to his senses, he realised his hand was now barely hovering above your waist. he was fighting a battle against himself, between restraint and the overwhelming urge to guide your body against his soaked thigh. 

his fingers twitch as he imagined pulling you down against him, helping you achieve what you were oh-so desperately chasing. the soft, breathy gasps were quickening against his neck, and oscar’s cock was painfully hard now, straining against his boxers. 

he lets out a shaky breath as your hand slips under his shirt, brushing against his abs. the touch is light and almost hesitant, as if you’re still finding your way about him in your dream. but every featherlight touch of the soft pads of your fingertips sends shivers through him, and he has to stifle any noises threatening to leave him. 

your breathing quickening isn’t something oscar misses, and he knows you’re getting closer. the friction of his thigh against your clothed pussy has you letting out a series of small, desperate whimpers, and oscar’s close to losing the battle against restraint. 

it doesn’t take long for it to come crashing down, though.

the whiny pant of “osc” that left your lips was what broke him. oscar couldn’t stop his hand from moving onto your waist, gripping your plush hip as he helped you move against him. he knew you didn’t mind, in fact; he knew you loved it, the groans that started to leave your mouth more often after his large fingers dug into your skin was confirmation of such. 

his eyes were dark with lust as he watched your body move against him, so needy and so desperate for release. his eyes drifted down to watch your clearly soaked panties move against his thigh, and oscar couldn’t stop himself. his free hand moved itself to your sensitive core, swiping two fingers along your clothed clit which caused your to involuntary buck against him in shock, a strangled moan leaving you. 

“shit,” oscar panted, licking his lips at your reaction. he moved his hand from your core, leaving it to rest atop his clothed, straining cock. oscar gave himself a small squeeze, as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure. he needed his own release so badly, but he would hold off; he’d wait until later. 

your movements were once again changing, now becoming more urgent as you subconsciously buried your face further into his neck. a choked gasp slips from your lips, hips jerking forward and trying to press down harder. he can feel your slickness through his shorts, and it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

your thighs clench around his left one, pulling him closer. you're whimpering now, every breath was a little cry of desperation, and oscar can feel how your body is trembling against him. 

oscar’s hand moves from your hip to your ass, squeezing it softly as he pushes you further into him. “come on, baby,” he whispers, watching your body continue to rut against him like a rabid dog; all in your sleep. 

then, suddenly, your body goes taut, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips. your hips press hard against his thigh, and your grinds are now moving in small, desperate circles. oscar can feel your pussy clenching against him as you finally reach the tip of your climax. 

you let out a breathless cry, your body shuddering as the orgasm washes over you. oscar’s breath catches in his throat as he watches, mesmerized by the way how lost you are in your pleasure, even though you were sound asleep. 

you ride out every last wave of your climax, and he can feel your wetness pooling against the skin of his thigh, soaking it and some of the fabric of his shorts. his rabbit-like teeth bite down on his bottom lip, a low groan escaping him as his dick throbs almost painfully at how aroused he is himself. 

slowly, your body allows itself to relax, the tension in your muscles easing as breath resumes in it’s normal, steady rhythm. you’re still trembling a little, hand clenched as it moved to rest on his chest under his shirt. you move to rest your cheek on oscar’s shoulder now, soft snores escaping your lips. 

oscar moves his head back to see you, and your eyes are fluttered shut, your face relaxed with your mouth slightly open. you’re asleep now, the wet dream that has consumed you was now over as you started to resume the peaceful sleep you went for originally.  

his eyes moved down to his shorts, looking at the dark patch of wetness that had stained them. they then moved to his crotch, where his erection was still visible, and he could still feel it throb. oscar licked his lips before gulping, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. 

this wasn’t over, he just had to wait until you woke up. 

[burnforyou]

STUDY - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! cunnilingus (female receiving), thigh grinding, smut. guys I need him I'm sorry. he has a very sittable face so here’s this. also this is short and kinda lazy but still hot so its okay!

it started innocently: rewarding him every time he got an answer right. with a kiss. as you sit on his lap in a short skirt that looks straight out of a porno.

until it turned into grinding on his thigh. his thick, muscular thigh was just too perfect to not grind on.

luigi pretended not to be affected by your antics, but he was getting every practice question wrong, even the ones that he knew, and his cock was raging beneath his zipper. he flexed his thigh and locked up at you, waiting for you to read the next flashcard aloud. instead you gasped at the feeling of his thigh hardening.

"what's it say? read it." he commands.

"I-" you gasp as he grips onto your waist and brings you further up his thigh, your bare thigh now brushing against his cock with every movement. your empty hand falls onto his chest and the other still holds onto his flash cards, forgotten now. "need you," you whimper, your head falling onto his shoulder.

his big hand reaches under your skirt and gropes your ass. you begin leaving a wet spot on his jeans.

"you're so desperate, hm?" he groans into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. all you can do is whine in reply. he breathes harder and you feel his chest rising faster and faster.

"what do you need? tell me, y/n"

"I need you to fuck me," you whimper into his neck. before you know it, he's lifting you up on his desk and he's on his knees in front of you. his dark eyes flicker between your pussy and your eyes.

he leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, approaching your pussy with delicacy.

"you're so wet for me." he says, sucking on your inner thigh, trying to leave a mark.

you grind onto his face desperately and whine.

"please, Luigi."

at the sound of your voice, he licks his lips and plants them on yours. your hips buck and your clit grazes his big nose. he grips your thighs and throws them over his shoulder, leaving him completely enthralled in your pussy. he shamelessly indulges in your smell, a carnal need for you shining through. he gazes up at your face, completely blissed out, almost at peace.

"you taste so good," he says into you, his teeth lightly scathing against you. you look down at him and grip onto his hair, pulling on his curls. he feverishly eats you like a starved man. it almost feels like worship, him on his knees before you, worshiping your body, treating you like a goddess.

his tongue lapping at your juices creates a lewd sound that's almost music to your ears. your thighs tighten around his head and bring him impossibly closer to you.

pressure begins to build up in your stomach and he feels you pulsing on his lips. in return, he laps at you deeper than before and pinches your clit.

"cum," he demands, groaning, "cum on my face."

you follow his command, cumming hard all over him. your back arches off the desk and you grasp onto his curls harder. he laps up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop. you ride out your orgasm by grinding all over his face, loving the pressure from his big nose on your hole.

he finally comes up from between your legs and smiles down at you fucked out on his desk. his face is almost completely covered in your juices, his swollen lips and nose glistening. he leans down and kisses you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. your hand traces the shape of his body down to his cock, and you gasp at the wet stickiness you feel.

"did you cum?" you break the kiss and whisper, palming the wet spot on his crotch.

"i-" he looks away, searching for something to say that wont make him lose all of his dignity. you grasp his face with your other hand and force him to look into your eyes.

"don't be embarrassed."

"I just love making you feel good." he says, ashamed. you pull him into you for a final kiss, claiming his lips against yours.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

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