#IM AT WORK TRYING TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE

[sakashq]

▮ make it to the morning. / pedri gonzalez x black!reader

ᝰ word count: ≈800

ᝰ summary: you and your boyfriend get into an argument, but he doesn’t take you seriously.

ᝰ yap!: umm dont hate me for this one! and yes this is based off of “make it to the morning” by pnd, im OBSESSEDDD. dedicated to pedri’s gf @planetpedri &&. my loves @ar4ujos , @halfwayhearted , @szalovebot !

Your boyfriend Pedri was driving while you sat in the front seat. You had already had a bad day at work, and all while you were telling him this, he got distracted by his phone.

“Are you fucking serious?” You frustratedly chuckled, looking over at him.

His eyes stopped on you briefly before looking back at the road, pulling into the neighborhood of his house. “What?” He glanced at his phone again, then looked back up.

“I’m trying to talk to you and you’re fucking texting and driving, trying to get us both killed.” It almost sounded like you were joking, the way your tone was playful, laced with the slightest bit of anger and annoyance.

“I’m just… asking Gavi about the plans for tomorrow. I’m sorry, babe, keep talking,” Pedri responded, this time looking over at you for longer and setting his phone down. He kept his gaze on the street though, driving through slowly.

You raised a brow, asking, “What plans?”

The dark haired man stayed silent, his eyes now locked on what was in front of him.

“Hello? I’m speaking,” you snapped a finger in front of his face, waiting for his answer.

“Me, Gavi, and some of the guys wanna go out tomorrow,” he shrugged, answering nonchalantly.

You had to stop yourself from snapping at him, instead saying, “So instead of listening to me tell you about my day you were texting your friends about plans I didn’t even know about. ‘Kay, Pedri.”

“I was gonna tell you,” Pedri immediately replied, a defensive sound in his voice.

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes, looking away from him and out of your window.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. As he pulled into the driveway, he said, “Y/n. Y/n, talk to me.”

You didn’t respond, getting out of the car immediately, grabbing your stuff and bringing it up to the door. You fiddled with the key trying to unlock the door, as a frustrated Pedri walked up to you.

“Hello? I’m speaking,” he retorted, a pit of anger piling up in his stomach. “I don’t get why you’re mad at me.”

Again, dodging him, you unlocked the door and walked into the house. You didn’t even bother to grab your keys afterwards, making him do it. You set your bags down on the kitchen counter and headed upstairs into his bedroom to sit down.

He knew where you were, following you up there after he locked the front door and set his stuff down. “Babe,” he tried again as he walked into the bedroom. He sat himself next to you, apologizing. “Baby, I’m sorry. Tell me what I did.”

You scoffed at first, but when you saw the upset look in his eyes, you decided to just answer him. “I was trying to fucking talk to you and you were ignoring me.”

“I was trying to get me and Gavi’s plans straight,” he defended himself. “I was still listening. Dios mío, llevas las cosas tan lejos.” He mumbled that last part under his breath, hoping you didn’t hear him.

You eyed him, knowing you didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but could grasp some parts of it. “Excuse you? Speak up.”

“Can you just save this for the morning? I’m tired, babe,” He groaned.

That set you off—who did he think he was trying to push off a problem he caused? “Fine. Bye, Pedro.” You got up from the bed, walking out of the room and downstairs.

“Wait, no, Y/n,” his voice sounded from behind you. “I don’t wanna fight, please.”

You ignored him, your face burning with anger. You began grabbing your stuff off of the counter, along with your keys Pedri had set next to the items.

“Y/n,” he gently grabbed your wrist, nearly forcing you to turn around.

“What?” You shouted at him, turning around to see… a ring?

He looked at you, really looked at you for the first time that night. He couldn’t help but smile, seeing your reaction. “This was the plan.”

“A promise ring?” Suddenly your anger died down, being replaced with a sense of adoration.

“We obviously can’t get married yet, but I want you to be the one when we get to that point. I wanted this to be a bigger surprise obviously, but I didn’t want you going home mad at me,” he spoke softly, no longer having a grasp of your wrist. “It’s only you, Y/n. It’ll only ever be you. I want you to promise that it’ll only be me.”

You hugged him before you could say anything, wrapping your arms around his neck. With your face nuzzled into him, you mumbled, “I love you forever. I promise.”

[hellion-child]

ok after seeing gifs and having the time to think about the episode itself some more, i have some thoughts. about how poorly it was done, abrupt, and like a slap in the face, etc. i still hate the notes of biphobia in it but also i can Forgive the biphobia if they also take the time to address the biphobia, yknow?

pls keep in mind that this is partly my interpretation, partly my fix-it/make-it-make-sense, partly my criticism. also im not a writer, im a bitch w brain damage to the communication part of their brain who refuses to shut the fuck up lmao this shit is hard for me to write out

so its the 6 month anniversary date and tommy is all in, hes exactly what we were shown him to be: fucking smitten. he gives his boyfriend an (i assume expensive gift?) (idk bball ticket prices) anniversary gift. buck doesnt have a gift for him, but like thats not the end of the world, right? its only 6 months, after all. but this moment should be the beginning of tommys insecurities. the ending of the honeymoon stage. a teeny tiny niggle of maybe buck isnt as invested in this relationship as tommy thought?

maybe thats just a fleeting insecurity that is immediately fueled by the hot chick. again, hate to lean into the biphobic stereotypes. as a bisexual, fucking hate it. buck unconsciously going to use his phone to take the picture and hot chicks "trying to get my number" comment. the way buck doesnt just say "actually im here with my boyfriend" (and buck doesnt have to say it, he can come out to who he wants to, when he wants to, when hes comfortable to. im firm on this but i can also acknowledge that it can also feed into tommys insecurities) this shouldve been when tommys insecurities start coming in and they shouldve shown it. show us the way tommy might use his cool confidence as a mask to hide his vulnerability!!

instead of bringing up abby now, let tommy sit on this feeling. hell, show us that hes feeling this way and hates it. we know hes all for clear communication, and has come a long way with himself. hes confident and comfortable. so show us him struggling with feeling insecure about buck possibly not being as invested as he is. eg with the one sided-gifting, tommy always showing up for buck and we havent been shown buck reciprocating (which means fuck-all with this show but could be used rn to further the angst), the reminder buck is new to dating men etc

they couldve shown us tommy talking to hen or chim about feeling insecure about bucks baby bi status and "being his first but not his last" and hating that he feels that way. that hes doubting buck like this. they gave us this man who worked hard to be where he is, why couldnt they take one fucking scene to show this to us?? its pretty common, actually, for a LI to talk to one of the 118 without the LIs partner being there. but not this LI? ok.

and bcos of how shitty tommy feels about it all, that is why he, uncharacteristically, does not talk about it with buck. tommy is still processing this internally and isnt comfortable bringing it up to buck. but we know buck, hes good at picking up on when something is wrong. maybe he asks and tommy brushes it off. maybe buck says nothing yet and just feels a little, wrong-footed maybe? a little insecure himself? something he has been working on in himself for a long time now and doesnt want to put on tommy.

and that leads to the abby of it all. for the bare minimum of fucking continuities sake, they were never engaged lmao just together a long time during a difficult time for both of them (tommy closeted and abby w her mothers decline) maybe they were talking marriage. i wanted this to come up in another scene (maybe even another ep). i think it makes more sense, for buck to straight up say in this conversation that yeah, he is The Himbo.

tbh, play into the absurdity of it all, classic 911 style. like, this convo happens when one is heading to work or something?? so the only time they have is to think "huh, what are the odds??" and awkwardly laugh about it. set it up that they dont have the chance to really think about the implications until later, when theyre apart.

later comes. and now, they are both spiralling. theyre both feeling insecure in their relationship, for different- and unknown to the other!!- reasons. this is when miscommunication takes over and both parties are hurt and confused and brings them to the point of being unable to have that mature, adult conversation about their issues

buck still goes to maddie, and josh still gives his lovely speech. now bucks feeling better about tommys past (also when maddie makes her "turned them gay" comment buck corrects her and fucking says hes bisexual) wouldve been great to see tommy talk to someone too, about him and abby and abby and buck. also fill in some of them plot holes while they are at it lmao

tommy talking to bobby, preferably. bcos he wasnt Captain Dad when tommy was there, they were never close. and they mention how tommy only referred to abby as "his gf" and she never had the time or interest to meet the 118 or visit the station idk and tommy didnt push for it either. give their relationship some nuance and clarity i guess!! and back up joshs great speech with some of how tommy felt back in those days! really take the time to fill all of this out, yknow?? and maybe talking with bobby about their shared past helps tommy feel a bit more secure with buck right now and ready to talk about it with him.

and now we get to the break up. now that these cracks are shown and seemingly repaired. they both try to talk about their insecurities, but it just goes wrong. buck spooks tommy with the moving in and marriage talk, tommy hurts buck with the "im ur first not ur last."

except this time tommy isnt saying it like a its a fact, instead he says that he fears that hes bucks first but not last. but buck takes that badly (understandable), like tommy hasnt been as invested in this relationship since he apparently has been waiting to break up for 6 months? and if so then why act like he was all in? etcetc

and tommy, yeah tommy has some shit to work thru still, but its also the way buck is talking of moving in and marriage and forever, his impulsiveness has tommy questioning again if they are really on the same page here. i can see tommy getting stuck on the "move in with me" bcos why would tommy leave his larger home to move into bucks loft? has buck even thought about this at all? hell, while they discuss abby, u could have buck, in an attempt to reconnect and reassure his trust in tommy, talk about mistakes hes made with exes (obvi example, what happened with taylor). and instead of reassuring tommy, it does the opposite (tbh im not a big fan of that, bringing up bucks past mistakes. but also it kinda does balance out tommys treatment of abby and continue bucktommys tit-for-tat sharing, yknow? except this time it goes wrong)

basically, theyre both trying to communicate and work thru these insecurities, these fucking hurdles, but theyre both too hurt and scared in this moment and we are watching them both try to make sense of it all and work it out, and we know they both want to but in this moment they just, cant. emotions are high and it gets a little mean (from both sides! not just tommy saying "i was never ur last", let buck do more than just be broken up with), the break up happens, tommy leaves.

(and then they cry and pine and get angry and try to move on and they cant and then somethings brings them back together (CTH!! 🚁💥🏥) and now they are in a better place to communicate and work thru these issues and kiss and make up and maybe at some point during all this theres a discussion or two about biphobia)

thanks fer reading this fukcing novel lmao i just feel that, if they had taken the fucking time to let this storyline fucking breath (god, let any of them breath this season, fuck) and put some fucking effort into it, i would not be so upset. maybe they had intended to portray some of this in that episode, if so they did it fucking terribly

anyway. again, im not very good at this but i love talking about and reading other ppls thoughts!! if someone feels they could write something more coherently, god. pls do lmao (also pls tell me if theres a typo or word or sentence that just makes no sense, i triple checked but aphasia is a cunt lmao)

[antrunner]

This just in, billionaire Bruce Wayne has brought a signed petition to Congress requesting legislative action to ban his eldest son, Dick Grayson, from all forms of polls. “I love my son dearly, but this injustice needs to come to an end. It’s out of control. How could I lose—I mean—It’s just unfair that every poll in this nation comes down to a fight for second. In the name of equity, my beloved son must be stopped.”

When asked to comment, current CEO of Wayne Industries, co-sponser of the contention BBG poll, and brother of Grayson, Timothy Drake-Wayne remarked “Honestly, I thrive on the chaos.”

Youngest Wayne Damian continues to deny accusations of voter fraud. “Such claims are absurd. Richard wins in his innumerable merits.” When asked his thoughts on the BBG poll, Damian shrugged. “ I don’t particularly understand the title but I’m sure Richard deserves to win”

A shocking number of Justice League, Young Justice Members and Titans have signed on to Wayne’s petition. It remains unclear why so many hero’s have united against this private citizen.

YOURE KILLING ME

[purpldawne]

for an akifuyu stan i sure do struggle to draw autumn and winter troupe

[anotherpapercut]

do any of you live in Oregon? I am considering applying to a bunch of jobs in Eugene and just leaving this shit hole instead of waiting til I have more money saved lmfao. idk anyone who lives up there tho and it would be nice to know someone in the Pacific Northwest lol

[thealleydog]

Meeting with this man in a button-down sundress and no panties? And spider theme piercings? Honorable mention of Lactation Kink℠? ¿¿¿Eres tu???

The whole wet, sloppy ass blowjob...

OH NO GOD HELP US THAT BIG ASS FACE OF HIS IS GIVING HER THE COOKIE THE MONSTER TREATMENT.

AFTERMATH...

Sweet Girl ™ resting on that thigh:

Miguel:

I need this man more than ever. I'm so glad tomorrow I'm gonna buy that digital release and have five minutes of heaven during these trying times. 🥹🕸

Confession

Summary: You come to Miguel when he least expects, and now there is no turning back.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 3.9k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessive Miguel. Inexperienced/V*rgin reader. Oral s*x. Body worship. Dry h*mping. Br*eding k*nk.

Part 1 - Previous part

Miguel chose to give you space and time.

For two whole days, he had kept all interactions with you at a minimum. 

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

It pained him that things between you two were now in this limbo. You were still your sweet self as expected, but Miguel had soured. Anyone within a three meter radius could spot it.

So when he walked into HQ with blood dripping from his face, no one dared approach him besides the occasional spider asking if he needed anything.

He dismissed all of them and headed to Lab 2 in search of a first-aid kit to deal with the bleeding bruises. 

"Need help, boss?" a fellow spider offered.

Miguel shook his head, and kept going through the countless shelves until you came into his field of vision right in the corner of his eye.

His heart immediately skipped a beat as usual.

Holding a small bag in your hand, you rummaged through it and handed him two pieces of gauze.

"Thanks," he grumbled under his breath, as he pressed the soft fabric to his face.

"What happened?"

Miguel scoffed and turned his head away from you, not wanting to extend the conversation.

He heard you heave a sigh. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Can you please move away, then?"

This time, he shifted to glare at you in confusion.

You smiled warmly and pointed at the lab counter that was covered in drops of blood.

Oh.

He grabbed the bag from your hands and began pacing towards his station, but it seemed that you had no intention of parting ways with him just yet.

And that hurt more than any of his wounds.

Having you around was intoxicating enough, but having to go days without barely seeing or interacting with you, had taken a toll on him.

And the result had been sloppiness and being caught off guard by an anomaly.

Very amateur of him.

Very unlike him.

And all because he had filled his mind with you, since he couldn't physically have you.

But you insisted on being present in his life even when you didn't have to.

Miguel walked through the door and let it slide shut, knowing fully well that wouldn't deter you from stepping inside as well. 

"Let me take a look. Please."

He threw you a side-glance, and stopped to glare at his own reflection on the nearby glass wall instead, and determined that the damage could have been much worse. 

"Miguel O'Hara, stop being stubborn and let me take a look."

Your kind voice was chewing at his nerves, and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from snapping.

He'd rather not have you at all than having your pity.

But then again, there was still that part of him that craved your attention.

And he gave in, like the fool he was. 

"Fine."

You were standing by his desk, and he saw the triumph glimmer in your face. "Take a seat."

He swallowed and did what you asked, allowing your hands to cup his face. Your touch had his stomach flip, and he couldn't bring himself from breaking eye contact with you, even when you moved your finger under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.

"Right," you said in a low voice, before removing the bloodied gauze. "It's very superficial. I think I can just use liquid stitches."

He figured as much, but his focus wasn't on his bodily bruises anymore, but on the delicate touch of your hands, the intensity of your roaming eyes, and, above all else, your warmth.

"Hold the bag a bit higher."

Miguel offered it to you, and you smiled in return.

That sweet smile of yours that had him tightly wrapped around your finger for so long.

His sweet girl…

Your touch left his skin briefly as you gathered the needed material to fix him. Miguel allowed his eyes to flutter shut, occasionally hissing from the sting of the antiseptic as you cleaned his wounds. His mind went blank for a few seconds, and he only focused on enjoying how you took care of him.

Miguel had forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. He had spent so much time looking after others, that having the roles switched felt so foreign, yet so welcome.

"I didn't think you could ever get injured," you said with a faint chuckle, breaking the comfortable silence.

Miguel knew you were trying to lighten the mood, but he remained silent.

You worked on him with impressive expertise, patching him up.

Once you were done, you lightly patted the edges of the adhesive that covered his wounds and stepped away.

Pride settled on your face, and you moved to sit on the chair across his. "Looking good as new."

"Thank you."

He wished he was strong enough to ask you to leave, but he had missed these little moments. He had accepted you needed time and space, but it still hurt to think that he could have been there for you, and that you had pushed him away instead.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a while before taking a deep breath. "Miguel… we should talk."

"What about?"

"Us."

Miguel slowly straightened in his seat. 

You had his full attention now.

"I don't want things between us to feel awkward," you began, eyes fixed on his. "I don't want us to grow apart…"

He hadn't seen this coming. He assumed it would take longer than this for you to come to him again.

He wasn't often wrong about many things, but he had been wrong about this.

Cocking an eyebrow at you, he leaned back. "Then what do you want?"

Your gaze faltered briefly. "I thought it'd be easier being with you intimately. It felt less… suffocating. It made it easier for me to bury my feelings." You paused and swallowed. "I know people do this casually, and I assumed you felt that way, too…"

He remained silent for a while, slowly digesting the information you had just dropped on him. 

It felt like a confession of sorts, but that last part left a sour taste in his mouth.

"You assumed wrongly," he finally spoke, face twisting into a light scowl. "Is this why you pushed me away the other day? Because you think I only look at you that way?"

Your eyes shot up and you shook your head. "I didn't push you away… I… never meant for that, anyway. I just needed time to think," you said in a whisper. "Like I said, I know some people do this casually… and I would be fine with you just wanting that. I still am," you corrected yourself.

A part of Miguel felt incredulous at this turn of events. Were you confessing you had deeper feelings for him? Or was it all surface-level? 

But another part of him wasn't allowing him to fully savour the first possibility. He wanted you. He needed you. But the conclusion you had drawn of him stirred annoyance inside him.

"What do you want from me?" He snapped a bit too harshly.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.

"Sex? I can give you that," he said dryly. "But that is not all I want. Is that all you want?"

You looked restless. "I… I think I want more."

"You think? I don't want anything from you that you won't give willingly," he said in a softer tone this time. "This doesn't have to be more than it is. If all you want is intimacy, I can help you out. But I wish for more, and I want you aware of that."

You remained still for a while as if weighing your options.

Not long after, you nodded.

There was absolutely no doubt inside him. He was sure of how he felt about you, and he was too desperate to have anything he could take. Even casual sexual intimacy if that was what it took to soothe his frustration.

But he couldn't hide his true intentions any longer, and had to make things crystal clear for you.

"What about Tom?"

Your eyes widened. "Tom?"

"Yes. How do you feel about him?"

He needed reassurance.

"We'll work on rebuilding our friendship… but that's it."

That was good enough. Realistically, Miguel didn't expect you to sever your bond to your childhood friend. He didn't even want you to, so long as you weren't getting your feelings hurt.

You then rose to your feet and walked to him with unsure steps. Once you were in front of him, Miguel instinctively parted his legs, allowing your to close the distance between you two.

You glanced around you, and Miguel knew what you were silently assessing.

With a quick tap of a finger on his watch, rendering the glass windows opaque.

The newfound privacy made you visibly relax, and you brought your hands to either side of his head, before raking gentle fingers through his hair.

Miguel had to bite back a moan, and tilted his head back, angling it perfectly with yours.

His heart drummed rapidly inside him as you lowered your face to press the softest kiss to his forehead, and he brought his arms to envelop you into a tight embrace, his chin resting in between your breasts.

There was comfort in this type of silence.

Actions did speak louder than words, after all.

The way you began trailing kisses down his face, carefully avoiding his wounds, had him melting into your touch.

You hesitated upon reaching his lips, hovering over them with your own.

He could feel your breath fanning them rhythmically, and he felt the impending erection stirring down below.

And then you kissed him.

It was shy and controlled at first, but he quickly parted his lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into him first, gently tugging at strands of his hair. Miguel's groan tore through his throat and he dropped his hands to your waist, gripping them tightly and bringing you closer to his strained erection.

You jolted once you felt it nudging your legs, breaking the kiss momentarily.

"Hard already?" 

The genuine tease in your voice awoke in him the urge to breed you. It was primal and intense, and he knew he should keep that to himself for now. However, he would need to know if you were on birth control eventually. 

"You make it easy," he chose to say, placing one hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another kiss.

He would devour you if you allowed him to.

His tongue slipped past his lips and met yours halfway. You tugged at his hair again and he bucked his hips against you.

He was so painfully hard and already dripping precum.

Just for you.

His sweet girl.

You let him take control and only parted from him once his other hand began to move to your front, fingers dipping between your legs.

Your body language told him to immediately stop, and he did.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "I'm… still getting used to this…" your voice was but a whisper. "Can I… come over to your place later today?"

His cock was throbbing impatiently, craving release from his tight digital suit, but he nodded.

He wanted you to feel comfortable and safe around him, so he placed your needs above his.

He silently vowed to always do this.

You brought your lips to his unarmed cheek and pressed a fleeting peck to it.

"See you later, Mr. Grumpy," you said with a smile before exiting through the sliding door.

Miguel looked down at the visible outline of his cock and contemplated easing some of the tension, but he decided against it.

He would gladly build up all the frustration within him and only you would be able to relieve him from it.

You came to him late at night, before the clock struck midnight.

For the second time that day, you had come to him.

Your steps echoed through the hall and you came into sight, immediately earning his undivided attention. 

"Hey, you."

Miguel's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hey."

You were wearing a flowery dress that trapped his gaze. It fit you perfectly, but he couldn't wait to get it off you.

Laughing nervously, you took determined steps to where he sat on his couch until you were close enough. 

Miguel met your eyes and watched carefully as you lowered yourself to straddle his waist. Instinctively, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your hips into him.

Then he noticed you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You giggled, biting your lip teasingly. "Is this too much?"

"It's not even enough."

He caressed your skin with his thumbs, as he positioned you right on top of his hardening cock, that was now stirring slowly inside his sweatpants.

You gasped softly as your folds parted to accommodate the underside of his cock, increasing the pressure on your clit.

Miguel considered immediately removed the only layer of clothing that was in the way, but he wanted to feel you soak the fabric.

"I really, really like you," you said through half-hooded eyes, caressing the edges of the bandage covering the wound on his cheek.

Then, you took his lips in yours.

This time, you were the one taking the lead and he let you set the pace. He tasted the impatience and hunger in you, and helped you grind against him. You were a fast learner. You already knew how to sway your hips sensually against his cock, drawing a low groan from him.

Miguel felt his cock fully harden just from feeling your body undulating under the palms of his hands. 

You were going to kill him one day. He was sure of this.

Your hands moved from his shoulder to your chest, undoing the cute buttons that held the dress together.

He broke the kiss so he could marvel at your breasts coming into view, as you allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders and arms.

The nipple piercings glistened, and he felt his cock twitch from the sight of the spider pendant dangling from each of them.

He wanted to make you custom ones. Maybe with his own symbol. Or his initials. He wanted to mark you as his, and what better way than this?

"Please touch me," you begged, arching your back lightly.

Sweet.

Hungry.

His.

He brought both hands to your chest and grazed your nipples with the pads of both thumbs, hardening them.

You moaned softly, and kept riding his clothed cock.

"Can I tug gently?"

"Please…"

Miguel's hips jerked to meet yours, and he felt your wetness finally seeping through his pants.

He twirled your nipples at first in between his fingers, before gripping the metal piercing, tugging ever so slightly in awe.

You gasped loudly this time, stilling yourself as he admired the jewelry.

"I'll make you custom ones," he promised, as he positioned himself to press a kiss to one nipple. "With my symbol."

You whimpered with a nod. "Yes…"

You'd look so pretty being marked by him.

He wrapped his lips around the nipple, capturing and twirling the pendant with his tongue.

Too bad you hadn't been bred yet. He would have loved to taste your milk as you carried his child. 

You pressed down on him, and the motion of your pussy dragging along his cock was enough to draw the first beads of precum.

He couldn't care less that he was about to get soaked in it, as he knew his body was only trying to prepare itself to be inside yours.

"Slowly… Miguel…" you pleaded in between moans, burying your hands in his hair. "Miguel…"

He could easily get addicted to you mumbling his name like that, but he did release the nipple, admiring how perky it looked.

Before he could have it in his mouth for a second round, you slipped off of him, settling on the floor and in between his legs.

He quickly spotted the damp spot along the outline of his cock from you grinding viciously on him.

"What is it?" he asked, unsure of what to do next.

A faint pout settled on your lips. "Can I… can you show me how to… do it?"

His eyes widened at the realisation of what you meant when your gaze landed on his crotch.

"Are you sure?"

You merely nodded, hands grasping at his waistband, gently pulling it down until his cock sprang free.

Immediately, you straightened yourself and shifted closer. He could feel your curious gaze on him, as strings of precum dripped from the tip.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how long it would take for him to cum from this.

"Open your mouth," he breathed, and you immediately complied. "Just give it a few licks first."

You nodded and darted out your tongue to press it flat along the underside of his cock.

He immediately flinched, but still gripping it at the base to to push it towards you.

You pulled back with a pout. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. It feels really good…"

A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "What now?"

He inhaled sharply, trying to keep himself from going over the edge too soon.

"Lick the tip…" 

This time, you wrapped your fingers around him, and positioned yourself until your tongue grazed along the tip, collecting the thick droplets of precum.

He had to grip the cushions on his couch to steady himself, not wanting to accidentally shove his cock into your mouth.

You kept your eyes on him, working your tongue around the sensitive tip until he saw the strings of precum mixed with your saliva begin to dribble from the corners of your mouth.

He immediately pressed his eyes shut.

The visual stimulation would only make him reach his peak faster, and he wanted you to be able to take his cock in your mouth before he exploded.

You kept giving him quick licks, further edging him.

"You need to stop…" he groaned, his hips lifting from the couch. "Please…"

Once you did, he opened his eyes again only to be met by the thick and long strings of precum of either side of your chin to drip down to your breasts.

"Too much?" you asked shyly, swiping your tongue along your bottom lip.

Fuck.

You looked so fucking delicious.

But he needed more.

"Do you think you can fit it in your mouth now?"

You quickly nodded. "I think so."

Miguel knew he was not going to last long. "Go slowly…"

You didn't need to be told twice, and craned your neck before lowering yourself and sliding the tip past your lips.

His hips instantly bucked, further sliding in and nearly gagging you.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, lovingly caressing your cheek.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it was hard to do with his thick cock stuffing your mouth.

"Suck gently…" he said with a groan that quickly turned into a hiss once you began to suckle softly. "Just like that…"

You were so good for him…

He saw your eyes watering slightly as you took him even deeper. "Don't be greedy… you're doing just fine, sweet girl."

By this point, more beads of precum and saliva began to spill from the corners of your mouth, streaming down your face until they connected under your chin into a single strand that dangled further and further down.

Miguel felt his balls tighten lightly as a warning sign.

He was actually impressed with how long it was taking for him to reach an orgasm.

And that was when he decided he didn't want to cum just yet.

Slowly, he gripped your chin and slid off your mouth, earning a muffled protest from you until he was fully out, a string of precum bridging your lower lip to his tip.

"Miguel… why?"

You were pouting again and he nearly lost it. 

"Come here," he asked, trying not to focus too much on how his body was throbbing for release.

You wiped the wetness from your face with the back of your hand, but did as you were told, standing up.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded right away. 

"I want you to lay on your back," he instructed with a sultry voice. "Then I want your legs over my shoulders."

You seemed to hesitate at first, but moved to sit on his thighs, as Miguel grabbed your hips to help you slide into his desired position. Your legs parted to rest on his shoulders and he effortless lifted your hips.

"Oh…" you drawled out as your dress slid up your thighs, until you were fully exposed to him.

Miguel almost groaned at the sight of your swollen clit peeking through your soaked folds.

"Tell me if it gets too much."

"Why would I-" your words did in your mouth the moment he dragged his tongue across your folds, tasting you for the first time.

He felt your hips jerk lightly under his touch, but he had decided to bring you over the edge with just his mouth.

So, naturally, Miguel began to eat you out.

His thirst for you was satiated with each flick of his tongue across your throbbing clit, yanking the most delicious gasps and whimpers from you.

He first let his tongue slide past your opening, as his nose pressed against your clit.

You choked on a sob as he went deeper. "Oh…oh my…"

Your wetness quickly began to coat his his lips and chin, as he continued to feast on your tast.

"Miguel… I… please…"

His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, and he slipped out of you only to wrap his lips around your clit.

Your hips bucked violently into him, and he had to still you with both hands, so he could properly suckle on it.

More wetness spilled from you, fueling Miguel's ego, as it was the best indicator that your body was yearning for him to breed you. He felt it pool in his tongue and eagerly swallowed as much as he could, feeling intoxicated with your taste.

He sucked a bit more fiercely and could tell you were close. So, so close.

Come for me, cariño…

You were mumbling his name with other incoherent words as you reached your peak.

As soon as he felt you tip over the edge, he let go of your clit and plunged his tongue inside, so he could feel your contracting rhythmically around him.

Your whimpers turned into loud grunts as your orgasm spread throughout your body like wildfire. Your legs began to shake and he wrapped his fingers around his own cock, pumping it in unison with each contraction.

His senses were completely flooded and it didn't take long for his balls to tighten and the first spurts of cum to gush from the tip.

As you descended from your bliss, Miguel entered his, leaning back against the backrest and groaning loudly as he rolled his own hips, desperately fucking his hand.

His fangs were fully on display as your wetness dripped from them while also running down his chin and neck.

By the time he was able to come to his senses again, you had slipped from his grasp, kneeling on the floor with your head pressed to his thigh, breathing erratically.

The two of you remained silent, as both struggled to even out your breaths.

His cum had landed on his shirt, seeping through the fabric and dribbling down his toned abdomen.

"Do you want to spend the night…" Miguel finally managed to find his words again, caressing your cheek approvingly.

You were panting heavily and could only nod.

Part 8 (final part) coming soon!

Masterlist

[arolesbianism]

It is my new life purpose to add the most questionable song choices to the Jackie section of my oni playlist. Hey at least one of them is a rabbit universe Jackie song so I have sort of an excuse, but spoilers it's not keep your head up so uhhhhh lol

[osachiyo]

❛ WHAT'CHA READIN'? ❜

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — n/sfw content, teasing, edging, getting caught while reading erotica/smut, full nelson, oral (m recieving), cock warming, kolya's is the longest bc yea, squirting, kind of 4th wall breaking in kolya's etc • here it isss !! i didn't expect so many people to want this but im glad i got to write it. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟏 — 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

his hands flew to her neck, squeezing not too hard — but firm enough for her to get dizzy with pleasure. "lily, you're simply ethereal like this," the man on top of her groaned, hips still pounding away, his pelvis slapping against her thighs with each thrust. she moaned, nails raking down the crown prince's back, all while —

"..her pretty cunt squeezed around him at the heartfelt praise,"

you felt someone whisper from behind your shoulder, making you quickly slam your book closed and whip your head towards that direction — only to see your boyfriend, dazai, standing there with a cheshire-like grin on his pretty face.

"i didn't know you were into historical books, babe!" he said with a teasing tilt in his voice, making your right eye twitch. "r-right... ahem — anyway, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that, osamu," you scowled, clutching said book close to your chest.

"yeah? and you really shouldn't read dirty books at work like this, sweetheart," he tilted your head up to face him, "what if it was kunikida-kun instead of me, hmm?" his voice was playful, and if you knew him, you knew that he was hinting at something — if it's wasn't obvious already by the prominent bulge in his slacks.

"well, aren't you eager?" dazai huffed out a laugh at the way you grinded on his thigh, trying to reach your precious book that was in his hands now. "her back arched like a cat's as the prince pounded away at her — not having an ounce of mercy for the poor maiden," dazai read in a mocking tone — all while flexing his thigh under your cunt, which you were humping for dear life. "please," you pawed at his chest, hips twitching with the need for release.

"please what, baby?" he grinned mischievously, free hand snaking down to land a playful smack on your breasts, before squeezing them. "please let me cum," you whined once more, batting your wet lashes at him in hopes of getting at least a tiny bit of mercy.

"well.." dazai hummed, placing the book to the side, before sitting you fully on his lap and unzipping his slacks — "since you want it so bad, work for it."

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟐 — 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀

you and chuuya were in his office, with him working and you on your phone.

chuuya noticed how unusually quiet you got — and how.. strange you were acting as you scrolled further down on your cellphone.

his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your pupils dilate, your breathing getting uneven and you clenching your thighs.... oh.

a smirk found it's way on his handsome face as realization hit him — you dirty, dirty girl.

"what'cha readin' there, babe?" chuuya raised an eyebrow at the way you flinched when he suddenly spoke up. "um.. just some romance story, you won't like it, chuu," you tried to keep a straight face as your boyfriend got up from his seat, and stalked closer to you.

"oh yeah?" chuuya inquired further, "let me see."

"NO!— i mean — you really won't like it, babe," you smiled nervously and clutched the little device closer to you, which only made chuuya's grin spread further. "riiighhtt."

a gasp tore from your lips when your phone was snatched away from you by the ginger man — he was way too fast and strong for you to fight back, so you just sat there — blinking dumbly as he read the contents of your little "romance story."

"really? a mafia boss x reader? heh," chuuya snickered, voice holding a teasing tilt to it, "ya got a thing for boss, or somethin'?"

"NO! oh god, chuuya — give it back!" you finally recovered from your state of stupor, lunging at chuuya — who caught you in his arms with ease. "easy there, sweetheart. now, how about i give you the real fucking thing instead of this stupid... fanfiction, yeah? bend over f'me, doll."

loud clapping could be heard from outside of chuuya's office — it was so embarrassing if anyone walked by, especially akutagawa, but chuuya didn't seem to care one bit.

your tight little pencil skirt was bunched up, panties pulled hastily to the side as chuuya's narrow hips slammed against your ass, gloved hands gripping your hips so hard that you feared it would leave marks. "you like that, baby? like it when i grind into you like this?"

chuuya slowed his thrusts only to grind his hips in circles — making you see stars as you desperately clawed at the mahogany desk.

a sudden knock on the door sent your mind spiraling from pure pleasure to uneasiness. surely he wouldn't —

"come in, akutagawa."

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑

"don't flip the page, darling, i'm not done yet,"

you flinched at hearing fyodor's smooth, rich voice from behind you — startling you enough to drop the book from your hands, which conveniently landed on your lap. you looked behind to see your husband, who had a smirk on his handsome, pale face — "f-fedya!" you smiled nervously, "you were.. behind me this entire time?"

"why of course, my dear. i was wondering what type of book my beloved wife is into, and i.. certainly didn't expect this."

fyodor's tone was condescending, derogatory even — making your face heat up in embarrassment and shame. "now now," he tilted your chin up to look him in the eye, "there's no need to be ashamed, darling. though i can't deny that i'm a little upset from you going behind my back to read something so sinful," fyodor clicked his tongue, shaking his head gently before narrowing his amethyst eyes at you, "i believe you need to.. make up for this little... mistake of yours. won't you be a good girl and do as i say?"

you gulped before nodding hesitantly, sweat dampening your palms at the sheer nervousness you were feeling.

"good. on your knees."

fyodor held your head down on his cock, the small tuff of black hair tickling your nose —he didn't give you a chance to catch your breath. the feeling of the tight walls of your throat, along with the pretty view of you looking up at him with those teary eyes almost had him going feral. he wanted nothing more than to just pull your head back and face fuck you — but no, he had you cock warming him with your cute little mouth instead. all while he read his own book.

now, you might want to think twice before reading something so filthy behind his back again — unless you wished for an even worse punishment, that is.

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟒 𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

"dove, can i ask you a little question?"

nikolai wrapped his huge arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest and resting his head on your shoulder, waiting for an answer with a grin.

"what is it, kolya?" you tried to turn to face him, but nikolai's grip only got tighter — his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, "who the fuck is 'toji fushiguro' and why were you reading smut about him?"

nikolai felt you stiffen in his arms — a shiver running down your spine at his warm breath hitting your skin, along with the embarrassing fact that your boyfriend had seen what you read on your phone. fuck.

"hmm? no denying?" he teased, freakishly large hands skimming over your torso, then settling all the way up to your breasts. "he's just a.. fictional character, love," you winced at how fucking embarrassing that sounded — which only resulted in nikolai letting out a snicker.

"really? you wound me, sweet pea — am i not good enough for you, that you have to settle for reading smut about fictional men?" he dramatically put a hand over his chest, but you both knew that was not true. "i'll just prove myself to you then, mm?" nikolai grinned, planting a kiss on your clothed shoulder.

you groaned, "n-no! baby, it's just —" "full nelson, huh?" nikolai cut you off — his expression dark as a borderline scary grin settled on his lips. "that was the position right? you could've just told me you wanted to try it! come on, little dove — i'll show you full nelson."

that's how you ended up with your legs against your chest, nikolai's huge arms hooked under your knees to keep you secured against his chest — all while his thick cock plowed into your cunt.

your mouth dropped into an 'o' shape, drool dribbling down your chin to your tits — the mounds bouncing up and down erotically as you were drilled into from below.

"god, just look at you,"nikolai groaned — his arms flexing beneath you as he bit the juncture of your shoulder, the soft skin littered in bruises and bite marks. his heavy balls were clapping against your ass with each rough thrust — your pussy felt like it was splitting in half from the sheer girth of his dick.

"oh yeah, baby — cum f'me, a-agh — cum on this cock," nikolai's voice was slurred, thick and heavy with lust as he encouraged you to soak his length in your juices.

and soak him you did — spraying your arousal all over the floor, his cock and balls were dripping with it — as you went limp in his arms. but he didn't stop, no — he didn't stop until he was cumming deep in your womb, the creamy substance leaking from your cunt from just how much there was.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch @little-miss-chaoss

[minnies-puppydoll]

OT8 SKZ Headcannons:

.• {how they orgasm}•.

OT8 x reader HCS..smutty, kinda fluffy

Warnings: degredation, breeding, mentions of choking/slapping, reader is called a bitch, lots of cum obviously, if i missed any lmk!

first post!! lmk how u feel abt it and send me asks!! :3 enjoy~*

smut below the cut….

Christopher Bahng:

• straight to his core. loud, strangled noises spill from his mouth as he ruts into you like a desperate dog.

• grips onto whatever he can grab on you. especially when his orgasm takes him by suprise, hes gasping and frantically finding your wrist to hold so he can ride it out.

• during, he’ll lean down and send a growlish-moan to your ear, in a “you did this to me.” way😵‍💫

• his cock definetly throbs, if he pulls out, all you can see is it bobbing up and down and shooting out hot cum.

• he’s dazed afterwards, looking at his mess with half-lidded eyes as he smears it with his thumb.

• hits him more forcefully than sensually, like a pent up release. and trust, if you choke or slap him while he’s cumming then he’ll roll his eyes back and cum 10x harder.

• same for if he’s cumming from your strap, then its all broken whines and drooly pillows from there.

• im a firm believer of breeding kink chan. he’ll press down on your tummy so you can’t miss the feeling of his warm cum swelling you up.

“ahn- fucking..feel that? good whores get bred out, right? thats fucking right..made me cum, sweet girl..”

Lee Minho:

• sooooooo long.

• his dancer core makes his orgasms last forever.

• you’ll be done touching him, and a minute later his cock is still throbbing and squirting out little droplets of cum.

• usually has deeper, longer moans throughout. but when it first hits, he lets out a loud, pornographic noise akin to a yell.

•his head lowers and his face is pained and focused. hands trembling slightly at how hard it hits him.

• makes the prettiest faces during it. all pleasure dazed, like hes in a trance, or like he can’t believe how intense his orgasm is.

• def an eye roller. his orgasms hit hard, not in a shaking way, but he’ll throw his head back and grip onto you, so he can hold you still while he works through his orgasm.

•when his eyes arent rolled to the back of his head, they are either closed or heavy lidded and unfocused.

• coming back to this, he prefers holding you still while he cums. hes way too sensitive for any extra motion. if you try to move on top of him, he’ll firmly cling onto your shoulders to keep you still.

• always a bit exsausted afterwards, but still laughs in disbelief at how long it really is.

“ah!…stay still. stay fucking still, please. just let me cum…mmfh- fuck..feels so good.”

Seo Changbin:

• goes quiet when he’s about to cum. like its the only thing he can think about.

• 1/3 of moanracha. one of the only ones that moan (but turns kinda growl-ish at the end🤭)

• he knows his strength, so when he cums he tries to either get off of you or relax his body as much as he can. (thats why he prefers you on top)

• sounds in pain but he’s definetly not. he forgets how good you make him feel sometimes.

• a lip-biter, its how he calms himself down, also a throbber!! his hips never stutter though, he’s very good.

• a slut for his neck being touched, bite or kiss on his neck and he’ll cum so good for you.

• like i said earlier, he wants to hold you close so bad! but, he’s nervous he might crush you. so he trains himself for you, softly fucking into you and holding his trembling body back from just holding you down and pounding you.

• soft binnie boy in his dirty talk, his strength doesn’t match his words as he softens his body and starts to cum inside you.

“soft- soft..g’nna fuck you softly, yeah? sweet girl..making me cum..so good to me.”

Hwang Hyunjin:

• 2/3 of moanracha. he moans unashamed, long, sensual noises that have you dripping.

• treats an orgasm like a piece of art, making sure to cum right on your pretty pussy and admire.

• his thighs tremble and his mouth hangs open, pleasure spreading along his body and glowing in his sides, eventually spilling all out onto you, his stunning muse.

• when he’s fucking you, there is nothing in the world that could break his concentration. its like you both have built this sweet atmosphere in the air, heated colors flash in your mind, trapping you with him.

• and when he cums, that atmosphere shatters into a million pieces, like nothing else in the entire world matters besides you and the intense pleasure you’re making him feel.

• he likes when you cum before him, so he can watch your every reaction to his hard work.

• but he likes it even better when you cum with him, he likes sharing the moment with you, so he might even make you hold it.🤭

“…fuck- hold it. i’m almost there, don’t fucking cum yet..fuck! i love you! i love you..so much.”

Han Jisung:

• 3/3 of moanracha. his moans are loud and uncontrollable.

• BIGGEST EYE ROLLER. ive seen him do that shit too many times in videos, im so serious he does that when he cums.

• he also cannot control that tongue of his, shits always out of his mouth while drool drips from his bottom lip.

• he just loves feeling good!! he’ll take anything you give him as long as he gets to cum.

• his poor little cock gets so red. drips a massive amount of precum just to squirt out such a pathetic little load.

• loves teasing his cock after he cums. he’ll rub himself on whatever he can, twitching at the little sparks of harsh pleasure that it grants him.

• says “fuck me” even if he’s topping, such a freaky ass bitch😭

• and if you’re pegging or fingering him, you’ll be suprised at how slutty that little mouth of his is, drooling and babbling out such meaningless little praises and begs.

• grips your wrist and thrusts frantically into you with loud, pathetic whines. his eyes are a bit teary when he places his hand on your tummy, begging you to cum because of how overstimulated he’s getting.

“ah..fuck- fuck me, fuck me harder..shit. ah, please cum- ah..soon. please? s’too much.. i know, im pathetic..m’sorry.”

Lee Felix:

• so sensual. like his orgasm is fire, burning his body so slowly.

• his hips may be frantic, but his voice is shuddery as he whispers pretty words and praises into your ears.

• his face heats up so much its unreal. he cant help but blush at how good you make him feel!!

• that deep voice in your ear😵‍💫 makes u wanna be silent so you can hear him better.

• small load, nothing too much, but it tastes so sweet. you beg him to cum on your face or in your mouth, he feels a little bad but he can’t hold it when he sees you stick your tongue out while he jerks his cock off.

• likes recieving pain when he cums, like scratching his thighs or biting down on his shoulders. it embarrasses him but also makes him drool🫶🏽

• okay fr guys..i think felix can squirt. HEAR ME OUT.

• rub the palm of your hand over his tip rapidly, or agressively rub his slit and he’s writhing and arching under you. gripping your wrist and begging you to slow down before he hides his face and squirts all over his tummy.

• he’s such a pleaser, that he’s unable to focus soley on his pleasure. so if he accidentally cums before you, he’ll pull out and mutter little apologies as he rubs your clit, ruining his own orgasm while shoving his face in your neck.

“..ah! fuck! sorry…m’sorry..hah- so sorry, angel..please cum- please cum too?”

Kim Seungmin:

• when he's subbing, he's a desperate humper. wether its your shoe, or your hand, or even your belongings hes frantically fucking into it, trying to cum hard.

• but the way he cums is still the same, no matter what role he's playing.

• it looks earth shattering. he twitches and shakes, and his eyes are tightly shut (when they arent rolled back to his brain)

• he tries to have you lock eyes with him when he cums, but it always ends up with him breaking it almost immediately.

• prefers to cum on your lower back or tummy, but he's a bit of a clean freak so this preference doesn't help him at all😭

• very dazed and tender after. he'll look at you with loving eyes and caress your cheek, kinda like the sweet version of chan's "you did this to me" attitude.

• he used to be very shy about the way he acted when he came, so he would hold it in, but once you tried to forced one out of him anyway. poor boy was begging you to "wait" and "stop," but his body betrayed him and twitched into your hand.

"mm'ah! wait! stopstop' please- ill cum! please."

(or..dom ver bc im a slut 😈)

"oh? fine..make me cum then, bitch..c'mon- oh fuck..that's a good girl. only thing you're good for, right slut?”

Yang Jeongin:

• doesn’t hit him quite as hard as the others, now that doesn’t mean its not enjoyable for him.

• it just means that his buildup is stronger than his orgasm, it comes in blissful waves rather than the others.

• when it hits, his jaw drops and his eyes close, but soon after 4 seconds of that, hes giggling about it and using it to give you more pleasure.

• big ass load. he cums so much its not funny. he likes cumming in you too, so good luck with that!

• whispers long, teasing groans in your ear to feel you squeeze around him.

•he enjoys fucking more than the actual climax, so he’ll usually hold his orgasm off until you’re begging him to cum.

• then, he’ll tilt his head and glide his cock along your clit with the same pace, like he never stopped fucking you. laughing at your cries and pleads.

“hm..aw, poor baby..want my cum? need my cum inside you? hm..ill think about it.”

[highvern]

endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings:  cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“What’s the difference between a proton and an electron again?”

“Shoot me in the fucking head,” Wonwoo whispers harshly.

He’s a seat over, a laptop covered in gaming stickers and a coffee cup containing a lethal amount of caffeine occupying the space atop the narrow lecture desk. It’s a feign to productivity. His screen is split between thesis notes and a countdown to a new video game release that unfortunately hits 0 in the middle of lecture. 

Dr. Wagner’s intro to chemistry  course isn’t difficult – freshman aside – which is why you and Wonwoo agreed to be her teaching assistants. Easy money and a way to get in her good graces come grad school application season. You’ve TA’ed the same course since sophomore year for different professors but it’s all the same; the metaphorical killing field before hopeful freshmen become cannon fodder in the real trial of will: O Chem. 

“Me first,” you whisper back. 

Wonwoo slumps in his chair, opening the shared drive keeping track of problem areas to touch on in lab hours, and typing “check for basic brain activity” under the class To-Do list. 

Fair enough. If they can’t understand the basics this far into the semester then you two are in for a world of hurt for the next practical. You're in for a world of hurt come next study hall when half of them will complain about failing their quiz this morning despite having the answers spoon fed straight from the notes.

[09:48] You:  be nice

[09:48] wonwoo: if they were smarter, id be nicer

[09:48] You: maybe they’re scared stupid

It wouldn’t be too far off. One time a freshman burst into tears while asking Wonwoo to check their practice work during lab hours. Wonwoo swears he didn’t say anything and the kid looked on the verge of a mental breakdown if the wind blew the wrong way.

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

[09:48] You: the fact ur trying to kill them with your mind

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

[09:49] wonwoo: just maim or seriously injure so they dont come to class and say dumb shit

Dr. Wagner fields more questions in front of the powerpoint. More ‘dumb shit’ Wonwoo rolls his eyes at with such obvious disgust even you feel chastised. Luckily, no one can see his face from the front row besides you.

[09:49] You: you wonder why they like me more

[09:50] wonwoo: i know why they like you more

[09:50] You: oh?

Stifling an eye roll of your own you throw a glance his way as the next message comes through,

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

“Alright, Y/N and Wonwoo will be passing out the study guide for the next exam. We still have a few weeks so don’t worry about the back half but try and review the modules we’ve done so far and bring questions for them during study hours,” Dr. Wagner prattles off.

The gigantic stack of printouts is split in half for you and Wonwoo to disperse around the massive lecture hall. Over one hundred students sit in this lecture; the unfortunate ones who were forced to take a 9 AM course three days a week. Half look like their brain is melting out of their ears, other’s clearly haven’t paid attention at all, and a few are sound asleep. It’s Friday after all. They probably didn’t get back from their Thirsty Thursday night out until a few hours ago.

You wouldn’t even be here if Wonwoo wasn’t a built in insurance policy.

Dr. Wagner collects her things and heads towards the front exit with a cheery, “Have a good weekend!”

“There's a party at Sigma tonight,” Wonwoo shares as you both pack your own bags. The next class is already shuffling through the doors to claim their seats.

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

Shouldering your bag, you head towards the door where the next class is already trickling in to find their seats. “Don’t you have a tournament tomorrow?”

“I only have to be at the party for like an hour. I can come and walk you home.”

“Fine,” you nod. “But bring your laptop. I think Chan fucked up the last set of results and we need to fix them.”

It’s not unusual for Wonwoo to spend his Friday nights with you; or another night for that matter. He lives in a dingy frat house on the edge of campus with twenty other guys. It’s an act of mercy. A long standing tradition from the week before freshman year when you two were the only chemistry majors in your orientation group and that turned into a clumsy hook up at an upperclassman’s party. You didn’t know he’d be a virgin and he didn’t know your high school boyfriend dumped you less than twenty four hours before you left for college (but not before you lost your own virginity in the backseat of his car). 

It’d been…not good. 

Wonwoo was awkward and you were unsure. But he was sweet under the bravado; walked you home that night, pretended he wasn’t interested in the fact your roommate never moved in, leaving the suite empty. But he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign nonchalance when you invited him upstairs. Turns out sex was a lot better the second time around, in a bed that didn’t belong to an unknown upperclassman who could’ve burst in any minute. 

Wonwoo isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too busy piecing together the ten year plan concocted since junior year of highschool to even think about such frilly ideas. There’s barely enough time as it is; you’ve got work, a full class schedule, TAing, and all the random clubs you’ve wiggled your way into to pad your resume. 

And he’s busy too. Navigating a sports scholarship and one of the hardest majors left barely enough time for him to wipe his own ass, let alone date. Then came research hours and TAing and the fact volleyball, apparently, wasn’t just a one semester sport, there were scrimmages, workouts, and tournaments out of season. 

It’s been over three years of your arrangement which works best because you don’t have to spend precious brain power deciphering if some random guy you went out with once is playing hard to get or just straight up not interested. You have Wonwoo. He’s simple. 

So what you have now, friends. Who hook up. And work together. Who also happens to be applying for the same PhD program for next year. Not together but at the same time.

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror. 

It’s still too early to submit any materials but it’s been highlighted in bold red in your calendar since two years ago. Everything is ready to go the second it opens—except Dr. Wagner’s recommendation. It’s the sole reason you (and Wonwoo) agreed to be her TAs this semester; she’s one of the program’s most notorious alum, her words as good as gold in securing a spot. 

Someone hacks a cough and shatters the eerie silence of the library. The backtrack of sparse typing and the custodian shuffling around to have been the only company throughout your shift. No one would choose to rot at any of the weathered study tables late on a Friday night so early in the semester. 

With the abundance of free time, you fixed Chan’s mistakes in his set of trials easily, no thanks to Wonwoo who still hasn’t shown up. It’s good though. Your stoichiometry homework is submitted three days before the deadline and the mountain of emails clogging your inbox from hopeless undergrads is in the single digits. Half the labs from last week are graded for Dr. Wagner’s approval, the other half can wait until Sunday night. A long weekend of sleep awaits once the clock hits eleven and you’re free to run home.

Wonwoo stumbless in five minutes before the clock runs out. His duffle for tomorrow is slung over his shoulder and he’s already dressed for bed, rumpled sweats and a hat he definitely wore to the party with high hopes to cut out early. 

“You’re late,” you acknowledge, cramming your belongings back into your bag. He’s close enough to get a whiff of. “And you’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise but it isn’t an argument worth having. All you want to do is get home and pass out.

He shoulders you bag, presenting his hand when you insist you can carry it on your own. The dry warm of his palm against your cold is pleasant enough you don’t argue as you tug him towards the automatic doors.

“Have a goodnight, Mr. Lee,” you call towards the security desk.

The guard, old enough to be your grandfather, calls back, “You too, sweetheart.”

Out in the balmy night, you tug Wonwoo down the street in the direction of your apartment. Two blocks and then a right turn leaving you outside the dowdy building with hallways that constantly reek of weed and new paint smell.

A pack of freshmen girls heading somewhere, marked by their matching uniform of jeans and black tops of various coverage, crowd the sidewalk straight ahead. Someone is crying, one is on the phone, and a few others stand dumbly waiting for their next movie like zombies — all incredibly wasted. You barrel through them without acknowledgement. A few drunken bitter ‘bitch’s hit your back but you ignore them to focus on the man struggling to push through the crowd without accidentally shoulder checking any of them.

On the other side, you ask, “Have fun at the party?”

“Some pledge puked on Jihoon’s stuff,” he huffs, nose scrunching.

“May he rest in peace.”

Wonwoo sways from side to side from the weight of your bag but also whatever radioactive mix was served at the party. The stairs provide an extra challenge since the elevator has been broken for weeks but thankfully it’s a short trip to the second floor.

He presents your belongings with routine ease once the front door of your apartment looms ahead. Music from the floor above shakes the walls; hopefully you can make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow morning.

There isn’t much space inside the four walls you call home – the ‘kitchen’ which is a single counter with a stove and fridge you’re barely around to use, fifteen feet away your bed in the corner, bordered by your desk at the foot cramped with a spray of errant papers and books you’ve been too busy to deal with. The monitor doubles as a TV and finally a tiny loveseat with a broken leg replaced by a stack of hard covers completes the room.

You beeline for the bathroom to wash away the filth of a long day and Wonwoo, keeping on trend, follows into the cramped space.

“Can I help you?” you ask, shirt tossed into the bin in the corner.

Wonwoo’s shirt goes the same and then his pants after a brief struggle. “You know I sleep better when I shower.” 

True.

“And I doubt you're gonna let me in your bed if I’m dirty.”

Even truer.

The water is still cold when you step in but the man glued to your back fights the worst of the chill away. Goosebumps prickle along your skin but have nothing to do with the vent that points directly into the stall (whoever designed the apartments must have had a sick sense of humor) and everything to do with Wonwoo’s mouth tracing the curve of your shoulder.

Forcing the heat blooming between your legs down to a simmer, you focus on washing up and getting into bed before it rolls into a boil and you do something stupid that’ll only leave you and Wonwoo struggling for balance. 

Shower sex is a dangerous sport. Shower sex with Wonwoo has left you both with bruises. Drunken shower sex with Wonwoo will get you both killed.

Soft hums tickle your neck as you clean up. There isn’t enough room for two people to stand in the spray at once so you take turns hogging the steamy water and braving the frigid cold until the last bits of soap swirl the drain.

Even when drying off you stay in each other’s orbit until the need for clothes and sleep drive you both out of the bathroom and back into the equally cramped space of your room.

It’s not until you’re laying on the mattress, darkness snug on all sides, that you feel Wonwoo roll atop you with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo hums into your stomach, fingers crawling up your bare legs.

“That,” you inhale at the nip of his teeth on the curve of your thigh, “doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer but gives you plenty of time to brush him off while bruising your skin. You don’t. Instead you sink deeper into the blankets and let him push your shirt up until you're bare once more.

The fuzziness of alcohol lingers in his veins – just enough that he smiles into the strip of skin above your panties as you sigh and arch under the delicious weight of wandering hands and mouth at your nipple.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh and he’s up and kissing you with eager clumsiness.

A familiar prod at your core through his boxers crashes bubbles through your veins. You felt it in the bathroom but now is when you finally get to indulge with subtle grinds Wonwoo meets in his own search for friction. 

“Don’t you need to be up—ugh—early tomorrow?”

He kisses you slowly, tongue dragging along your bottom lip until your mouth opens under his. It burns you from the inside out. Mindlessly you shift your legs to frame his hips better but Wonwoo kisses deeper and all you can think about is giving in to whatever scheme he’s working up to have you both naked and panting.

He leans back a fraction to speak, giving in when you chase his lips before ducking to nip at your ear and mumbling a response. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it when you snooze twenty alarms and your team hunts me down because I smothered their star player with a pillow,” you snort but heat under a squeeze of his fingers at your sides.

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

A harsh suck at your jaw has your stomach tight. heavy and thick until need drips down your spine to coil in your gut and the emptiness between your thighs becomes unignorable. He hides pleased groans in the curve of your neck until you force a hand under the band of his underwear. Eyes opening, you watch the muscles of his back tense and flex as he rocks against you, fucking your fist greedily.

It doesn’t last long. Wonwoo gets antsy under the taunting pressure of your thumb and descends back down your body with burning lips. “Take your shirt off.”

“It’s cold,” you complain but do as he asks. 

He traces your figure clad in nothing but your glasses and a soiled pair of panties; damp at the crotch from his attention and Wonwoo slips a finger under the hem to tease you that inch closure to depravity.

Wonwoo laves against the hickey on the inside of your thigh from a week ago, it’s yellowed and perfectly shaped like his mouth. It’s tender under his attention, even the gentle tracing on his nose forcing you to wince in discomfort. 

He coos, kissing it before skating back to the hem of your panties, lips vibrating against your skin. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Why he brings it up now is a mystery. Or the fact he brings it up at all. Life happens. You’ve blown him off more than once for a late night in the library; no hard feelings.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as he tugs the last scrap of fabric off your body and pushes your knees up to display you like a meal.

Spreading you apart, he lands a wet kiss at your entrance before teasing with the heat of his tongue. 

In a beg for sanity you twist a tight grip in his hair; a tangled mess from his drunk endeavors. Wonwoo pushes harder, drowns in your taste with enthusiasm as you moan and sigh. 

“F-fuck.”

He won’t ask if it’s good. He knows it is. Nearly four years of hook ups attunes him to your pleasure, a well rehearsed routine that has you both ache in the best way. 

You lose yourself in shaking breaths, feet planted to drive up into his mouth for more. He sucks your clit and nearly gets his head crushed by your thighs. It doesn’t take much and he knows it. 

You chant ‘gonna cum’ in choked groans that almost die at the edge of your teeth but Wonwoo hears and takes it as permission to pull out the stops, hand at your thing with a harsh grip and fingers sinking home.

He’s memorized all the signs of your want; the wrecked echo of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you a clear tell. He flattens his tongue, holding steady as grind straight into mindless bliss. Spit pools and drips and slips down onto the sheets. Wonwoo hums praise, unintelligible but you vaguely know it’s something that’d make you blush you could hear it over the pounding in your ears.

Back arching, your vision flares white at the edges and when Wonwoo realizes what's happening he makes it last until your fist ball up and you’re floating.

Wonwoo backs down as you twitch through the tail end, sloppy kisses to your clit that could knock into another fit if he isn’t careful. But even as you tremble the only thing you want is the weight of his cock in your mouth, or inside you. You aren’t picky as long as you get to feel him cum too.

You finally manage to pry Wonwoo from between your legs with an ankle to his ribs. You’re not done with him despite the fatigue hanging around your shoulders like dead weight. He angles over top of you for a kiss that tastes too much like pussy for your liking but it’s hot knowing he’s covered in you so you push until his shoulders meet the sheets and you can claim his lap.

His dick strains through his underwear, preening when you rock back into the heat. His nostrils flare when you grab for it, stiff enough to sink onto easily. 

“Oh god,” he groans, head digging back into the pillows to watch you like a goddess.

His fingers web across the tops of your thighs, a harsh grip keeping you flat as he grinds up into the wet heat of your pussy. You whimper and sigh for him; all the sounds he loves to hear. You squeeze your chest, taut nipples framed between the slants of your fingers to entice him until he reaches around and knocks you forward for the sole purpose of taking one in his mouth.

Your eyes roll back, jaw locked open, drowning in the stretch and the bite of his mouth and the hands squeezing your ass so hard it hurts. Wonwoo groans, throaty and desperate. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum in you. Holy shit.”

He gets you on your back. Too absorbed in his own end, he’s dead weight with his tongue between your lips and harsh thrusts that take him right to the edge. It gives that grit against your clit that means you’ll come too, soaked in cum and spit and sweat.

You wish he’d flip you on your front and fuck you with a hand between you shoulder blades and the other tangled in your hair. That’s the kind of fuck that’d leave you satisfied the entire weekend he’s busy but he’s running out of steam just doing this, picking up speed in his thrust, the clap of bodies filling the room.

Chanting his name like a broken record, ‘Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo’ breathy but loud enough your neighbors will leave another passive aggressive note on your door come morning, all you can think about is his cum. On you, in you. A sick part wants him to pull out and cum on your face – he hasn’t, not in a long time because priorities and responsibilities and you're usually lucky to have even five minutes alone before someone needs either of you. But you want it. God do you want it.

“Cum on my face,” you whimper. There’s drool on your lips and sweat in your hairline. Even if he doesn't, you'll need another shower anyway.

A strangled noise escapes from between his teeth at your neck. Then he’s driving forward so hard you burn; painfully so, mouth locked in a silent choke. Your orgasm rips through your insides, jagged at the edges where Wonwoo fucks himself into your guts. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling away and replacing the grip of your pussy with a tight fist as he straddles your chest. 

The taste of cock floods your tongue, heady and intoxicating. You get one, two drags against the stiff head and then he’s cumming, dripping his spend over your lips, then your cheek, then your glasses because he’s a sick freak. Even in the dim light from the window he twitches at the sight. You open your mouth and replace his hold, moaning as more comes to the surface. You swallow down as far as he’ll go which isn’t much in this position but it’s the thought that counts.

Wonwoo grinds to halt with an occasional kick of his hips that leaves you choking – rigid limbs locking in place until he melts with sticky satisfaction. 

He’s up and off, your glasses in hand for a thorough cleaning, not even bothering to flick on any of the lights but you hear the sink running in the bathroom before he comes padding back.

“God,” you whimper in disgust. “That’s so gross.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Wonwoo snorts, soft passes of a damp cloth on your skin focused on getting you clean enough to sleep.

“Because it’s hot but you aim for shit.”

Wonwoo tosses the rag somewhere, flopping down and pulling you close as possible with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time I’ll aim for your hair.”

“Bitch.”

The sound of music from upstairs pulses through your head as you drift off, Wonwoo asleep on your chest, fingers laced together on the sheets beside your indecipherably intertwined bodies.

Your week is divided into a simple pattern. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you wake bright and early to attend Dr. Wagner’s chem lecture and then stay on campus attending every other class you could find to fill the gap between your evening shift at the library. Tuesdays and Thursdays are void of responsibility until your afternoon lab with the freshman near tears while learning basic titration for four hours, followed by office hours where said freshman finally come to actually cry about their grades. Those are the nights you, Chan, Wonwoo and a handful of other lab techs work on research that carries the same threat of waterworks. 

It’s there Dr. Wagner pulls you and Wonwoo aside.

“I know you both are applying to Dr. Collins lab for your PhD studies,” she starts. 

Her office reflects the same disarray as her personality; warm and lived in. Papers and exams are organized in chaos, thick stacks lining her desk waiting for you and Wonwoo to enter them into the online grade book. Books, some leather, some paperback, some the glossy cover of a textbook with cracked spines and yellowing pages are crammed into the bookshelves lining the walls until they threaten to collapse from the weight. It smells like coffee, plants, and the candle she always has burning. It’s a cozy hovel overlooking the rear courtyard of the science building that resembles the sterility of a hospital. 

Wonwoo occupies the other barrel chair with worn upholstery. You’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks, too busy with volunteering and working and classes while his own responsibilities keep him so exhausted it’s truly a miracle he’s even here. Dark stains ring his eyes beneath his glasses and he looks paler than usual. You’ll ask about it tonight when he comes over to work on your most recent stoichiometry project (which will be forgotten in favor of passing out during a movie while you play with his hair if history is anything to go by).

“I don’t think I’ve ever met two students who belong more in his lab,” she continues.

You try not to preen, but academic validation is a hell of a drug to caffeine addicted undergrads. Wonwoo perks up too. Three and a half years of barely being people for this moment and it’s finally in reach.

“However,” Dr. Wagner clasps her hands atop the dark wooden desk. “I’m writing only one recommendation this semester. It might seem unfair but I want to commit to the student that deserves it the most since my schedule doesn’t allow me much free time.”

It’s like being underwater. You hear her words but nothing registers, blinking rapidly in case this is a hallucination from falling asleep in the lab again.

“I know it might not be the news you hoped for but I know senior year is a lot, especially for students as involved as you all, and I thought this could alleviate some of the stress. You two are the only students I’m considering. So please, keep up the incredible work and we can talk again at the end of the semester when I have a more holistic evaluation of your progress.”

She stands to leave, snagging her purse and blowing out the candle with finality before abandoning the shit storm in your lap for whatever else she has to do on a Thursday night. Probably retell the events of the last five minutes to other professors in the department, laughing at the way you’ve turned purple from holding your breath.

“Have a good night you two! See you tomorrow!”

The office, once warm, feels hollow. You feel hollow. 

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo hasn’t moved either, glued to his seat as he stares at Dr. Wagner’s now vacant chair with his mouth wide in shock.

“Did that just happen?” you scoff in disbelief. “Is she serious?”

Wonwoo collapses over his knees with his hands scrubbing at his face like he also might be hallucinating. “I needed that recommendation.”

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

“Did Changkyun say anything like this happened last year when she wrote one for him?”

“No, all three people who asked her got one.”

“Oh, so it’s just us she hates. Great!” you throw your hands up, sinking deeper in the chair. Maybe it’ll swallow you whole and the entire ordeal will cease to exist.

“She’s probably just trying to get in our heads so we don’t slack off this semester.”

“Have we ever slacked off any semester? I’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. You’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. We’re those people.”

Since starting college, since that one night during orientation where you and Wonwoo became a ‘we’. Not in the relationship sense, but in the way two lines merge. Same path, same goals, same classes, same PhD program prospects. There was plenty you two did separately but more you did together. Neither competing, but working together. 

But now that’s over.

Because only one of you can get into Dr. Collins lab, only one of you can get the recommendation, and only one of you can have what you both worked tirelessly for over the past three years.

“Listen—” you stand up and scrub at your own face. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“We? Only one of us can get her recommendation. What’s there to figure out?”

Your face goes hot. He’s right. “Well, I need that recommendation.”

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

Wonwoo stays in her office, flinching as you slam the door and flee.

The issue with fighting with Wonwoo is that as mad as both of you are, there are a million responsibilities you share that require close proximity.

Presently, it’s grading the last batch of exams. Seventy eight packets. And because Dr. Wagner doesn’t believe in convenience, it all has to be graded by the hand of two TAs running on nothing but caffeine and spite.

Which means it’s past midnight and the couch has a permanent impression of Wonwoo’s ass while you both silently fume and scratch through wrong answers with a heavy hand in red ink.

The weather reflects the atmosphere; pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The power has flickered in and out since the rain started but you're both too stubborn to call it quits – if there is nothing to keep you occupied then you might rip his throat out.

Wonwoo doesn’t even ask if you want more coffee before he snags your empty mug and moves to the kitchenette. You don’t look up when he sets it back down, and only grab it and take the first sip of perfectly steaming hot sweetness when he flops back on the couch without another word. 

Then the power goes out again, and doesn’t come back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Using the flashlight on your phone, you search the drawers of your desk for candles. There nowhere to be found amongst the stacks of unopened sticky notes and tangled cords. 

Wonwoo shuffles behind you, papers landing on the coffee table completely abandoned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“I have them in here somewhere,” you bite, another handful of chargers and a stapled you’ve never used and other things you didn’t even realize you own fill the drawer. You move to the second. “There’s only a few tests left.”

“We can do them tomorrow. It can wait.”

“No,” you spit like a curse.

Whatever Wonwoo was planning to say dies on his lips. “Fine.” 

His shirt lands over your head, you rip it off only to find him half naked in the dark, huddling under one of the throw blankets you keep on the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?” 

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

“Well,” he draws like a pouty kid. “I don’t feel like sharing the bed with you.”

In a way it’s safer to argue about something trivial like this versus the entire reason you’ve iced each other out since that day in her office. Because at least like this, you won’t lose him. It’s stupid and petty but at least you’re speaking to each other; breaking through that wall of silence that’s been steadily growing more and more unnavigable as the inevitable draws nearer.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

It’s difficult to navigate in the dark. Your knees end up a victim to the edge of the coffee table and you trip over the edge of the rug, but you find the couch. Reaching down, you find his chest, then his shoulder. And once you’re sufficiently oriented you sit on him.

“Ow,” Wonwoo grunts as you flop down, elbow in his gut and his chin hitting your forehead. “What are you doing?”

You wedge in closer, slipping between his body and the cushions, bracing to kick him off by force if needed. “Sleeping.”

“Here?” he asks. Too aware of your plan, he turns as well, grabbing the back of the couch overhead to stay put.

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

“And we’re both too big to sleep here together. Take the bed.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

“No. N.O. I believe you’re familiar with the word,” you spit.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you keep talking then neither of us will sleep.”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep anyway. You move too much to be comfortable like this.”

He’s right of course. Your hips already ache but if you move then he’ll find some way to pull you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him. 

The muscles corded around his pec twitch under your mouth as he flinches. “What the hell was that for?” 

You do it again.

“Stop.”

“Or what?” you ask, muffled in his skin as you move to leave another bite.

Wonwoo also does the mature thing and pins your wrists in one hand, maneuvering until you're sandwiched between the couch with his chest flat to your back.

“I can’t breathe like this,” you muffle into the cushions.

“Oh, how tragic.” You feel his words tickle the back of your neck rather than hear them. 

Wonwoo releases your wrists pinned to your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his shirt from some stupid frat fundraiser you’d been coerced into attending, flat to your belly with soothing circles. His calf hooks over your own to tangle your bodies together. He kisses the back of your neck, a simple brush of his lips that lingers.

It’s easier to feel everything in the dark. Your annoyance and frustration forged over the past weeks melts away and all that’s left is the need to have Wonwoo close. Just like this. Where there are no deadlines, or responsibilities. Where you both can drown in each others’ presence and everything else is washed away in the heavy drops pounding the windows outside.

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

The next rumble of thunder is loud enough to send you both in the air. Unfortunately, Wonwoo drags you backwards off the couch and to the floor. You land relatively unscathed but he knocks his elbow into the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

“Aw, tell the doctor where it hurts,” you coo, prodding his side.

He snatches your hand and pins it to his chest but not before lacing his fingers through your own. The gentle rise of and fall of breathing and the thud of his heart reverberates down your arm and straight into your own chest where something frozen softens. “Has anyone told you you’re annoying when you’re tired?”

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

Lighting turns everything white, a quick flash highlighting the room. There and gone and leaving you more disoriented than before. Rolling over, you hook a thigh over his lap which he welcomes, tugging you closer and absorbing the proximity like second nature. You’re a glutton for warmth –  Wonwoo’s warmth specifically – even in his sweater and his sweat shorts and his shirt, you still want more of him.

“We can’t sleep like this.”

You don’t want to move – laying like this, in the dark, nose dug into his chest as you twisting your fingers in his, squeezing and glowing pathetically when he squeezes back – all you want is to drown in him a little longer. Until you're forced to come up for breath.

But the sore spot between you two is still raw like a fresh bruise.

“Then sleep in the bed,” his lips drags over your knuckles as he speaks.

“No. You sleep in the bed, you’re too tall to sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo jumps up from his place on the floor, grabbing your hands once again before dragging you around the coffee table towards the opposite side of the room. It’s ridiculously childish, especially in the dark where he bounces off the desk and the rug roughens the back of your legs.

He shimmies you around a corner and a cloud of laughter puffs between your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in the bed, and you’re sleeping in the bed with me.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep next to you?”

“Then I’ll cry. Like that time we watched Steel Magnolias.”

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

Deflating like a balloon, you stand. Wonwoo keeps his hands on you the entire time, guiding you down to the mattress and covering your body with his own just in case of an escape. He bunkers down in the safety of your neck, dragging your hands to his hair, mimicking the motions he craves until you take up the action and gently comb through the tangles.

A part of you wants to cry. Preemptively mourn the end of this – whatever this is. Late nights with Wonwoo, whispering in the dark about clueless underclassmen and annoying professors. Taking turns scrolling through adoptable cats at the local rescue. Cooing over them, rolling your eyes when Wonwoo finds Pixel still listed as available for adoption, a sign to him that he’s meant to have her except he lives in a frat house. Or the nights neither of you can sleep and take a trip to the local diner and tuck yourselves away in a corner booth to watch drunk people cling to consciousness over waffles and hash browns. 

There will be no more of that. Not by the time winter break comes. One of you is getting the gold ticket and the other will be up in the air with the hundreds of other people competing for the same handful of slots. And if one of you doesn't get in? 

“Was that so hard?” he whispers into your collar.

When you don’t answer, he looks up at. In the cast of lighting coming through the window he’s the same Wonwoo. The one you’ve been best friends with for years now. The one who is practically glued to your side whenever possible. 

The one who you’ll have to say goodbye to.

He meets your kiss lazily. Like he still thinks you have all the time in the world.

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning. 

The room glows from the orange light of the first minutes of sunrise. Sometime in the night you rolled to your side and Wonwoo pressed tight to your back. He’s awake, drawing shapes on your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Morning.” 

You hum and roll over to burrow in his chest, the crown of your head digging into his neck and away from the sun. “Morning.”

The warmth of his hands trace the curve of your back, pulling you closer; hiding his own discontent with such an early break in the tentative truce that only seems to exist in the late hours of night and earliest minutes of dawn. Days of sleep deprivation with nothing but sterile lighting in the lab leaves you both needy and vulnerable. So he hugs you tighter and sighs when you do the same.

He’s hard against your thigh. Clearly a result of biology more than need because he’s snoring against your hairline. Flashes of dreams rush forward – him beneath you, on top of you, behind you. It’s been weeks since you two last fucked. When you called him an idiot and he called you stubborn and next thing you were on the table with your legs spread for Wonwoo’s hand in a clumsy bump and grind while arguing about which one of you fucked up the biosensor callibration through gritted teeth and needy whimpers.

You’re wet. With his thigh pressed between your own the fact becomes more evident as the urge to curl into it nags.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin beneath your mouth, you kiss and suck with lax intent until Wonwoo tips his chin up and gives a silent green light.

A heavy hand drags down his front, nails scratching bluntly through the fabric until it can slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and the curve of his cock sits pretty in your palm. Commando for convenience and comfort. More the latter because there’s no shot in hell he’s been getting laid lately.

His breath is sticky in his throat, vibrating beneath your teeth from thin pants as you work him through a loose fist. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

Slouching down, your head rests on his stomach, sweatpants bunched around his thighs. The first lick sends his hips up in search of more and you eagerly supply the soft suction of your mouth; lips catching around the flared head. A hand on the back of your skull keeps your hair from interfering as he plumps against your tongue. 

Eagerness fails to penetrate this moment slowed down by the greater need to drag this out. To savor every second because who knows when you’ll both stop being petty enough to just enjoy one another’s presence again.

“Might cum—fuck— don’t stop,” he grunts.

With the sun filling the room even more you’re running out of time, the warmth growing to leave sweat at the small of your back. He pushes harder into the curve of your throat and you let him, gagging wet with a lewd mix of spit and pre-cum that has you both moaning at the choked sound. Jaw slack, Wonwoo fucks your mouth with slow ruts; stomach tightening and the hand in your hair fisting tight enough you moan.

“Shit, babe—c-cumming,” he whines with a pathetic groan you’d make fun of him for later but all you can think about is the thick taste of cum and if there’s enough time for some attention between your own legs before life becomes unignorable. Not enough time for a real fuck but Wonwoo has a few tricks up his sleeve that promise satisfaction.

You bounce back down next to him and Wonwoo pounces, rolling on top of you, thing between your spread legs. He doesn’t shy away from your tongue against his teeth, dips a thumb beneath your chin and slips his tongue right along with it, sucks your lips until the swell, backing off only to bunch your shirt up. Lazy drags of his mouth on yours – not the ‘I need you’ kisses after a late night but the ‘I miss you’ ones after weeks of passive aggressive silence.

He licks down your front, goosebumps blooming from the draft as he sucks a nipple until you arch and twist a hand in his hair. You give a lax stretch and sigh while his hand slips beneath the edge of your panties.

Taking the morning for what it is, you fall into the motions until the blare of the alarm clock signals the beginning of the end.

You push away and swipe blindly at the night stand to make it stop but Wonwoo has other plans. 

He pins your hips down, tongue flat to the crotch of your underwear with a pant. “Ignore it.”

“What?” You look at him and find tired eyes watching back from over the edge of your wrinkled shirt. His hair is a mess, stuck to the side of his head from sleep and your eager hands and all you want to do is comb the tangles out while he pulls your strings like a puppet master.

But you can’t.

“We’ve got class,” you gasp through a hot kiss on your clit.

A groggy groan of, “skip,” vibrates on your skin.

Fingers curling in the sheets, you grasp for disagreement only to find a moan as he pulls your hips closer and works a finger where you need it most.

“We can’t.”

“We can,” Wonwoo grunts, focusing on peppering greedy kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. “We’ve been early every time this semester.”

The hand not curling in your guts runs down the back of your calf, bending until it hooks over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Wonu,” you whine over the crude sounds of his mouth. You want to. God, do you want to. But you open your eyes again and they land on the stack of exams on your desk. Ungraded. Because Wonwoo said you could do them this morning. And now he wants you to skip class despite how important it is. 

You close your legs only for Wonwoo to take it as a challenge, pinning your hips in place and celebrating his perceived victory with a throaty moan as he rocks against the bed.

“Stop.”

He pulls back, mouth wet and brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The alarm on your phone pings again. Swiftly silenced this time as you roll out from beneath him and land beside the mattress on unsteady feet. “We can’t skip. We have to give exams back.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argues, flopping down into the warmth you left vacant.

The room is too bright, a clear sign your morning routine is behind. “You think now is the time to start slacking off?”

“It’s not slacking off.” Wonwoo snags his glasses. He looks more annoyed with them. “It’s a break. You clearly need one.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it. I’m not arguing with you about stupid shit.”

“And what's stupid shit? The job we signed up for? With the professor who controls our futures?”

Wonwoo fixes his pants and rolls out of bed. On the opposite side. As far away from you as possible. “Whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

You slam the bathroom door shut with finality. When you come back out, any trace of Wonwoo is long gone.

There aren’t many people in class. A benefit of Halloweekend is the partying starts Wednesday and doesn’t stop until the following week. Even with last night's rain plenty of students are battling hangovers which leaves a third of the usual lecture attendance to witness you and Wonwoo go head to head while Dr. Wagner sits at home with a mysterious illness she announced in an email three minutes after nine AM.

The few that are there snag their papers, lips curled in disgust at the plethora of red ink spilled on white pages. Their own faults for not paying attention during lecture but maybe the scarlet gashes were a little dramatic. Wonwoo’s jaw is tight, pointedly ignoring you except to hand exams over that someone is waiting for with dread in their eyes. 

You could’ve skipped. It wouldn’t even count as skipping because class is canceled and there’s no award for hauling ass at the crack of dawn when your advisor isn’t even here to see it. You could be tucked away in your apartment with him under your skin; firmly in the place between dreams and waking where you liked him best, nothing but warm skin and rough hands with his lips on your hairline and your head burrowed in his chest. 

There are too many witnesses to just drop the act and wrap your arms around him from behind until he gives in. Apologize for the stupid shit he rightfully called you out on. But as your courage grows with each student’s exit, Wonwoo makes to leave before you can make use of it. 

Barely an hour of fighting and it already feels like an eternity.

“Hey,” you call.

He freezes by one of the desks near the back of the room, like he’s shocked you’re even there in the first place. But he doesn’t turn around; just tilts his head so you know he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“Sorry about this morning. I-I think the stress is getting to me.”

And the fact that I can’t be mad at anyone besides the universe for this incredibly shitty situation. And I miss you. Even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” you fidget with the strap of your bag; a million pounds heavier even without the weight of ungraded tests that Wonwoo snatched before you could divide the remaining work.

He turns around, eying you with an exasperated look. “What else should I say? You called me a slack off and implied I don’t do my job.”

“I didn’t,” you argue but it’s salt in the wound because—

“You did.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. I’ll finish grading the exams over the weekend.”

And then you're alone.

You’re alone in the study room you both usually occupy to work on the Nanochemistry project due at the end of term. The shared document has updates, the blink of his cursor mocking your from wherever he hunkered down. Away from you. The temptation to type ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again disappears once he logs out barely a minute after you logged on.

You’re alone at the circulation desk of the library through your shift, head whipping around to every squeak and cough only to find someone who isn’t Wonwoo. There’s an email from him, to Dr. Wagner with you CC’ed, about class averages and exam questions that should be thrown out.

You walk home alone. Other students in various states of dress and intoxication crowd the sidewalks, a few you recognize but they feel a million miles away.

Alone in your apartment, the two mugs from last night clean in the sink.

The good part of being alone is when you start crying, no one is there to see.

It’s near midnight and the chill of the breeze whipping down the street bites at your exposed skin. Already the should-be-condemned frat house pulses with life, the promise of a long night ahead thrumming through the symphony of drunk screams and music.

It’s not unusual for you to attend frat parties. Wonwoo’s favor guarantees free booze and a perch at the top of the staircase where underclassmen are barred from entering. But you’ll settle for watching drunk underclassman stumbling over the front lawn from one of the couches on the front porch (which are so broken in, no one sinks into the cushions – they just fall straight down until the worn springs catch them) because the inside of the house is too hot, and too crowded, and far too loud. 

A hail Mary apology is the only thing on your mind. Yesterday had been the nastiest spat in recent history between you two; notwithstanding sophomore year when Jeonghan asked you for tutoring and Wonwoo insisted on helping. “Helping” meant cutting off every question Jeonghan dared ask with a series of snorts and huffs until you left and refused to talk to him for a week.

He’d apologized in the most Wonwoo fashion – completing your Thermodynamics assignments for the rest of the semester and before going down on you until you threatened to kick him in the head through sensitive sobs.

Wonwoo is here – somewhere. Shuffling up the past, past the line of eager party goers looking for a way in, you scan the front porch, he’s not in his usual waiting spot to whisk you upstairs where the older members hang out with better drinks and better music. Not that he would be. He doesn’t even know you considered coming to this.

Instead, poor Chan, dressed in yellow and black stripes, mans the door with pilot Jihoon by his side.

“Jihoon,” you greet, before looking at the younger man. “Speed bump.”

Chan mumbles something under his breath but lays on the ground regardless. When Wonwoo went through the same hazing you only got a few chances to enjoy the ridiculousness before he dragged you upstairs and shut you up himself.

“Can you not torment the kids?” Jihoon grunts.

“I could. But, where’s the fun in that?” 

“Your boyfriend is inside. If you see Jun, tell him it’s his turn to watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Stepping over the underclassman still laying on the ground, you head inside and straight for the packed kitchen to get a drink. There’s barely any space between the hoard of bodies, forcing you to shuffle forward everytime there's a gap in the crowd; but it’s more like swimming against a rip tide. 

It’s difficult to see with nothing but a few strobe lights and some strings of Christmas lights to clear the dark. One glance up towards the upper landing of the staircase is all it takes to find him right next to Mingyu. Matching costume, two bean poles standing out from the crowd of shorter men. Mingyu makes a brief nod in your direction but before you can see Wonwoo turn you’re off into the kitchen.

It’s an even tighter fit in here. A pledge pours drinks from a cooler, for a brief second you’re tempted to indulge. The last time you did, freshman year, you ended up crying in Wonwoo’s room mid-hookup. You scan the slim pickings and settle on an unopened beer. The shots you took while getting ready are already catching up.

Forced between anxious isolation and drinking, a few of your friends come up and briefly make conversation. You feign interest, eying over their heads for a familiar mop of dark hair without success.

A few guys stop to compliment your costume. They give themselves away in glazed heavily lidded stares, single minded focus on your legs. They ask what your major is, boast their status as pledges to your disinterested grimace, and move on when you finally put them out of their misery and fib about your “boyfriend” being “president or something” but “I don’t pay attention to those things,” and they all disappear significantly paler than when they first appeared.

You bite the bullet of your pride and turn to leave, only to find Wonwoo barely an inch away.

His eyes burn over your figure, the short toga covering just enough for you to avoid public indecency. Good. It’s the entire reason you wore this stupid costume in the first place. He’s a horny loser for nerdy shit and this is the best thing you could’ve worn other than one of those video game character costumes forcing your boobs in your throat and leaving you at serious risk for public indecency.

It’s not the first time you’ve wrapped yourself in barely enough fabric to constitute an outfit for the sake of his forgiveness and it probably won’t be the last.

Wonwoo pins you to the counter with his hips, hands bracketing your figure on either side. The green hat with an ‘L’ is lopsided on his head but at least he didn’t wear the fake mustache. “So, what is your costume?” he hums into the space just below your ear with a kiss.

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

“And if I get it right?” he asks, lips at your ear.

Heart pound, you ditch the beer and reach for his hips with purpose. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Think of it as my apology for being a huge bitch yesterday.” 

He sighs into your neck, arms tight around your waist in a loose semblance of a hug. It’s a farce. Your ass meets the counter with minor effort and Wonwoo claims the space between your legs before you can pretend to object.

He still hasn’t kissed you.

You want more than kisses. You want to feel him, all of him. Want to drag him to the living room serving as a makeshift dance floor and sink into the heat of his body pressed flat against your own for everyone to see. You want to pull him into that closet off the main hall, familiar from that hot night of freshman year when a drunk make out turned into a timid fingering and eventually Wonwoo handing over his first time on a silver platter. Or even run back to your apartment, pluck through the leftover Halloween candy you bought on discount and watch whatever horror movie has become his recent obsession. You just want him.

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

Pressed this close on the sticky counter, his body is the only thing protecting what little of your dignity is left. Even then, there's enough of the slippery warmth of alcohol to tempt you into rutting against him right here for those stupid pledges to see. “Mingyu is an idiot.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “The rubber chicken gave it away.”

You shake it at eye level. “Behold, man.”

“Lame,” his kissing gets bold down the shaft of your neck, teeth scraping your collarbone.

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

He doesn’t resist you when you nuzzle along the bare parts of his neck, a tease of soft kissing usually reserved for quiet moments tucked away in your apartment. Even in the chaos of the party, body heat turning the air uncomfortably warm, you crave more of his closeness. 

His hands feel nice on your legs. None of the timid gentleness of years prior when he’d touch you like it’d burn if he wanted it too much; trailing higher and higher but never under the short hem of the bedsheet turned dress. His fingers flex into the muscle at the outside of your thigh, hook behind your knees and drag you to the edge of the counter. 

You're sweating through your own skin when he kisses you. 

The need in your gut blooms at full force. Your mouth loosens, welcoming his tongue and teeth and whatever else he’s generous enough to give while you tug at the loose fabric around his hips to force more close proximity; the zipper of his pants is hot against your core and if you fucked him right here it wouldn’t look that different than the PG-13 make out happening right now. 

“Wanna show me your room?” You blink like some moony eyed freshman, glassy, pupils blown from vivid images of all the possibilities in the solitude upstairs. Wonwoo is fine with the game of whatever your apology entails even if it means you throw cheesy lines like that.

He ushers you off the counter, flat to your back as he pushes through the crowd with you ahead. Even in a drunken haze people part out of his way because of the mastery of resting bitch face only he seems to have despite the complaint putty that lies behind it. A private smile splits your lips. He can’t be that mad. Not with how he pulls you closer, in the protective way he so often does in the buzz of a single minded crowd with more alcohol in their veins than blood. 

Mingyu is standing on the landing. Girls in scraps of fabric eye him up and down, even in his stupid costume with the mustache but he ignores them in favor of pouting straight into a red cup.

“Why is your boyfriend moping?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Wonwoo focuses on sucking another bruise on your neck like no one's watching. 

You’re loose enough not to care about Mingyu’s annoyance as Wonwoo ushers you by. “Cheer up buttercup, I’m sure there’s a Peach here into charity fucks!” 

It’s meant to be encouraging, but Mingyu looks like he’s torn between strangling you and throwing himself over the banister.

Maybe you did lie about being Wonwoo’s girlfriend, but he is president and his room is the biggest and furthest away from chaos. Up on the top floor where the music isn’t as loud and the only people on this floor are other members and their guests for the night.

Wonwoo pushes you inside, kicking the door shut loud enough you wince before crowding you against the wood. You throw his hat away somewhere into the darkness, hand twisted in his hair as he kisses you. Sloppy and gross until he rocks into the softness of your stomach, gasoline on the flame.

“Turn around.”

He barely gives you enough space to do so, pressing you flat once again, cheek squished to the door and a rough pull at your waist. 

“If you’re thinking about touching my asshole, don’t. I have shit to do tomorrow,” you warn. 

On the other side of the door you hear footsteps but they pass by without stopping.

“Noted, but not what I’m going for,” he jokes. 

Your skirt flips up and a draft against the damp crotch of your panties sends a tremor straight through your core. “Share with the class.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

“I can call you some other things,” you grit, pushing back into the heat of his covered cock. “They aren’t as nice though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.” 

He’s a little bit of a freak. Sometimes he enjoys fucking you in nothing but your underwear and others he wants you in everything but. Maybe because of how this entire thing started; when you wouldn’t even take your bra off and he survived on the barest flash of nipple.

The flimsy soiled fabric barely passes your knees before he’s on you again, easily tempted by the arch of your spine. You hum content as he presses a finger into your cunt, then two. His other hand forces the neckline of your dress down and lo-and-behold your lack of bra delights like you knew it would.

Whatever bright idea that fluttered in Wonwoo’s brain is forgotten as he spins you back around for an eyeful of naked skin; a mouthful of your chest and your leg hooked around his hip for a pathetic dry hump into the heel of his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan with extra emphasis and a caved stomach because there’s teeth and he makes it hurt. “Kiss me.”

Another rut into your thigh and his teeth are back at your bottom lip. It’s not exactly what you anticipated when you showed up tonight but there are far worse places than having a doorknob in your back while Wonwoo leaves a hickey below your ear; a perfectly good bed ten feet away but neither of you can be bothered to move much more than forcing Wonwoo’s pants down enough his cock leaks in your grip, head nestled at your entrance.

You surprise him by sinking to your knees. Head tipped back against the door, you tilt your mouth open to welcome him on your tongue. Wonwoo stares down at you; tits out, hand between your legs as you suck his cock in quick motions until he takes over and fucks into the curve of your throat. 

“Holy s-shit,” he hisses and you flatten your tongue to help him along. It feels good; seeing him reduced to so little just from the wet suck of your mouth on him. 

A choked gag forces Wonwoo back into his body, hips curving away so you can swallow air before leaving a sloppy kiss on the tip. Seizing him in a tight grip, you use the spit to jerk him off until he cringes with another pathetic moan. 

Someone giggles in the hallway, close enough you both hear. They’re far enough away you can still whisper to Wonwoo. “Remember that time we fucked in here last year?” 

“When you almost got us killed?”

Last year, at the same party, when you showed up in a skin tight Shego costume, Wonwoo pulled you to the only available room: Seungcheol’s. It’d been hot. Fucking when you aren’t supposed to, having Seungcheol pound at the door while Wonwoo came down your throat (no condoms and no hope to clean up).

“Do it again.”

His hand creeps into a loose collar around the base of your throat. You keep rubbing between your legs, working up a slick slide until your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

“Really?” There’s no need for muffling the noise when it's his room and the only people at risk of hearing anything have done far worse. He pulls you to your feet, forces your cheek against the door and slides right behind you. Like he was made for you.

“Choke me,” you gasp before digging into the sick part of your brain that likes seeing him strung out, extra breathy just to see his eyes go wide. “Sir.”

Your skin sticks to the door, shamefully squeezed as he drags his cock through the mess of your pussy. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

“Because what?” you goad. “Gonna punish me?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Show up wearing this,” he grits, tugging at the white fabric bunched around your waist, using the hand on your throat to squeeze your cheeks tight with authority you drool for.  “Asking to be choked and now you probably want me to spank you and call you a good girl.”

You grunt through the raw thrust at your gut, sending your head back from sheer enthusiasm. “N–not my fault you fuck me so good.” 

Wonwoo almost can’t control himself, hearing nothing but praise fall from your mouth as he fucks you limp against the door. “God.”

Someone screams, “Leave room for Jesus!” from the other side of the door and you almost rip it open to kill them if Wonwoo wasn’t dragging you to the bed. 

He folds you onto your front, both standing at the foot of the bed. A deep roll of his hips and you’re filled completely. 

“O-oh, fuck me,” you moan, uncaring if the idiot outside the door is still listening. Wonwoo has a hell of a hand and puts it to use against the curve of your ass. The coil in your gut pulls taunt as he delivers one after another.

He fucks deeper, a the hand not burn against your bottom between your shoulders. “You look so good— ah —taking my cock like this.” His voice waivers with the same stunted rhythm of his hips. 

“W-want,” you choke on spit, drooling into the comforter. “Wanna taste you.”

The animalist need to suck both your flavors off his cock nearly sends you into a fit but Wonwoo’s there, hooking his hand back around the front of your neck with a subtle squeeze. You want the stupid dress off, you want Wonwoo’s clothes off, you want to fuck him where there’s no one around to catcall in the hallway like twelve year old boys. Want. Want. Want.

What you get is enough pressure from his fingers that your mind blanks. Wonwoo gets a tight enough squeeze on his cock that he’s forced to a grinding halt. 

Then his rhythm goes deeper, harder. Course curls against the resistance of your ass until you almost collapse against the edge of the bed. His cock hits that spot like it was made for your body. “Touch yourself.”

You comply without further command. You’re wet, soaked, arousal smeared down your thighs from Wonwoo’s treatment. Your fingers bump against his length as you match the pace of his strokes. “Fuck, Wonwoo — hmmm.” 

“Tell me how it feels,” he gasps like it’s his first breath in hours.

“Wet, so wet,” you croon, arching harder, joints locking. “Gonna cum. Oh my god.”

He reaches low, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and pulling it to his mouth for a taste. His tongue slides between your digits, liquid slick with a soft suction your crave on your clit. 

“Beg for it.” Wonwoo bites your shoulder hard enough you cry. 

Stuffing your hand back between your legs, you play with your clit clumsily. Until pink crowds the edge of your vision and it hurts. “Please, please! I need—Want it. Wanna come for you. Please, sir.”

Wonwoo strains to hear your pleas over the clap of bodies. He’s worked you near the middle of the bed, practically laying on top of you as he fucks in quick succession. 

“Harder, fuck me,” you demand. “Yes, yes, y–yes!”

If you were on top you’d fall straight off, jerking tightly under Wonwoo’s weight, turning your face to greet his tongue between your teeth and mewling sensitivity. He doesn’t show mercy, continuing to fuck you through the worst of it.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, head throbbing. Wonwoo forces you back on your knees and you fight through sore muscles and sensitivity to preen under the weight behind his hips. 

“Can I come in you?” he asks in a shivery breath.

You nod with closed eyes, tugging the hand around your throat to your lips and sucking his fingers like it’s a cock. He finishes with a choked breath, flooding your insides with sticky warmth you’ve never gotten used to in all the months you’ve fucked without condoms. 

His breath fans against the nape of your neck, another swivel of his hips from the sensitivity. Your walls squeeze as Wonwoo pulls away. 

You roll onto your back with a bounce, Wonwoo jostling you when he joins. Shoulder to shoulder, you stare up at the ceiling while catching your breath. “Do you think you’ll pop a boner when your students call you a sir next year?”

Wonwoo heaves a long breath, amusement in his voice. “I come inside you and that's the first thing you think of?”

Immediately you regret the joke. Since Dr. Wagner’s announcement weeks ago neither of you had broached on the topic of what happens after graduation. Mostly from fear. But also because it’s a long discussion you’re not exactly sure what you want out of.

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

The bed shifts beneath your knees as you crowd over Wonwoo, laying with his arms behind him to keep from sinking flat. The tired lines of his face look deeper in the lamp light. He’s nothing more than a big softie that wants to cuddle half naked in his bed while you play with his hair until sleep finds its place.

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

“Wow, just like old times,” you snort. “Should I start crying? Then it’ll be just like freshman year all over.”

Wonwoo laughs, his hand snatching yours and lacing your fingers together. “You wore a bra and bunny ears freshman year so if you’re gonna whip that out too – by all means.”

“God, we were so lame,” you announce matter of factly. Crying in lingerie and animal ears in one of the supply closets downstairs all because—

“Don’t rope me into that, miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’.” Wonwoo rolls on top of you, hoping to silence whatever argument bubbling in response with a teasing press of his lips. You're still sticky with sweat and spit and cum, nipples and pussy out and the thought of his dick, limp against your thigh, makes you sensitive all over.

“That’s former miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’,” you trail off into his mouth. “And you’re one to talk. Remember the time you cried about how happy you were that we were friends.”

He bites your lip in retaliation. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have the video from Mingyu.”

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

You might consider staying the night if he keeps tracing his nose along the arch of your collarbone. But a shrill giggle and some pornographic moans ring through the walls of the neighboring room. Not the side Seungkwan occupies. Hoshi’s. And it’s only the start.

“We can’t sleep here.”

Wonwoo collapses, tugging you with him. “I can’t ditch again, I’m on pledge duty.”

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

“Okay, technically I’m on pledge duty.”

He wouldn’t stay here if he wasn’t required. Wonwoo hates party nights, especially Halloween. Too many variables requiring all hands on deck; too many needy people demanding his presence for some issue that could’ve been handled if they used their brain to think farther than the tip of their nose. Rarely, if ever, does he sleep in his own bed when you have a perfectly good one tucked away in a private apartment without thirty other men tripping over each other. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping with that.” On cue, another whimper, clearly a man’s, breaks through the tentative silence. Are they fuck against the shared wall?

Wonwoo sighs, scrubbing his face before moving for his phone. “I’ll send one of the kids to walk you.”

“Wow, a pledge escort. How thoughtful,” you sneer.

He huffs again, unwilling to start a fight that’ll leave neither of you satisfied. “Text me when you get home.”

You don’t.

There is an unspoken habit between you and Wonwoo that Sunday mornings are spent at the only reasonably priced coffee shop just near your apartment. A charming hole in the wall, with hanging shelves displaying layers of tchotchkes, paintings lining whatever free space between them, and wobbly tables with equally unbalanced chairs. It’s always packed because the coffee is decent and they have outlets. After last night, you hope he’s too exhausted to even think about showing up.

Mugs click against dark lacquered tables, the dull murmur of conversation churns over the music swelling softly through the speakers. The smell of pastries and espresso wake you enough to slide into a vacant table in the corner and set to work. 

Or you would’ve if someone didn’t sit down first.

“Oh.”

Wonwoo already has a mug and a little brown bag as he looks up at where you stand dumbly.

“I can just go…sit somewhere else…” You turn to leave, except there are no other tables. Couples and groups claim every single seat except the one across from Wonwoo.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m mad at you.”

He unpacks his laptop, shaking his head. “You’re not mad at me.”

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize. 

“You’re a bad liar.”

Neither of you are good at lying. Even worse at fighting. Incapable of committing to real anger when it takes all your energy to stand up straight and not fall asleep in a pile of ungraded papers and half finished assignments. Besides, you're only pouting because he passed up a night at your place to clean up pledge vomit. 

You can’t tame the annoyed grin cracking your face.  “Fine, I’m not that mad at you. Buy my forgiveness in the form of coffee.”

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

“I can only hope,” you sigh, arms cradling your head against the hard wood of the table while he joins the queue at the register.

Wonwoo orders your drink and a cheesy pastry the size of your head, the smell of greasy carbs first thing in the morning softening the ice in your veins. He knows your weaknesses too well. 

“Is this penance?” 

“Something like that.” He tears the crispiest corner off and pops it into his mouth.

“Did you look at the study guide for Calc yet?”

Two hours later you approach the counter for a second round of coffee and snag one of the jammy tarts Wonwoo likes but rarely buys for himself. Whatever chaffs between you two melts under the constant stream of note checking; Wonwoo’s hand on your knee under the table helps too. 

“If I look at this anymore, I’ll run into traffic.”

“We’ve got the Nano project that needs some work,” you suggest. 

He stretches wide, a sliver of skin visible between the hem of his sweater and the band of sweat pants. “I’ve got practice in an hour. We can do it tonight when I’m done.”

You try not to stare and instead return to focusing on the screen of your laptop burning your retinas.“I’m tutoring Seungkwan.”

“After?”

“He’s gonna be a bitch and the last thing I wanna do is look at more school stuff.”

“Then no school stuff,” he decrees with finality. “I’ll bring mushroom pad thai from that place on Market.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

You hum a dismissal but watch him through your lashes. He looks good – washed in late afternoon glow, hair a mess with glasses and a sweater that hangs off his shoulders. It all screams ‘drag me to bed and nap the rest of the day’ which is trouble for you because you still want to be mad at him if only to see how fair he’s willing to go for your forgiveness.

“We can watch Yellowjackets,” he barters, packing his bag.

Another group eyes your table with hope to claim it the second it’s available. Sadly, your ass is firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. With or without Wonwoo.

“You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”

“I cannot sleep in that house,” he deadpans. “Please take mercy.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for a place to sleep. Even after I wore that stupid Halloween costume?”

He pauses, eyes glazing like it’s a distant memory and not less than twenty four hours ago. “You looked hot.”

“You made that pretty clear.”

“Anyway, I’ll come over after practice. You can bitch about Seungkwan until you pass out.”

“Fine, but if there is no pad thai then don’t come.”

“Whatever my woman demands,” he snorts, dropping a kiss to your lips before turning towards the door.

Two hours and another coffee later, Seungkwan occupies Wonwoo’s abandoned chair. There’s no reason for him to be taking an intro chem class as a Creative Writing major other than the fact he’s a bit of a masochist. He’s not half bad at it and doesn’t really need any tutoring but you get paid for showing up even if it’s complete silence as you pick your nails until he needs something.

You’re marking through his latest attempt when he finally speaks up, “You're dating Wonwoo, right?”

Red pen scratches through the edge of the paper. “What?”

“You and Wonwoo.”

What is the absolute configuration of the two carbon atoms in this compound? More red ink.

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes with exasperation, like you’re on the outs of some obvious joke. “Dating.”

If an alkene has 24 hydrogen atoms, how many carbon atoms does it contain? Another X.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

When 10 g of 90% pure lime stone is heated completely, the volume (in litres) of is liberated at STP is… Wrong, again. Which makes no sense because Seungkwan is good at this level. He’s fucking with you on purpose.

“Huh,” he comments, grabbing the worksheet back from your claws.

“‘Huh’ what?”

“I heard a rumor he had a girlfriend last night, that’s all.”

It's not the first time someone assumed there's more between you and Wonwoo then there actually is, your fib last night clearly fanned the flames of even more speculation. But neither of you date; not enough time, willpower, or patience to entertain someone around packed schedules. If you and Wonwoo didn’t have the same life within the chemistry department then you’d never see each other. It’s convenient as it can possibly be. 

Maybe at one point there was. Summer of sophomore year when he studied abroad in Spain and the usual substance of correspondence morphed from memes and jokes to something softer; I miss you’s and you’d like it here’s. Late night phone calls that lasted hours, refusing to hang up first until one of you fell asleep and the other finally canceled the call. 

But the opportunity to tip over the edge came and went without coalescing into whatever was on the other side. 

Seungkwan can pretend it’s an innocent suggestion but he stares you down until you crack with your own curiosity. “Who told you that?”

“Some pledges said they accidentally hit on his girlfriend. I don't even think he knows another girl beside you. Plus you were at the party last night.”

Stupid fuckers, you mutter under your breath. “We’re not dating.”

“But you guys are always together.”

“We work together. You and Vernon are always together, are you two fucking?”

“My room is next to his and it doesn’t sound like work to me.”

“How does me failing you sound?” you spit. 

Seungkwan doesn't so much as flinch at the threat but returns to the practice sheet with a smile nonetheless. 

Typically, fall break is spent hidden away in a pile of blankets with you and Wonwoo alternating movie choices throughout the weekend. Dead Poets Society (him), When Harry Met Sally (you), Over the Garden Wall (him), Fantastic Mr Fox (you), and so on and so on.

This year, you have a strong feeling Dr. Wagner’s favorite pastime is seeing her TAs squirm. It’s the only explanation for the unique brand of humiliation she subjects you and Wonwoo to. Tonight, Friday and technically your first night off for the long weekend, she decides to engage in a new sort of torture. A fancy dinner that neither of you could ever hope to afford, and even as her treat, you still eye the menu prices nervously. 

But Dr. Collins sits across the table, in the flesh, so you pull out the skills you learned in the ridiculous theater class you took freshman year to “diversify” your transcript and smile through the anxiety. 

Wonwoo does a little better; in a button up you’ve only seen him wear a handful of times when his usual wardrobe is sweatshirts and free shirts from campus events, he looks more comfortable than you feel.

“Jill, tells me you both work on Epitranscriptomic mapping in her lab?” Dr. Collins asks after another sip of his drink. Two whiskeys at dinner. 

It’s not an official interview. Not anything close to it, according to your advisor. Nothing is set in stone, even if Dr. Collins laughs at Wonwoo’s awkward jokes and nods enthusiastically to your stories about working in the library (he also worked in the library in undergrad, but used it to nap more than actually work). But it feels like a step in the right direction. 

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo and you nod in tandem.

Dr. Wagner’s research focuses on how different RNA modifications vary across various cell types and states. It’s high level stuff that no one but Wonwoo understands when you rant about the broken Cellraft machine. And his complaints about NovaSec’s constant crashes that leave him without work fall on deaf ears except when they’re directed at you. 

Half the reason you two started speaking during orientation is because the overly enthusiastic intern asked what people were looking forward to the most during school. You and Wonwoo were the only ones who seemed to think she meant school-related and not where to buy a fake ID. Apparently, the best person to get a fake ID from was a junior in Dr. Wagner’s lab that year. Go figure.

“I’ve seen you two listed down the line as co-authors,” he nods. 

The waiter brings dessert, spiced toffee cakes and ice cream. You’re starving but the knot in your stomach from when you sat down is even tighter and all you can do is pick at the plate.

“Well, Y/N does a lot of the troubleshooting for the RNA degradation issues,” Wonwoo shares. 

Your face heats at the unexpected but not undeserved compliment. Dr. Wagner’s work isn’t cheap and the thought of wasting valuable money, money that could line the pocket of an extra set of hands, forced you to run a tight ship. The other researchers in her lab could say what they wanted behind your back but Dr. Wagner nods with fondness and you try not to preen.

“We’d be a mess if it wasn’t for her,” Dr. Wagner agrees. “The lab techs should write her a card.”

Not wanting to leave him out, you shoot a look to your left where Wonwoo pulls at the napkin in his lap. “Wonwoo is the one that made sure the parameters made sense for the last publication.”

“Also true.” Dr. Wagner smiles. “I told you, Harry, they’re my best students. Excel a mile past my TAs last year. They work together exceptionally well. If I could keep them both for next year, I would.” She says it with finality. There might very well be an opportunity to stay here and continue in her lab, even if your ambition has outgrown the place you’ve called home for four years.

The table is cleared, your plate full of mashed cake and melted ice cream with not a single bite missing. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally; physically from the three all nighters you’ve pulled this week. There’d be an earful from Wonwoo about the dangers of sleep deprivation (hypocrite) but he looks like he’s seen a ghost tonight and won’t sleep himself.

Dr. Collins glances at his watch with a muffled yawn, “My, my! Look at the time! My apologies I didn't mean to keep us all out so late. I know you two probably have far more interesting things to be doing than spending the evening with a couple old timers like us.” He winks at Dr. Wagner, who rolls her eyes and hands the check back to the waiter who can’t be more than nineteen. “It looks like I’ll have some tough decisions to make in the upcoming weeks. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Hands shakes all around, and an awkward shuffle at the door and Dr. Collins and Dr. Wagner disappear into the night, leaving you and Wonwoo alone on the long walk back to campus.

You don’t beeline to your apartment for a debrief. Or even to ignore the obvious awkwardness cracking between. A bench to the side of the campus green is where you find yourselves, across from the fountain that upholds the tradition of drunken seniors taking a dip during finals when they’ve given up. 

You want to drown in it.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper. “What happens if one of us doesn't get in?”

“I–I don’t know.” He peers down at you with what you think is grief and the white noise that follows his quiet admission chokes painfully. There’s no plan B for something like this

If you got in, then Wonwoo did too. An unfounded assumption that wherever you went he’d be there too, based on almost four years of something between you. Too much to be friendship but too scared to call it something else. Something more. All the stereotypical college firsts had been with him or witnessed by him, you assumed grad school would be the same.

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw. 

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either. 

“You think I’d hate you?” 

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.” 

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.” 

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment. 

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete. 

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored. 

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow. 

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist. 

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap. 

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry? 

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?” 

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.” 

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt. 

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too. 

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit.  You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?” 

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.” 

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more. 

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?” 

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly. 

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss. 

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical. 

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts. 

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it.  “That sucks.” 

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad’s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460

[strawberrymatchawhore]

i like freaks

"i'm a freak, is you a freak? cause i like freaks, boo. he ate my coochie, first night, yeah, i made him chew"

sitting on ur favs face!!

from faye- i know this isnt what i usually write, but i wanted to start incorporating other fandoms into my account . hopefully you all stay and enjoy it!! pls keep suggesting and asking :))

warning/s- DUBCON? drunk freakyness, dry humping, face sitting, fingering, aggressive fav!, one night stand, implied sex at the end, multiple rounds, overstimulation, fav wants u so bad he basically creamed his pants from eating you out

:(( switchy fav!, etc…

you always thought of yourself as a girl with higher standards, a girl that was too good for “one night stands”. however after countless days of non stop studying and a mix of work, your friends decided to go on a nonnegotiable girls night out.

why not go clubbing ?

after downing a multitude of drinks and dancing to your hearts content, it was no surprise when your dick deprived ass brought home the finest man in the building.

perhaps it started off as innocent kissing at the club, but the both of you sat here at this moment. sloppily making out on your fluffy couch.

“mmm” you groaned into his mouth, grinding your wet clothed cunt deeper onto his hard on. the both of you only in your underwear, suddenly he grabbed harshly onto your hips and dug his long slender fingers into the fat of your hips. surely to leave marks in the coming morning.

“f-fuck stop.” he whimpered, his soft plump lips slightly open. light breaths leaving his mouth.

“whats wrong? youre that sensitive?” you teased, desperately trying to gain the friction you lost again. he didnt budge though. he played with the band of your panties and with a quick pull he ripped them and lightly tossed you off the couch.

“i want you to sit on my face”

you stood above his laid out body, he smirked at your frame. clearly you were nervous by the way you were clenching your thighs together. never in your long years of life had a man asked you to do that.

what if you were too heavy?

what if you suffocated him with your thighs?

“yeah im not so sure abou- eek!!” you shrieked when his strong arms pulled you to his face. forcing you to straddle over him. you could feel his breath on your pussy, you clenched over nothing. and before you could even let out another protest he drove straight in.

his tongue licked up and down your sopping pussy, his hands massaged your ass and you immediately went to grab at his soft hair.

“oh.. oh my god.” you let out a satisfied moan and ground your pussy onto to his tongue. he continued to lap at it, he teased you by licking slowly up and down your folds and sucking on your swollen clit. practically drinking all the juice that leaked out of your pussy.

you were so fucking wet for him, and he loved how you tasted. he just had to feel you on the inside as well. he used his free hand and reached under your ass, he gave it a harsh smack before using the pads of his two fingers to slowly sink them into your cunt.

matching the rhythm of his tongue he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. your moans and whimpers filled the room, your eyes were clenched shut at the intense pleasure and pure bliss you were feeling.

“please please please” he moaned into you, lapping faster and fucking his fingers into you at the same pace as well.

“baby you taste so good, are you gonna cum for me?”

“you gonna be a good girl? yeahh keep fucking grinding on my face i dont wanna breathe.. put all your weight on me slut c’mon” he stopped for a second before he started to devour you again.

you basically went nonverbal at the way he was treating you, this man was sent by the gods. how was he good looking and at the same time know how to treat a woman?

“im gonna cum.. fuck fuck fuck! feels so good keep going please. yes yes yes…” you cooed as your stomach tightened, you uncontrollably squeezed your thighs around his head as you came all over his tongue.

he didn’t stop there though, you didnt even realize that he came with you. he was so loud when eating you out. he used his big beefy biceps to hold your hips down when you pushed on the couch arms to try to get yourself out of his grip.

“oh! i think im gonna cum again, please stop.. please. oh shit!” you screamed when you squirted in his mouth, soaking his chin.. his neck.. probably the couch cushions as well.

he finally let you go and you laid down next to him, leg over his. your face rested on his chest, he looked down at you and laughed at you practically almost being passed out.

“dont fall asleep on me now.” he grabbed you and made you straddle his bulge.

“m’ tired, your mouth killed me.” you groaned hugging him.

“whats wrong? youre that sensitive?” he fired back, and you gasped jokingly hitting his chest. you felt his cock twitch and you smirked. grinding your cunny over his leaky tip, he let out a low moan and grabbed your hair to kiss you.

“let me stay the night yeah?”

[hypnagogics]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[fireinmoonshot]

surprise | tyler owens x reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader Summary: You drive to Oklahoma to surprise Tyler before a chase after he's had a stressful week. Warnings: Tyler calls reader baby. Other than that, I think there's nothing! Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I randomly had this idea after I rewatched Twisters tonight and thought it was so cute so I had to write it. I am also working on some requests you guys have sent in, just have been having a crazy few days at work so I haven't had the chance to finish and post them – but they're coming! For now, enjoy this! 💗

The second that Tyler stops the truck, it’s practically swarmed by tens of fans, all wanting an autograph and a selfie and the chance to see the famous Tornado Wranglers in person. The gas station is packed to the brim full of actual professional storm chasers and amateurs. You would consider yourself to be neither.

From your spot across the parking lot, you watch as Tyler exits the car, yelling his famous catchphrase: “If you feel it…”, the fans finishing it off with “chase it!” You’re leant up against the door of your own car, a smile on your face as you see the smile on Tyler’s. He almost always takes the time to greet everyone that’s come out to see them, signing photos and taking selfies. His stash of pre-signed photos that he keeps in his car always coming in handy.

Dating the one and only Tyler Owens, famous storm chaser, was not something for the weak. You’d known that from the very start. To anyone else, it’d probably bother them, having to wait for him to interact with all of the fans before he could make his way over to you. But for you? You love being able to watch him, see the genuine joy on his face at meeting the people who had changed his life by watching their once little Youtube videos. You wish you got to do it more often.

You know that when Tyler does eventually spot you, it’ll be worth all the waiting, worth the hours of solo driving you’d done alone to get here. Nearly seven hours of driving from your home in Arkansas just to surprise your boyfriend. He’d been stressed lately with the lack of storms across Oklahoma and the neighbouring states along Tornado Alley, wondering what was going to happen to their channel if they couldn’t produce content for it.

But the sight of everyone still taking selfies with the Wranglers proves to you that Tyler has nothing to worry about at all. You can see the Tornado Wranglers have a loyal fanbase. 

You watch for a few more minutes, stifling a yawn as you do. You’d stopped after five hours of driving last night and spent the night at a motel which had given you one of the worst nights sleep of your life, and done the last few hours in the morning before arriving at the gas station that Tyler had told you they were headed to today. It was the closest gas station to where storms were predicted today, hence the crowd. 

You’re about to start wandering over towards Tyler and the other Wranglers, still making their way through the crowd of fans, when you can see Tyler spot you. He’s just finished taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman when he stops in his tracks, eyes settling on you. Even from your distance, you can tell he’s spotted you.

It’s confirmed when he mutters a quick word to the people around him before he takes off at a run, straight towards you. He kicks up dust and dirt as he runs, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. You can’t keep the smile off your face as he gets closer.

“Baby, what the hell!?” He yells, not long before he reaches you. 

Tyler almost knocks the wind out of you as he barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around in a circle and it’s impossible not to laugh at the feeling, his arms tight around you. He sets you back down on the ground and pulls away, hands still resting on your waist.

“Surprise,” you grin at him. 

“You drove all this way just to surprise me?” Tyler looks at you in awe, his eyes both filled with an immense amount of love as well as a tinge of worry. “Baby, that’s a seven hour drive. Didn’t you have a shift yesterday? Please don’t tell me you drove all night.”

You shake your head. “I only drove till midnight, then I stopped at a motel. Promise.”

Tyler moves one of his hands to cup your cheek before he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re insane, y’know that? Drivin’ till midnight after an eight hour shift. You should’ve told me. What if something had happened to you on the road?” 

You can see the worry etched on his face so you waste no time in pulling him in for a hug again, burying your face in his chest. Tyler reacts immediately, gently resting one of his hands on the side of your head. You feel him take a deep breath, taking everything in, taking your presence in. 

“Ty, nothing happened. I’m here, I’m safe. I’m with you.”

He nods and rubs one of his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for comin’, baby. You have no idea how good it feels to be holdin’ you right now. When I looked over here and I saw you… was like everything felt like it might actually be okay.”

“Cause it will be, Ty,” you assure him. “But I do feel a little bad for tearing you away from the people that didn’t get selfies or autographs with you before you ran off.”

Tyler pulls away from the hug, but he still keeps a hand on you. “You got nothin’ to feel bad about, baby. I promise you that. And they all know who you are, I’m sure they get it.” 

You smile up at him and then have to stifle another yawn. Your attempt at hiding it fails spectacularly, though, and Tyler narrows his eyes at you. 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” One of his hands rests on your cheek again, a thumb gently stroking back and forth over your cheek. 

“A little,” you say. “The motel was kinda dodgy. The mattress was like a rock.”

Tyler gives you one of his best unimpressed looks and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m sending you back to our motel. I’ll give you my room key, it’s in the truck, and you can go and rest up while we try and chase this storm this afternoon.”

“No, no,” you disagree. “I’m comin’ with you, Ty. I didn’t drive all this way just to be cooped up in some motel watching your chase on a computer screen. I gotta steal my seat back from Boone. He’s been gettin’ way too comfortable up there.”

Tyler let out a laugh and leans down to gently peck your lips. “Oh, baby, you know that seat belongs to you. And believe me, Boone knows it too.” 

He attempts to step backwards, then, but you’re quick to move, placing one of your hands on the back of his neck and bringing his lips back to yours. Tyler has no objections, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses you back. It’s been weeks since he last saw you, weeks since he got to kiss you like this. You’re surprised he managed to hold off on it for so long after reuniting with you. 

“Come on,” you say after breaking apart from the kiss. You reach down and grab Tyler’s hand in yours, weaving your fingers through his. “Let’s go give the rest of these people their autographs and selfies and get me my seat back.”

Tyler grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “Lead the way, baby.” 

[nanaslutt]

im gotta get u in on this idea i have of true form sukuna eating u out but the catch is that he eats u out with the mouth on his stomach. while fucking u. tongue on the clit dick inside of u I feel like that would make anyone see the stars

Contains: fem reader, true form sukuna, size kink if you squint, belly bulge, degradation, he calls reader 'woman', dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, brief fingering, oral, reader passes out, somno at the end if you squint, sorta soft Sukuna at the end

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Im gonna fall asleep, fuck." The king of curses groaned, faking a yawn for dramatics as you fucked yourself on his cock. You were already so fucked out you could barely register his words. He had told you he would spare your life if you were to satisfy him amply, and at the rate you were going, you wouldn't leave this encounter with your life.

It wasn't your fault his cock was as thick and long as the average man's forearm, you practically felt him in your guts whenever you sat down on his cock, making you lose your sense of rationality. You were really trying, you wanted to curse at him, but you barely had enough strength in your body to lift your thighs up and down.

The king watched your tiny cunt swallow up his cock, his eyes focusing on the bulge that appeared under the skin of your pelvis whenever you sat down on his cock. The man was degrading you, pretending to be unimpressed by this humans work, when in reality he was fighting back his orgasm already.

The way you squeezed around him, the sound of your sweet voice whining and crying while your hands gripped onto two of his forearms that rested against his throne for stability-- all of it was driving him crazy. "S-sorry L-lord Sukuna." You whimpered, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his arm as you stopped your thrusts, sitting your ass on his thighs for a breather, his cock snug as deep as it could go inside you. "Did I say you could stop, woman?" He scoffed, his face scrunching up in displeasure.

"N-no, my lord." You cried, moving your hands to steady yourself on his chest, your nails digging into his pecs as you started up a faster pace than before. "This is beyond unsatisfactory." He sighed, watching your frame twitch and fight through the pain as his cock impaled your walls with every thrust. "Maybe you need a little encouragement." He spoke, making you give him a puzzled look.

A zap of electricity ran down your spine when you felt something thick and warm lick against your clit, making your whole body tense up at the sensation. "H-huh?" You looked down at where the two of you were connected and you almost froze at what you saw. A mouth, only this mouth was placed right under his belly button and was as wide as his torso. His stomach-mouth's tongue was poking out between its sharp smiling teeth and was licking against your clit.

"Maybe this will make you fuck me better." Sukuna's deep voice reverberated through the room, sending chills down your spine while he laughed maliciously. You took a deep breath and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth before you started bouncing on his lap.

His cock was bullying straight into your sweet spot, making your eyes roll back in your head as you rode his unhuman cock. Your burning thighs were making it so hard to keep up the pace, you felt like you had been here for hours. "C'mon, don't you want to live?" He growled, smirking when you started bouncing harder on his lap, fucking yourself through the pleasurable pain. He laughed at your pathetic state when you nodded your head submissively.

The mouth on his stomach would occasionally poke out the tongue and lick against your clit, which made your body jerk with pleasure. It seemed whenever you fucked him adequately, he would reward you by licking your clit. "You're so eager now that you're getting pleasured up top.. how selfish." The king drawled, tilting his head to the side as he rested it against one of his hands. He didn't know how much longer of your sloppy pace he could take. He was dying to grab your hips and fuck up into you like a madman, but he so enjoyed watching you struggle on his cock.

"L-lord S-sukuna please-" You wined, not knowing yourself what you were begging for as you rode him with a newfound vigor, alternating between rotating your hips flush against his, and bouncing on him. "Speak." He instructed, his large hand decorated with terrifyingly sharp nails digging into his throne to ground himself as he spoke. "I-its too much p-please h-help me." you cried, staring up at him, your glassy eyes staring into his dark and intimidating ones as you spoke. You were brave, he would give you that.

"Help you? God you can't do anything by yourself can you?" He scowled, looking down at you menacingly. "Useless woman." He growled, before his large hands gripped around yours, almost completely wrapping around your torso. His sudden movements caught you off guard; the king planted his feet firmly on the ground beneath him as he used his hands to raise you off of his cock while simultaneously fucking his hips up into you.

You let him use your body like a fleshlight as he fucked you roughtly, your body bouncing almost limply as he had his way with you. "Fuck, needed this." He groaned, biting his lip with a smile while the loud squelches emiting from between your legs combined with your loud and obnoxious cried and whimpers flooded his ears.

You thought this feeling couldn't get any more intense but you could not have been more wrong. He pushed you flush against his body, using two arms to wrap around you while one ran through his hair, and the other gripped under your ass to help fuck you up and down on his cock. Along with this new position what somehow made him feel even deeper than before-- if that was even possible-- his stomach mouth was now pressed right against your clit and was sucking vehemently against the little bud, making your soul feel like it was leaving your body.

"I know, that feels good doesn't it?" The king cooed at you as he watched your eyes roll back into your head from your place against his chest. His cock twitched when he felt the tears start to fall down your cheeks and smear against his pecs. from the roughness of his thrusts. As fucked out as you were, you knew that the worst thing you could do for yourself right now would be to not answer him. "G-good 's good K-una." You whined out, your voice coming out strained and broken from his mean thrusts into your pussy.

He smiled down at you, he had never seen anyone be so sloppy in front of him before, to tell the truth, it was refreshing. He bit his lip as he fucked his cock into you with more vigor, his stomach mouth still sucking and flicking its tongue relentlessly against your clit. "You like when I fuck you and eat your sloppy cunt at the same time?" He asked, having already known the answer when you cried and nodded your affirmation against him.

"Ffff-uck!" Your body jerked and spasmed uncontrolably on top of him, he realized you were cumming when he felt your cunt clench rythmically agaisnt his dick, making him grit his teeth as his thrusts lost their pace for a second, caught of gaurd by how good your cunt felt when you were cumming. "Yeahh, cum all over this cursed dick, woman." He groaned, feeling his own balls tighten with the need for his own release.

Normally, he would've been mad that some human woman had dared to cum without his permission, but he figured he could use this to his advantage. Your head was spinning when the curse picked you up and in one swift movement flipped you over so your back was lying flat against the seat of his throne, the curse placed himself between your legs as he threw your legs over his shoulders and folded you into a mating press, pushing your body to the limits as he smiled maliciously before fucking his cock rapidly into your walls, and making his stomach mouth come out once more to leave relentless licks on your overstimulated clit.

"L-ord S-kuna wa-it-" You panicked, feeling the painful pleasure wrack your body as he didn't let up in the slightest after you had cum. You kept trying and failing to warn him about how sensitive you were like he was unaware. "You want to please me right?" He groaned, not slowing his thrusts as he abused your exhausted hole with his cock. When you didn't respond he reached one of his large hands to your face and gripped the bottom half of your face in his hand, manually shaking your head in an agreement motion while his own mimicked you."Yeahhh, you do." He groaned, briefly looking down at where the two of you were connected to see the ring of white cum that was collecting at the base of his cock.

He placed one of his feet on the throne next to your body to give him better leverage to fuck you, as he pulled his cock almost completely to the hilt before he bullied it back into your walls. He noticed you were squirming more and more, trying to excape his thrusts, but mostly his insatiable tongue on your clit. It was about to push you over the edge again and you didn't know if you would be able to hang on to your consciousness if you did.

"Dont be mean," He cooed, furrowing his eyebrows when your lithe little hands came to press againt his lower stomach to get him to ease up on you. "Im giving your greedy cunt the attention it wants." He said, the tongue on your clit flattening itself and rubbing back and forth quickly, making a different sensaton build in your stomach.

"Cum if you need to, I don't care, but don't you dare fucking push me away." He growled, clenching his jaw as he felt your pussy tighten up around his cock again, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, loud and choppy "Ah, ah, ah!"'s were falling from your lips as you failed to tell him this orgasm felt different, your mouth wouldn't form words the way you wanted it to.

"C'mon, give it to me woman." He growled, feeling his stomach tie in knots the tighter you squeezed his cock in your walls. He watched between the two of you as his tongue rubbed back and forth quickly, spraying your juiced over yours and his thighs and abdomen as you squirted all over his cock. "F-ahhhhh-" He moaned, his thrusts once more losing their pace as the sensation made his orgasm crash over him. It was so sudden, he thought he had at least a couple more thrusts in him but the feeling of your cunt going absolutely crying around him was more than enough to push him off the edge.

You were right about one thing, and that was keeping your consciousness. About halfway through your own orgasm, you felt hot ropes of the curses cum start to fill you up, his deep growls into your ear, and still insatiable feeling of his tongue started to dull down as you slipped into unconsciousness. The curse fucked his cock as deep as he could go and stilled his hips, filling you up with his hot seed and relishing in the way it poured out around him as your little cunt was inadequate for taking such a massive load.

He felt your body go limp around him long ago, so he failed to realize you had passed out until he lifted his chest from yours and saw your sleeping face, chest heaving steadily as your legs still shook and vibrated from how weak they were. "Heh." Sukuna giggled to himself as he once more ran his tongue over your clit and relished in the way your body jerked underneath his ministrations even in your sleep.

He let his cock stop twitching and fully soften inside of you before he pulled out, keeping his gaze on your face while he watched your face scrunch up in displeasure. You must have still felt the oversensitivity in your sleep. As cute as he thought that was, he was more interested in the dramatic reactions he pulled from you when you were awake, so he had no interest in fucking a sleeping woman, but the need to ravish you was still prevalent.

His cock twitched at attention once more as he looked down at your battered and reddened cunt, and watched his thick load drip out of your poor cunt. He used two massive fingers to scoop up some of the load and fuck his fingers back into your cunt, smirking to himself when you wined in your sleep. "Weak woman." He chastised, gripping your sleeping face in his hand as he shook your head side to side and watched your eyebrows scrunch together.

He couldn't get the image of your reaction to his tongue and dick fucking you at the same time out of his head. He picked up your limp body and sat back down on his throne, placing you back on his chest while he watched your chest slowly and steadily heave up and down. He didnt know why, but he didnt feel the urge to kill you; any other woman in your position wouldve been slaughtered the moment they started humping him with those slow and annoying thrusts.

Yet here you were, a human woman lying asleep on his chest while his hand cradled your body against him on your lower back. He needed to get a grip. One thing he did know for certain though, and that was the second you awoke, he was going to eat you out with his mouth-stomach till you passed out again.

[pixxiies]

make you mine

matt sturniolo

ꜝ haven’s notes / when i can’t figure out what to write i look at madison beer’s discography and get to work . also sorry if this lowkey doesn’t make sense 😭

ꜝ genre / smutty smut

ꜝ pairing / bestfriend!matt x fem!reader

ꜝ warnings / first person pov, reader is a bit drunk, softdom!matt, bathroom sex, unprotected sex (don’t raw dog it), praise, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, hair pulling, degrading if u squint, not proof read, and pet names (baby, princess, angel, sweetheart)

unfortunately, nick had finally convinced me to go to the new hottest new club in downtown LA. he had been yapping to me about it even before he turned 21. so when i told him i would go, he was super excited. but now here i was, sweating from the heat caused from everyone dancing and jumping around.

before the chaos happened, i was a few shots down, just enough for me to be a bit tipsy. since everyone was pushing, shoving, and dancing, i quickly got separated from nick and chris. the club was packed since a famous dj was performing, i didn’t even know who he was anyway. but since it was so crowded i couldn’t even take my phone out and call nick. it was honestly super overwhelming. i push through the girls in skimpy dresses and the boys with unbuttoned shirts that were both glistening in sweat until i finally reached somewhere i could take out my phone. my sticky back pressed against the wall as i click call on nick’s contact. i waited for a few seconds before i was sent straight to voicemail. “great” i huff, putting my phone back in my tiny purse. i walk over to the bar that had a mini sort of line. “what can i get you?” the bartender asked me with a gentle smile. “i’ll just get a beer.” i smile back as i hand her a $20 bill. “you can keep the change” i say before grabbing the beer from her. i clicked it open as i look around the room, trying to see a familiar face. it didn’t take me long before i saw matt standing awkwardly against a wall.

i knew matt hated loud club parties like this, i still can’t figure out why he even came. i push and squeeze my way towards the brunette boy who had his hair sticking against his forehead. “matt!” i say over the music as i finally got to him. “oh hey” he smirked a little bit. “i can’t find nick or chris, nick isn’t responding my calls.” i say, standing next to him. “i can’t find them either, can i get a sip?” he cocks his head towards the beer can in my hand. i hand him it and he basically drank almost everything. “matt!” i giggle while slapping his chest gently and grabbing the can back. he laughed it off as i take a small sip. the blue, purple, and black flashing lights were almost blinding me, my eyes squinting a little bit to manage my vision. “i wanna leave” i sigh softly, feeling his arm swing around my shoulders. “me too.” he mumbled before grabbing the beer again and drinking the rest of it. “dude! you owe me $20.” i pout while taking the now empty can and shaking it around to hear nothing. “i’ll pay you back soon sweetheart” matt smiled while looking down at me. the beer and the shots already started making its effect on me, moving me from being tipsy to drunk. i smile shyly at him before i drag my attention back to the large amount of people. i didn’t even know what i was looking for, my mind was blurry and my vision wasn’t the best too. “wanna dance?” i ask him while tossing the empty beer can in the trash. he nodded with another soft smirk. “im down.” he replied, grabbing my waist and gently. matt pulled the both of us into the sort of middle of the club.

it was a bit spacious so we could dance freely. i spun around and i got surprised when matt grabbed my hips. since my mind was still fuzzy and i had no clue what i was doing, i decided to start grinding my ass on him. i could hear him laugh faintly as i did so. i look over at him from over my shoulder and smiled gently. i turn back around and before i knew it, he closed the space between us by kissing me. i didn’t know how to react. i wouldn’t say he’s a bad kisser, but he’s my bestfriend’s brother. i place my hands slowly on his face and i kiss him back gently. he pulls away for a second before looking down in my eyes. i giggle at him before leaning up to kiss him again. matt ran his hands down my body and stopped on my ass. “matt” i mumble while pulling away. “what?” he smiled back at me. “can we go to the bathroom?” i say softly, but loud enough for him to hear me clearly. he nods rather eagerly before wrapping his arm around my shoulder to protect me as he pushed through the large groups of people. we got to the bathroom, which was gender neutral so that was perfect. as soon as matt closed the door he quickly placed his lips on mine again. my tongue grazed over his bottom lip lightly before he took my tongue into his mouth. we could still hear the faint music in the back but our heavy breathing masked over it. thankfully, the bathroom wasn’t disgustingly dirty, it was very clean surprisingly. his hands ran up and down my body while he struggled to find the zipper of my dress. “wait—we—are—gonna—do—this—here?” i ask in between kisses. he pulled back slowly. “would you rather do it in the car?” he asked while tilting his head to the side. “im good.” i giggle before i went back to kissing him. my body pushed against him and my hands guided his to my zipper. he eagerly pulled the zipper down and put my dress to my torso.

“so pretty.” he whispered while trailing soft kisses along my neck. i paw at his shirt that had the first two buttons already undone. he pushes me back against the bathroom sink that had a small counter. matt helped me take off my panties and he put the small article of clothing in his back pocket. he pushed the small zipper of his jeans down before he unbuttoned them. i watch him in awe as he pulled his jeans to his mid thigh. he grabs my hips and turns me around gently so im now looking at ourselves in the mirror. he slowly pulled down his boxers, i felt his tip slap my pussy lightly. he runs the tips of his fingers through my glistening core. i shiver to the feeling, making him giggle a bit. “all worked up already?” he taunted. i nod slightly, still watching him from the mirror. he aligned his tip with my entrance and easily slipped in. i whine a bit as i adjust to his size, he planted a small kiss on my shoulder as i did so. after another minute or so, he started to move his hips against my ass slowly. i til t my head back slightly so he could place his chin on my shoulder. matt’s tattooed arm wrapped around my waist so he could hold me in place. “look at you, taking your bestfriend’s brother so well.” he cooed in my ear as i clam around his cock tightly. my jaw goes slack to his slow but sharp thrusts. i moan out a small ‘fuck’ under my breath, my head falling forward in pleasure.

matt used his free hand and pulled my hair up in a makeshift ponytail, forcing myself to look up into the mirror. “want you to see yourself getting fucked.” he whispered softly, his arm wrapped around my waist moving down to toy with my clit. i let out a choked out moan as i felt him in my stomach basically. my eyes flutter shut to the overwhelming pleasure. his hips snapped harder against my ass now, my velvety walls squeezing around him perfectly like a glove. “mmh fuck” i whimper, my face contorted from how good he was making me feel. the brunette boy groaned softly in my ear as his tip kissed that sticky patch that sent me right over the edge. my knees buckle, struggling to keep me up from standing. his slender digits continued to toy with my sensitive bundle of nerves that made me whimper nonstop. the small bathroom filled with the sounds of my pussy suctioning his cock and my pathetic little squeaks, mixed with the faint loud music coming just from right outside. “doing so good f’me angel.” he moaned softly. “‘m close.” i whisper from under my breath as his pace starts to fastened. “you can last a little longer f��me, right baby?” he whispers into my ear, his lips grazing my earlobe slightly. i nod quickly, not really sure how much longer i could last.

“i need words princess” he groans quietly, making me let out another choked moan. “yes” i say breathlessly as he let go of my hair. “atta girl.” he hummed, both of his hands resting back on my hips. i saw him look down in awe at the recoil of my ass hitting his pelvis, just for him to start thrusting more sloppily into me. “mmhh can i cum? please—“ i beg as we make eye contact from the mirror. “hmm” he hummed gently, just to taunt me a bit more. “alrighttt, cum for me sweetheart.” he laughed cockily. my lower abdomen muscles tightened as the pit in my stomach quickly disappeared. i came on his cock but, he didn’t stop. my eyebrows knit together from the slight overstimulation i was receiving. “‘m almost there.” he grunted under his breath. before i knew it, he stopped his hips deep inside of me, painting my gummy walls white. he panted softly before pulled out, letting the mixture of our cum start oozing out of me. “i told you i would pay you back.” matt teased as he reached over to grab some toilet paper to clean me up. “didn’t expect you to pay me like this.” i laugh at him while i start to fix up my hair.

ꜝ taglist / @flouvela @strnzzvsp @mattscoquette @mattsluttywaist @sweetstars-posts @submattenthusiast @xoxo4chrisss @conspiracy-ash @mxqdii @deftonesmatt @bambi-slxt

[evera-era]

f**k you.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim… i think thats it

a/n: kinktober’s here! ik im a few hours late guys im sorry. but hopefully this juicyness makes up for it !! wc 3.4k

Ellie couldn’t stand you.

She found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. Which was the biggest problem, ever.

She never failed to make sure to let you know what she thought of you.

“Hey, idiot. We’re trying to have a conversation. Shut it for once, yeah?”

And you made sure to let her know that the feeling was mutual.

“Suck my dick, Williams.”

And like clockwork, she’d say something along the lines of “Sorry babe. Not into that.”

Truthfully, the two of you had been doing this for a while. This was nothing new. You’d go at eachother back and forth until one of you gets genuinely pissed off. Rinse. Repeat.

Dina hated it because she loves the two of you; she just can’t handle being in a room with both of you at once. Jesse would find it amusing until you and Ellie wouldn’t shut up during a movie.

It didn’t matter what you said or did. Ellie would either laugh, mock, or straight up disagree with you. Even if you stayed quiet and said nothing at all.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

She’d wait for your response, and when you didn’t have one, she’d keep going.

“No seriously. You look like dogshit.”

“Ellie please shut the fuck up.”

It was like she couldn’t ignore you. As if your presence was so incredibly overwhelming, that she just had to react to everything you did. You didn’t get it.

If you met up with the friend group to eat, Ellie somehow “forgot” to get you something. She’d make plans and purposely exclude you. And if you brought it up, she’d tell you to “chill the fuck out, it’s not that serious.”

You hated Ellie. And yet here you were, six feet across from her, sitting on the rug of her living room floor. Dina had insisted on a friendly get-together at Ellie’s, specifically requesting that “you don’t kill eachother.” You told her you’d try, but made no promises.

“Hey, Jesse.” Ellie said. “Could you grab me and Dina another beer?”

“Ellie,” Dina says. “You didn’t even ask if Y/N wanted one.”

“So?” She replies. “She’s a big girl. If she wants another she can get it herself.”

You rolled your eyes. She always did this — talked about you as if you were the dumbest person to ever exist.

“I’m right here, Ellie.” You snap. “I can hear you.”

“I know.” Ellie says. “That’s why I said it.”

“Guys, please.” Dina groans. “Just one night. One good night is all I ask.”

Jesse brings over more bottles. He cracks one open before handing it to you. Ellie stares at you, waiting for Jesse to hand out the rest before speaking.

“It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her fuckin’ face all night.”

You scoffed. “You know, you’re really cocky for someone who lives in a fucking garage.”

“You’re lucky I even let your ass in this garage.” Ellie mutters. “Probably tracked in a shitton of dirt.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask abruptly.

Dina rubs her temples. “Guys—“

“You that stupid?” She questions. “It means I’m gonna have to sweep once you leave. Don’t want your germs gettin’ on my shit.”

“Fuck this. Nope. Not doing this.” Dina says, getting up from the floor. She whips around to face you and Ellie.

“I have tried to ignore the two of you in hopes of having a good time. I have begged you to get along for once. But clearly, none of it’s fucking working!” She throws her hands up. “I’m done. Seriously — come on, Jesse, we’re leaving.”

Jesse thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He begins walking towards the door with his beer in hand.

“Wait, what?” Ellie asks.

“You guys are gonna sit here and sort this shit out.” She says, throwing on her coat. “Until then, me and Jesse are going somewhere else.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dina—“

“Don’t wanna hear it.” She states as Jesse opens the door for her. “The two of you are smart, figure it out. You can come find us when you’re done.”

“See you,” Is all Jesse says, before pulling the door shut.

You and Ellie look straight ahead.

What the fuck.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. Dina was obviously pissed, but being left alone with Ellie was the last thing you wanted.

It’s as if she could read your mind.

“Get out.”

You raise your brows. “Excuse me?”

“They left because you don’t know when to shut your mouth,” She says. “And I don’t wanna keep hearing it, so get out.”

Your previous desire to get up and walk out of the door suddenly disappears. You set your drink down.

“No.”

“What?”

“You don’t like me? Great.” You say, kicking your feet back. “I don’t like you either. But I’m not gonna do what you say, when you say it, every single fucking time.”

“Wow.” She takes a sip of beer. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Your eyes flash over to the brunette in less than a second. But she doesn’t budge. Just leans into the couch, legs spread.

“Ellie—“ You begin. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

She smirks as if you said something funny.

“I’m serious. What the fuck is it?” You repeat, staring intently.

“Are you that dense?” She meets your gaze. “Your attitude. If you couldn’t tell, you have a serious attitude problem. Should really get it checked out.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Like you don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Yeah, but that’s me.”

“Oh,” You nod sarcastically. “Okay. Sure, yeah. Because that makes sense.”

“See? Again with the attitude.”

Silence fills the room as you bite your tongue. The fact that you felt the impulse to respond immediately kind of proved Ellie’s point.

It pissed you off that she was right. You did have a bit of an attitude problem with her. In your defense, she never leaves you alone. You get along just fine with everyone else.

You had given up. You were ready to just go home and tell Dina the truth later. But as you stand up, out of absolutely nowhere, Ellie says:

“It sucks, ‘cause you’re hot. It’s a shame you’ve gotta act like such a fuckin’ brat.”

Were your ears deceiving you? Did Ellie fucking Williams just say that?

You laugh it off and shake your head. “You are truly something else.”

“I’m being serious.” She replies. “You could just sit there and look pretty. Don’t know why you choose to be so damn annoying instead.”

“It would be so nice if you just learned when to shut up, Ellie.”

“You gonna make me?” She says, watching you. You sigh dramatically.

“Didn’t think so.”

The way she was toying with you made your skin run hot. You weren’t sure if she really meant what she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Either way, her sweatpants and sports bra combo wasn’t helping; you could feel yourself getting worked up.

“What are you getting at?” You blurt out. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” She murmurs, looking down then back up again. “Are you?”

You laugh harshly. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“You’re an attention whore,” She answers. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The way ‘whore’ rolled off of her tongue was so incredibly casual. And yet, you enjoyed the fact that she was saying it to you. Pigs must be flying. There was no way this was happening.

“I’m not a whore,” You stated.

“Oh?” She says coyly. “I didn’t call you a whore, I called you an attention whore. But you were quick to argue, so now I’m curious.”

You shift your weight to one leg. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Ellie.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”

You felt your neck and ears become incredibly hot. Ellie leans forward, pushing herself up from the couch and faces you.

“I’d be flattered if you said it’s ‘cause you like me as a person, but we both know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were dazed and unwavering. It could’ve been the alcohol, but it also could’ve been the fact that your mini skirt had been riding up your thighs all night.

And as for you, you surprisingly weren’t repulsed. In fact, you liked seeing Ellie like this. If you were sober you might have dipped already, but your legs were heavy and your panties started to feel very constrictive.

“I think…” She begins walking closer. “That you want the exact same thing. You just act like you’re too good for it.”

You could feel your inhibition weakening. You drunkenly stare up at her. “You think I’m not?”

“I know you’re not.” She takes another step. You go to step back, but your heel hits the wall.

“I don’t blame Dina for trying, but we both know we’re not gonna make up.” Another step.

“No?” You whisper.

“Mm-mm.” Her nose was almost brushing up against yours, now.

The eye contact was unmatched. Ellie wasn’t budging, and neither were you.

“I fucking hate what you do to me,” You whispered against her lips.

She smirks. “I fucking love it.”

Immediately, her lips are engulfing yours, with so much damn fervor and need. You curled your fingers in her hair, and tugged down hard. You didn’t care if you hurt her — after all, she deserved it.

Ellie smiles into the kiss, pulling you in closer as a small grunt leaves her lips. Her legs cage you in against the wall as she forces her tongue into your mouth.

You hated her. You hated her. You hated her.

So how was it possible for her to make you feel so goddamn good?

Her hands begin grasping at the hem of your clothes with frustration.

“Fuck, baby.” She moans. “Take this shit off.”

You were compliant at this point; you merely slid your hands under your shirt and did what she said. Ellie presses her head against your chin, whispering a few more curses as she looks at your exposed breasts.

“So fucking hot,” She groans, pressing her lips to your neck. You whined out of pleasure as you pulled her hips closer to you.

“This is so embarrassing.” You mumble, shutting your eyes.

“Mm,” Ellie hums. “Seem to be handling it quite well, though.”

The brunette begins trailing her kisses downwards. You jump at the new sensation.

“Ellie—“

“Shh.” She murmurs, teething dangerously close to your nipple. “Gotta focus.”

When she latches on, your head immediately falls back. You’re practically speechless as she sucks and swirls her tongue around the hardened bud.

You wanted her to keep going, but you were worried. If Dina and Jesse caught you like this…

As for Ellie, she is absolutely shameless in the way she’s going in on your tits. It was clear that she had wanted to do this for a very long time — she was just being a complete ass about it.

She pulls away with a hard ‘pop’ before looking up at you with her green eyes. “Come here,” She says, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with her.

You gasp as the two of you land on the couch. Her hand quickly finds the back of your neck as she kisses you again, bucking gently against you. A soft moan escapes your lips as you pull back.

“What if Dina and Je—“

“Y/N,” She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m in front of you, and I wanna fuck you. Please just shut up for once. Alright?”

You blush, looking down at her chest. Her nipples were poking out, hard as rocks. “You’re so fucking mean.”

“You’re fucking mean,” She says, smirking. “Depriving me of this for so damn long.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me,” You slur against her lips.

“Yeah, well… you are pretty fuckin’ annoying.” She huffs, as you lean in to kiss her again. As the minutes pass, you find yourself rolling your hips against hers.

“More,” You say quietly.

“Hm?”

“Want more of you, Ellie.” You sighed, nudging your fingertips under her waistband. “Please.”

She grins before sliding her sweatpants and underwear off. “Only because you said please.”

When your fingers drag down against her clit, she’s wet, and you absentmindedly moan. She sneers, staring up at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just… that was the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You hum against her skin, gently rubbing your thumb against her hood. “I could be sluttier.”

“Oh yeah?” She responds, grazing her teeth against your jaw.

You drag your fingers from her pussy to your lips, gently engulfing them in your mouth. You keep your eyes on her as you suck her juices off, groaning at the sweet taste.

Ellie’s face becomes that of a pornstar. Her eyes are half-lidded, nearly rolling back as she stifles a moan.

“Holy fuck,” She says, biting down on her lip. Her gaze drops to your lower body, and she begins shoving the fabric of your skirt up.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, watching the skirt bunch around your waist.

“Not gonna waste anymore time,” She explains, tugging at your panties. “I fucking need this pussy.”

You help her remove the undergarment, letting it drop onto the floor. Her hands settle on your ass as you gently lift her leg, lining yourself up against her.

“Fuck yes,” She whispers, watching carefully as you gently slot your cunt against hers.

Her cunt was soft, and incredibly slick and sticky. It takes you a moment to get the right angle before you begin to get a rhythm going.

Once you start speeding up, Ellie practically loses it. She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.

“Fuck yes.” She repeats, bringing her hand down onto your ass with a hard slap. Her eyes are closed as she scrunches her brows in pleasure. “Holy fucking shit.”

“God,” You moan, sloshing your pussy up against hers. “You’re so wet, Ellie.”

The room becomes one filled with wet noises and moaning. Ellie’s hands are grabbing at everything — your ass, your tits, the couch. She’s in euphoria, seeing stars as she tries not to black out.

“Goddamn,” She mutters. “So fucking good, baby. Doing so fucking good.”

You whimper at the praise, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Ellie had been your worst enemy for months, and here you were, bumping clits with her like a fucking slut.

“Shit—“ She grunts, pushing her head back. “I‘m close, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Already?” You joke. “That’s quick, don’t you think?”

She quickly opens her eyes and looks at you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You say slyly, slowing down ever so slightly.

She smacks your ass, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You slow down even more, grinning proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

“Y/N, you better fucking finish me off.”

“But… ” You whisper in an innocent tone. “We’re having so much fun, right?”

“I swear to—“ She exhales vexedly before sinking her nails into your hips. “Fuck it.”

She sits up, grabbing you forcefully before pushing you down so you’ve switched places. Ellie props your leg up on her shoulder.

“Wanna be a fucking brat? Hm?” She whispers, bringing herself down on your cunt harshly.

You moan in response, goosebumps beginning to form on your arms. You place your hands on her abs, pushing slightly in an attempt to get her to let up.

“Ellie, ‘s too much.” You mewl, as she ruts her pussy against yours.

“Shut up,” She mumbles. “You can take it.”

She keeps you down as she fucks you, ramming herself against your cunt. The sloshing of your clits sends you into a spiral.

“Oh my god, Ellie,” You murmur. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” She grunts. “You like this?”

You nod, but Ellie places a sharp slap on your boob.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, trying to grasp reality as the only thing going through your mind is how good her pussy feels on yours.

She uses her hand and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “You better not fucking cum until I do, you hear me?”

You nod again. “Y-Yes, Ellie.”

The way Ellie scissors is ruthless. She’s concentrated, hair sticking to her forehead as she stares down at you. She watches the way your tits bounce as she fucks herself on you, watching as you beg her to slow down.

Her teeth clench as she nears her orgasm. She looks up at the ceiling before dropping her head back down.

“Fuck, I’m, shit— ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah?” You murmur.

“Uh-huh.” You bring your hand up to her cheek as she maintains her rhythm.

“Wanna cum with you, Ellie. Wanna cum all over your fucking pussy.”

“Fuck,” She says through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes. Keep talking, just like that.”

Ellie knew she wasn’t very far off. But she figured she’d make the most of it, in case this was the last time she got to see you like this.

“So good, Ellie,” You say softly. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?” She exhales.

“Mhm,” You murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”

Ellie’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her moans becoming choppy. She gently holds your foot as she grinds her hips down faster.

As Ellie becomes wetter, you stiffen and feel your stomach tightening. You were getting really close, and she could feel it.

“Y/N,” She says. “I’m—“

“Me too—“ Is all you can say, before drawling out into a moan. Ellie rides you deep into your high, breathing sporadically as she cums, herself.

For a second, the two of you barely move, merely catching your breaths. But eventually your leg starts cramping, and you slide it off her shoulder.

“Holy fuck.” You whisper. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can.” Ellie says, slowly hopping off of you.

“You’re a liar.”

“How?” She says, leaning against the opposite end of the couch. “It was only a matter of time ‘til I got into your pants.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “So it was easy?”

“It was so easy.” She says, smiling. You look at the floor.

“Shut up.” You grin, reaching over to grab your clothes. You slowly put them back on as she copies you.

“Wanna go find Dina and Jesse now?” She questions, pulling her shirt over her head.

“I thought you said we couldn’t,” You say. “Since we weren’t gonna make up.”

“Mm, ‘cause we didn’t.” She states, cocking her head. “I need about three more rounds of this before we re-visit that topic.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You giggle, tossing your jacket at her. She laughs, putting her hands up to shield herself as it hits her.

“I’m kinda serious though,” She says. “You wanna give me head next time? Or…”

You smooth your hair down. “In your dreams, Williams.”

She looks around, contemplating for a moment. “Does that mean I give you head instead?”

“Ellie please shut up now.”