#Toppling To the Ground Out Of A Chair

[mygirlmm501]

The City (Rose & Connor)

Rose: I need to give you some stitches so.. please just close your eyes! Connor: Y..Yeah... I think I'm gonna pass out instead" *Connor proceeds to topple to the ground* *Rose Cringes* Rose: Or.. that works too..

[writersdrug]

Bartender!Simon accidentally running into Waitress!Reader while she’s carrying a bunch of drinks for a table, causing them to spill all over herself 👉🏻👈🏻

Even more bonus points if she’s dressed in a white shirt, iykyk 👀

You're onto something here

Also, combining this with the ask about reader snooping through Simon's flat on the 3rd floor

Warnings: NSFW, slight humiliation, Simon goes from gentleman to having nasty nasty thoughts

It's a busy night - when mid-September rolls in, the nights get colder, and people gravitate towards the warm lighting of the bar through the street-front window. You still have a couple of hours left on your shift, which means Ghost still has a while, too.

He can't remember how many beers he's poured tonight. The noise of the shaker is drowned out by the buzz in his head. Mack wants another PBR. Table eleven still needs their shots and two Martinis. He's in the zone, pouring liquor and juices and bitters with practiced skill. He catches every word from the patrons at the bar - at least, every order. He mumbles out a quick "step back, please" when a gaggle of girls tries to stand near the end of the bar, waiting for their drinks. The bar is completely seated, people stuffing themselves between chairs to place their orders. Somon's got half a mind to tell them to clear out and get the fuck back, but he has to be civil. It won't be this hellish for too much longer - Price texted Simon that he'd be there in a bit to help.

Simon's more concerned about you: you're running around, delivering food and drink, bringing condiments and refilling waters - you're weaving between tables, maneuvering around bodies with a quick "sorry" or "scuse me"... you're at one table, and in the blink of an eye, you're at another. Simon sometimes doesn't realize you went into the kitchen until you're busting the door open with plates of food. You're covered in a light sheen of sweat, your usual chipper attitude dampened by the Friday night rush. Simon doesn't miss the way you scowl when you hear a table calling for you, when both of your hands are full.

You push yourself through the crowd of girls hovering by the end of the bar. You huff, grabbing a tray and some glasses. "Is it national 'Go to a Bar' day?" You mumble, squeezing behind Simon and heading to the free soda gun.

He barely makes an effort to reply. "Must be." He grunts, pulling several bottles from the shelves and setting them on the counter. He's snatching this and that - you fill your glasses with water, sliding behind him and grabbing the various drinks on the end of the back and stacking them on your tray.

A man elbowed his way between the patrons at the bar. "Can I get another DogFish IPA?" He says, sticking his glass across the bar.

Simon groans internally, but he keeps a stoic face. He quickly leans to his left and reaches for the glass - right as you were picking up your tray, now stacked with drinks. You stumble back, not expecting Simon to be so close to you, and bump into one of the girls that crowds by the bar's entrance.

Simon feels his stomach drop when he sees each of the glasses topple over. You're instantly drenched, alcohol splashing across your eyes, which you have squeezed shut from the onslaught of fluids. Your shirt is absolutely soaked; a few of the glasses fall to the ground and shatter upon impact, alerting the entire bar and making their heads turn to you - the man who handed Simon the glass is ogling at you shamelessly, and the girl you'd bumped into turns around with a simple oh…

You're frozen, eyes wide and your entire front soaking. Your white shirt is practically see-through, clinging to your skin and providing little coverage for your pink, lacy bra. You look mortified and on the verge of tears. Your panicked stare drifts to Simon - you think he's going to yell at you, or worse: give you the silent treatment for the rest of the night because he's too frustrated to speak.

Simon is trying to keep his own staring under wraps – your tits look absolutely tantalizing, hugged so tightly by your wet shirt – but he snaps out of his daze when he sees your teary eyes. He drops everything - you're the most important person in the room right now. He quickly takes the tray from you and sets it aside.

"Here-" he shoves a fresh rag into your hands. "Cover up with that." He says, taking you by your shoulders and leaning down to your level. "Third floor, there's a dresser on th' left side, second drawer has shirts. Go dry off 'n get a new shirt, I'll clean this up."

You're too stunned to cry. You're angry, embarrassed, frustrated... there's so much happening around you, so many eyes staring at your fuck-up, but Simon's eyes keep you from losing control of your emotions. He doesn’t seem angry or irate – he’s worried about you. Shouldn't you help him clean up? It's your mess after all. "But-"

"Hush. Go on, luv - you're practically see-through." He quickly turns you around and gently shoves you into the crowd, and you hurry away to the stairwell without protest, holding the rag close to your chest.

Simon sighs. The pub slowly starts to return to normal, though people aren't trying as hard to get their drinks. A sense of shame seems to hang around everyone’s heads, though there was only one party at fault, here. He stares daggers at the girls who are still hovering by the bar. The one you ran into is gawking back in fear - she knows she messed up.

"Get the fuck back." Simon seethes, storming over to the POS. They all scramble away and press against the wall, afraid he might start swinging at them. "Finish ya drinks and leave. 'M closin' your tab. You're done."

They dissipate back into the crowd, right as Soap pops his head out of the kitchen. "Heard a crash, ye alright?"

"Fuckin' wankers can't understand simple orders." Simon grumbles, grabbing a broom from the corner and sweeping up the glass. "Slag couldn't get her ass out th' fuckin walkway and made bird spill a tray."

"Christ, she ok?"

"Upstairs. Changin'. Shirt nearly disappeared when it got wet."

"Need me tae check up on-"

"Got a fuckin' kitchen t' run, don't ya?"

Johnny scoffs and disappears back into the kitchen. Simon continues sweeping - he spots Price jogging up to the building throught he street front window, and he sighs in relief.

Upstairs, you do just as Simon instructed. You're topless, your bra still a bit damp after you tried to towel-dry it with he rag Simon gave you. You're sifting through his drawer, face scrunched as you shuffle through and inspect each shirt. You're a bit miffed at how many plain, black t shirts he has - has he ever stepped foot into an Old Navy? - but, eventually, you hit the jackpot.

You pull a shirt from the very bottom of the drawer. It's army green, a bit worn over the years, with a bit of a natural, masculine musk clinging to it. The right front chest has a skull, a sword, and wings, along with the table "Task Force 141". On the back, in large letters: "LT. RILEY".

A smile creeps its way onto your face. He never said which shirt... he said any shirt. And this is the one you want.

Your bra comes off quicky, the fabric still wet and uncomfortable. You toss it somewhere on the bed behind you – you’re sure Simon wouldn’t mind if you hung it over the back of his chair, right? Can’t be wearing a wet bra while you’re running around the restaurant; you’d have a bra-shaped water stain on your shirt. Or, worse – you’d get sick. And you know for a fact (though he’s never said it to you) that Simon would kick himself if you got sick on the job.

You quickly pull the shirt on - it swallows you, both in size and scent. It smells just like him - the bodywash you catch a whiff of when you pass him, the slight muskiness that surrounds you when he reaches above you to grab something - it's all there, just tenfold. You stand up and pull it down; it covers your thighs down to your shorts, almost making it look like you weren’t wearing any to an unassuming person.

You take a peek around the room: it’s quite cozy, even with a lack of real décor. The bed sits against the middle of the wall, with Carolina blue sheets and a grey comforter. The pillows look rather worn, but there’s at least three of them. There’s a television on the dresser that faces the bed, and a small bookshelf in the corner next to an antique-looking chair, except the shelf is filled with mostly keepsakes and memorabilia. Any books in the room are stacked on the edges of the two bay windows, embedded in the brick wall that faces the street. The only lighting comes from three lamps: one on the nightstand by his bed, a taller one next to the clothes rack near the bathroom, and a lantern-looking lamp that he’s somehow attached next to the door.

Curiosity gets the better of you – discovering anything about Simon that he hasn’t already told you is like striking oil. You pad over to the shelf, leaning down to inspect the various objects. A balaclava, rolled up and tucked behind a box. In said box is a medal, bronze and dull, with a fist tightly holding a blazing torch. A worn-down pair of sunglasses lay next to a ring. A green stone sits on a silver band, nestled between two ivy vines. There’s a picture of the four of them: Simon, Johnny, Price, and even Kyle – you had assumed they had met Kyle through the restaurant industry, but there they all were. Dressed in military uniforms, holding guns and posing with stern faces in front of a helicopter. Simon was wearing a rather terrifying skull mask, the rest of him completely covered by his uniform. You were only able to recognize Simon from his brown eyes, but the man in the photo looked entirely different from the bartender downstairs.

Fuck! You completely forgot that you were a waitress, sniffing around your manager’s office when you should be tending to your tables. You turned on your heel and left Simon’s room, running down the stairs two at a time.

Simon was still in the eye of the storm – barely a word had been passed between him and Price, other than a simple hello when he had first hopped behind the bar. Simon was keeping an eye on your tables, which were currently satisfied for the time being – but damn, what was taking you so long? Were you showcasing all of his shirts? The thought of that would’ve had him biting his cheek to prevent a boner, but he was too busy to be anything but concerned for you.

On cue, you come bounding down the stairs, throwing yourself back into the busy crowd as you tie your server apron around your waist. Simon pours a tap, barely able to make out your form flitting through the crowd, making sure your tables are well-off and happy. Price calls your name over the din of the crowd, and you squeeze yourself through the mass of people to collect the drinks sitting on the end of the bar.

“Sorry!” you exclaim, setting your drinks on a tray. “Had to mop myself up a bit with the rag. Did anyone order anything from my tables?” you ask, looking at Simon.

He’s… occupied. His eyes are trained on your shirt. His shirt. That army green that brought up so many old memories, ones he hadn’t thought of in a long time,..

His shirt. Covering your body – and, fucking Christ, you’re not wearing a bra. You’re completely naked under that shirt.

You’re confused. He’s staring at you with such a shocked, glassy pair of eyes that you wonder if you’ve shot him in the leg. You look down at what he’s staring at – oh, right. The shirt. A part of you heats up in embarrassment, and a part in… something else. Yes, I took your shirt. I’ve got your name on my back. If he’s thoroughly upset by this, he’s not expressing it. And if you’re mistaken in the thought that he looks aroused (you wouldn’t be surprised to find him drooling behind the mask – you know how delicious you look right now), you’ll give him the shirt back eventually and pretend this never happened.

“Thanks for earlier.” You spoke over the noisy chatter around you. “This, uh- I hope it’s ok, it was the first shirt I saw.”

Bullshit. He knows he buried that thing deep in his drawer. He did it on purpose. “’S fine.” He mumbles, still dazed.

You glance at him as you carefully balance the tray on your hand. The printer is dealing ticket after ticket of drinks as Price enters them – the man looks at Simon with a frustrated, tight-lipped glare, working double-time to push orders through.

“I’ll be back to grab the rest.” You say quickly. You scurry off, careful to avoid slamming into anyone this time. Simon nearly has a heart attack when he sees his last name across your back. You might as well have his bite mark branded onto the side of your neck.

This opens up a nasty can of worms for him. He’s a goner – he’s thinking about chasing you around the bar, after hours, while all you’re wearing is his shirt; snatching you up and slamming you down on the bar, shoving his face in between your thighs; what you sound like when he pumps you with his fingers; pounding you against the wall in the office, hips crashing into yours as he growls and grunts in your ear, “wanna wear my fuckin’ name, baby? hmm? wanna make sure everyone in this fuckin’ pub knows you’re mine? I’ll gladly fuckin’ help you, fuckin’ tease-“; god, he needs you, he needs to know what you feel like wrapped around his dick, what you sound like when he’s reaching those spots, he needs your nails in his back and your palm smacking him across his face and your teeth on his neck-

“Simon!”

John’s- no, Captain Price’s voice shuts off the movie playing in his mind. He looks at him, barely recognizing the growing frustration in his eyes – Simon’s fighting his own demons right now, and he isn’t even sure if his Captain’s wrath can save him.

“Stop thinkin’ with your Pork Sword and get your arse back on bar.” Price barks – a few of the regulars laugh at that, and Simon realizes he’d had an audience.

He clears his throat and grabs a ticket, quickly reading it and grabbing a glass. He forces himself to let go of the fantasy – he’ll have all night to think about it once he closes. That, or he’ll be hating himself for even thinking of you in that way, especially when the situation wasn’t in your favor. For now, though, he’s got a job to do. He continues to pour and stir and shake drinks left and right, occasionally stealing glances at you, prancing around with his title.

He knows one thing’s for certain – your bra is still somewhere in his room.

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom���s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[yieldtotemptation]

BLUEBERRIES ft. Chaewon

chaewon x male reader smut

9k words

"SURPRISE ATTACK!"

—is the last thing you hear before your entire world tilts sideways, the weight of your girlfriend crashing into you, sending you toppling over the arm of your chair and onto the thankfully plush carpet.

And just like that, Kim Chaewon has arrived—shattering the quiet of your apartment with the sound of her giggles and the thud of your bodies.

To her credit, she gracefully lands on top of you—legs straddling your torso, hands pressing down on your chest—pinning you to the floor, and she's grinning—all doe-eyes and mischief, her hair fanned out around her like a strawberry-blonde halo.

"Do you surrender, baby?"

You could pretend to put up a fight—push back a little, buck your hips, take her by the waist—get a little rough. But why would you? Especially when losing meant having Chaewon on top of you.

So, like always, you decide it's best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants and you play along: enjoying the creamy thighs squeezing your sides, that collarbone peeking out of your stolen sweatshirt, those impossibly large eyes looking down at you as she makes herself comfortable—and you respond with a rather theatrical groan, "I surrender, Chae."

"Nuh uh," she corrects you, her voice dropping down a comically low octave. "It's Chaewon-rys Targar-something, Queen of Apartment 19-4, Ruler of..."

"My fridge?" You offer.

"Very funny,” Chaewon replies, bemused.

It's been weeks without this—without her—and you've barely survived. Chaewon's schedule is a merciless beast, devouring every second of her time. But here she is, now, with you—on top of you—back in your life and picking up from exactly where she left off.

“But,” she continues, “seeing as you're in the mood for jokes how about… ThisI" Chaewon turns cruel, unveiling her most brutal method of torture—tickling. She catches you off guard, shifting her weight, her hands abandoning your chest and flying to your sides, her light fingers dancing over your ribs, her nails lightly digging in just enough to make you squirm.

"Wait-wait-wait!" You try to twist your way free, but she's got you good, her fingers now inching closer to your armpits, towards your most vulnerable spots. "Mercy!" you yell, but she's just getting started— “Mercy!”

"No mercy!" She's relishing this far, far too much, all giggles and grins, delighted at your pathetic efforts to struggle out from her grasp and escape her vicious assault. Your laughter comes out in uncontrollable bursts, as you desperately try to cover your sides to protect yourself from her onslaught.

"Ok-ok-ok-I give up! You win— you win—I give up!" You cry out, your laughter morphing into wheezes as Chaewon's relentless tickling at last, mercifully subsides.

"Aha! Round 129 goes to Kim-Chae-Won!" Chaewon turns and bows to an imaginary audience, mimicking a faraway crowd chanting her name "Kim-Chae-Won! Kim-Chae-Won!"

"I have once again been defeated," you feign a dramatic sigh, drawing an even harder laugh from Chaewon as you roll your eyes to the back your head and let your tongue loll out of your mouth.

Your apparent death does little to faze Chaewon, who takes this as an opportunity to plop down on your stomach, pressing her full weight down on your chest. She props her elbows on either side of your shoulders, her chin resting on her interlocked hands. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize.”

Chaewon slides her hands upwards, her fingertips walking up your arms towards your wrists, squeezing them lightly and pulling them over your head, holding them firm against the ground.

When your eyes finally refocus, she’s hovering over you, her button nose brushing against yours, and her lips—bright pink and slightly parted—just millimeters away from your own.

You're trapped under her, but you hardly mind—she's so warm, so soft, so natural—crime would skyrocket if this was considered a form of punishment.

"Let this be a lesson," she's whispering now, very much satisfied, so close that waves of her strawberry-blonde hair spill down on either side of your face. Strands tickle your nose with the scent of her shampoo, a floral bouquet that you've come to associate with lazy Sundays and the promise of warm breakfasts in bed. "I. Always. End. On. Top."

She finishes her victory speech by stealing a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

That simple kiss has your mind wandering, entertaining the thought of flipping the script—of surprising her, overpowering her and turning the tables.

You could grab her, kiss her long and hard—get rid of that ludicrously oversized sweatshirt and tear off those dangerously short sweatpants. Part those lithe, never-ending legs, feel the warmth of her bare skin against yours, mark your territory on her perfect, toned thighs and each individual abdominal muscle.

But the way she's looking at you, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, her eyes sparkling with playful triumph, she's so adorable that the thought of manhandling her right now seems almost...sacrilegious.

And, let's face it, it's seeing this side of her that you love—the Chaewon that's free from the glitz and glamour of the stage, the choreography, the smiles that are painted on for the cameras. The Chaewon that is not wearing the mask of someone enjoying herself, that is actually, genuinely having a good time.

Here, in your apartment, with the curtains drawn and the outside world blocked out, she's just yours—Kim Chaewon, your girlfriend. The one who laughs at your terrible dad jokes and makes fun of your outdated sense of style, the one who can tell whether you've had a good day or not just by how heavy your feet are when you walk through the front door, the one who knows all the perfect ways to make you relax after a tough day at—

Fuck.

Work.

The word sneaks into your mind like a ninja in the night—silent, swift, and really fucking inconvenient.

Fucking work.

A bullshit spreadsheet you're supposed to be updating and a deck that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, even though you know it won't be looked at for another month.

You don't have to say anything, Chaewon's already reading the frown lines on your face. "Oh—no-no-no. That's your—'fun time is over I have work to do'—face. I hate that face."

"There's these slides..." you know you’re fighting a losing battle, your voice trailing off as you try to hold onto the last remnants of what was once a very pleasant afternoon.

"No way—not happening," Chaewon insists, emphasising her point with a firm squeeze of your wrists. "I only just came back from Japan, and it’s been weeks. There is no way you're going to ditch the beautiful love of your life for that laptop. I'm literally on top of you right now!"

"Come on, Chae, I was almost done when you came in—"

"—when I defeated you in combat and forced you to surrender— "

"At least let me do a quick review then I swear I'm all yours," you negotiate, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing as your gaze falls to the laptop atop your desk, the open tabs taunting you. "Five minutes, tops."

"Nope, not moving, not going anywhere, you're just going to have stay under me like this forever." Chaewon's being petulant now—this is more your fault than anything, you've been spoiling her like a princess—and while she is acting like a brat, it's a brat of your own creation.

"Chae—come on—let me up, please."

"If I let you up, you'll get into one of your 'zones' and then it'll be hours before you’re done and you’ll completely ignore me," Chaewon pouts, her nose scrunching up in a way that's both endearing and exasperating. "And I've missed you too much for that."

"I promise I won't—”

Chaewon rolls her eyes at that.

“I'm serious—just let me up."

"Oh, you're serious now, how scary."

"Five minutes, Chae—"

“Bullshit.”

“Come on, let me up.”

"Or what, what are you going to—wait—what the—wait!"

It doesn't take much effort at all—face it, she's at best a hundred pounds soaking wet—but you're already on your feet, wrists free of her dainty fingers, holding her up with just one arm and a single hand palming an ample ass cheek.

You catch your breath as you stand, and she’s still reeling as the sudden balance shifts. She’s forced to cling to you, wrapping those long, toned legs around your waist, and looping her arms around your neck, her hands grasping at the back of your head as if she's afraid you're going to drop her.

"H-how the—how did you—I had you pinned!" Chaewon squeaks out, pure disbelief colouring her voice as she clings onto you.

You leave her to work through the logic on her own, returning to your desk, righting your fallen chair, all the while still holding Chaewon like a prize you've just won at an arcade.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Chaewon protests, but it's too late. You've already set her down on your desk, the laptop between the two of you like a barricade. She tries to keep her limbs wrapped around you, legs around your waist—do anything she can to stop you—but you gently, quite easily, peel her off—earning another scowl from your girlfriend.

You can feel Chaewon's eyes boring into you as you sit down at your desk, her legs swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk in frustration. The work itself doesn't take long—you were being honest—just a minor grammar check here, fixing some formatting there and—

"What was that? How did you just—”

It's the first time you've ever seen Kim Chaewon—usually so composed and untouchable on stage—so completely, utterly flustered.

"I don't get it. I mean did you just get this strong?" Chaewon's voice is small, barely heard over the sound of your keystrokes—trying to process what just happened. She's shifted on the desk, leaning back now on her palms, looking at you like you're a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere at all. "Or have you always been—you were just—were you letting me win? Hey—why are you laughing?"

You hit a final 'enter', saving your work with a performative flair, and spin the chair around to face Chaewon so you can give her your full, undivided attention.

But she's not looking at you—no, she's still trying to make sense of it, her gaze flitting from the chair, to the floor, to the laptop, to your hands that are now folded neatly in your lap. You're expecting a comeback, something witty and biting, something that'll make you laugh, but she's just sitting there—pouting. Adorably so.

"Chae, come on."

"What?" She snaps out of her daze, the hardware in her head overclocking. "I just—I exercise way more than you—I run, I dance everyday, I go to the gym, I do pilates—you can't be that much stronger than me."

"I'm like twice your size, Chae." You chuckle, reaching for the water bottle on your desk and taking a well-earned swig. "And I do manage to sneak in some workouts when you're not around to tickle me to death."

"But... this whole time?" Chaewon asks, there’s an accusation in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, inadvertently distracting you with the way it makes her sweatshirt pull tightly across her breasts. It's too fucking cute, and you can't help but lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head away at the last second. "Every time, you've been taking it easy on me? Kiddie gloves?"

You sigh.  "More or less."

"Why?"

"I guess I thought you knew," you say with a sheepish smile, "but even then, I didn't want to spoil the fun for you." You take another sip of water, watching her carefully. "You're so competitive, Chae. And when we’re playing like this and you win, you're so... happy. I just like seeing that."

"But that's..." Chaewon stammers. "Even when we're... You know... You're so... Gentle with me."

"Of course, I never want to—I'm just afraid that—"

"Afraid of what? That you'll break me? Okay, Bruce Banner." Chaewon teases, seemingly having made some decision in her own mind, as she hops off the desk to face you. "So, you've been holding back? You really think you’re that much stronger than me?”

You give her a very cautious shrug.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you’re really as strong as you think. Show me. Here—take my wrists—" Chaewon says, holding them out to you, "—and I bet I'll still be able to break free like I always do."

“I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,” you say, setting your bottle aside and standing up to face her.

“Why? Chicken?” She answers, and you try not to facepalm, reminding yourself that it is easier to just give her what she wants—most of the time, anyway.

"Alright, if that's what you want," you reply, gently placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her so her back is flat against the nearest wall. She's staring up at you the whole time, watching you intensely as you take both her wrists in one hand, holding it against the wall and above her head.

"Really, only one hand? This will be real easy to get out of—" Chaewon starts to taunt, but she never gets to finish her sentence, because your grip tightens around her wrists and she feels the full weight of your body pressing into hers. She tries to pull away, expecting the same give she's felt countless times before, but your hand is like a vice—firm and unyielding—and it dawns on her that she's not going anywhere.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she tries to hide her surprise—because she's still in the game, still playing along. She tries to push off from the wall with her legs, but you anticipate it, placing a hand on her waist and keeping her in place.

Even you're surprised at how little effort it is to keep her still—a small push here, a slight change in weight there—Chaewon is at your mercy and it feels... different.

"Wait—I can't—" Chaewon still hasn’t given up, squirming and wiggling, doing little to help her escape but a lot to make you want to keep her against you.

She's trapped, every move she makes only making it worse for her—better for you—moulding her body closer into yours, aligning the softness of her curves with the hard lines of your chest.

But still, she struggles, tries every way she can think of to break free—twisting, turning, pushing with her legs, even trying to bite you at one point—but her best efforts only make you chuckle, and press her harder into the wall, press yourself harder into her.

You can feel her heart racing beneath her sweatshirt, and there's something there—you both feel it—a sudden tension in her helplessness, a thrill in your newfound power over her. "Damn it—this is so—argh!"

Chaewon’s eyes meet yours, and there’s your confirmation—that spark of something new, something unspoken. It's not anger or fear—no, she's never looked at you with fear—it's something else entirely. It's excitement, curiosity, a hint of arousal.

And so, you lean in, closing the last gap between you, and kiss her—right there against the wall.

It's not the gentle peck she's used to, it's not the sweet, loving kiss she’s grown to expect—it's more. You don’t even understand it yourself—it's raw, it's passionate, it's the kind of kiss that could start a war—or end one—the kind of kiss that sucks all the air from the room.

Her body tenses up, and for a moment you fear that maybe this is too much, too far, and you ready to let her go.

But she melts into it—into you. You let go of her wrists to cradle her face, and her arms fall to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back—kisses you like she doesn't want you to ever stop, like she knows she couldn't stop you even if she tried. Her nails dig into your skin, not painfully, but with enough pressure to remind you that she's here, that she's alive and real and in this moment with you.

You push her into the wall, the plaster giving a gentle protest, and she’s lifting her legs up—she’s straddling you again, gravity doing its job and keeping her affixed to your torso.

Chaewon adapts, her ankles lock behind your back, pressing herself against you, her thighs tightening around your waist, and she’s hips grinding down over your sweatpants.

It’s almost too much, too fast—zero to a hundred in record time. You break the kiss, panting, breathless, but Chaewon's eyes stay closed, her chest heaving, as if she's afraid that if she opens them, this moment will evaporate like a mirage.

"Enough proof for you?"

"Yeah," is all Chaewon can muster, and she opens her eyes, dazed, like you’ve just woken her up from a particularly good dream.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want to ruin your fun. Are you upset?"

"Upset?" Chaewon repeats, letting the word roll around her lips. "Maybe a little bit," she's biting her lip—so endearingly—and you can see the wheels turning in her head—recalculating, reassessing. "But now I'm just..." she pauses, looking down and rolling her hips against you once more, "I'm just really, really turned on."

Her admission hangs in the air between the two of you, and the air in your apartment begins to feel hotter, thicker, laced with something new.

"I love how you take care of me, how you make me feel safe..." Chaewon continues, "But this... the way you're holding me up like this... So easily, it's just so..." Another shifting of weight, another grind of her hips, and she’s slowly discovering what your sweatpants is making very little to hide. "Hot."

"Is that right?" You can't take your eyes off her lips, the way they form those delicious words. Maybe you've been wrong to treat her like she's fragile, like you could hurt her if you're not careful enough. Maybe what she’s really been craving is to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she can handle you—all of you. "Tell me what you like about it."

"I like how—ah—" Her voice hitches as you let go of her waist with your hand, sliding it under her sweatshirt, running your fingers over her toned stomach, feeling it cave in a sharp inhale. "How in control you are. How strong you feel."

Even without your hand at her waist she doesn't fall—her legs simply tighten around your waist, her grip on your neck becoming more secure, more possessive. You trace her belly button with your fingertip—her breath catches, her eyes flutter shut.

"How it feels like you could do—mmm—" she continues, her words getting lost as your hand rises higher up her body, reaching the swell of her breasts. Chaewon arches her back, pushing her chest out for more, a soft mewl escaping her lips. “—could do anything to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you."

You slip your fingers under her bra, the fabric stretching to accommodate your touch, press your thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. You pinch and roll them lightly, basking in her reactions, the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her mouth forms a perfect 'O'.

"I can do anything I want to you."

Chaewon's eyes open, and she’s looking at you like she’s seeing someone entirely different in place of her usual, doting boyfriend. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks a glowing shade of red that seems to spread down her neck and into the fabric of her sweatshirt. She opens her mouth, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, and she whispers—"Will you?"

Two simple words. Two simple words that unlock something deep inside you. Something primal. The thing inside each man since the dawn of time that drives them to hunt, kill, fuck like their lives depend on it.

Two simple words that have you leaning in and kissing her again, not just her lips—your mouth traces a fiery path along her jawline, the tender spot behind her ear, down her neck. Each kiss is a promise of what's to come, each nip of your teeth makes her shiver.

Chaewon gasps, her body writhing under your touch, her legs tightening around your waist, desperate and afraid you'll pull away. You don't. Instead, you press into her, feeling the wetness spreading through her shorts, and it takes all your self-control to not rip them off her right there.  

"Bedroom," she manages to get out, a soft, fleeting whimper between kisses, "take me to the—"

You never find out the end of her sentence—twisting her body around, your hands cupping the firm, round globes of her ass, and in a single, swift motion, you lift her higher, throwing her up and over your shoulder.

"Wai—" Chaewon squeals as you hoist her up, her legs dangling in the air, has ass pointing to the sky.

She's giggling again, the sound muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt, her laughter vibrating through your back as you carry her across the apartment.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this—" she's still giggling, managing to separate herself from your back to chide you,

"—you're so strong it's unfair—",

"—treating me like I weigh nothing—" ,

"—like a caveman—",

"—I'm going to have to tell the others about this—",

"—they won't believe it—",

"—I don't even believe it—",

"—my what a big, strong boyfriend I ha—"

But she's cut off again as you kick open the already ajar bedroom door, the wood slamming against the wall. Before she can realise what's happening you're throwing her onto the bed, her body bouncing once before she lands in a sprawled mess of limbs and exclamations.

"Are you ever going to let me finish a full sen—"

"Chae," her name comes out deeper and gruffer—far more demanding than you intended, cutting off her playful protests in an instant.

For once, Chaewon is paying full attention—no quips, no sarcasm, no laughter to lighten the mood—the room completely quiet except for the sound of her breathing, and even that seems to hush in anticipation of what's to come.

You stand over her, her legs still in the air, her body open and exposed for you—her sweatshirt riding up, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the little mole you've kissed a thousand times just above her navel, her shorts stretched so tightly over her thighs.

It's in the way she's looking at you too—the way she squirms under your gaze, the way she can't help but make her body arch up towards you, pushing out those beautiful, perfect breasts, slightly parting her legs as if inviting you to dive in—wanting you to take her (to fuck her) in all the ways you wanted to but were too afraid to try before—it's all so different, all too much, all so fucking intoxicating.

"You want me to do whatever I want to you?"

Chaewon swallows hard, and nods.

"You want me to take you however I want?"

Another nod, another submission.

You step closer to the bed, your mind completely made up. "Then say it."

Her voice comes out hoarse, a strained whisper. "Take me."

"Again."

She repeats it, this time her words clearer, urgent. "Please—take me."

And with that—her shorts—those tight, far too tiny shorts—become your first victim. There's no time for slow, teasing unbuttoning or the gentle tug of fabric over skin. You're too far gone for that.

So, you rip.

The button pops off with a satisfying ping, and the material gives way, revealing her panties beneath. The sound makes Chaewon gasp, her body shiver.

Hooking your thumbs in the waistband, you drag the shorts down her legs, bringing them gliding over the soft skin of her ass, catching briefly on her thighs before you toss them to the floor.

Her panties are next—white, cotton, and oh-so-innocent looking—the kind tailor-made to be ripped off and left in shreds. But just as your hand reaches the waistband, something holds you back.

A thought—a flicker of doubt—crosses your mind. What if she doesn't like this? What if you're getting caught up and taking things too far? What if she regrets what she's about to let you do to her?

But then, "I'm okay," Chaewon says, reading your hesitation. "Stop thinking like that." Her voice is firm, almost commanding. "I want this."

"Chae—"

"I. Want. This." Chaewon repeats, her voice stronger. “I want it all.”

You trust her—you always will—and so, you nod, understanding the gravity of her words. You lean over her, capturing her gaze, making sure she sees you, really sees you. "Alright, but we need a safe word."

"A safe word." Chaewon echoes, a smile rising on her face, as she realises what a safe word means—what it enables you to do to her.

"If you want me to stop," you say, slowly, like a professor and his star pupil. "Just say..."

"Blueberry," Chaewon interjects, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous smile.

"Blueberry?" It's so unfitting, so fucking adorable, so Chae. "Fine then, if you want me to stop," you begin to explain the rules of the game that you're already starting—kissing down her calf, over her knee, down that gorgeous curve of her inner thigh, until your lips are meeting cotton— "you just say 'blueberry'. As loud as you can, the second you want me to stop. Otherwise, we keep going until I'm satisfied. Got it?"

Chaewon nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, but you don't miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. She's so ready for you, so ready for what's to come next, her body vibrating with anticipation.

"Good."

The single word hangs in the air, a declaration of intent. With it, your hand moves to her panties, the cotton material damp with her arousal. You don't hesitate, you don't play it slow, again—all it takes is your thumb in her waistband and you rip. What were once her panties gives way easily, tearing with a sound that's halfway might as well be a starting pistol, revealing her bare, already glistening, already so wet pussy to the coolness of the room.

But Chaewon's not just lying there waiting for you to make your next move. No, she's not that kind of girl. She's sitting up now, her sweatshirt coming off with a flick of her wrists, the heavy garment flying through the air to land somewhere in the room, forgotten.

Her bra follows suit—quick, efficient, like she couldn't wait another second to be naked for you. Chaewon's breasts bounce free, full and firm and so fucking perfect, rosy tips hard from the cold air or maybe just from the way you're looking at her.

Fuck, the sight of her alone is almost too much. You take a moment, just to breathe her in—to admire the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows on her skin, highlighting the curves and valleys of her body. She's a work of art, a masterpiece, and now, she's all yours—every line, every freckle, every goosebump that pops up as the cool air kisses her heated skin.

But you're not here to admire, not now. You're here to give her exactly what she wants, to treat her exactly how she deserves.

You push her back into the bed, your hands on her shoulders, the mattress sinking under your joint weight, and you're kissing her again—no, not kissing, consuming. You kiss her like you're trying to claim her, like you're trying to brand her with your mouth, and she's kissing you back with matched desperation, her nails digging into your skin like she's trying to climb you, to get closer, closer still.

"Mmmm..." Chaewon presses herself up against you—her taut, stiff nipples pushing into your chest, perfect buds squashing themselves against your body, her bare skin gliding over your shirt, her pussy, hot and wet and slippery, working its way over the swell of your sweatpants.

Her hands are everywhere—fumbling with your shirt, running up and down your back, grabbing fistfuls of your hair—and her lips follow, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ear, her tongue tracing the shell, her lips whispers sweet—filthy—nothings into your ear.

She dares to move a hand lower, squeezing in some tiny gap between your two bodies, reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers teasing the skin just above the elastic.

But you're quicker, catching her wrist, pulling it away with a firm, yet gentle grip.

"No."

You collect her other wrist in the same hand, stretching her arms out and over her head, pushing her down—with your grip, your weight, your hips—keeping her in place, keeping her where you want, paying her back in kind for her earlier “victory”.

"I know what you want," you murmur against her neck. You lean more of your weight into her, your hips pressing down, grinding against her—a slow, deliberate movement, that stains your sweatpants with the juices leaking from her pink, puffy lips.

"Yes," she purrs, "I need you."

"I know," you taunt—another grind, another groan, a deepening stain, "but I need you to want me more."

"I do," she's pleading, begging, "please, I need your cock."

"Not yet," you say, a light chuckle at the whine that escapes her lips. "Not yet."

"But—"

"I am going to fuck you," you say. "Not how you're used to." Her breath hitches, throat swallows—apprehension, arousal, adrenaline—it's all there, playing out on her face like a silent movie. "I'm going to fuck you in every way that I've ever wanted to, in every way I thought you could never handle."

You snake a hand from her waist, drawing a path with your fingertips, running them over her soft, unblemished skin, the ridges of her abs, as you move your hand down, down, until you're right at the juncture of her thighs.

"Ah!" It's the sweetest sound, a high-pitched gasp that turns into a full-throated groan as your index finger breaches her wetness, sliding into the slick, dripping opening of her cleanly shaved cunt—so, so wet—until it's buried knuckle-deep inside her.

Chaewon's back lifts off the bed, her body curving as you slide your finger in and out of her, settling into a steady rhythm. Every movement earns a different, delightful reaction—you trigger your finger: her body shakes, you kiss her neck: she echoes back your name, you add your middle, then your ring finger into her tightness: she falls apart.

"God—gah—" she chokes on whatever noise her mouth is trying to make, her legs spreading wider, hips bucking up to meet your hand, your rhythm. She's beyond soaked; her thighs, her lips, your palm—all drenched in hot, insatiable wetness. "You're so—so fucking good at this."

You add your thumb to the mix, brushing the hood of her clit with the pad; you curl your fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her crumble.

Her eyes start to close, she’s lost to the sensation, her face contorting in beautiful agony as her walls close around your digits, before you snap her out of it—tightening your grip around her wrists, a slight jolt of pain to force her eyes to meet yours.

"Look at me," you grunt. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Chaewon doesn't dare even blink—she’s so obedient—and the way she's looking up at you now—so willing, so wanting to please, so eager for more—it's bordering on complete worship.

So, you give it to her. You plunge your fingers deeper, twisting and turning, feeling her tighten around you, her wetness coating your hand, the walls of her pussy fluttering with each stroke. You can see it in the redness of her cheeks, the trembling of her thighs, the way her stomach muscles tighten and release—she's close, she’s been so close for far too long.

"Good girl." You kiss her forehead, her nose, her dimples, something sweet amongst the depravity.

"Am I?" Chaewon's question is hopeful, so disastrously erotic, her voice a breathy whisper. There's the beginnings of a storm in her eyes, the first hints painting her features in a way that's so vulnerable, that tells you the only thing holding her back from collapsing is your explicit approval.

"Yes, Chae," you murmur against her ear, nibbling gently, your fingers melting inside her folds. "You're being such a good girl for me."

"Th-thank you," she manages shaky words, barely keeping it together, at the mercy of the quickening of your fingers, the circling of your thumb, the movements of your hand, helping her climb towards that wonderful peak. "Oh my God—how are you—how is this—so—fuck—fuck—"

"Good girls deserve a reward." You're roughly kissing into her collarbone, feeling her pulse hammering under your lips—you want to leave a mark on her body, something for her to remember this by—something to remind her how completely she came apart for you. "Cum for me—cum now—cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it—how much you love it."

"Please," Chaewon's desperate, so desperate, trying to do something, anything, everything that she can to convince you to let her fall apart. "I love how you touch me—just—please—I’m so close—"

She’s on fire, there’s too much pressure—your fingers work inside her, undoing a knot of their own making—unravelling that slutty ache inside your girlfriend—your good girl—fucking her and stretching her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth to drop open in a silent scream.

"So good—so fucking good—just like that—mmmm-MMMPH!"

You breathe it in—your mouth on hers, her cries dying in your throat—feeling her tighten, tense, release around your hand as her small, tight frame—her whole, amazing body—overwhelmed by just three fingers and a thumb.

It takes her like an eruption, a natural disaster—dancing along her skin, to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts—turning her into a shivering mess, leaving her limp beneath you.

"Fuh—"

You release her lips, watching her pant and quiver, her chest heave, her body spasm from the aftershocks of her climax.

Your hand is drowned in her heat, her juices sticking to your skin as you slowly draw your fingers out of her, glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Here, have a taste." You lift your hand to her face, tracing your sticky fingers along the seam of her mouth, smearing her juices over her soft, parted lips.

Chaewon's tongue darts out, welcoming your digits as you push inside her mouth. She sucks greedily, her tongue lapping your fingertips—she can't get enough of the taste of herself on you.

"Good girl," you say again, and again—she shivers.

The tremors of her orgasm start to fade, and you pull your fingers from her mouth—no longer lathered in her cum, but shiny with her spit.

You straighten, leaning back so you're on your knees, between Chaewon's spread legs. Her eyes follow your hand as it leaves her wrist, traveling up to the neck of your shirt, pulling it off your head and reuniting it with the growing pile of discarded clothing.

Her gaze wanders down, down your body, landing at your waist, at your pants, painfully stretching over your erection.

"Take it out for me, Chae," you instruct, unnecessarily—she's already there, licking her lips, quick at work. Practiced fingers pull down your sweatpants and set your cock free, letting it spring into view, hard and heavy, landing directly on her lips.

But she doesn't get the chance to take it in her mouth, to swirl her tongue around the tip and suck you like she's so clearly been dying to—you have her by the hair before she can dive on your cock, to take it down her throat. It's harsh, it's sudden, it elicits a startled groan from her throat—but it makes it clear that this is not going to be the usual 'good little girl' kind of night.

"No," is all you have for her. You're on the edge—you've been on the edge ever since she pleaded for you—you’re done with the foreplay; you're done with the teasing. Fucking Chaewon senseless. That’s all there is now—fucking her hard and fast.

You pull her up by her hair and your mouth is back on hers, pushing and pulling, tongue in her throat, tasting her—tasting her nectar on her lips—dominating her, her own tongue dancing and wrapping around yours, her teeth grazing your bottom lip.

Your other hand finds its way to her chest, squeezing her breast in your palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness of her skin, the hardened peak of her nipple against your palm. There's not enough time—you want to shove your face between them, taste her nipples, feel them roll between your teeth, give them the attention they deserve.

But instead, you're pulling back on her hair again, gritting your teeth. "Turn around. Bend over."

There's no hesitation, no protest from her—Chaewon's a good girl, and good girls do as they’re told. She rolls onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air—she's presenting herself to you: an offering, a prize, a fucking goddess on a platter. Her spine arches as she looks back at you over her shoulder, the soft curve of her cheeks begging for you to take it.

You startle her, taking her by the hips, pulling her back to you so that when you lean in, your mouth is pressed to her ear, and your cock is twitching against the waiting, wanting, folds of her lower lips. "I'm going to make you feel it," you whisper. "Every part of you, understand?"

Chaewon nods, but it's not enough—not for what you have in store.

"I don't just want a nod, I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me how good it feels while I'm fucking you—I want to hear it all."

"O-Okay.” She’s tense, you can see it, like a coil winded up in her body, but she's eager, so fucking eager, been waiting for this for far too long—"make me scream for you—FUCK!"

Chaewon's true to her word—she shrieks as you bury yourself deep inside her, is undone by your cock—as ready and wet as she is for you, she's still so incredibly tight, needing you to stretch her, fill her, own her.

But it's not enough—you’re not going to ease her into this, to the pleasure ripping through your bodies, not going to let this moment breathe.

As soon as you've sunk into her, given her every inch that her needy little pussy could take, you're backing up, sliding your stained shaft right out of her cunt before slamming back forward.

She's crying out, making barely intelligible sounds, as you’re digging your fingers into that tiny waist, holding her by her hips as you crash into her, feeling it all—the unfathomable heat, the tightness, the wetness, the way she clenches around you with each thrust—again and again and again.

"Words, Chae," you remind her, needing more from than just the sounds of her sweet, sweet agony, and the slapping of your hips against her ass cheeks. "I want words."

"Y-yes—fuh—fuck—YES!" One-syllable noises are all that Chaewon can manage to start—all you can fuck out of her—but with each thrust, she's getting better, getting bolder. "It feels so good, so hard, so big—God, so deep—you've never—I've never been fucked like this…"

"More." It's addictive, hearing her talk like this, knowing every word that comes out of her mouth is the absolute fucking truth—the proof is in how she's shaking beneath you, how she drips around you, how her fingers claw into the sheets, trying her best to hold on. “Tell me more.”

"Y-you're going so fast—so fucking hard!" Mindless, stream-of-consciousness, fuck-drunk ramblings spill from her lips—she's begging, cooing, whimpering as you mercilessly fuck her, making her divine tits swing below her, her ass ripple with each collision. "Making me so wet—making me so fucking wet—I can't even—can't think straight—just your cock—your fucking cock!"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it Chae?" You hiss, over the sounds of the headboard slamming against the wall, the bed creaking beneath you, and her moans—oh those moans. "This is how I'm going to fuck you from now on—however I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."

"Yes-yes—this is what I want—what I fucking need. To be fucked like this—pounded—broken—so fucking sensitive." The words come so easily from her lips, straight from the pleasure centres of her brains and to your ears. "I deserve this—I've been so good—haven't I? Aren't I your good girl—please tell me I'm your good girl—please?"

"You're my good girl, Chae, you’re my perfect little slut," you acquiesce, and she cries out in relief, her body shaking under the weight of your words—she leans into your touch, your control, your cock. "And good girls get what they fucking deserve."

Another thrust has Chaewon bowing her head down to offer more of herself to you, to give you a better angle to pump her harder, deeper, laying her cheek on the bed and turning her face so you can see that blissful grin on her face, see her lips mouth your name like a prayer.

It's so perfect—she's so fucking perfect—so impossibly tight, a ridiculously wet dream of a cunt—"all yours, all yours"—so aching for you to fuck her straight into the mattress—"I can't take it"—so needy for you—"use me"—so hungry for you—"more—please—I need it."

You're giving in—giving long, intense strokes—you're consumed by it, by her, by how every lovely curve and tensed muscle of her immaculate body is doing its best to take you, to please you, to give you a fraction of the ecstasy that’s breaking her into a million tiny, euphoric pieces.

"God, I love it—love your cock—pounding me—fucking me—hurting me—I can't even think—GOD!" She's doing her best to form coherent sentences, but it's futile, she's slipping—you're not even sure if she's aware of what she's even saying anymore—it's just raw, unfiltered need.

This is going to be a problem—you're never going to be able to go back. Not when she's so needy for you—so needy to be filled by you, so needy to hear your praise as she takes your cock, so full of nothing but words of thanks for how roughly you're treating her, how you're completely ruining her—"thank you—thank you—thank you for fucking me so good."

And then you're falling, a deep, sharp thrust and you’ve sent her forward—her knees give in first, her elbows buckle. She's taking you with her, pulling you by the cock still lodged deep in her cunt. You catch yourself before your face hits the bed, one hand on the mattress, the other still wrapped around her waist.

It does little to slow you down—just gives you a better vantage point to fuck her deeper into the mattress—"yes—yes—fuck—fuck—" —to run your hand up her body and seize her by her tits, so ripe and full and yours to squeeze and twist and tease— "touch me—hurt me—it's all yours—all fucking yours."

And you do—oh, you do—you take her by the tits, feeling the soft flesh of her breasts give way to your grip, roll her nipple between your thumb and forefinger—so sensitive, so responsive. She's lost in it, so happy in the pain and pleasure of your touch—you're leaving another mark—and she cries, she curses, she clenches around you, she joins her hand over yours and pushes you for more, needing more of the loving sting you're giving her.

She’s pulsing on your shaft—walls tightening and quivering—she's so close, so fucking close to cumming—and your body responds, your cock thickens, your strokes powerful, purposeful. "I can't—I can't—baby, please—please—please—"

"You're going to cum for me now, aren't you?" You ask, like it's a question, like you can't see the tension building in her body, can’t see how she's holding her breath and gritting her teeth—it's so fucking obvious she's about to explode.

"Yes—yes—I'm about to—about to—FUCK! I can't fucking take this anymore!"

You take her by the throat—twisting her face so you can see it—you need to see it—need to see the moment she breaks for you. "Look at me," you demand—her eyes rolling up to meet yours, all teary and flawless and beautiful— "look at me when I make you cum."

"God yesssss," Chaewon gurgles, shivers, quakes, "please—please—I'm cumming—I'm cumming— I'm cumming on your fucking cock—OH FUCK!"

Your name leaves her lips in a long, symphonic, slurred cry—and she cums—not in that lovely, beautiful way you've seen her orgasm dozens of times before—this is overpowering, consuming, violent—a million tiny deaths—one magnum opus—sculpted by the Gods and utterly ruined in all ways possible, reduced once again to nothing but a mess of quivers and mewls and moans—pushed over the edge by your cock, forcing her to gush down her thighs.

She's clenching and wringing and doing everything she can to bring you with her—"God—so fucking good—I’m cumming so hard—GOD! I just need—I want it—please give it—give me your cum—fill me with it—do whatever you want to me just give it to me!"

Her eyes are open again—she's inflicted with the same curse as you—she needs to see it, see the look in your eyes as you fill her, finally claim her in her entirety as yours, finally join and become undone in the same preciously brutal ways.

"Keeeep going—cum in me—cum in me—" It’s becoming a mantra now—three short words—as if there was any other option, as if she had any choice. As much as you want to hold on, to drag this out, to savour every second of this chaos—fucking her silly, viciously, tight pussy choking your cock, she won't stop, refuses to— "cum in me—cum in me—cum in me -"

"You want it? You need it? Does your cunt need my cum?"

"Y-yes, please—fuck—fill me up—fuck me up—fill—me—fucking—PLEASE!"

She's a vision, a goddess, she's yours, she's—"Fuck, Chae, god-fucking-take-it!"—she's taking your cum like the fucking slut she is.

God, it feels dizzying, a high so perfect it must be illegal, making your vision dark and your ears ring—the only thing tethering you to the Earth itself is the feeling of her burning hot cunt, the cunt you're fucking like its only purpose in this world is to make your cock feel good.

You’re speeding towards the final stretch now—hard and rough and somehow lasting forever but ending far too soon. Nothing matters except for her exceptionally tight hole, taking you—all of you, everything you have—and you’re clinging onto her—her tits, her throat—you’re bruising and choking her, your body crushing her into the bed, and she's still screaming your fucking name like she's so damn grateful to you for treating her like she deserves.

And then, you let go.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my fucking God," Chaewon groans, "It's so much—you're filling me up— oh, fuck, oh, fuck, OH FUCK!"

It’s a car crash, a pressure valve opening, it’s too fucking much—you can’t hold back—she can’t possibly take anymore.

It burns through you both—the first, the second, the third—rope after rope after rope of cum firing into her sore, well-fucked cunt, filling it completely to the brim. All the lust, all the tension, everything, all at once, released at once in a tidal wave of white into Chaewon's swollen, sopping wet pussy.

“SO GOOD—SO FUCKING FULL!”

One final thrust—one shared cry—like nothing you’ve ever felt before—like you’re being torn apart and reassembled, piece by piece—and you collapse into her, your bodies melting into one— boneless and shaking in the aftermath of it all.

Chaewon’s cumdump of a pussy is still twitching around you—still begging for more, milking your cock even though it’s already given everything it can, every drop it has—making it impossible for you to pull out without feeling like you're leaving a part of yourself behind.

Eventually—when the numbness subsides and you're able to move again—you slide off her, onto your side, slipping your spent cock out of her well-fucked pussy. It's an image that you burn into core of your brain—her ass in the air, your cum dripping from her, the puddle of you leaking from her glistening folds and pooling on your ruined bedsheets.

"So good... so good..." Chaewon's slurring, drifting—fucked out of consciousness—already lost in some blissful, post-orgasmic dream.

That's where you follow her, exhaustion seeping into every bone in your body, and you're slipping down, down and away into that heavenly oblivion.

-

When you awake, Chaewon's curled into you—your chest is her pillow, your arms her blanket. She's still (thankfully) naked—your cum drying on her thighs, and she's awake, lazily drawing circles with her finger around your heartbeat.

"Hey," you say, kissing the top of her head, getting her attention.

She looks up at you—God, she's so fucking beautiful—a soft smile on her lips. "Hi."

"That was..." You dare to start, but the words catch in your throat.

"Perfect," Chaewon finishes for you, "so fucking perfect."

"Are you sure? I got lost in the moment there, Chae, I—" The ghost of an apology is on your lips, but Chaewon's eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over your mouth.

"Don't," Chaewon stops you, "don't ruin it with an apology. I wanted that. Needed it. More than I thought, I guess. It was amazing."

You look down at her, so small in your arms, searching her face for any hint of doubt or regret, but all you can find is perfect contentment.

And she's smiling, so sweetly, so happily. So Chaewon. The slutty cum dumpster, the adorable princess—the woman of your dreams.

She’s giggling still, tracing wider patterns on your chest, her breath warm against your skin. "You were incredible," she presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. "I never knew you had that in you."

"I didn't either," you admit, stroking her hair, looping strands between your fingers. "I had no idea how much I'd like it—how good it would feel. I mean I love getting to hold you like this—hugging you and kissing you, but—"

"It's nice to not have to treat me like I'm made of glass, isn't it?" She finishes. A beat passes, before Chaewon tables her final request. "You know, that thing you called me, while we were..."

Her voice trails off, and she's blushing now—the kind of blush that makes you want to kiss her, kiss it off her cheeks, kiss her until she's blushing all over again. "I think I called you a lot of things that probably shouldn't be repeated outside of this room." You say, and she’s laughing, slapping your chest lightly.

"You know what I'm talking about," she says. "Call me it again. Please? Can you?"

You laugh, bending down so you can steal a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

She's pouting, doe-eyes wide and hopeful—so Goddamn adorable—and you can't resist, after all—it's always best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants.

"My good girl," you murmur into her ear, "my perfect little slut."

[bluemari23]

remember our touch || bangtan

summary: you try to push away your bad memories and your soulmates help you replace them with good ones.

pairing: idol!bts x reader

genre: soulmates, soulmarks, soulbands, angst, fluff

warnings: past depressed reader, bad memories, bad family, insecurities, anxious reader,

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

---------------------------

You remember feeling so lonely, watching all of the couples in your family get together, dancing under the moonlight as another love song comes on through the speakers. Every wedding you could remember, after you were old enough, you always wondered if you would every find your soulmate, the person you were destined to be with. 

Your soulmark showed up when you were twelve; you even remember the exact moment. You were in your advanced world history course, learning about the fall of the Ottoman Empire and the specific impact it had on North Africa when you felt the immense burning on your left forearm, directly under your palm over your main artery. 

You remember crying out in pain, a sob breaking past your lips as you fall back into your chair, toppling back and hitting your head on the ground. You remember your classmates trying to help you, but your teacher’s words held everyone back. 

“It’s the soul burn initiating.” You remember freezing, despite the burning pain, and moving your hand away from your forearm, only for a line of foreign letters to stare back at you, blacker than the night sky without stars shining down.

The intensity with which you stared at your soulmark was nothing compared to the loneliness you began to feel as more than one line of letters began to appear, the burning intensifying until you promptly fainted from the pain. 

Then you woke up in the hospital, hooked up to fluids and receiving a visit from a Soul Specialist who specialized in multiple soul bonds. She was there to comfort you, to give you pamphlets and tell you how they identified your soulmarks to be Korean, that you were likely the youngest, given the intensity of the soul burn you felt when your marks came in. 

You were a rarity, having multiple bonds. Three bonds were an uncommon occurrence, but having seven was a one-in-a-million statistic. Your mom was handed a card with her number on it, in case you felt anymore burning in your marks, or if one of them disappeared, which you wouldn’t know the significance of until you were nearly 16. 

You remember the looks of disbelief changing to looks of disgust as you grew older. The way some family members would tell you that you didn’t deserve that many people to love you. That you weren’t important enough for it. And you remember the way your mother would defend you despite everything. 

And you remember how she was the one to push you to find your soulbonds when you turned eighteen, fresh out of high school from your small little mountain town. It would take you another almost six years before you were able to meet them, the burning in your arm leading you to them; the black, slowly turning, silver soulmarks the closer you were to them in proximity. 

You remember your first glance at two of them, in a shopping mall of all places. You didn’t get a glance at their faces, only at the way they also clutched their forearms, panic and alarm shown through their eyes as they looked down at you clutching your own in pain. 

It would take another day for you to meet the rest of your soulmates and activate your bond. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you stared up at the faces of BTS, your soulmates, in the middle of their living room after you were taken home from the hospital after fainting at the touch of your first soulmate. 

That was over two years ago and nothing could have made you happier than the way they looked at you; so much love and adoration in their eyes. You never would have thought you would meet them, but now you wish you looked for them sooner. 

-*-*-

You couldn’t help but to stare down at the invitation again, lost in your memories of the last family wedding you went to with your mother before she passed away. You sat towards the corner of the room, against the wall as you watched the DJ play another love song and asked for all the “lovely soulbonds” in the room to get up and dance. 

You were in the middle of the deepest depression you had ever experienced and couldn’t fight the amount of loneliness and despair you felt after coming back from yet another discussion of why your soulmates wouldn’t want you by one of your random great aunts. Your grandma had come and sat with you, held your hands and made you cry all in one sentence. 

“Your soul was split into eight because the fates new how much love you had to give.” 

That was the first time your view on your soulmates had changed, that you felt worthy of the names imprinted on your skin. 

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Jimin’s asked as you felt his arms wrap around your middle, leaning his chin on your shoulder after giving a soft kiss to your neck. 

“Just thinking about the last time I went to a wedding.” You whispered, still caught in your memories. Your soulmates new all about your history of depression and didn’t treat you any differently because of it. 

In the words of Taehyung, “That just means we are meant to be there for you and give you all the love you deserve.” 

And they did, every second of every day. 

“Well, this time, you need to make time for seven soul dances, don’t you?” You could practically feel the grin on his lips as he kisses your naked shoulder, his hand messing with the top of your towel. 

“Jimin, we don’t have time to mess around right now. Our lovely little soulmate needs to finish getting ready, as do the rest of us. We only have about an hour before we need to leave.” Namjoon makes his way in from the bathroom, catching you and Jimin by the dresser. 

“Yes, Sir.” You and Jimin’s voices mesh together, mischievous looks aimed at your older soulmate knowing what the title does to him. The look in his eyes only lets you know just what punishment you were going to receive when you got back to the hotel later. 

Once everyone was ready, you made your way downstairs to the reception hall, decorated in light blue and white almost resembling what Cinderella’s wedding would resemble. You held Jin’s hand as you walked up to the small table by the entryway, folded pieces of paper organized on the table with names and table numbers. 

Your table was just you and your boys, the eight of you found yourself in the almost front and center, feet away from the long table where the bride, your cousin, and her soulmate would be sitting with their wedding parties. 

You knew why. Despite your family’s belief before you found your soulmates, once they found out you were bonded to seven extremely famous and rich men, their views changed. Now you were the favorite cousin, favorite niece. The one they always called when something went wrong and they needed money. 

“We could always just kidnap your grandma and go have dinner somewhere nice.” Jungkook leaned over and whispered in your ear, holding your hand so that you didn’t continue to pick at your nail beds. You didn’t even realize they were bleeding until he held them, using one of the napkins from the table to gently wipe the blood away. 

The boys, despite only meeting your grandma a couple of times, fell in love with her the moment they met. She had slapped Jimin with her purse when he didn’t pull your chair out for you. Apparently, all the boys needed was to see Jimin get hit before they loved someone. 

“Yeah, baby. Just say the words. Or even hit Jimin with your purse.” That earned Yoongi his own slap from the offended man. 

As nice as that sounded, dinner with the loves of your life and your beloved grandma, you knew you needed to be here. Even if you may not have wanted to come in the first place. You needed at least one good memory from a wedding that wasn’t your own. You needed to fight your own anxiety and bad memories. 

You needed to create new ones. 

Jungkook and Hobi both held your hand as the ceremony proceeded, squeezing every so often when your own grip tightened with anxiety. Weddings were a source of anxiety for you as it was the one place where all your depressive thoughts stemmed from. Just having them here, holding your hands and whispering sweet things into your ear was already a huge help to you. 

The real anxiety inducing moment was when the ceremony ended and the reception started, giving your family the perfect moment to rain down comment upon comment about your soulbonds. 

“You know, we used to think her marks were drawn on.”

“I told her before that she would never meet her soulmates and now look at her!”

“We always used to joke that her soulbond was a prank by the fates. I mean, seven soulmates. That never happens.”

“It’s a good thing her marks were real, or she’d be alone after her mom died.” 

That last comment was the last straw for you and your soulmates. Your older cousin, even if only by a couple of months, was always the one who started the jokes about your soulmarks. Even once dousing your arm in alcohol to “reveal the skin underneath”. 

You could vaguely hear the DJ announcing a soul dance and then the soft beat of another love song when Yoongi’s cold voice broke through his scarily calm demeanor. 

“Don’t ever speak about her mother again. Our soulmate has been through enough without you bringing in her mom as an offhanded comment.” Despite English being his second language, he was surprisingly good at coming up with amazing comebacks and defensive statements. 

“Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to go and dance with our lovely soulmate and shower her with the love and affection her family should have shown her.” Jungkook finished Yoongi’s words, his piercings and tattoo’s coming off incredibly intimidating to your religious cousin. 

Taehyung led you onto the dancefloor first, right on the edge where your soulmates could stand next to you both. He cupped your cheeks, holding you close as he wiped away your slow-falling tears. 

“None of that. I want your next memory of a wedding to be a beautiful one, filled with the love of your soulmates. I want you to remember our touch, how we held you close and sang into your ear.” Taehyung was passionate in his beliefs, and it was hard to shake his mind when he believed in something, no matter how powerful that belief was. It was one of the reasons you loved him. 

You spent the rest of the reception being held and twirled on the edge of the dancefloor, experiencing the love you always dreamed of and wished for in the past. The touch of your soulmates keeping you grounded and reminding you what love was supposed to feel like. 

[jjunieworld]

BLACK STOCKINGS ˒˒ 강태현

it's a very delicate game of cat and mouse that you and taehyun play. he pretends that he calls you into his office to assign you more paperwork, and you pretend that you don't test the limits of how short your skirt can be until he notices the lace of your thigh-high stockings peeking out.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ kang taehyun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 none!

genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ smut, coworkers to ???, office au

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ boss!taehyun, assistant!reader, taehyun kindaa takes advantage of his position, unprotected sex (don’t!), creampie, office sex, a hint of mean dom!taehyun, some manhandling, name calling (slut)

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ saw an edit and i just had to make a little (or not so little) drabble inspired by it lmao… i hope you enjoy! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 1k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

a sly smile played on your face as your boss, mr. kang taehyun, called you to his office. you had walked into the building with a less than appropriate outfit—button down shirt unbuttoned just enough to show your cleavage and skirt short enough that if you were to bend over you would see the lace of your thigh-high black stockings.

you were purposefully trying to catch his attention, and it seemed like your efforts had worked. the two of you had been sleeping together for months now, and day by day you got more and more bolder. you grabbed the folder full of paperwork you were meant to give him and knocked on his office door. you heard a “come in!” from the other side of the door and pushed it open.

“close the door behind you and take a seat,” taehyun said without looking up from the papers he was writing on. you glanced around his office, particularly at the closed blinds on the glass that separated his office from the rest of the building, and walked towards his desk. you dropped the folder on top of the paper he was writing on and sat on the edge of his desk, your crossed legs making your skirt raise so that the lace was even more on display.

you leaned towards him slightly, same sly smile on your face, “you have a meeting in an hour with the shareholders.” taehyun’s eyes trailed up your figure slowly, stopping for a moment at your stockings and the sliver of your thighs that were exposed. when his eyes finally met yours, they were lust filled. a smirk crept onto his face and he laughed dryly.

“cancel it,” he stated and leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you. “tell them i’ll be busy.”

your eyebrows rose and you tutted, “they won’t be too happy about that…” from the look on taehyun’s face you could tell he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. he pushed his chair away from his desk and patted his lap. shaking your head and rolling your eyes, you got off of his desk, the “clack!” of your heels sounding through the room as you rounded it.

placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you lifted your leg over his lap and straddled him. taehyun’s hands came to rest on your ass and his dark hair fell into his eyes as he looked at you. “you think you’re so fucking slick, don’t you?” he asked you lowly, his jaw grinding slightly. you laughed at him.

“you know what? i do!” you smiled as you grinded down onto him, pretending that you were adjusting how you were sitting. his eyes squeezed shut for a moment and his grip on your ass tightened. “but you’re the boss, what do you think?” you added, voice coming close to his ear teasingly.

taehyun hummed, saying nothing as he stared at you for a minute. he then stood from his chair with you wrapped around his waist and pushed you down onto his desk. papers flew off his desk and various pens and books toppled to the ground as you grabbed onto the edge of the desk for support. taehyun’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands at the sides of your head to pin you to the desk.

you wrapped your legs around his waist tighter and snaked your arms around his neck to pull him closer. he moved to push your skirt up and to unbuckle his belt. “i think…” taehyun trailed off at the shell of your ear. he pushed your soaked panties to the side. “…that you’re a naughty slut,” he finished, his fingertips trailing up your thighs and hooking onto the lace of your stockings.

taehyun moved your legs so that they were now resting on his shoulders. you chuckled at him, the laugh lasting no more than a second until you were gasping and gripping his shirt from the way his large cock was stretching you out suddenly. taehyun held your hands above your head on his desk as he pushed in and out of you at a rapid pace.

shallow moans escaped your mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut from the pleasure. the desk shook underneath the two of you, no doubt knocking more things off. “what possessed you to come into the office like this?” taehyun asked lowly, pulling you off the desk. his lips met yours briefly before your back arched and you broke away from him.

“t-this,” you stuttered, looking at him and managing a grin. taehyun shook his head, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards, and pulled you off the desk. he spun you around and then bent you over it, pushing one of your legs up onto the desk. taehyun slid inside you, the new angle making you cry out.

soon, you felt the knot inside you get tighter and tighter until the rope snapped completely and creamy white spilled out of you. you whimpered, head falling into your arms weakly when taehyun’s pace didn’t slow in the slightest. you knew he wasn’t going to stop until he came too.

“shh,” taehyun cooed in your ear as he wrapped his big arms around your waist and pressed you back into him. his skin slapped lewdly against yours and wet squelching sounds filled his office. if you hadn’t just cum, it would’ve turned you on more. “shh, my pretty slut. you don’t want the rest of the building to hear you, do you?”

taehyun’s cock twitched inside you and just as quick you were being filled to the brim with ropes of cum. taehyun moaned loudly and pressed his forehead to your back, lazily stroking into you as he chased his high. the two of you were breathing heavily when he finally pulled his softened cock out of you.

you turned around, a proud smile creeping onto your face, and kissed him deeply. his mouth was stained pink from your red lipstick, which was no doubt smeared. you fixed your panties and skirt, your face scrunching up slightly.

taehyun’s hands found your hips and pulled you towards him, “i should make you walk around with my cum dripping down your thighs.” you just laughed at him.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @yeonjunsfox @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @jeonghaniehaee 

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ]

[octoberautumnbox]

The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice. 

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt. 

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up. 

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment. 

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face. 

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up. 

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth. 

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well. 

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point. 

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze. 

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair. 

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair. 

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful. 

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control. 

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same. 

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out. 

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night. 

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night. 

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots. 

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?” 

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it– I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs. 

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you. 

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat. 

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker. 

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more. 

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense. 

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement. 

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp. 

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love. 

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much. 

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile. 

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in. 

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you. 

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives. 

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can. 

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either. 

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video. 

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it. 

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one? 

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy. 

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her. 

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours. 

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie. 

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close. 

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse. 

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion. 

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…” 

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you. 

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears. 

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask. 

[revasserium]

Can I request any windbreak characters (headcanons) of your choosing reacting to their s/o ending up in the hospital beacause if a rival gang targeting them?

reqs are open!

the beautiful and damned

sakura, suo; 911 words; fluff, slight angst, implied bodily harm, lapslock, no "y/n", hurt/comfort kinda i guess?, very!drabble, suo being... suo

a/n: sry i only did sakura and suo... currently i've only got the muse for these two tho i did consider tossing umemiya in there lmao; maybe next time...

falling backwards — sakura

it can take the body up to twenty-minutes to cycle through an average fight-or-flight response though he’s always prided himself in staying for the fight.

seeing you in the hospital bed for the first time was a masterclass in the concept of flight — or rather, in falling. of the ground crumbling beneath him, of his stomach going momentarily weightless before sinking and sinking, of his lungs calcifying inside his chest till it physically stings to breathe.

“i’m alright,” you say, waving him off, but for the first time, his knee-jerk reaction isn’t to punch something — it’s to topple into the chair by the door and bury his face in his hands.

“you’re alright…” he says, his mouth forming around the words like learning to speak for the very first time, and then again, “you’re alright.” the says the words like a prayer answered, like exaltation, like a promise to himself made and broken and mended back again.

you cast him a wide smile, though he doesn’t miss the way you wince and your hand jumps up to the bandage wrapped around your forehead.

“it really looks worse than it is… i just got scratched so they had to bandage up my head but the wound was really shallow so —”

he makes his way over to your bedside and tugs you into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the harsh, florescent light of the hospital room. for a second, your voice is muffled against his shirt but then you go quiet in his arms, you go soft, and there’s a terrifying moment when he wonders if he’s held on too tight —

“sakura?”

“you’re… alright.”

he slumps down on the bed next to you, reaching for your hands. you let him take them, let him study them. there are a smattering of bruises along your arms, but nothing’s broken, no lasting damage. he leans down to press his forehead to the backs of your hands; you feel the heat simmering beneath his skin, stark and startling against your cool fingers.

“yeah. i’m alright. and… you’re okay too,” you say, flipping a hand over to cup his face, to lift his head up to meet your gaze. he nods, slowly, leaning into your touch.

“yeah… i think i will be.”

here are the monsters — suo

there are a few things suo hayato knows to be true: he’s a good fighter, even one of the best in the freshman year, that green tea should be brewed at 75 to 80 degrees, and that whoever did this will pay.

“tell me who did this.”

his voice is light, almost conversational, and nothing in his expression betrays the bright red fury curdling just beneath the thin veneer of his calm. you eye him warily, and he smiles sweetly, cocking his head to one side as he waits for your answer.

“hayato…”

“hm?”

you sigh, leaning back in your hospital bed and crossing your arms.

“if i tell you, promise you won’t go looking for a fight.”

suo pauses, considering your words, tallying them against his internal list of truths — he knows of the terrible risk of loving someone more than yourself, of the secret strength it grants you. he knows terror too, the kind that seems endless and dark and ever-expanding, a black hole of nothing that threatens to consume him when he’d first heard that you’d been hurt bad enough to warrant a night in the hospital.

but beneath that terror is something else — something with flashing teeth and shining claws that he does not have a name for but has felt flickering there for his whole entire life.

this is the monster, he thinks, that lives in us all.

the minotaur in the middle of the maze of self.

hungry and lonely and howling for blood.

“fine. i promise,” he says, putting his hands up.

you blink at him for a few seconds before your eyes narrow once more. you know him, and you know him almost too well.

“hayato, what aren’t you telling me?”

“i’ll tell you if you tell me who did this.”

after another second’s pause, you sigh and list off a few names — the perpetrators to this great crime. kids, too, from another school’s gang.

“it’s par for the course, isn’t it?” you say, your voice tightening slightly as suo nods and gets to his feet. he takes his time, stretches, leans down to drop a sweet kiss into your hair, “i knew what i was getting into when i agreed to date you so…” your voice trails off as suo makes for the door, humming lightly.

“where’re you going?” you ask.

he pauses by the door, “for a walk and… maybe a friendly chat with some kids at the school the next county over.”

“hayato! you promised you wouldn’t go looking for a fight!”

at this, suo’s expression shifts ever so slightly. it’s in the slant of his mouth and the sharpness of his eyes, the way his voice is smooth as starlight but his words have all their vowels seeped in cyanide —

“oh i’m not going looking for a fight… but you see, the second they put a hand on you, the fight already found it’s way to me.”

---

@houseofsolisoccasum

[luveline]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—

"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 

"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 

Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 

The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 

"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 

Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 

"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"

"You could–" 

"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 

"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 

You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 

Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."

Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 

Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 

Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 

"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 

"That's never good." 

"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 

"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 

You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 

Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 

"You won't die." 

"How do you know?" you ask. 

"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 

"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 

"You brought it on yourself." 

You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 

"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 

"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 

"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 

He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 

"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 

He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.

"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 

"And do what?" 

You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 

Why there? 

Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 

Forget I asked. 

He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 

"I could help with the task force." 

"That's what you want to do?" 

You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 

"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 

"I could help you?" you offer. 

Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 

"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 

You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 

His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.

You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 

Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 

"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 

"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 

"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.

You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.

He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Seeing Red

What else is there to say about the thorough-paced scoundrel that aches to behold my demise than how blood curdling the sound of Gwayne Hightower is?

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fluff, reader kinda violent lmao, typos, etc.

A/N: inspired by this anon i got <3. Guys i made Part 2

"Are you writing about me again?"

I sigh. Thus, the ambiance is the garden is now wretched.

I look up from my journal, watching the ghastly miscreant, dressed in a horrid shade of green walk over to me. It's a wonder my teeth has not broken with all the times I've clenched my jaw at the sight of him. I lean into my knees and grab my shoe. I send it flying to him in a fit of annoyance.

Curse my aim for endlessly failing me.

Gwayne Hightower cocks his head from side to side after he dodges my assault. He puts on his irritating grin as he reaches for the grapes on the tiered dessert stand beside me. I swat him away but even that, he evades. His smug expression remains as he chews, "the carriage is ready now."

I shut my journal and bind its ties. I stand from my seat, lifting my foot, "fetch my shoe, dog."

He takes a bonbon and licks his fingers, "you are more than well-abled to fetch your own smelly shoe."

I rest my shoeless foot on my chair, "you dare insult and defy your lady?"

"Oh, but I see no lady," he knits his brows and pouts, "only a puerile, little girl," he stuffs his rubbish mouth with my sweet dessert.

"That isn't for your consumption, you swollen ignoramus."

He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. I make a face at the sight of the chewed up food. He shrugs and licks his lips, "you're more than welcome to pry it out of my mouth."

I try to swat him with my journal, but he steps back before I can. He watches me, bemused that I cannot follow, as I am unwilling to step my foot on the ground.

One of the maids pass. I point at her, "Abigail! Get my shoe."

She turns to me and nods, "yes, milady."

I watch as she scurries off to get my shoe from the grass where it landed. She grabs it and sprints over. Gwayne dusts off his hands, turning to her. He silently reaches a hand to Abigail and she bows, handing him my shoe.

When she walks away, the idiot walks over. He and I stare at each other for a moment. I roll my eyes at him when he licks his lips. I try to grab the shoe from him, but he moves, raising it over his head.

I chuckle dryly, "and I'm the puerile, little girl?"

Gwayne gives a lopsided smile and tilts his head back. Oh, how infuriating his dimples were.

My blood boils and I grip my skirt tightly. Before I am able to hit him with my journal, he drops down to one knee and takes my ankle.

My stomach drops and I gasp, nearly toppling back in shock. My hand comes to his shoulder too keep myself up, "Gwayne-"

"Hush, cub," he mutters, eyes not leaving my face. I stiffen as he slowly pushes my skirts up to my knee. His hand rubs my stocking-clad leg, and goosebumps erupt on my arms in response. My lips part as he slips the shoe on my foot, "you and your whining."

I pull my journal to my chest, feeling my heart thunder.

"Perhaps I should give you something to whine about."

My pulse skips when he kisses my shin. I feel my body burn.

He pulls my skirt down then abruptly stands. He places his hands behind his back and examines my face. I watch the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. In turn, I miss the way the corner of his lips quirk, "you look dull when there are no thoughts behind your eyes, dear."

I am immediately snapped out his my trance. The grin that spreads on his face enrages me. Without hesitation, I lift my foot off the chair and stop my heel to his foot.

Gwayne screams and lurches forward. He grabs me as he raises what I assume is his throbbing foot. I smile happily at him, yet a whine leaves me when he squeezes my arm too hard. I wrangle out of his grip and shove him away.

He leans on the chair for balance, and I quickly find my smile, "oh, come now, ser. You find yourself so easily defeated."

His only response is his pained sounds.

"The carriage is ready. We must not delay."

I walk away. Gwayne watches. He shakes his head and rubs his foot, mumbling to himself, "a dirty game for a dirty girl."

[onyxdaze]

Goodnight

Sebastian x f.Reader

Sebastian has a crush on you.

minors do not interact ~ 18+ content

You hiccupped. The smell of cinnamon and nutmeg on your breath, and your body warm to the touch thanks to Robin’s spiked eggnog.

“You, okay?” Penny’s voice was sweet and thick like syrup. The lull in her speech let you know she had enjoyed Robin’s brandy-infused concoction too.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, your thoughts hazy and your cheeks flushed. Penny held out a wet plate for you to dry. The wide, round ceramic dish thinned as she laid it flat in her grasp and passed it to you. You took it, dried it with the dishcloth bunched in your hand and set it aside on the counter.

“Thanks for staying to help clean,” Maru spoke while swaying a broom across the wooden floors. She paused next to Penny and kissed her cheek.

“Oh,” Penny giggled and held her small hand against her coral lips. You peered over at the rise and fall of Penny’s shoulders as she giggled for way too long, and you realized you had never seen the mild-mannered bookworm this drunk.

“Yeah, no problem—hey, thanks for inviting me,” you smiled politely and dried your hands with the cloth in your hands. Penny and Maru shared a prolonged, lustful glance. Their eyes round and glazed with devotion. You took it as your cue. “I should probably go.”

“No,” Penny grunted, belligerent. She latched onto your arm before being overtaken by another fit of giggles. When she realized what she had done, she let go of you and took a step back, nearly toppling over. But Maru held out her arms and steadied Penny before leaning the broom against the kitchen counter.

“I think you should lie down,” Maru guided Penny toward her bedroom in the same way Demetrius had done for Robin only an hour ago. You watched Maru cart Penny away. Penny’s feet drumming on the floor as she stumbled. The two disappeared into the hallway and left you alone in the kitchen. A wave of loneliness washed over you and pressed down your chest. You had been chronically single since you’d moved to Pelican town—and as much as you loved seeing your two friends happy—it made you feel even more alone at times.

You peeled your winter coat off the back of a kitchen chair and fitted your arms into the sleeves.

“Heading out?” Maru stood in the doorway while you buttoned up your coat.

“Yep,” you looked over your shoulder to glance at her and stuffed your hands in your coat pockets.

“I’ll walk you out,” Maru turned her back to you and you followed her. “Sorry about Penny,” Maru examined you briefly, “she didn’t realize the eggnog was spiked.”

“She’s fine,” you shrugged and smiled, “weird seeing her drunk though.” A quick loud laugh jostled Maru’s body.

“It is weird,” you peered at Maru’s shiny painted lips as she spoke. A small silence passed. “So,” Maru drawled, “meet anyone…nice?”

A rush of warmth gathered in your face and Maru stopped walking to stare at you. A photo of Robin holding a tiny version of Maru hung on the wall next to Maru’s head. You looked away from Maru’s shining eyes and continued down the hall.

“Er,” you sighed, “no.’

The two of you stood in front of the entrance to Robin’s shop.

“Oh,” Maru sounded disappointed, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had failed her in some way. “Really? I thought you might—”

“It’s fine,” you drew a dash in the air with your hand, “you don’t have to set me up.”

“I know,” Maru mumbled while you clutched the doorknob and gave it a twist.

You could not wait to get home.

But as soon as you opened the door, you heard the whirring of strong winds and looked down to see the ground piled high with snow. A heavy gust slammed the door shut and you inwardly groaned.

“Looks like you’re staying,” Maru’s words rang in your ears and played in your mind on a loop.

The last time Maru and Penny had stayed at your house, the two had woken you up in the dead of night. What could only be described as them devouring each other had echoed throughout the farmhouse. You were too embarrassed to tell them you were awake and turned on your side. Away from them. And tried to go back to sleep.  But it was no use, and you couldn’t look either of them in the eye for a week.

This time felt like it’d be worse. Because prior to the symphony of your friends having sloppy drunk sex, there’d be an interrogation. Millions of questions would be asked about what you thought of every guy you had spoken to at Robin’s winter star party. And as much as you loved Penny and Maru, you preferred your warm bed to the hard wooden floor.

“No,” you shook your head from side to side and turned the knob again, but the wind tugged the door shut. No, no, no, no, your thoughts cried while you rested your forehead on the door.

“You alright?” Maru’s eyebrows rose above her curious stare.

“Yeah,” you lifted your head away from the door and released the knob, “I just don’t want to intrude…,” your voice carried, and Maru’s eyes widened. And judging by the splash of pink splattered across her nose and cheeks, you figured she understood.

“I know the floors are a bit stiff,” Maru spoke quickly.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded in agreement, “very stiff.” Maru covered her shoulder with her hand and scratched her purple shirt.

“I guess you could sleep on Seb’s couch.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. You’d spoken to Sebastian a few times, but he wasn’t exactly a talker. And was always eager to excuse himself from conversation. Even at his mother’s winter star party he hadn’t bothered to make an appearance.

“I’ll tell Seb,” Maru’s voice was chipper now. She was visibly pleased with her solution and walked to the basement steps. You held your arms out, as if to stop her. But formed fists when you realized your fate had been decided, and your arms dropped to your sides before catching up to Maru’s stride.

“Seb,” Maru called to him while knocking on his door. There was no response. “I know you’re in there,” Maru’s tone dropped an octave, and it sent chills down your spine. You heard Sebastian groan and the swish of plastic wheels gliding across the floor. You glanced at Maru staring directly at the door as the knob clicked and Sebastian’s face appeared in the small gap he formed.

“She’s sleeping on your couch tonight,” Maru informed him while pointing her thumb at you. Sebastian’s sight trailed away from Maru’s stern expression to you. You feigned surprise. His piercing grey eyes stood out against his ruffled midnight black hair. He chewed his lip and the steel ring that followed the curve of his bottom lip wiggled.

“Fine,” you watched his lip ring move as he spoke. Sebastian blinked, and his long lashes bounced on his smooth skin. You could have sworn he was moving in slow motion. The bass of Maru’s voice seemed to play in the distance, becoming louder until….

“Hey!” you jumped, and time returned to its normal pace. Stunned, you responded with a blank stare and a smirk spread across Maru’s face like wildfire. “I’ll get you a blanket,” her voice wavered menacingly, taunting you.

“I,” you cut yourself off, trying to find a way to deny what had happened while you nearly chased Maru up the stairs.

Sebastian’s lips curled like a pink ribbon. He left the door ajar and went to sit down on his desk chair. Waiting for you.

Maru pulled a quilted blanket from a cabinet in the hallway and passed it to you.

“You know, I wasn’t,” you struggled to explain yourself while Maru laid the folded green quilt in your arms.

“Checking out my brother?” Maru finished your sentence and Penny’s voice flooded the hall. She was groaning Maru’s name as if to summon her.

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that,” you gripped the blanket, digging your fingers into the cloth.

“How would you put it?” Maru teased while the ends of her mouth reached for her ears. And you contemplated if freezing to death in the snowstorm was a better alternative.

“I don’t know what you mean,” your words were followed by a nervous laughter.

“Right,” Maru laughed, and you felt your friend’s eyes burn through your farce. “And technetium is a man-made element.” Your brows lowered and pressed together while you tried to understand Maru’s reference. But you gave up and decided it was another one of her jokes only Penny would understand. You were hesitant to respond.

“Uh, sure?”

“Goodnight,” Maru chuckled and patted the blanket in your arms before following the sound of Penny’s summoning spell.

Sebastian watched you push his bedroom door open, and his heartbeat took the pace of a hummingbird’s wings. Your body language was rigid, and he wondered why you were so uncomfortable.

“Hey,” you whispered, eyes pointed downward while setting the folded blanket on the armrest of his black couch.

“Hey,” he responded, and you jerked your head upwards to see him smiling at you. A jolt of panic and pleasure shocked you. You smiled back, although you felt like it may have been crooked, or not good enough in some way. At least not as perfect as his smile.

“Sorry to bother you,” seated at his desk, Sebastian watched you unbutton your coat as you talked to him. His insides felt like a knot being tugged tightly.

“You don’t bother me,” his response was immediate. Rushed. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and berated himself for being so cringe.

“Are you sure?” you regretted it as soon as you said it.

“I’m sure,” Sebastian laughed, a little too loud. With his elbow rested on the desk, he lowered his head into his hand and stared down at his keyboard to hide his face from you.

Dammit Maru, he cursed her from the safety of his mind. Did she do this on purpose? How did she know?

“If it’s too much I can sleep on the shop floor or something, you know, I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” your words were jumbled as you strung them together in a hurry. Sebastian covered both his eyes with his hands and took a deep breath.

“The shop floor?” Sebastian laughed and pressed his face further into his palms before raising his head away from them.

“Yeah,” the electric shame you felt made your eyes water. “I can go,” you started to gather the blanket back in your arms, but Sebastian stood. His movements were so abrupt his chair flew backwards and almost tipped over.

“No!” he shouted, and you froze. Sebastian felt like he was moving outside the confines of his body. That you could somehow see all the times and ways he had thought of you. The silence that followed was painful. Your timid hands finished taking off your coat and you laid it down on his couch. Eyes wet and your mind spinning.

“Okay,” you crossed your arms and hugged yourself while your eyes bounced around the room. Focusing on anything other than Sebastian.

“How about something to drink?” Sebastian’s fist pulled at the collar of his black t-shirt.

“That’d be nice,” your voice squeaked, and Sebastian nodded before rushing past you and leaving the room.

You loosened your grip on your torso and lowered yourself onto the couch. You looked straight ahead at the small table crowded by three green stools and took deep breaths. In retrospect maybe listening to Penny and Maru get it on was the better choice. You had forgotten how strained every interaction you had with Sebastian was. It was no wonder he wanted to get away from you as fast as possible. You must have ruined his evening.

You picked at the thick hem of the couch cushion and tried not to cry.

Sebastian returned and handed you a large, plastic cup filled with Robin’s eggnog. It was a lot of alcohol, and you were grateful. Maybe if you got drunk enough you could pass out and this night would be done. Surprised, a small groan vibrated in your throat when Sebastian sat beside you, holding a cup that matched yours.

“I didn’t—if you don’t want to hang out,” Sebastian moved to stand. Without thinking, you reached out and snatched a section of his fuzzy plaid pajama pants.

“Don’t go,” your eyes met. Sebastian swallowed hard and sat back down. It took you a second to realize you were still holding onto his pants. You tore your hand away and turned away from him. Facing the green stools again, you took a sizeable sip of eggnog. You were thankful the effect of the alcohol was immediate.

Sebastian wondered if you could hear his accelerated breath. If you had made note of his sweaty palms yet. This is why he couldn’t bear to have any prolonged social contact with you. He couldn’t understand what he ever did to Maru to deserve this. Even if it was what he wanted, this wasn’t one of the many scenarios he had played out in his head.  

“So,” you both stated in unison, turning your heads to look at each other before immediately looking away. You giggled and Sebastian thought he might combust into a million fragments of himself. He imagined you looking on in horror as chunks of his flesh floated in the air.

“Did you have fun at the party?” he blurted. Everything he said seemed to spill from him like he was in a constant state of overflowing.

“Sure,” you grinned dumbly, eyes settled on the frothy white liquid in your cup. “It’s too bad you couldn’t make it,” you joked and took another drink.

“Couldn’t find a ride,” Sebastian shrugged, and you choked on the eggnog in your throat but forced it down. You faced each other again and a flood of warmth washed over you. Your body tingled and your mind was blank while your cheeks felt strained from how hard you were smiling. Your shoulders relaxed, and an avalanche of relief tumbled throughout Sebastian. “But crowds aren’t really my thing,” Sebastian explained, running his hand through his hair. You bit your lip as you watched the tufts of black glide through the spaces between his fingers. His hand rested on his neck while he waited for your response and took a drink.

“For sure, I get that,” your head bobbed up and down for a moment. “Secretly, I’m not really a fan either, but Maru really wanted me to come,” you winked at Sebastian, and he held his next breath hostage for a moment before releasing it.

“Because they keep trying to set you up with someone,” Sebastian spoke without thinking. You stared at him, eyes wide and horrified. And Sebastian wondered if he had exploded. He certainly felt like it would be a good time to do so. “Shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

“Wow.”

“I heard them talking about it earlier,” Sebastian tried to explain himself and squeezed his neck with his hand.

“I wish they wouldn’t,” you murmured, making an executive decision to start chugging the drink in your hand. The cup covered your mouth and you lapped at the eggnog like an errant dog. You were hopeful for the first time tonight—hopeful you could escape the levels of social hell you had endured throughout the night. If not physically, then mentally. You promised yourself you’d never let Maru talk you into another party again. But you knew it was a comforting lie you didn’t have the guts to follow through with.

“I get it,” then Sebastian took a drink too. And you wondered if he too was trying to dig himself out of the hole the two of you had found yourselves in, and if the attempts at conversation he made were out of pity. Even if they were, you felt grateful he’d even bother trying after being imposed on.  

“Really?” your eyes gleamed. Sebastian swallowed a mouthful of brandy with a splash of eggnog and rolled his tongue across the back of his front teeth. So cute, his mind whirred like the strong winds outside his home. She’s so cute.

“Sam and Abby try to set me up all the time,” Sebastian’s eyes averted your gaze and you looked away from him in the hopes of making him feel more comfortable.

“With who?” your curiosity got the better of you.

“Recent? Some girl from the city,” from the corner of your eye you watched Sebastian lift his shoulders to his ears before letting them drop. They seemed heavy. Invested, you straightened your back and leaned closer to him.

“What happened?” You watched him squirm a bit in his seat next to you while holding his cup over his lap with both his hands.

“She said I took too long to text her back,” the pointed tip of his nose twitched, “so I stopped texting her.” And he took a drink. You stared at him for a moment before allowing yourself to be swept up in a dry chuckle. “What?” he scoffed and twisted his torso to set his drink aside on his desk. He reached out and offered to take your cup. You held your hand out and chugged the last of your drink before handing it to him. You let the brandy hammer away at you, pressing your worries further into the depths of your mind until they disappeared.

“What do you mean, what?” you chuckled and laid your palm flat against Sebastian’s arm. Squeezing it before letting go. Thanks to the alcohol, the knot in his stomach wasn’t as tight now, but he still felt it wrench inside him.

Do you think I’m a bad person for doing that? is what he had wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“She wanted me to text her like every hour of the day,” he explained himself, in the hopes you wouldn’t think any less of him.

“Oh,” you beamed, “you don’t have to feel bad about it.”

“No?” he cocked his head to the side and wiggled his lip ring with the tip of his tongue. Mesmerized, you studied the contours of his mouth. Sebastian watched your gaze and realized what you were doing. His lips widened into a playful grin, and your body responded with a growing tightness in your lower belly.  “Are…are you staring at me?” Sebastian leaned his head toward yours and you looked away from him. You covered your face in your hands and titled your body forward. “You are, aren’t you?” he teased and swept his hand across your back. When you didn’t recoil, he lifted his hand and stroked your hair. It tickled the tips of his fingers. You lifted your head away from your hands and held them next to your face.  

“Would you please stop pretending you don’t know how hot you are,” you chanted while waving your hands back and forth.

Sebastian’s head jolted back in surprise and held both his palms against his chest.

“Me?” His mind shook like a cave collapsing.

“Yoba,” you whined, “I’m just going to go die in the snow,” you moved to stand.

“Hey, come on,” Sebastian chuckled while grabbing your hips and giving them a light tug. “Stay here with me.” You plopped back down on the couch. Your words had given Sebastian a rush of confidence—but he was still not entirely emboldened—so he let go of you.

“I always thought you didn’t like me,” you confessed.

Didn’t think I liked you? Sebastian’s thoughts protested. She’s lost her mind. 

“Wha-Why?” he narrowed his eyes and for a moment held his hands out with his palms open.

“This is so embarrassing,” you whimpered, tapping your feet against the floors. You stared up at the ceiling for a minute before looking at him. “I don’t know, it seemed like you didn’t like talking to me.”

Sebastian considered telling you how you had made him too nervous to speak but decided against it.

“I don’t talk a lot,” he explained while wiping his sweaty palm on his shirt.

“I know,” you touched his shoulder briefly. A spark of excitement rippled throughout his body each time you felt comfortable enough to touch him. “I guess I kind of hoped…you’d want to talk to me. I know it’s dumb….”

“This whole thing with Maru—you met someone yet?” Sebastian questioned you, a single brow arched. You gazed at him. Eyes half open. Peering past a dreamy film.

Sebastian decided the only way you could make it any clearer you liked him was if you wrote it in sharpie on your forehead. And he was officially emboldened.

Before you could form a response, he leaned closer. Fear and excitement popped inside you. His hot breath trailed across your face, and it smelled like sweet cinnamon. Too stunned, it wasn’t until you felt the steel of his lip ring mark your bottom lip that you kissed him back. Your insides boiling like a pot of water. Sebastian felt your lips melt against his and was slow to pull away. Your lips peeled apart. With your foreheads pressed, and eyes locked, you could both hear and feel each other’s strained breaths.

Sebastain nodded his head yes and you did the same.

He leaned onto the back of the couch, and you followed his lead. You lifted your leg to sit on his lap, and Sebastian’s hand glided across your thigh, pulling you to him. When the crotch of your jeans hovered above his lap, he grabbed your face with both his hands and pulled you closer. His lips cradled your top lip for a few seconds before he withdrew. Palms latching onto your cheeks, you felt his right thumb stroke your jaw.

It was as if he had been plucked from reality and placed inside a shaken snow globe. Sebastian’s body was warm. Light. His shoulders didn’t feel heavy anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good.

Your hands rested on his chest and crumpled his t-shirt. A desperate attempt to ground yourself in what you had to assume was a lucid dream.

His thumb moved from your jaw to the center of your bottom lip. He pressed the pad of his thumb down and watched it dent your lip. You spread your legs and sank further into his lap, grazing his dick with your crotch.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whined, dragging his thumb down your bottom lip before pulling you into another kiss. This time, he held his tongue out and lightly licked your top lip before covering your mouth with his. He parted his lips, and your lungs were filled with his breath. You pushed your hips even further into his.

While your mouths moved in synchronized movements and his tongue fumbled with yours, Sebastian’s hands dropped to your waist and held you still as he bucked his bulge against your jeans. You severed the kiss. With a flushed face, your eyes begged Sebastian for more. His dick pushed against his pants and ached. He took the opportunity to lift your shirt. You took the hint and grabbed the hem to raise your shirt over your head. Sebastian preoccupied himself with unclasping your bra while your head disappeared behind your shirt before reappearing.

Once he finished freeing the last clasp, he was quick to shimmy your bra away from your chest. And even quicker to grab a breast in each of his hands. He paused and admired the sight of his hands holding your tits. Your nipples poked through the space between his splayed fingers. He leaned over and dragged your nipple across his tongue, until the rounded tip of your tit met the tapered end of his pink tongue. He swirled the tip of his tongue around your sensitive mound of flesh and a tickle of pleasure radiated throughout your body. You wiggled on his lap. Sebastain squeezed his thighs together, desire radiating throughout his shaft and pulsating in the head of his cock.  

You slid your hand down his chest and cradled his bulge in your warm hand. Rubbing the cloth around his erect dick. Sebastian let go of your boobs and grabbed your wrist. Guiding your hand away from his cock, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Take your pants off for me?”

The nod you responded with was eager, and you teetered off his lap to fulfill his request.  

He hooked his thumbs in his boxers and lifted his hips to pull them off alongside his pants. His cock free now, he stroked himself while watching you undress.

Sebastian held the base of his stiff dick between his thumb and his index finger. You looked down at the cough-drop-colored tip slathered in precum and crawled back on top of his lap. You inhaled sharply as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Sebastian sucked his stomach in to get the best view of his dick entering your wet pussy. He chewed on his lip as the girth of his fat cock caused the glossed ruffles of your cunt to split apart. Once he had bottomed out you leaned forward to kiss him and felt his length slip out of your pussy. Sebastian didn’t hesitate to guide his cock back inside you before pushing your hips down. And then up. Setting the pace he wanted, you followed his instruction.

His fingers pressed against your clit, and you recoiled from his touch, pushing your hips away. Causing him to adapt a lighter pressure, he circled the edges around your clit softly. You moaned and bounced on his cock faster. He didn’t bother to stop you as you used his cock.

Soft whimpers were charmed from your lungs despite your desperate attempts to muffle them. The simmer of your desire scorched into an inferno until the ripples of ecstasy swam in your stomach and released you from the fire.

Sebastian came shortly after you and held your waist as he spilled into you.

[moronkombat]

Oh hello! May I have a request about Bi-han , Tomas and kuai Liang reactions to love at first sight?

It was like they walked past Y/N and they just stared at her without blinking and never taking their eyes off her. Until they hit a wall or tripped on the ground or something like that.

Kuai Liang:

The sight of you is unexpected, a chance happening. You not close to him, not at all really. His eyes just so happened to catch you passing between the tables of Madame Bo's Teahouse. Your hair is pinned back but stray and feathery locks betray the ribbon in your hair. You don't see him but he sees you. The tea he about to drink sits in its cup hovering near his lips Slowly his eyes would blink to see if you are really there. You are and by some miracle your eyes connect. The beating in his chest...has it stopped? This second in time feels eternity as he holds your gaze. Your head would turn and soon you are walking to another table to serve. Brown eyes follow you until the sight of you is lost but there it lingers in his thoughts. He leans back into his chair, staring at his steaming tea. Who are you? He will ask Madame Bo for your name but not now. Not while the breath in his lungs still fail to provide

Tomas:

He's walking with Kuai Liang, rather carefree. He'd just had another meeting with Madame Bo and it went well. She had treated him and his company to tea but now it time to return home. Tomas chats up Kuai Liang about something but he stops midsentence, jaw slack and eyes wide. He sees someone, he sees you, picking up a basket that looks too heavy for you and yet you manage. Those grey eyes of his blink rapid and blurred and you and him are walking closer and closer to each other until you pass right next to him. Everything slows, nothing else moves and slowly, from the very side of your gaze, you look to him and he looks at you. Hardly even a second so why does it feel like forever? You step past him but his head follows, watching you from over his shoulder until he collides with a cart and goes toppling into it. Kuai Liang helps him up and when Tomas shakes the hay from his hair he sees you laughing a bit and he smiles. He brushes himself off, waves to you before Kuai Liang ushers him back on their path

Bi-Han:

It is during a meeting with an allied clan that he happens upon you or rather you happen upon him. He stands with arms crossed as someone goes on about the politics of such an alliance. He finds himself growing bored and displeased with the negotiations. Bi-Han's gaze would happen upon the large window and that is when he sees you. There you, bending over to pick up a flower that had fallen from its tree and his lips would part and eyes go wide. Arms go uncrossed and he watches you smile at the seemingly worthless flower before you put it in your hair right next to a shining pin. You are...pretty, he thinks and he doesn't even notice that he now stands by the window, getting a closer view of you. The room has gone quiet as other watch what he is doing but he continues to stare in your direction. There's a hand at his shoulder then, jarring him. His head goes whipped around and someone asks him if he's alright. He gives a stern and rough affirmative and when he turns back to look out the window you are gone and something inside him sinks. Shoulders go rolled back and he puffs out his chest and the meeting resumes. But you never leave his head

[disneyprincemuke]

too young to know it gets better * fem!driver

there has to be someone out there that can snap her out of it, right?

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: HI AFTER THIS THERE's one left and i promise that's not AS angsty as this one and i'm thinking of adding one or two more bonus chapters?? lolsie but idk we'll see!

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

rockster has disconnected.

that’s the notification that had brought logan and oscar together some random afternoon. they stand in the confinements of the elevator in silence, not a single word uttered since they’d met one another in the lobby after sending a simple text out.

but they know what they’re here for.

logan hadn’t moved that fast in concern for her, dating back 3 years ago when mick had supposedly texted him about marrying his crush in vegas. he had sprinted 2 blocks from his apartment building to hers in the span of a couple of minutes.

and oscar had been running errands with lily prior to getting the notification. when she’d noticed her boyfriend staring down at his phone with distress all over his face, she’d immediately pushed him towards the exits to attend to the girl. she’s also a close friend, so she notices.

if you asked oscar, he’s been worried for months. but with her tendency to keep rejecting his initiation for small talk, it’s difficult to try and find the words to try and pry a confession out of her. but this disconnection from an application they’ve had for years raises red flags that they didn’t even know were possible.

“we’re not overreacting, right?” oscar mutters as they step out of the elevator at her floor.

logan nods, lips pressed into a thin line as he counts the steps he takes down the familiar hallway. “she dropped kidnapper off at my apartment like a week and a half ago. i haven’t heard from her since.”

oscar turns to him. “you’ve heard from her?”

“barely,” logan grimaces with a shake of his head, eyes trained on the hallway. “i invited her in for snacks but she declined and left immediately.”

“i haven’t seen or heard from her since the summer break began.”

“she hasn’t been picking up my calls either.” he turns to oscar. “that’s weird, right?”

logan almost wants to laugh at their conversation. if he didn’t consider that their best friend was the person at stake, he would have laughed the loudest he’s ever. they simply sounded like they were answering one another for copium in hopes that their best friend hasn’t lost her mind just yet.

when he unlocks the door to her apartment, they’re taken aback by the sight they’re immediately greeted with. and for logan, it’s whiplash — he’s only ever had fond memories of this apartment. to find it absolutely thrashed almost breaks his heart a little bit.

in his mind, he can hear the girl always scolding him for being messy when they were living together.

the curtains, typically letting the sun seep into the room, are drawn in to block the light out. the floor is littered with her things and there’s a chair toppled over on the ground. a picture frame on the entertainment system beneath the tv is faced down against the counter and if logan can recall perfectly, it’s their picture from when they were kids.

“what happened in here?” oscar mutters, stepping around the items of stray pieces of clothing on the ground. “should we call someone? do you think someone broke into her apartment?”

“let me call her and see if she’s alright,” logan sighs, fishing for his phone in his back pocket.

he hadn’t expected the situation to be so concerning. have they really let her run rampant on her own all this time?

he dials her number, just about to press the call button when a lock clicks and a door opens.

the girl, albeit slightly unrecognisable at first, steps out of her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas, cheeks wet and eyes puffy with her hair in a messy ponytail talling apart on her shoulder.

“who- rocky?”

she flinches back at the voice, catching her off-guard. she sighs tiredly as she pushes her hair out of her face, wiping her cheeks dry on the sleeve of her pyjamas. “what are you guys doing here”

“what are we- when did you get back?” logan tilts his head in confusion. he gestures towards the mess around them, “and what happened? have you been crying?”

she sighs again, eyes fluttering as she turns to look away from them. “you guys should really go. it’s not a good time right now,” she says softly, gesturing them towards the front door of her apartment.

“we can stay and help you clean everything up,” oscar mutters, mirror logan’s stare at the ground, “we’re just curious. you don’t typically let your apartment get this messy.”

“mate,” another sigh comes with her pinching the bridge of her nose, “it’s really not a good time right now.”

oscar’s head snaps up. “are you avoiding us?”

she stares at him tiredly. “what? no, it’s just-”

“you are, aren’t you?” oscar cuts her off, feeling an overwhelming wave of frustration takes over him. months of what feels like a one-sided friendship finally catches up to him.

every single rejection of plans reminds him how neglected their friendship has been, every time she’s ‘forgotten’ to look for an ice cream parlour makes his blood boil. it is such a one-sided friendship as of late and it feels like she’s no longer honouring the years of friendship they have.

“but why? did we do something? did we say something to upset you?”

she slouches her shoulders. she takes a deep breath to recompose herself. “please just go,” she croaks out, feeling a knot in her throat at the realisation of where this entire conversation might be heading. “not now.”

“but what is it? is it us?” oscar frowns. “at least tell us before you start ignoring us.”

she clenches her jaw as her patience runs thin. and she tries to hold on to the last string of patience she has. all these past months, she’s tried her damnest not to be this way to anyone that’s involved in racing.

just to save some face, to show that she’s not completely lost her mind. apart from the fact that they’re all practically colleagues, they’re also her friends.

but as oscar continues to edge her on for an explanation for her behaviour, it’s increasingly getting more difficult to keep her outbust at bay.

“rocky,” oscar calls out to grab her attention. “what is it? i’m so tired of you beating around the bush; if we did something to upset you, speak up. it’s not fair — what you’re doing. you’re cancelling plans, you’re bailing, you’re leaving us hanging… we’ve known each other half of our lives. you can’t just do this.”

logan shifts uncomfortable where he stands. “do you hate us?”

she tries to stop herself, really. but she should be allowed one outburst in her life.

“yes, yes, i actually do!” she admits, venom lacing her words as she starts to explain herself. “it sucks. i’m so fucking jealous of all of you right now. i’ve tried to feel happy for you guys but honestly?” a dry laugh passes her lips, tears falling out of her eyes. “i resent all of the success you’ve found this year.

because you’re doing great and i’m not. it’s annoying because i should be doing great too. because between every single one of us, no one’s worked as hard as i have to get to where i am today. you’re my best friends but i can’t get myself to be happy for you and i hate myself even more for it.”

oscar blinks blankly at her. her chest heaves as she finishes speaking, fists clenched by her side as she starts to cry a little harder.

she’s swallowed down every single drop of resentment she feels towards her friends, all doing well while she’d sunk deeper into the trenches of her own demise.

speaking ill of them that one time they achieved a podium without her haunted her for weeks on end. she couldn’t get herself to speak to them like she hadn’t spent 20 minutes speaking behind their backs about how much she hates that they’re on podiums without her.

“it was easier to avoid you than say things i can’t say.”

it was truly one of the last times she spend with them; the guilt of speaking on them ate her up. she’s apologise out of the blue and they’d have no idea what she was talking about.

admitting it now feels like their friendship would truly never be the same. like this is the one fight that’s been waiting to happen after their years of friendship and would lead to her eventual loneliness.

but she doesn’t expect oscar to start laughing. “are you fucking stupid?”

“excuse me, what?” she scoffs, throwing her head back slightly.

logan sighs next to socar. “come on, don’t be like that. she’s clearly having a hard time right now,” he mutters, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

oscar turns to logan, pointing a hand over to where the girl stand by her bedroom door. “really, logan? you don’t think she’s being so mind-numbingly stupid right now?” he glances at her then immediately looks away. “she’s so insensitive right now. the last thing she should have done is isolate herself but she’s gone ahead and done exactly that.”

oscar huffs and turns back to her with a frown. “you would think that she would fall back on the people who understand her the most. and you still don’t believe she’s being stupid?”

logan sighs again. “oscar.”

“you don’t fucking get it!” she screams.

“we’re the ones who don’t get it? out of everyone you know, we’re the 2 people who understand the most!”

he has a point, she starts to think. but it’s not the same — they’re not the same. their predicaments are different.

they never had to go through and be on the receiving end of words that tried to tear her down as she grew up.

“no, you don’t!” she says with slight amusement. “you’re oscar piastri. everyone’s kissed the ground you’ve walked on; you came into the sport and everyone’s been acting like you’re a prodigy changing the course of the sport. you don’t know what it’s like to be this way!”

“and you thought that pushing away every single person who wants to help you is the solution to your problems?” oscar snorts. then it hits him. “is that why i haven’t seen matt around lately? you drove him away? finally cracked, didn’t he?”

“you don’t know the half of it,” she scoffs. there’s no need for oscar to remind her of the cardinal sin she’d acted upon to drive matt away.

she lives with the repercussions of it every single day: coming back to an empty apartment. just an apartment, a shell of what used to feel like home.

“all of this over a bad couple races?” oscar rolls his eyes and another mean scoff passes his lips. he was unaware how bad it had gotten for her. “how immature. there’s more to fucking life than your position in f1.”

she sucks in a deep breath. “you’ll never understand.”

“oh, i do,” oscar points out with a small grin. “i grew up with you, rocky, i know how you operate. you break down the minute you’re not the best at something. you get scared and hide away when you don’t feel like you’re on the top of your game.”

“what do you know about what i feel?” she tilts her head with a small smile. “that’s so fucking pretentious of you to say so, oscar.”

“you’ve already made it to the top.” he picks his feet up and starts to walk over to her, shoving away logan’s hand that tries to stop him from threading any further. “it’s unnecessary that you’re still this hard on yourself. you’ve proved everyone wrong by making it this far. there are people on your side,” he jabs a finger into her shoulder and she stumbles back, “there are people who miss you- we miss you!

“do you even realise how lucky you have it right now? you’ve got sebastian helping to push your narrative because he believes in you. do you think everyone’s got that luxury?” he points back at logan. “do you think he had that luxury fight for his life in this sport? did that even cross your mind or are you just so far into your head?”

“oscar,” logan repeats. oscar glances back at logan who has his lips pressed into a thin line, unamused by the scenario he’s choosing to bring up. “don’t even go there.”

but oscar ignores him. oscar turns back to the younger girl and grabs her shoulders, squeezing them firmly as he draws a soft sob from her.

“i thought that because you weren’t entirely alone, it was okay that we take a step back and stopped meddling with your life. i thought you were going to be fine; i thought you knew ho to handle yourself and continue to keep your feet on the ground.”

she shakes her head, bottom lip pouted out. “you don’t-”

“i don’t understand?” oscar scoffs. “how far into your head have you gone to push yourself into a corner? do you realise that you’re in the trenches because you put yourself in there? have you looked in the mirror and actually,” oscar shakes her, “looked at yourself?”

and it seems that something finally clicked in her head. she stares blankly up at him, tears finally running down her cheeks. her chest heaves with constant sobs as she no longer can find the words in her head to prove her point.

“okay, that’s enough,” logan mutters, yanking oscar away from the girl. he shoves the younger boy towards the kitchen. “go and get some air and drink some water — you’re scaring her.”

oscar sniffles, wiping his eyes and stumbles towards the kitchen. he spares her one last glare before turning his back on her. “whatever.”

logan can only sigh when he looks down her head. she’s got her head in her hands as she sobs. she lifts her eyes to look up at him and scoffs. “what? do you have something to say to me? about how deranged i’ve gotten?”

“i don’t know what got into you to think we wouldn’t understand how you were feeling,” he says softly, tears flooding his eyes.

it’s difficult to watch someone you think is so strong be half the person you watched her grow into. he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her into a tight hug and rests his chin on her head.

“i’m sorry,” she cries in staggered breaths into his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i didn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he mutters, squeezing her tighter. “we’re here.” he pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a small grin. “we’ve got you, okay? we’re here now.”

she nods through her tears, “okay.”

“we’ve got you, i promise,” logan hums, pulling her in again. he sways gently as he feels her sobs slowly dying out. “you’ll be okay.”

logan turns around at the sound of things shuffling about. oscar has a trash bag in his hand, picking up empty bottles on the ground and throwing them into the bag silently. she pulls her head back and watches oscar slowly navigate her littered apartment.

sensing their stares, oscar glances over his shoulder. “are you going to help me or are you just going to let me do this by myself?”

she glances up at logan with eyebrows raised and in return, he shrugs with a small smile.

for the next 2 hours, they clean up her apartment in silence. no music, not an utter of another word, just a heavy silence pushing down on their shoulders as they shift about her apartment like a well-oiled machine.

oscar throws his dirty piece of tissue into the bin right by the coffee table and sighs, leaning back into the couch he’s sat on. he’s in a single seater while logan and her share the bigger couch.

her apartment finally looks the way they all remember it. pristine with all her things neatly slotted into their respective slots.

oscar hasn’t spoken to her much since he’d gotten the bright idea to start helping her clean the apartment for her. he’d briefly asked her if she wanted pizza for dinner, to which she simply shrugged and said okay, then asked which toppings she wanted. then they returned to their silence.

he picks up her can of pepsi, popping it open before extending his hand over to her. she turns stiffly and looks at his offer with a blank stare. “oh, thank you.”

she takes it into her hands and glances over at oscar who turns away from her immediately to grab logan’s drink next. “i’m sorry,” she says first, just barely above a whisper. her head is dropped slightly, eyes trained on the slicer of pizza in her hands.

truthfully, she’s not very sure how to apologise for her behaviour. while she’s broken down over things said about her and her progress is a sport that barely had a spot for her, it’s never gotten this bad.

she hadn’t even realised that they still cared with their own lives now.

“no, i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, turning his head to her. “that we didn’t foster an environment where you felt like you could come to use and be honest about how you’re really feeling. you did it for me all the time when we first started out and i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.”

“it’s not even your fault,” she sighs shakily. “i pushed away everyone who tried to extend their hands out to me to help. oscar’s right.”

oscar sighs audibly, sinking into his seat. he turns his head to look at her and purses is lips. “i’m sorry i called you stupid,” oscar says, “we grew up together… i just thought that if you didn’t feel right, we’d still be the people you know you don’t have to put up a facade with. be brutally, disgustingly and painfully honest with.”

“i really didn’t wanna worry anybody,” she frowns. “you have your own lives now, you know? i thought i could handle it on my own.”

“don’t even say that,” oscar turns to her with furrowed eyebrows, “you’re practically my little sister — i’ve driven you to the hospital after you writhed in pain from dislocating your shoulder playing volleyball. i’ve beaten up guys from school for you so of course you’ll always have a place in our lives.”

“i didn’t want you to know that i was a sore loser,” she shrugs with a small grin. she gestures towards logan. “he took our first 2 years in the sport so gracefully. it was embarrassing that i couldn’t do the same when it was my turn.”

“what?” logan scoffs. “you seriously think i wasn’t jealous seeing you guys being glorified by everyone? i felt like shit watching you guys get accepted in the sport with open arms and make new friends without me.”

he gives her a knowing stare when she turns her head to look at him. “i lvoe you, but i seriously despised you so much for being better than me at everything. i felt like the smallest man who’s ever lived when i was next to you. and dude… we were always together.”

she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i didn’t know that… i’m sorry…”

“but at the end of the day, you were always there for me,” logan frowns, poking her arm gently. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same level of comfort to not spiral this bad. the only reason i hadn’t was because you were there for me all the time.”

“well i’m sorry that i was so mean to you,” oscar sighs. “but you know you needed it, right?”

“i know,” she shrugs, “thanks.”

“i don’t wanna be the one to bring it up, though,” logan hums as he reaches forward for another slice, “but what happened with matt?”

she chuckles with a soft snort. she lifts her head and puffs her cheeks out. “i wasn’t very nice to him when everything was falling apart,” tears flood her eyes, “he called for a break. but honestly, i think he wants to break up with me.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “he asked for a break, didn’t he? that’s not a breakup, mate.”

“you weren’t there. i wouldn’t want to be with me either if i had to endure what he went through with me,” she admits with a sigh. she wipes her tears away from her eyes and smiles slightly. “i think he’s just trying to soften the blow.”

oscar laughs. he laughs the loudest and heartiest he’s ever since he’d bolted from lily while they were running errands together. “do you seriously think that?”

she blinks at oscar. “i thought we were done being mean to me, mate.”

“we are!” oscar beams, forcing himself to falter with his laughter. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to make you feel worse. but do you seriously think that matt — the guy who’s in your garage every single weekend, literally comes into the paddocks with ice cream for your entire team, texts logan and i to ask about things to surprise you with — wants to seriously break up with you?”

“well, you weren’t there,” she explains with a frown. “well, you were, once when i was crying in the paddocks. but i was so mean to him.”

“but a break isn’t a breakup,” oscar explains as he points at her knowingly. “you were arguably at your worst, i doubt that he wants to leave you when your mental was that bad. it happens, you know?”

“if he didn’t want to be with you, he would have broken up with you instead of asking for a break,” logan sighs, patting her on the shoulder. “just approach him.”

“i don’t know how to,” she admits, sliding down the couch to lie down slightly. “there’s no gesture big enough to makeup for the things i said… the way i treated him…”

“say you’re sorry,” oscar says with a small grin and a nod. “start there and i’m sure you guys can work it out from there, you know?”

“i’ll try.”

“okay, enough with this,” logan throws his head back with a grunt. “let’s go karting!” he stands up and smiles at her widely. “you sound like you need your edge back. i’ll even let you win this time.”

she scoffs, “as if i’d ever lose to you in equal machinery!”

“aw, she’s back! she’s fighting back now!” oscar cheers, hopping up as he claps his hands. “come on! then let’s get ice cream where we always get it! i haven’t been there in forever.”

“okay, okay!” she laughs, watching the 2 of them jump to their feet and start to clear out her table. she feels a warmth in her chest watching them in her living room. “just let me shower, okay? we kinda cleaned a lot tonight. i won’t take less than 15 minutes, i promise!”

there’s a chorus of heavy sighs and arms thrown in the air. “we might as well cancel karting.”

“but you take forever to get ready!” oscar jokes with a frown. “if you pass 15 minutes, you’re paying for ice cream.”

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[storiesofsvu]

Welcome Home

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, minor daddy kink, lots of praise.

Coming home from work had always been a form of relief for Aaron, knowing that his day was done, and he was able to relax at least a little bit before doing it all again tomorrow. But this Friday was different, this Friday not only was it a guarantee that he had two days off, he also wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment. Moving in together had been a very easy decision, he no longer had to worry about making a stop at his place before yours, didn’t have to triple check his go bag was always packed and he got to come home to you already in your shared space, happy as can be.

Almost every night this week he had come home to find you in the midst of an IKEA challenge or putting up some nice decorations. Which is exactly where he found you tonight, standing on a chair on your tip toes pinning up fairy lights over the patio window with your favourite playlist flowing through the room. As he put his things down, stepping out of his shoes and hanging up his blazer a smirk took over his lips at the actual sight in front of him. You’d clearly showered recently and chosen to tug on one of his oversized tee shirts instead of actually getting dressed and it appeared the shirt was all you’d bothered with. Your arms outstretched over your head caused the fabric to rise up, the curve of your ass poking out from beneath it as you secured another pin.

Aaron undid his tie, tossing it to the island as he started to undo his shirt, rolling up the sleeves while he crossed the room. Reaching out his hands slid over the curve of your ass before settling on your hips and he chuckled at the way you jumped, turning around when you felt him press a kiss to the small of your back. You were perched on the highest tips of your toes attempting to continue the chain of lights without toppling off the chair.

“You want some help with that?” He smiled softly and you let out a huff of a laugh.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Looks like you were pretty focused.” He nodded toward the lights, and you laughed again.

“I guess. And yeah, I can’t seem to reach it.”

With one clean swoop Aaron picked you up from the chair, resulting in a squeal escaping your lips before he set you on the ground and placed a kiss to the top of your head. You watched with a smile as he effortlessly stepped up onto the chair and was able to reach the spots you never would have been able to.

“That even?”

“Looks perfect.” You smiled as he stepped down from the chair, your hands coming to cup his cheeks so you could press a kiss to his lips, “thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, taking the chain of lights back from him, “it was just the part above the window I was struggling with. Go grab a drink, relax.” You squeezed as his hand, shifting the chair to the left before you climbed back up on it and he was left to wander down the hallway.

Doing as you suggested he got comfortable, changing into a tee and sweats, tossing his work clothes into the hamper and padding back down to the kitchen barefoot to find you humming along to the music as you continued your task. He found a pack of his favourite beer in the fridge, cracking one for himself and grabbing one for you, placing it on the bookshelf you were beside before he dropped into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

The two of you caught up briefly, talked each other through your day while he scrolled through his phone, though his attention mainly remained on you. Since plugging in the string of lights the room and thus you, were bathed in a nearly angelic glow as you continued to work. Every time you moved the shirt simply dared to show more skin and he knew you could feel his eyes on you by the way you kept shifting, the little glances you’d toss over your shoulder to him with an almost shy grin, your cheeks heating. At one point you bent over to grab another hook from the bookshelf and he felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of your pussy fully exposed to him.

“Careful…” He warned, a playful tone in his voice and you glanced over your shoulder with a quizzical look on your face.

“I know how to use a hammer.” You replied with a laugh, gesturing to all your previous work and he chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before he stood up to cross the room.

“I know…” he murmured, his hands ghosting up your thighs and your breath caught in your throat. One of his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him while the other travelled up your back, tangling in the roots of your hair, “but I do hope if someone else was to be helping you with this you would at least put some panties on.”

“Aaron…” you giggled, swatting at the hand on your hip. “I had actual clothes on when the guy came to install the dryer.”

“Oh so it’s just me you like to tease?” He smirked, his hand leaving your hair so both of them could trace patterns on the back of your thighs.

“Obviously.” You let out a sigh, your eyes beginning to flutter at the way he massaged your skin, hands creeping up higher under the hem of the shirt, just daring to brush your pussy.

“I think the rest of this can wait.” A steady arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the chair once again and he yanked you flush to him, the bulge in his pants apparent against your ass, “now you know just how wild you drive me.”

“Mmhmm….” You nodded, your body relaxing against him, your lips falling open as he started to grope your chest through the thin fabric, pinching your nipples until they were hardened and you were grinding back into him.

“Open your mouth.” His hand softly squeezed around your throat before gliding up and two of his fingers sunk in between your lips.

You sucked the digits deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling around them, coating them with saliva as he slowly thrust them in and out of your lips. With his other hand steady on your hip he backed the two of you up to the center of the living room where the nest of pillows and blankets was still tousled on the ground from your movie night the previous evening.

Aaron’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you let out a whine in protest, one that he chuckled at as he pulled his shirt off over his head. His hands found the hem of your stolen shirt, tugging it up and off, dropping it to the floor.

“Relax honey.” His dry hand caressed at your cheek, “there’s no chance I’m done with you yet.” He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue surging into your mouth and you let out a soft moan into the kiss.

The fingers coated in your spit snuck between your bodies, lazily rubbing at your clit while the other one started to toy with your chest. Cupping the flesh, pulling louder moans from you when he started to pinch at your nipples, flicking at them as they hardened in the cool air. His arm wound around you, hoisting you up just enough that your weight was on him as he squatted and gently dropped onto the pile of blankets and cushions before he lay you down on them. His lips broke free from yours and he left a pathway of kisses down your neck, nipping ever so lightly, pulling a breathy sigh from you.

“Aaron…” you whined, “don’t tease.”

“Never would sweetheart.”

His hands smoothed up your thighs, spreading your legs for him before his fingers found your pussy again. They slid through your folds, coaxing out your wetness, smearing it around your pussy, circling around your clit until your chest was heaving and you were nearly panting. His thumbs slid up your pussy, spreading your lips apart and he could see it fully glistening in the low light.

“Such a gorgeous pussy honey.” He cooed, “and who does this pussy belong to?”

“You daddy.”

“Smart girl too.” He smiled softly down at you watching the way your eyes fell shut when he slid two of his fingers into your cunt. “So wet already… have you been thinking about this all day?” He asked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, “waiting for me to come home and find you indecent? Just so I’d fuck you?”

“Yes…” you breathed back, your hand reaching out in search of his free one, fingers interlacing when you found it, his thumb softly stroking over your knuckles. “Wanted to be all ready for you, surprise you.” You were already finding it hard to focus on your words, your pussy fluttering around his fingers as they stretched you out.

“You’re so good for me sweetheart. So thoughtful.” His fingers curled inside you and your breath hitched in your throat, “making sure I have something so gorgeous to come home to… something so sweet.”

With that he shifted onto his stomach, his tongue lapping up the juices around your opening while his fingers continued to twist and scissor inside you. He couldn’t help but groan over your taste, cock twitching in his pants as he shifted up and his mouth latched around your clit.

“Fuck!” You gasped, your hands threading into his hair, holding his face between your legs and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips as electricity sparked through you.

Aaron’s tongue varied between tracing patterns on your pulsing nub and flicking it with the tip, your fingers scraping at his scalp as the pleasure built higher and higher. He picked up the pressure right as his hand picked up the pace, fucking faster into you.

“Oh Aaron…”

Not wanting to let up he merely grunted against you before humming and the vibrations had you gasping, your pussy pulsating around his fingers.

“M’gonna—” You whimpered, feeling the heat about to burst through your veins and his head nodded, rubbing right where you needed it as his fingers curled up, pressing hard on your g-spot and you cried out, “fuck!” Your hips jolted up off the blankets, thighs shaking around him as he gently fingered you through your orgasm.

“That’s it honey…” he cooed, “so fucking pretty for me. Such pretty fucking sounds.”

Your body still trembled, little whimpers and gasps leaving your lips that were heaven to his ears as the aftershocks crashed through you. You were always so gorgeous when you came for him, splayed out on display, legs spread, pussy dripping all because of him, tits swaying as your chest heaved, body coated in a shimmering of sweat, that blissed out look of pure pleasure and desire in your darkened eyes.

He slipped his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips and he caught the way you tugged your lower lip into your mouth, a greedy look in your eyes as you watched him suck them clean. He nearly made a show of it, groaning before letting them pop from his mouth.

“So fucking sweet.” He praised, “almost wonder what I should do with you next.” He smirked at the way you instantly pouted, letting out a soft whine, “what sweetheart?”

“Need you.”

“Yeah…” his hand came back between your legs, palming at your puffy cunt, “need what? My fingers again?” One slipped in, but only for one thrust, “my mouth? Or something else?”

“Your cock daddy, please!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Aaron grinned down at you as he shucked his sweatpants off, positioning himself between your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, thumb smearing the pre-cum around it as he let out a soft groan, “fuck… you always get me so hard.” He thrust his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices, “you feel that honey?”

“Yes…” you whined, your hips rocking towards the touch, “please…”

“Please what?” He raised a brow in your direction as he continued his movement and you whimpered.

“Please fuck me!”

“Good girl.” He leant over you, pressing a kiss to your needy lips as he lined up his hips and his cock sunk into your warmth. You both let out satisfied moans at the sensation, his cock slipping all the way into you until his hips were seated against yours and he could feel your cunt clenching around him already. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Move.. please.” You whined, your arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back as you pulled him to him.

Aaron kissed the side of your neck gently before pulling back until only the tip was left and he plunged back into you, earning a gasp from you at just how deep he was. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into you and he made a home in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he started to pant. He set a steady pace, just fast enough to have you shivering and whimpering in his arms but still slow enough to savour it, to make sure you were feeling every inch and every drag of his cock deep in your pussy, to get it wetter with each thrust of his hips.

From the angle he was fucking you, each movement of his body brushed against your clit, the double sensation having you seeing stars already, pleasure tingling under your skin. One of your hands threaded through his hair again, holding him impossibly close as he continued to thrust into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the movement getting larger anytime you let out a particularly loud whine. He loved the way you clenched around him, the sounds you made, knowing he was the one who was making you make them, that he was the only one who could pull sounds like them from you. Each thrust of his hips he could feel the wetness where your bodies met getting larger, the slick around his cock growing, the sounds getting more indecent with every pump.

“Oh god Aaron!” Your nails started to claw at his back, “s-so gg-ood.”

“Always take me so well.” He grunted back, his hips beginning to snap harder and faster into yours, earning a breathy gasp from you as you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist.

Your pussy was dripping, the squelching noises coming from it echoing through the living room and every time Aaron drove his cock deeper into it you felt new sensations, your entire body tingling, starting to shake with pleasure. The coil was building deep inside you, higher and hotter with each thrust and your eyes scrunched shut, a string of whimpering swears leaving your lips. Aaron groaned loudly into your ear at the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him before his mouth latched onto your neck, teeth sinking in before his tongue lapped over the spot to soothe the burn and his lips began to suck at your sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the trembling in your body blew into a full blown spasm and you hit your peak, pussy clenching down even harder around Aaron as he grunted, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing your neck before sitting up on his haunches to chase his own release. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and faster into you and with just how fucking drenched your cunt was it wasn’t long before he was groaning loudly, his cum spilling into your pussy and he dropped over you again. “Fuck…”

Your finger tips gently tickled up and down his back, your other hand coming to his head, scratching at his scalp as he panted above you and you finally managed to catch your breath. You pressed a tender kiss to the side of his head, letting out a very satisfied hum and in return he let out a breathless huff, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. He pulled his head up, his hand coming to caress the side of your cheek as he left a featherlight kiss on your lips and you smiled up at him.

“You okay?” He murmured.

“Perfect.” You replied, stealing another kiss before he gently rolled off you.

Aaron adjusted a few of the cushions and blankets so you would both be comfortable, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you instinctively curled into his side, resting on his chest. His arm wound around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, a small smile on his cheeks as he admired the decorating you’d been doing. The soft light cascading perfectly over the living room for a moment like this.

“You certainly know a thing or two about welcoming a guy home.” He teased and you laughed.

“Figured I could start off strong with what I know you love.” You shifted so you could see his face and he chuckled.

“Well what I love is you, doesn’t matter what form it comes in as long as I get to come home to you every day.”

“You’re a sap, you know that right?”

“Absolutely not.” He grinned back and you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning up to kiss him softly.

“I love you too.”

_______________________

@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @boimlers-gonna-boim @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @acctualdeemon

[haoboutyou]

hello!!! I really enjoy your fics and was wondering if you could do wonwoo, cheol & mingyu where they're crushing on you? separate ones!!

when they have a crush on you | hhu

fluff | 1278 words (300-ish per member) | no warnings

an: hihi! hope this is what you're looking for! it took me a while ngl I have new-found respect for headcanon writers T-T + added vernon because 🤷🏽‍♀️

divider credit

1. Choi Seungcheol

He carries your bags for you. 

You’re not sure when it started, but you’ve noticed that Seungcheol would always carry your bags for you, even despite your insistence. It’s like he’s made it his own personal mission to carry your stuff for you, even when you’re out with others. of course, this came hand in hand with the other guys teasing you two whenever you hung out. It doesn’t help that Jeonghan often jokes that Seungcheol’s crush on you is an open secret, but the boy in question wouldn’t even dispel his best friend’s words, flushing bright red every time.

“Seungcheol, give me that!”

Seungcheol stops in his tracks, causing you to bump into his back. The equipment in the box clinks against each other as he turns around, facing you. Wordlessly, he dumps the box into your waiting arms, smirking when you almost topple over at the unexpected weight. 

“I told you, sweetheart; leave the heavy lifting to me.”

You glance up at him, a slight blush from the unexpected nickname. When did he start calling you that? A bead of sweat glistens on your brow as you brush that thought away, your expression a mix of defiance and sheepishness. 

"I can manage," you mumble, trying your hardest to conceal the struggle in your tone.

He can’t shake off the apprehension swirling within him. He had warned you, hadn't he? Yet, you continue to persist, your determination outmatching your physical strength. Concern floods Seungcheol as he watches the way your arms tremble at the weight of the box. 

He approaches you, gently but firmly emphasising again. "I told you, y/n.” With a resigned sigh, he reached out, his hands enveloping the box, effortlessly lifting it from your grasp. "Stubborn as ever," his voice's a certain fondness, tugging at your heart for no apparent reason.

You watch him, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment colouring your features as he continues walking away with the box. Eh, what harm is an extra hand?

2. Jeon Wonwoo

He lets you win in games.

Wonwoo’s proud of his in-game skills; he’s not afraid to say his reflexes sharp and his strategies are flawless. He’s rather good too– having high rankings in the server makes him cocky, Seungcheol likes to say. But as he glanced at his crush beside him, he notices the slight furrow of your brow, a hint of frustration clouding your features as you struggle to keep up.

A pang of empathy tugs at his heart. Wonwoo did ask you to join him at the internet cafe; he only wishes that you would learn to enjoy the game as much as he did. And so, in a split-second decision, he dials back his intensity, purposely taking on more hits to level the playing field.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly found your character gaining ground, rallying against the opposing team with newfound vigor. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo was subtly adjusting his tactics– allowing you to seize the advantage, all the while maintaining the illusion of competition.

Your team wins. Across you, Jihoon whoops in joy. “That’s foul!” Chan baulks opposite Wonwoo, clicking away furiously on his keyboard. Wonwoo smirks as he leans back in his chair, the loser banner blinking brightly on his screen. Arms stretching up, he leans over his monitor to peek your screen.

Your eyes seemed to shine brighter than the screen in front of you. Contrary to the boy next to you, your monitor flashes an animated victory banner.

“I did it! We–I did it!” you clap your hands together, grinning ear to ear. You lean towards Wonwoo to bump shoulders with him. 

He chuckles, arms crossing behind his head as he leans back in his seat. “Yes, you did!”

3. Chwe Vernon

He gets you medicine.

“Here.” A box drops in front of you, breaking the concentration you had on your laptop in front of you. 

You look up from your screen in confusion. “What’s this?” 

Vernon nudges the box of painkillers in front of you. He settles down on the chair opposite yours, acknowledging Seungkwan seated beside you. 

“You said you had a headache.” He acts nonchalant as he dives into conversation with his best friend, but the heavy blush creeping up his neck suggests otherwise. Yes, you had texted him earlier asking if he had painkillers on him, but you recalled him replying a plain ‘no’. Either he was lying (you doubt it– why would Vernon lie to you?) or he had stopped by a pharmacy just to pick up some for you.

You’re slightly flushing now, and not because of the dull throbbing in your head. Sure, Seungkwan had fed into your delusion earlier, suggesting that Vernon might have a crush on you��� but there’s no way that’s, right?

You sneak a glance at your two best friends in front of you, now engaging in a deep argument about potatoes. Vernon’s brows furrow even deeper but soften when he realises you’re looking his way. The shy smile he sends your way causes cartwheels in your stomach before replacing it with an exaggerated gasp directed to Seungkwan’s way. 

You bury your head back into your laptop, mumbling a quick thanks before trying to focus on your work. Still, you can’t shake off what Seungkwan said about your best friend.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Vernon has a crush on you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Kwan. He sees me as a friend, just like you.”

Seungkwan wiggles his eyebrows, choosing to scroll on his phone instead half-heartedly. “Sure, Jan,” he scoffs.

You slink back deeper in your seat. That can’t be true, right?

4. Kim Mingyu

He gets jealous of others.

Mingyu watches from across the cafe as you laugh at something Seokmin said, your smile radiant, eyes sparkling with amusement. He feels a knot tighten in his stomach– a familiar pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. Aren’t you standing a little bit too close for comfort? Your easy camaraderie is triggering a surge of insecurity within him.

Seokmin is charming, there is no denying it. He has a way with words, a magnetic-like personality that drew people in effortlessly. And you seem rather captivated, hanging on to his every word. Usually, your laughter rings out like music to Mingyu’s ears. Today, though, it was all a cacophony of discord. A reminder of what he could be missing out on.

He clenches his fists, trying to push down the rising tide of jealousy threatening to consume him. Mingyu knows he had no right to feel this way; you aren’t his to claim, and Seokmin had every right to befriend you. But logic did very little to quell the sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.

So he sits, pouting on his own until you notice him from the corner of your eye. He stares you down with his big puppy eyes until you sigh and walk over to your best friend. Your hand can’t help but run through his soft dark hair.

“What’s wrong, Gyu?”

“Hmm?” he leans into your touch, nuzzling against the palm of your hand. “Nothing, Y/n.”

You shoot him a condescending look. “Yeah? You shooting Seokmin daggers with your eyes for nothing?” Your eyes flutter shut as you sigh, shaking your heard in disbelief. Then, ruffling his hair, “If you say so, Gyu.” 

“Anyways,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking up at the cafe’s menu board. “Have you decided what to get? My treat today!” 

“Really?!” Your eyes sparkle, glad you won’t have to open your wallet today. “Help me finish the then cakes, okay? Promise!” 

[ddodol]

not so scary — p.wb

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!wonbin, fem!reader, pet names, quick and messy, unprotected sex, overstimulation, backshots. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.9k+

you knew wonbin was scared of everything under the sun and the moon, so it came as a surprise to you when wonbin readily agreed to work a shift with you at the haunted house.

the two of you met at the very vast amusement park you were working at, spending every break with him just chatting and laughing until you eventually caught feelings for him. it surprised you when wonbin confessed that he approached you on purpose, adding that he’s liked you ever since he spotted you on your first day as an employee. you’d only started dating a few weeks ago and with the holidays approaching fast, there was no time for you two to slip away and have a little date on your own.

there was one time you managed to force wonbin into going in a haunted house with you and that was when he was still trying to impress you. needless to say, you were impressed by his vocal range.

being the one doing all the scaring must’ve given him some confidence since he looked way too happy with the costume given to him. you wore a matching outfit, dressing up as an undead bride and groom. wonbin looked stunning even with the cheap suit and messy makeup you put on his face, giggling when he got way too touchy while you two were getting ready in the dressing room.

wonbin couldn’t possibly keep his hands to himself, the lights were bright at the dressing room and the wedding dress you had on was very, very thin and lacy. he had guessed it was because you needed mobility, though that doesn’t explain why you had to wear a white, lacy garterbelt, letting his mind wander as his eyes traced over your figure.

when the time came for you to step inside the haunted house, wonbin clung onto you, protectively, he claims. you just laughed it off, walking to the area you two were assigned at. it was the dining room, located at the farthest room down a very long hallway. wonbin knew that meant less visitors, smiling to himself as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

the room was slightly cluttered but it was a decent place to slack off at. there was a long dining table at the middle of the room, with chairs toppled over on the ground. on the dining table was a plastic wedding cake, a mix of fake dirt and genuine dust, with fake worms stuck on certain areas. it was a fitting setting for a newlywed couple that had met their demise, finding it somewhat romantic. you walked to the edge of the table, pondering about your strategy for tonight when you felt wonbin’s hands wandering down to your ass.

you giggle, catching him just in time before he slipped under your dress. wonbin rested his chin on your shoulder, smiling as you peek over. “i missed you too, bbin, but we’re here to work,” you smiled at him, playing with his messy hair. wonbin looked a bit goofy at first glance, but even the messy makeup couldn’t hide the fact that he was absolutely gorgeous.

”i know no one would come over here,” he pouted, “can’t i have you to myself just for a while, y/n?”

admittedly, you were weak when it came to wonbin flashing his huge brown orbs at you, sighing in defeat as you turn around, wrapping your arms over his shoulder. wonbin grinned triumphantly, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

you chuckled softly, returning the sweet kiss just as enthusiastically. it didn’t take long before the kiss became needy, wonbin’s hands gripping on your curves as he pressed your body against his. you moaned in the kiss, feeling his bulge hitting your thigh.

wonbin pushed you backwards, “let’s replace your memory of me in a haunted house, okay?” you let out a gasp, your back hitting the edge of the dining table.

he smiled softly, lips all red and swollen from the kiss, “i want you so bad, baby. do you want me too?” you felt your breath hitching in your throat, body moving before you could even think. you pulled him close, nodding as you both giggled.

wonbin dragged a chair from the side, raising your dress up so you could position your knees on the plush seat. the position oddly felt comfortable, placing your hands on the dusty table as wonbin ran his hands up and down your thigh.

you felt shivers, the cold night air hitting your bare skin, jumping in surprise when wonbin snapped your garterbelt against your skin. you shuddered, letting out a whimper, “don’t do that, bbin.”

”makes me want to do it more, y/n,” he chuckled, repeating the same action with your other garterbelt, licking his teeth when he got the same adorable reaction. wonbin leaned against your back, bulge hitting your plush ass. he began to rub himself on you, sighing softly against your nape.

wonbin was glad you tied your hair and opted to wear a wig, pulling the cheap, synthetic wig off of your head with a playful grin. your head was already spinning, too clouded with desire to think rationally; all you wanted right now was him.

you felt his hand on your waist, grabbing on his thumb as you turned your head to the side, “do it quick, baby.” wonbin nods, smiling cutely as he undid his pants. you wanted to see what his cock looked like, pouting when you couldn’t see it because of how dark it was.

”what is it, babe?”

wonbin cupped your face, concerned by your pouty expression. you batted your eyelashes at him, “i wanted to see what you look like.” he giggled at your little problem, peppering kisses all over your exposed shoulder.

”you can take a peek later,” he hummed, “don’t you want to feel it inside instead, y/n?” you shuddered at the thought, biting on your lip. wonbin dragged his cock against your ass, feeling just how thick it was.

”think you have an idea now, baby?” wonbin teased, chuckling when your glazed eyes stared up at him. “it’ll feel even better when it’s inside, baby. you can look at it all you want some other time, is that okay?” you nodded, feeling too needy to think of a snarky remark.

wonbin slapped his cock against your ass, causing you to jerk up at how heavy it felt. “fuck, i can’t wait, y/n,” he sighed, rubbing his tip against your thighs. wonbin slipped your panties off, pocketing it because he wasn’t about to leave it around for other people to see.

you felt his tip against your entrance, gasping when it filled you right up, gripping on the edge of the table. “shit, too tight, baby. how are you holding up? am i hurting you?” wonbin rambled, hands trembling as he held your waist. you could feel his shaky breath against your neck, letting out a small chuckle.

”i can handle it, bbin,” you placed your hand over his, “show me how much you want me.” wonbin smiled, placing a small kiss on your neck.

”don’t come crying to me when it’s too much, okay?”

you almost bit your tongue when wonbin bottomed out inside you, easily reaching your deepest spot in one thrust. he gave you a few seconds to adjust, slamming his hips against yours right after.

wonbin’s thrusts made you feel breathless, desperately grasping onto the decorative utensils that was on the dining table. your hands kept slipping, failing to hold yourself up from how rough he was.

”fuck! i’m already—” your walls clenched down on his cock, thighs trembling as you came. wonbin didn’t slow down, moaning against your ear at how tight you were squeezing him. your head felt light, clearing the table so you could rest your upper body against it. you were sure you broke a couple plates but you couldn’t care any less, moaning blissfully at how wonbin was hitting your sensitive spot.

”cumming again, baby?” wonbin teased playfully, licking and sucking on your neck. he pressed down on your stomach, playing with your bouncing tits with his other hand. wonbin pulled on your nipple, eliciting a cute cry from you. “keep moaning like that for me, y/n. so fucking pretty,” he whispered, hot breath tickling your skin.

you felt weak, thighs trembling once more as you came. two was the most you could handle in one round, crying out incoherently when wonbin began to pound you even harder.

”wonbin— bbin, please! you said it’d be quick!” you whined, hearing his laughter from behind you.

”i didn’t say that, y/n, you did,” he teased, “besides, i’m already going as quick as i can. is this still not enough, baby?” you shuddered, unable to respond as all you could think about was his cock knocking on the entrance of your womb with every deep and quick thrust.

your head felt fuzzy, desperately wanting wonbin to fill you up before you cum for a third time. “bbinnie, are you close? i want it inside,” you whine, digging your nails against the back of his hand.

wonbin kissed your shoulder, breathing roughly as he nodded. “i’m close, baby, don’t worry.” you clenched your walls teasingly, chuckling when wonbin winced.

he grabbed on your tits, moaning against your ear, “i still have full control, y/n. don’t tease me like that.” wonbin lifted one of your legs up, thrusting deep inside you at the perfect timing. you cried out, moaning his name incoherently as your orgasm approached fast.

”fuck! oh my god!” you sobbed, body spasming and walls clenching down on his cock as you came, squirting messily all over the chair and your dress.

wonbin moaned, pulling out to shoot his load all over your ass, licking his lips at the sight. you laid your body down the table, panting tiredly as you fade in and out of consciousness.

once you regained your energy, you immediately noticed how sticky you felt. pouting, you glared at wonbin as you peeked over your shoulder, “i said i wanted it inside.” wonbin just laughed, massaging your back and thighs, still feeling your muscles trembling against his hand.

”you can have it inside later, this is already too much to clean up, y/n.” your eyes wandered around, finally noticing the huge mess you made, including the broken plates and scattered utensils on the ground.

”whatever,” you mumbled with a pout, legs still shaking as you try to stand up by yourself. wonbin quickly held your waist, supporting you up. you stared up at him, “can you at least give me a kiss, then?”

he chuckled, ”gladly.” wonbin leaned in to place kisses all over your face, “i love you, baby.” he rubbed his cheek against yours, smiling cutely when he heard you giggling.

”wanna skip work?” you laughed weakly. before you could even reply, wonbin lifted you up in a second, putting the chair back to where it was before leaving the room. you rested your head against wonbin’s chest, breathing softly at the sound of his heartbeat. you both knew no one would notice a few haunted house employees missing, and if they did, you could just make up an excuse about the place being haunted— it was perfect.

you let out a hum, hearing a few footsteps walking down the hallway you two were now in. you smiled widely, pulling on wonbin’s suit to try and catch his attention.

“let’s go scare a few people before we leave, bbin.”