#after hours! ᡣ𐭩

[welty4ng]

TEAR MY WORLD APART!

call transcript; “adapting is never easy. jiaoqiu supposes he only tolerates it because you’re with him”

cw; spoilers for the current quest !!! f!reader, NSFW (mdni) !! hurt/comfort, fingering (soft sex tbh), not proofread, ugh jiaoqiu i love you so much, fic below the cut, 4.7k words

When Jiaoqiu first returns home, there’s a heavy weight in his chest.

It felt horribly uncomfortable, having Moze walk him all the way from the docks to his house. It felt even worse to have his companion fish his keys from his pockets.

In his mind’s eye, he knows where everything is. He knows where you keep your plants and how to avoid running into them; still, he tips one over, the crunch of dirt beneath his feet ringing sickeningly in his ears. He knows where every corner of his house is; yet, he hits his shoulder when he rounds a corner a little too soon.

Shamefully, it takes him longer than he’d like to find someplace to sit. He’d never thought it to be so humiliating, to realize he spent so many years seeing the layout to his own home without memorizing it.

He’s unsure for how long he sits, the silence deafening and the darkness blinding. There’s a gnawing, ever-growing pit in his stomach at the realization that this might very well be the rest of his life. A shiver runs down his spine. He doesn’t think he’ll enjoy having his senses heightened any more than they already were.

Jiaoqiu jolts when he hears the front door open, his ears perking up. The sound of your footsteps reaches his ears before you call out his name, your voice gentler than he’s ever heard it.

“Hey,” you say, hushed. Jiaoqiu shudders when your hand finds his knee, trying to soothe him. His hands ball into fists on his lap.

“Hey,” he echoes, slightly strained. The weight in his chest grows heavier when you thumb at his knee. It’s horrifying, how he can practically picture the pity on your face — he’d never thought he’d be at the receiving end of it.

“General Feixaio told me what happened,” you whisper. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when you cup his face and he immediately nestles into your palm. Your thumb is gentle against his skin, caressing his cheek with the utmost of care. “I’m so sorry, love.”

There’s a lump in his throat, a million words on the tip of his tongue — ‘I’m okay. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing serious. I just need to adapt.’

All that he musters is a quiet, shaky, “I want to see you.”

Jiaoqiu wonders if you look as broken as he sounds.

Being molded into a homebody is not unideal, but Jiaoqiu has far too much to do.

He wonders if that’s why Feixiao sent Moze to inform him of the leave of absence he’d been granted.

It should be welcome. It is, to an extent, when guilt doesn’t chip away at his conscience; when he doesn’t feel like he’s a burden—

The clatter of pots makes him jump, his tail puffing up before matting back down. He exhales, low and unsteady as you call out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he can complain. Not when you���ve carved out time from your schedule to look after him — to help him adjust, or whatever bullshit Moze claimed Feixiao had said. So he’ll endure the ringing in his ears when something is just a little too loud, endure the tangy, bitter smell of something burning, and offer a patient smile, followed by a soft, “It’s okay.”

Because he knows you’re trying.

Cooking was never your thing. He’d never let it be, because, why would he ever let you dirty your hands when he could do it instead?

Part of himself feels guilty that you’ve been forced into a myriad of things that fell under his attention. It’s an ever-growing sense of uselessness that weighs on his chest, burrowing deeper with every ‘tap’ of the knife on the cutting board.

He presses his back against the wall, trying to suppress the familiar urge to take over the cooking for you. A knot forms in his throat when he hears you softly hiss, his eyes yearning to open and treat whatever wound you must’ve gotten.

When a soft rush of water reaches his ears, he inches off the wall just enough, taking a step toward the noise. It feels slightly disorienting, trying to guide himself simply through hearing. Still, he tries, awkwardly stumbling in your direction with an outstretched hand.

A shaky exhale leaves his lips when he touches your shoulder, his tail awkwardly flicking to the side when you jolt at the contact.

“Let me help,” he whispers, his fingers instinctively squeezing your shoulder. There’s something so horrid about being able to hear your breaths before you even speak. He loathes how clear he can hear your breath falter as you hesitate.

“Jiaoqiu, you—”

“Please.” He’s tired of feeling useless. He has enough to deal with, now that his eyesight is gone indefinitely. He wants to help — to be of use, even if it’s just a little.

The weight in his stomach sinks deeper when you gingerly clutch his wrist. For a moment, he expects you to drop his hand and lead him back to the spot on the wall he’s claimed as his own. Instead, you bring his hand up to your face, letting his knuckles brush against your skin.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you murmur, gentle as you press a kiss to the back of his hand. Jiaoqiu wonders what expression you’re making; wonders if it’s pity or sympathy.

He takes a step closer, his front bumping against yours before his free hand shoots out to hold onto the edge of the counter for balance. “Let me do something, at least,” he pleads, a vague hint of desperation lacing his words.

Your breaths fan his face, tickling his skin in a way that has his tail swaying.

“Please,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

There’s a brief moment of hesitance before you ask, “What do you want to do?”

Jiaoqiu’s heart hammers in his chest, a ticklish sort of hope flooding his being. His hand trembles against your face, softly squeezing your own when you grasp it.

“Anything,” he breathes out. “It doesn’t have to be cooking or cleaning or — just let me do anything.”

When your grip on his hand falters, he grasps it tighter, resting them on your cheek. The smell of something burnt fills his senses, but he can’t find it in himself to care; not when he can feel the faint warmth of your skin. “I want to be of use to you.”

His ears twitch when you sigh, his hand trembling lightly against your face. He can imagine the expression you’re making — pursed lips and furrowed brows, deep in thought. Still, he yearns to see it.

“You can help me stir the pot,” you offer, a hint of hesitance to your voice.

The weight in his chest lightens just a little, his fingers tightening around your own in a light squeeze. “Alright.”

It’s a shred of normalcy, he supposes; even if he’s just swirling a ladle. For a moment, it reminds him of a simpler time, back when he was younger and still learning to fend for himself. The soft ‘tap’ of the knife against the cutting board fills his ears, accompanied by your faint humming.

Will you let him keep helping you? Jiaoqiu can’t help but wonder. Would you let him stop being a burden? Do you even think of him as a burden? He hopes — prays — you don’t. He hopes you let him stay by your side, even if all he can do is rot.

It’s all he wants.

So, when you lead him to your dining table, trying to distract him from the scent of burnt meat, he’ll entertain you. He’ll keep his complaints to himself, even if the soup is far too salty; the noodles are a little too undercooked; and the cubed beef is a bit too charred.

You’re both trying, he reminds himself. Perhaps that’s why he can’t find it in himself to care much when he can hear the ‘snap’ of a noodle between his molars. There’s a slight tingle in his tongue by the time he’s done eating.

Still, Jiaoqiu doesn’t complain. Instead, he smiles, softening when your hand grasps his own beneath the table, squeezing twice in a comforting gesture.

“Thank you,” he whispers, hushed. When your breath hitches, a lump forms in his chest. Quickly, he adds, “For everything.”

For a moment, he supposes the only good thing about being blind is that he doesn’t have to see you cry. Though, he supposes it’s worse, hearing you hold back from it — hearing you struggle to remain composed.

When he opens his arms, you rush into him, leaving your chair behind and opting to perch in his lap — just like you’d always done. He holds you closer, instinctively; though, he rubs at your back with hesitance, almost trying to map out the length of your back.

He shudders when you wet the side of his neck. It feels more present, now that his world is shrouded in pitch black. Your cries sound louder, even when quiet and muffled by his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Jiaoqiu’s unsure if the apology is his or yours, the weight growing tenfold in his chest and ringing in his ears.

He can’t tell if the sobs are still yours, either.

Jiaoqiu learns to rise when you do. His routine morphs into your own, despite your insistence that he rest longer.

Staying in bed doesn’t feel the same without you, he’d argued. You were quick to relent after that.

His feet drag on the floor behind yours, his grip tight around the back of your nightshirt. There’s a dull ache in his head. He bumps into you when you stop, a quick apology tumbling from his lips before he can stop it.

When the sound of rushing water reaches his ears, they twitch, recognizing the familiarity. His hands perch on the edge of the counter, letting go of your clothes. It never takes long for him to hear the soft rustle of fabric falling onto the floor. It never takes long for him to fumble with his buttons, either, before you come to his aid.

“Will you help me wash my hair again?” he asks, quiet as you ease the fabric off his shoulders.

“If you want me to,” you reply, gentle as you help him out of his pants. When your fingers brush against his lower abdomen, he shivers, his tail puffing up as he sucks in a sharp inhale.

Jiaoqiu’s hand leaves the counter, moving to cup your cheek in a practiced (albeit clumsy) movement. Part of himself still feels like a fumbling fool when you move his hand just a little lower, correcting the placement. Still, you never mention it.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he should reject your offer for help — tells him he’s been more than enough of a burden by making you spend more time ensuring he’s clean than you do yourself. Then, a gentler, kinder voice reminds him you’d expressed your satisfaction at being able to aid him. Pride never stands a chance, when it comes to your delight; he realized this soon after meeting you.

So, he lets his finger brush against the apple of your cheek, his voice softening as he says, “I do.”

It’s become almost instinctive, following you. There’s always a certain gentleness with which you hold his hands, guiding him forward as you step into the shower. He hears the quiet scuff of a stool (your insistence, not his) being dragged across the tiles. Your hands remain gentle as you guide him to sit.

“Tell me if I scrub too hard, okay?” The statement is almost unnecessary, truly. You’ve never once treated him with something other than overwhelming delicateness — like he’s made of porcelain. Jiaoqiu considered himself tough, before losing his eyesight. He thinks that shell was stripped from him alongside his vision. He wonders if you know it, too — wonders if that’s why you touch him like he’s seconds away from breaking beneath your touch.

Still, all he says is, “Okay.” Then, after a moment, “Thank you.”

A lump forms in his throat at the beat of silence, his heart hammering in his chest. Aeons, he wants to see your expression — he needs it so desperately. It’s become hard to tell whether he says the right thing or not. Sometimes, he wonders if he oversteps. There are a million words at the tip of his tongue, all of them longing to spill out.

Something soft presses against his forehead, gentle and so, so soft. Two hands cup his jaw, holding him in place before drawing him in. His arms wrap around your middle almost instinctively, his face burrowing into your chest.

“I want to see you,” he whispers, his words muffled by your skin.

Your lips press against the top of his head, tender. Jiaoqiu melts when you cup the back of his head, holding him in place. He wonders if you realize how soothing your heartbeat is to him, currently. Your fingers weave through peachy strands, washing out the shampoo suds from his hair.

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely audible. “We’ll figure it out, love.”

A soft noise rumbles in the back of his throat, his ears twitching and tickling your skin. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head one last time.

For a moment, something akin to hope blossoms in his chest. It’s the first time he’s felt it, since losing his vision, Jiaoqiu notes.

Normal still feels out of place, though not as much anymore. It’s become a faint, lingering feeling in the back of his mind.

There’s still a vague sense of discomfort at being surrounded by darkness constantly. Jiaoqiu supposes it’s only through the habit of touching that he reminds himself he’s not alone.

He’s only grateful you indulge him, even if it must be a bother to have him hovering and pestering just to stick to you.

The streets of the Yaoqing — have they ever been this noisy? Jiaoqiu can’t tell. It’s uncomfortable, how loudly everything rings in his ears. He thinks he would rather trade the boisterous noise for the bright, vivid colors he used to complain about.

“We’ll head home soon,” you reassure, squeezing his hand as tight as you can. For a moment, he wonders if his distress is palpable (he concludes that, for you, it must be).

“You shouldn’t rush,” he replies, his words trailing off into a quick apology when someone bumps into his shoulder. His hand squeezes yours — the mere thought of separating from you makes his heartbeat spike in anxiety. Jiaoqiu softly clears his throat, quickly adding, “I’m fine, really.”

Neither of you seem to believe it, though you don’t call him out on the lie. Instead, you slow your pace even more to loop your arm with his.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling him just a little closer to you as you walk, “We could get the ingredients for those noodles you like.”

Jiaoqiu hums, trying to ignore the way the corners of his lips curl up. “That would be nice,” he says, trying to keep his steps matched to yours.

“You could help me make them,” you offer, gently tugging him closer before someone brushes against his arm.

His steps falter for a moment. When he takes a second too long to reply, you rush to add, “Only if you want to.”

A lump forms in his throat, agreement sitting on the tip of his tongue. All he does is exhale. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering loud in his ears. You’re looking at him — he doesn’t need his vision to tell. A hushed, barely audible whisper leaves his lips when you call his name.

“Is it still too soon?” you ask, a hint of worry in your voice. Your hold on him tightens just a little. “I-I figured, maybe it had been long enough to try and ease you back into things you used to do. We can just pretend I didn’t say any—”

“I want to,” Jiaoqiu says, his voice wavering. He isn’t sure when his breath picked up, but he can feel his chest heaving. His tail lightly sways when you place your hand above his own, thumbing at his knuckles.

“Okay.” Your voice feels as soft as your touch. It tickles his nerves, sending a flutter through the pit of his stomach and down to his core.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours (a jolt of satisfaction in his chest at the lack of clumsiness). His ears twitch when the pad of your thumb lightly presses into his knuckle. 

“Okay,” he echoes, trying to match your tone. Jiaoqiu softens, gently rubbing his forehead against your own.

Warmth blooms in his chest when you whisper. The market’s ruckus feels like white noise as your words ring in his ears. Like instinct, his lips part before replying in earnest. “I love you, too.”

He wonders if it’s your face that’s burning up, or if it’s his.

It pains him a little, just how long it’s taken him to ask this of you.

Jiaoqiu feels you shift beneath him, adjusting your position before wrapping your legs around his waist again. He softly exhales, tracing the slope of your cheek with the utmost of care. His heart hammers away in his chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Don’t move,” he whispers, breathless as he pokes at the fat of your cheek. When you sigh, he lets himself cup your face, the pad of his thumb lightly pressing into the hollow beneath your eye.

“How much longer are you going to do this for?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice. Jiaoqiu softens, his tail swaying when you lean into his touch.

“Until I’m sure I’ve memorized everything.”

“I thought you already knew my face by heart?” you reply. The corners of his lips curl up into a smile when he hears yours. He gently pinches your cheek, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips.

“I do,” he says, loud enough so it’s meant for your ears only. “I just want to make sure I know it, deep in my soul.”

A soft hum leaves his lips when you squeeze his waist. His hand moves, his thumb tracing the shell of your ear.

“How smooth,” you mumble, brushing a few peachy strands away from his face.

“I want to make sure it’s all like I remember,” he murmurs, complying when you pull him up with your legs. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitch when his nose bumps against yours, a breathless chuckle slipping past his lips.

His hand trails down, his thumb brushing your lower lip. When you gently kiss the digit, his breath hitches. He cups your jaw, trying to find an angle. You simply follow his lead, letting him lead.

He thumbs at the corner of your lips, your breath fanning against his skin. His mouth presses against yours in the softest — faintest — of kisses. When you sigh, he lets himself mold against you. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, his tail swaying when you grant him access.

There’s a hint of desperation behind his actions. Jiaoqiu wonders if you can tell, by the way his tongue licks at your mouth — almost like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste.

He barely gives you any reprieve, breaking the kiss to catch the slightest of breaths before he’s attached to your lips once more. When his name leaves your lips between kisses, heat pools in his stomach. It’s a feeling he’d thought dormant since he’d lost his sight.

Jiaoqiu doesn’t think he’d mind its resurgence — not after the way you part with a whined gasp, struggling to catch your breath. His lips press against the corner of your mouth, then lower, until he’s kissing a trail down to the spot beneath your jaw.

When you struggle to hold back a moan, heat shoots through his veins. Your hands find the back of his head, your fingers tangling in peachy strands. He complies when you help him up, cupping his face before capturing his lips with your own.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu wonders if you taste sweeter than he remembers.

“Guide me.”

“Hm?”

A soft, huffed chuckle escapes Jiaoqiu’s lips. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb applying a delicate pressure beneath your eye. He feels you shift on the bed, your legs tangling with his own.

“Guide me,” he repeats, his ears twitching when you yawn. A gentle noise rumbles in his chest, his body pressing closer to yours and his hand moving lower to let his thumb press against the corner of your mouth. Then, he leans down, his lips replacing the digit.

Heat pools in his stomach at the sigh you let out. His tail lightly sways, the ends puffing out when he nips at your lower lip. “You’ve been patient for long enough,” he murmurs, gently ghosting a kiss over your lips.

“Jiaoqiu—”

“No excuses,” he says, “Please.”

After a light kiss, he adds, “Let me do this for you.”

For a moment, he wonders if it’s your heartbeat he hears, instead of his own. He lets his hand leave your face to rest on the underside of your breast, relishing how your breaths stutter.

“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Jiaoqiu reasons, his voice tender as he moves his face closer to the crook of your neck. “I ought to express my gratitude,” he whispers, noting how you shudder as his breath tickles your skin. He presses his lips against the underside of your jaw — right at the spot he knows makes your breath hitch and your thighs clench. “Shouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t do anything with the intention of getting something in return,” you say. He catches on to the quiver to your tone when his ears twitch. His teeth graze your jaw, soft and experimental as he thumbs at the lower part of your breast.

“Isn’t that reason enough to accept my gratitude with open arms, then?”

You shudder, your hand moving to perch on his shoulder when he trails kisses down to your collarbone. “We both know what your gratitude entails, Jiaoqiu.”

He softly clicks his tongue, letting his canines graze against your skin. The hand on your chest inches upward, moving until his thumb reaches your pert nipple. “Even more reason for you to accept, hm?”

His touch softens when you sigh.

“Isn’t it a little too soon—?”

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” Jiaoqiu mumbles. He presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. 

There’s a slight hesitance to your actions — how you seem to mull over his words. His tail sways, lightly rubbing against the bedsheets as your fingers run through his locks.

“Still, I—” your breath catches, your words interrupted by a wanton whine when delicately rolls your nipple between his fingers. 

Heat shoots through his nerves, fueling the fire in his stomach as he pictures your expression — your face all scrunched up, but your lips parted as you pant. Jiaoqiu slows the barrage of kisses on your skin, softy exhaling.

He wants to see it, so, so desperately.

He wants to feel and touch and see. His ears twitch when you sigh his name, breathless. A soft growl rumbles in his chest in response before he presses an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone.

“Let me take care of you,” he quietly pleads. “You shouldn’t have to suppress your own needs for my own.”

“I’m not—”

Jiaoqiu nips at your collarbone to cut off your words, his tongue gently soothing the spot. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his words slightly muffled by your skin. “Not when I hear clearer than I ever could.”

Your grip on his hair falters, your breath hitching. He wonders what expression you wear — are you flustered or taken aback? Or is it something entirely different? 

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t touch you like I used to,” he breathes out, gently rolling your nipple between his fingers. You tug on his hair, your breaths uneven. His lips trail kisses along the expanse of your collarbone. “You just need to guide me.”

His fingers leave your nipple, drawing a soft whine from your lips as he trails them down to your hip.

“It’s about time you replace your fingers with my own, after all,” he rasps, kissing a path back up to your jaw, “Isn’t it?”

His ears twitch when a strained whimper slips past your lips. He nips at your skin before pressing a feather-light kiss on the spot. Heat floods the pit of his stomach when you nod against his head, your hand resting atop the one on your hip.

“You’ve been more than patient, love,” Jiaoqiu whispers, his tail twitching against the sheets as you help his hand down between your thighs. He shudders an exhale, his fingers inquisitive as they search for your clit. His breaths become heavy, fanning against your jaw in a way so ticklish that your thighs instinctively press together.

A choked whine leaves your lips, your fingers curling in his hair. “‘s n-nothing,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

He gently clicks his tongue, his thumb pressing against you once he finds your bud. “It’s not ‘nothing,’” he replies, rubbing his nose along your jaw as he begins to circle your clit. “It’s never easy to care for a patient.”

You mewl, lightly jolting when his index finger prods around in search of your entrance. “W-wait,” you stammer, your hand moving to aid his own. His tail thumps faintly against the bed when his fingertips ghost above your folds.

“Here we go,” he whispers, unable to keep the elation from his voice. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve realized the selfish intentions behind his idea to thank you.

Though, he’s sure that even if you have, you probably don’t mind. Jiaoqiu knows how tired you must be from fingering yourself in his stead. Your fingers were never as good as his at bringing you pleasure, after all.

The corners of his lips curl up into a small smirk, his finger pumping in and out of you with practiced ease. “That’s nice, isn’t it, love?” he asks, his voice a soft coo.

“M-mhm,” you shakily hum, slowly rocking your hips against his digit to match his pace.

“Your sweet cunt just needed my fingers, didn’t it?”

He can’t hold back the purr in the back of his throat when you nod, your fingers fisting his peachy strands when he pushes a second finger into your folds.

“N-needed them s-so bad—!” you cry, your voice cracking. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, your breath quick and uneven pants. “‘s never the same when t-they’re mine…”

Jiaoqiu gently shushes you, peppering kisses against the underside of your jaw. “I know, love,” he coos, his voice full of sympathy. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

You moan, your breath hitching as your walls flutter around his fingers. When they curl, you cry, your hips desperately rocking against his hand. “J-Jiaoqiu—”

“Close already?” he asks, though he fails to hide the smile from his voice. You huff and he chuckles, a sense of satisfaction settling in his gut. How long has it been since he’s felt that — felt anything other than a weight in his chest?

Jiaoqiu can’t be bothered to wonder. Not when your cunt spasms around his fingers, your broken cries and moans rising in volume the more he curls his digits against the spongy spot in your folds.

“That’s it, love,” he breathes out, his voice a heavy rasp. “Let go for me.”

When you cry, he can only picture the expression on your face — can only imagine you look just like you’ve always done when you cum. His chest aches for just a moment, then lightens when you mewl his name.

“T-thank you,” you whisper, your words slightly slurred. Jiaoqiu softens when you kiss the top of his head. 

“I should be the one thanking you,” he replies, hushed. He nuzzles into you, slowly pulling his fingers out of your cunt. His chest rises and falls, weightless for the first time in weeks. “For everything.”

[tetzoro]

my little tumblr to do list today (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

ෆ sort drafts (current count: 267 . . . 164)

ෆ set up queue for work hours

ෆ catch up on tbr

ෆ answer asks

ෆ drop by inboxes

ෆ edit / finish a fic

ෆ smooch my mootiez !

[fairy-angel222]

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader

cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching

Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.

From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.

When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.

You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.

At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.

It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.

Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.

You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.

Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”

Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.

The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”

You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”

Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”

You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”

Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.

Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.

You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.

Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.

And it was unbearable.

Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.

It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.

You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”

His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.

“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“

You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”

“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”

Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”

You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”

Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.

Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.

You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”

“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”

Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”

You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.

“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.

“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”

“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.

“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”

You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”

“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.

“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.

“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”

Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.

It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.

Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.

“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”

You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.

A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.

He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”

You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.

Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.

The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.

He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.

[giamee]

𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )

he just can't get enough of your pussy !

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.

this is a dangerous game when he's involved

as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen

and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?

he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.

so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.

and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.

it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.

and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.

you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.

"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"

any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.

he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.

"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,

"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.

your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.

"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.

always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.

"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.

"but you love it."

you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.

he's the type of man who's best in small doses

the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent

but there's ways around that

"sampo, do you ever shut up?"

ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.

"no, but for a small standalone price-"

if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)

"sampo."

the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.

"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."

you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.

"either shut up or i'll make you."

you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.

approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.

the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.

he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.

every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".

his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).

your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.

he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.

you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.

"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.

"hm... that's what i thought."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.

blade's mean when he eats you out

he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned

"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.

how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.

"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.

"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.

"attagirl."

blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.

there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.

"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.

he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.

and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.

"one more?"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm

because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around

but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too

"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.

"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.

"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.

"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.

"does that feel good?"

"y-yeah, so good, baby."

he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.

his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.

"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.

"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.

he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.

"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.

you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.

"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.

"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.

"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.

your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it

like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL

"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.

he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.

"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.

"hi, pretty."

"hi."

"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.

"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.

"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.

"quit teasing me."

"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"

"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.

"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.

"gladly."

there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.

you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.

"you taste divine, my love."

and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.

the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.

as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.

everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.

the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.

"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"

luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.

"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"

and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.

his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.

"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.

you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.

and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.

"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[mi-olaaa]

Pretty girl.. (18+)

Fem!reader, softdom!ony, bf!ony, plussize!reader katoptronophilia, you alr know what it isss! Smut so no minors.. ofc. Enjoy!!

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

“Hey. Look at me mamas.” Ony murmurs into your ear, so sweetly. Too sweetly, especially for the way his dick is curving up into your gummy walls, but you listen, looking in the floor length mirror in front of you, watching how sinfully delicious he looks to you. “Onyy— fuck, i can’t” Your whines echo around the room, your head drooping slightly.

He grabs your face by your chin, gently peppering kisses, his grip on your hips tightening for a moment, as he pounds up into your dripping cunt. "Yes you can mama, this is your dick. Take it." You swear you were gonna die when he grinned so deviously at you in the mirror, the way he lowered those pretty eyes of his at you, the way his touch has you writhing under him.

You’ve been sitting on his lap in front of this damned mirror for almost an hour, looking at him bouncing you up and down by the hips, orgasm after orgasm, and he wants you to keep looking at him?

Ony's tip was reaching spots in you that you didn't even know existed, brushing up against your cervix, eliciting moans and pants from your mouth. He nips at your neck, hand leaving your chin, snaking around to your clit, rubbing circles around the puffy folds. "Baby, Ony— ouhhh please" You could feel his slender fingers on your clit, massaging the sensitive bundle.

"Please what? Use your voice pretty girl." He looks up at the mirror, watching his cock piston in and out of your pussy, and all you could do is drool. “Haah— stop teasing me please.” The moan that ripped out of your throat was pure bliss, and before you could even say it, you were squirting over his digits, some of your arousal even splattering on the bottom of the mirror in front of you two.

The clear, warm arousal of yours had him fucking into you like a madman. Ony’s grip on your hip tightened as you spasm slightly, his fingers dripping. While he had your attention on him in the mirror, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking the taste of you off of them. “Taste so fucking good mamas, need to eat you next time.” And again with that sexy gaze of his, looking directly at you this time as you nod lazily.

The way he was digging into you so deep had you damn-near screaming his name, pussy squeezing his length like a vice, milking him for all he’s got.

“Mhm mhm baby. Look at me, do what I told you, look at me.” He croons into your ear, the hand that’s not already holding you by your hips and slamming you down onto him, wraps around your torso, massaging your lovely breasts, as you come undone again.

Your moans come out wantonly, and you’re nothing but a drooling, sticky mess for him, it almost makes him wonder if it’s because you can everything in mirror? Doesn’t matter, with the way he’s filling you so good and fucking you so fast, you’re seeing stars and panting.

It’s interesting though, the way your face contorts in pleasure in the mirror to his ministrations, the way your thick thighs jiggle when you bounce on him, the tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as your back arches so sinfully, it’s too much.

And all it does is make Ony groan, and lean down to capture one of your tears on his tongue. “C’mon mama, just one more. You think you can do that f’me?” He speaks, trying so sweetly to coax another orgasm out of you.

It takes almost all the power you have to find an orgasm in you, but you don’t have to do much with how attentive he is to you and your needs. Massaging and toying with your nipples, whispering praise in your ears, pushing all your buttons, just to see his pretty girl cum again, and you do. You come absolutely undone on his dick, a pretty, creamy white ring of your arousal at the base of his cock, all the while, he slows his thrusts, having cum into you more times than you both could count.

By the time the both of you have came to your senses, he finally pulls out of your pretty, fat pussy. Watching as dribbles of cum spill out of you, kissing your neck once again. “See, I knew you had one more in you, good job mama.” He murmurs into your panting skin, side-eyeing you in the mirror, and how you tremble slightly, looking like a deer in headlights, massaging your sore thighs, admiring the fat of them.

Too tired to do anything but nod and stick a lazy thumb up, you slump on his chest, relishing in how warm he is. Ony doesn’t bother with clean up right now, he’ll do it sometime later, all he currently cares about is getting you into bed, especially with the way you just fell asleep on him. He picks you up from the small of your back and the back of your knees, bridal-style, before getting off the edge of the bed.

Flicking off the main lights in your shared bedroom, leaving the ambient lights on, he climbs into bed, setting you down and covering you up, holding you as you both wind down, petting your head softly, and smoking a blunt before going to bed.

That dick really fucked his pretty girl to sleep.

☆ ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ☆

Authors note: heyyyy 🤭 ion have nun to say for once.. so imma shut my fat ass up. 🙃 LOVE Y’ALL 🫶🏾

[nativegirltapes]

ok so imagine drew and younger!reader having their first real argument, and we know she’s always right!!! <3

pairing , drew starkey x angel!reader (younger reader) warnings , them arguing + drew being a meanie. notes, hope yall like this <3 i need dis man bad

ᡣ𐭩˙⋆.˚ 🏕️

"i just don't get why you need to be out till 1AM with your friends. like what are you guys even doing?" you questioned drew. he told you he would be home around 11, but two hours later there he was.

"i haven't seen these people in ages. we're catching up. ever heard of it?" drew snapped back, his attitude surprised you, he never got like this.

"okay. didn't need the attitude." you huffed under your breath.

"attitude?" drew furrowed his eyebrows and gave you a confused look, like you were the one asking stupid questions. "i walk in the house and you attack me with questions. and i have the attitude?" his voice was still calm, but for some reason it made you even more mad than him yelling would've. it was like he was trying to make you feel stupid.

but maybe that was where the age difference between you and drew stood out the most; arguments. he knew how to remain calm most of the time, he never yelled, even when he was really upset with you. whereas you immediately got defensive and mad. but looked like tonight he was taking a new approach.

"you're missing my point drew."

"and what point is that exactly?" drew looked at you like he was actually waiting for an answer, like his question wasn't rhetorical. you felt so stupid. drew had never gotten so blunt and snippy with you before. you didn't know how to handle it.

"whatever." you walked out of your shared bedroom, shutting the door behind you, feeling the waterworks already forming.

"seriously? you're gonna go run off and cry now?" drew yelled after you. he knew you too well.

after sighing and putting his feelings to the side for right now, drew followed right behind you. where he found you on the couch, crying in your own hands. he felt really bad. "baby, i'm sorry." he sat next to you, embracing you in a hug. "it's just been a long night."

you didn't respond, so drew took that as his opportunity to pick you up bridal style and carry you back to the bedroom.

your head nuzzled into his chest, tears leaving stains on his shirt. "you're so mean."

[skzms]

📹ᡣ𐭩₊˚⊹ free, when you’re here with me lee minho x f!reader x han jisung

summary: one time you and jisung tease minho while he's live. another time you and minho return the favour. and the third time ... well, let's just say they're both live that time.

word count: 9.6k words

author's note: first fic back from sea may rise is my brand - minsung and exhibitionism. I have had this idea in my drafts for half a year now and I finally got around to writing it. straight filth. enjoy!

warnings: sexting and getting hard on live; porn without plot; established relationship; canon compliant; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); daddy kink; big on the exhibitionism; sexting and images and videos of sexual acts; sex toys; size queen behaviour from our reader; masturbation; oral; pubic hair bc it's sexy and I said so; they keep talking about tanghulu because it's canon and they need to be freed from these repetitive questions

skzms' masterlist

ᡣ𐭩 ONE

“‘Hi Lee Know, how are you today?’ Hiii, I’m good, how are you?” Minho singsongs, dutifully, throws a look at the camera propped up on the table in front of him, then back down at his phone where Bubble is open.

At least he’s alone in the room today. It’s always much less awkward when there are three staff members watching him provide fan service and make faces at a phone.

“’How was your day?’ My day was alright. Had a schedule this morning really early, but we finished around noon. I got galbitang for lunch, ate it with Kim Seungmin.”

He watches the chat predictably explode into messages about him and Seungmin, about Seungmin’s new show, whether he’d seen it. He gives it a second.

On the top of his screen, a message pops up.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: jisungie 🐹🍑 who allowed you to look so damn good when you’re not here

Minho doesn’t bother to hide the smirk that takes over his face as he reads the message.

“Ah, Kim Seungmin’s Song By, yes, I watched it. Who knew dogs could sing like that, huh.”

He knows this simple sentiment will buy him enough time to respond to Jisung.

from: minho got nothing better to do than watch my live?

The reply is instant. It’s a picture of Jisung and you, cuddled up together in what Minho can clearly tell is Jisung’s bed, based on the dark grey, checkered sheets and the orange and purple glow of Jisung’s LED lights.

from: y/n 😻 we just miss you :(

Minho resists the urge to roll his eyes, fondness dangerously squeezing at his chest. He swipes back to Bubble, takes a quick look at the chat, but everyone’s still talking about Seungmin’s show.

“Ah, yes, the song. I know it. He talked about it for a week before filming. He was very worried about his choice, but he chose it well.”

Quickly, he swipes back and is greeted by the picture again.

It’s adorable. Your head, pillowed on Jisung’s arm, eyes scrunched up in a smile as you lean up and into his neck. Jisung’s smile is soft, his cheek squished against your forehead. You’re both still dressed exactly like how he left you, Jisung in his oversized sweatshirt, you in one of Minho’s t-shirts. God, he wishes he could be there instead of here.

from: minho I left like an hour ago

Then he goes back to Bubble.

For a few minutes, there’s no new notification. Minho even finds himself swiping back to your group chat to check, but you and Jisung are suspiciously quiet. He answers a question about Soondoongdori, but secretly he wonders if your words, the fact that you missed him, weren’t true at all.

But then, four messages come in in quick succession.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 sorry, hyung, we got a little distracted wanna see? turn your volume off

The thumbnail of the video is blurry, but Minho can make out the colours of your clothes. He doesn’t know if he hopes it is what he thinks it is or if he should hope it’s something much more innocuous.

And Minho shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t open a video while he’s live on Youtube with thousands of people watching. But if there’s one thing that he loves more than he loves his job, it’s you and Jisung, and especially videos of you and Jisung. The photo gallery of his secret private phone is proof of that.

So he puts his phone on mute. Clicks the volume down until it shows it’s silent, and then clicks the lower volume button 30 more times for good measure. Angles his phone, so nobody can see, though he knows they can’t. And he clicks play.

It plays silently, Minho notes with an internal sigh of relief, but that fact is soon forgotten when he takes in the view. The framing is as gorgeous as it is simple. The camera hovers over you and Jisung’s upper bodies, cutting off right above your noses and right below your chests. You must be holding it because Jisung’s hand is cupping your cheek, your chin, black painted nails digging into the meat of your cheek as he absolutely devours you.

Or really, you devour each other, swapping filthy, wet open-mouthed kisses, tongues meeting somewhere in the middle, laving against each other. Then Jisung wraps his plump lips around your bottom lip and sucks, making your body arch into him, your hand scrambling to wrap around the back of his neck to get better access and arousal hits Minho like a tidal wave. You kiss Jisung harder, drag your nails over his scalp as you lick into his mouth, so deep Minho thinks he can hear the phantom of Jisung’s moan in his ears and Jisung kisses back, a dribble of spit running down the soft skin of your chin and the video ends.

And Minho realises he’s live.

It takes all of his idol training to swallow down his panic, to seemingly calmly swipe back to Bubble and check the messages when his brain feels hazy, and he can feel his cock pulsing in his sweats. But nobody seems to have noticed. All the messages are just the usual ‘notice me’s or ‘make a heart!’s.

His phone vibrates in his sweaty hand.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 I can’t believe you watched the video on live I’m so fucking hard that’s so hot

from: y/n 😻 don’t worry, it wasn’t obvious our pro idol <3

Minho bites back a scoff.

from: minho you two are fucking crazy

He shoots the message back and swipes back to Bubble.

“’Lino-yah, do you prefer kimchijigae or doenjangjigae?’ Kimchijigae, always!”

from: y/n 😻 does that mean you don’t want another video?

Minho could not give less of a fuck about Kimchijigae right now. The seconds he waits for another video to come in are agonising. He tries to respond to as many comments that fly past as he can, while he still can, before the message finally pops up.

from: y/n 😻 <kjs3js9asu8.mp4>

He swipes across and nearly lets out a groan at the thumbnail. Jisung’s bare, broad shoulders and brown, curly mop of hair, between your thick soft thighs, bathed in purple and orange lights. It looks like art.

Minho punches the volume down button another few times for good measure and hits play.

In the top of the frame, the ends of your, no his t-shirt, rucked up enough to expose the soft curves of your waist, your belly. Jisung is settled between your soft thighs, one of them slung over his broad, honey skinned shoulder, his hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place, ringed fingers digging into your skin. Minho wants them in his fucking mouth.

Jisung’s face is buried in your pussy. Nose-deep, hair bobbing with every lave of his stupidly talented tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in what Minho knows is ecstasy. His legs are spread, hips grinding into the mattress, his pert little ass in his sweats just about visible from how you’re holding the camera.

And then Jisung takes your clit into his mouth, flutters his glassy eyes open and sucks, and Minho watches the muscles in your belly ripple and your back arch. Jisung’s eyes are still on you, but then he flattens his tongue and licks at you obscenely and makes eye contact with the camera, and Minho’s cock throbs.

Your fingers thread into Jisung’s hair, pulls his head back so hard his eyes roll, and his mouth falls open, purple lights making the juices on his chin glisten. You shove him back down, and he goes willingly, dives lower, head bobbing harder, pink tongue peeking out from his rosebud lips. Then the video ends.

Minho is rock hard in his sweats. He forces himself to swipe back to Bubble. Half crazed, half out of his fucking mind, he looks for something to reply to.

“If Lee Know sees this comment he’ll wink,” he reads, looks at the camera with a deadpan expression and does a silly wink.

He wants to end this live right now and run home, but he promised their manager he’d stay on for longer today.

He swipes back to your chat.

from: minho did jisungie make you cum?

The answer is immediate.

from: y/n 😻 mhm yeah he did so good <IMG_363762.jpeg>

A picture. Of your face. Flushed and fucked out, hair messy against the pillow, a pretty little smile on your bitten lips. Minho is about to fucking lose his mind.

Subtly, he shifts in his chair, bites back a hiss when his cock drags against his boxers in a way that feels a little too good. Then he forces himself back to Bubble.

But the top of his screen lights up with another notification.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 when are you coming home, jagi? we want you so bad you and your stupidly big cock I bet it’s so hard right now

“My favourite song off the last album is Blind Spot,” he half growls out. His leg is jumping, his heart thundering in his chest. The chat goes wild. Hannie’s song! Minsung is real, guys.

Possessiveness always comes easier when his cock is hard, and he’s thinking about them.

“Exactly,” he just says. No indication what he responded to. It’s all he’s allowed to. But hopefully enough of them will know.

From: y/n 😻 <97jdn2yns.mp4>

He swipes over immediately.

Jisung. Filmed from your vantage point, clearly, if your bare thighs on either side of his beautiful waist are anything to judge by. Then your hand, manicured nails reaching up to Jisung’s mouth, tapping your middle and ring finger against his lips. Jisung blinks slowly, then opens his mouth, dutifully. He swallows your fingers down greedily.

inho has to actually bite back a moan. His cock twitches pathetically in his sweats. He hums a random melody, trying to distract the people on his stupid live from the fact that he hasn’t said anything in a couple of seconds.

But his brain, his cock, his entire nervous system – it’s all attuned to you. Jisung, flushed and fucked out, sucking on your fingers, his eyes rolling into the back of his head like he’s in some fucking hentai. Minho adores it.

The angle changes. With your fingers still in Jisung’s mouth, you lean over, prop up the phone against something on the other side of the bed, brows furrowed in a concentration so adorable it makes him want to ruin you, before you return to straddling Jisung’s waist, Jisung’s pretty hands splayed over your thighs.

Jisung sucks on your fingers harder, his eyes threatening to flutter shut as you lean forward, closer until you finally remove your soaking wet fingers from his lips. Jisung sucks in a breath and Minho knows that if he had his sound on, he would’ve heard the most delicious whimper.

With bated breath, Minho watches as you and Jisung stare at each other, before you dip down and replace your fingers with your lips. Jisung surges up, his hands wrapping around your waist like a man starved, and Minho swears he gets dizzy for a moment.

He doesn’t think he blinks once for the last few seconds of the video, watching you kiss Jisung into the mattress, watching Jisung’s hands grab at you wherever he can reach, kneading your ass, your hips, your waist, rucking up your shirt until he can pull it over your head, your naked tits pressing against Jisung’s chest.

The video ends and Minho swears his ears are ringing. His whole body is burning with a desire that makes his teeth ache. His cock is so hard it fucking hurts, pulsing where it lies against his thigh, hard and leaking and neglected.

He forces himself to swipe back to Bubble again.

“‘If Lee Know oppa doesn’t see this, it means we’re married’,” Minho reads with a shaky voice, and it shocks a laugh out of him.

The only people he’s married to, mind, soul, body, entirely, stupidly, are you and Jisung. He wishes he could scream it from the fucking rooftops.

“Ha,” he answers out loud, smirks at the camera, “well, it can’t be helped. Guess we’re not married.”

He feels crazy. Insane. He wonders how much longer he has to be live when another message comes in.

from: jisungie 🐹🍑 fuck, hyung, I can hear it in your voice please come home please <093knahi2.mp4>

Minho holds out long enough to answer one more question, something about a trendy new street food snack, before he scrolls back to their chat and clicks on the video like a man possessed.

It’s Jisung’s perspective this time. Jisung’s point of view of your naked, beautiful body, glowing shades of orange and purple, sheen of sweat making you shimmer like a thousand diamonds, twirling your hips up and down on Jisung’s cock.

Minho’s spit catches in his throat, and he nearly drops his phone, so harshly does it make him cough. His face is burning, probably bright red, but at least now he has an excuse.

“Ah, sorry, everyone,” he groans out, gives the camera a sheepish look.

Then he looks down again. He missed a few seconds of the video, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t scroll back.

There it is again. Your body, the body he knows so well, your tits, your belly, the dip of your waist, the plush of your skin, the little patch of hair right over your cunt, which is, oh fuck, perfectly, snugly, wetly wrapped around Jisung’s cock. Your juices are shimmering in the light where they’re wetting the coarse, short curls around the base of Jisung’s cock. Your head is thrown back, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Jisung’s hand is resting on your waist, then trailing up, guiding you up and down in a slow, deliberate grind, before it snakes up, and he grabs a fistful of your tits in his big hands, rubbing his thumb over the hard bud of your nipple.

Minho has to pause the video.

His underwear is wet. He hasn’t said anything in at least a minute. He … fuck, he’s actually out of breath.

Bubble he reminds himself. He swipes over clumsily, answers the first thing he sees.

“’Have you ever had Tanghulu?’ Aaaah, yes, of course. Everyone’s had it, right?” he actually sounds out of breath, fuck. He wonders if they’re still watching. If they’re seeing him, flustered, out of breath, or if they’re too busy fucking each other’s brains out. “I don’t typically like sweets. The texture is nice, though. The crunch is good. And the fruit is sweet.”

He knows what’s sweet, and it’s the sounds you make when you get fucked just right. It’s the skin behind Jisung’s ear that he could suck on for hours. It’s the pre-cum that drools out of Jisung’s cock, the taste of your chapstick in the morning when Minho licks it off your lips.

He’s had enough.

“Ah, would you look at the time, Stay. I’m gonna go and devour some tanghulu right now. Bye!”

He reaches over with shaky fingers, pushes the end button.

Everything happens in slow motion. He double-checks that the live ended, locks the phone, places it facedown on the table for good measure.

Then he swipes back to your chat. He finds the last video. He clicks play cranks up the volume, and shoves his hand into his sweats.

Moans, so much sweeter than candied fruit. Jisung’s, high and needy, yours, a little further away, breathless, desperate.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Jisung moans into the microphone and Minho throws his head back with a moan of his own. His cock drools.

Minho starts working his hand over his cock faster, the slide slick and loud in the empty room. You whimper, lean forward, your hands coming to rest on Jisung’s chest, digging your nails into his skin if Jisung’s gasp is anything to go by.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Jisung groans, and Minho nearly cums. His eyes roll back and his cock throbs.

“J-Jisungie,” you whimper and Minho has to dig his nails into the skin of his thigh to keep his composure, “need m-more, pl-please.”

“Ah, fuck, baby, fuck,” Jisung keens, “yeah? You want it? Don’t want to wait for Min?”

Minho twists his wrist and pleasure zaps up his spine.

“C-can’t,” you whimper, and then there’s the sound of rustling. When Minho looks back at the video, it’s no longer pointing at you, but instead at the ceiling. But he can still hear you.

Punched out little ahs, falling from your lips in a never-ending stream, perfectly timed with the wet smack of skin against skin. Jisung fucking up into you, no doubt. Jisung swearing, a litany of curses and baby’s and so fucking good’s.

Minho whimpers into the empty room. The moans, the sound of skin against skin, the desperate pleas, your voice teary and broken, Jisung’s tone shifting higher and higher, cooing and praising you, it’s all too much.

Minho’s orgasm careens through him with the weight of freight truck. His hips buck up into nothing, trying to shove himself harder into the tight ring of his fist, his whole body locking up in pleasure. His vision whites out, and he vaguely registers himself moaning, hears you and Jisung fall apart, Jisung’s telltale hiccuping moan, your choked sob.

Then the video ends and Minho slowly comes down and there’s a gigantic wet mess in his boxers and utter silence in the room, except for the blood thumping in his ears.

ᡣ𐭩 TWO

“Hi Stay,” Jisung mumbles. Deep breath in, deep breath out. It’s just a stupid live. “How are you all today?”

He tugs at his shirt, then his over-shirt. Checks his expression in the little window that shows what he looks like. A strand of hair is sticking up a little, and he tugs it back into place.

People keep trickling in, the chat on Bubble picking up slowly but surely.

It’s not like he’s horribly nervous. Just a little. Being live, being expected to entertain, with no way to rest or edit, it always sets him on edge a little bit.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long. How have you been? Have you been well?”

His voice wobbles a bit, but then it settles. He takes a shaky breath in.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: y/nie 🌸💦 deep breaths, jagi you’re doing great

The smile that steals onto his face is real, his heart doing a little flip in his chest.

“I’ve been well, thank you,” he says, looks up at the camera, “you’ve been giving me lots of strength.”

He’s saying it to the audience, yes, but he hopes you know it’s also for you.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 ah I love you so much you’re so cute

Okay, he’s blushing now. Jisung leans back, watches his own glowing cheeks.

“I-I just got these earrings,” he hurries out, tugs at the little silver rings in his ears, “do you like them? I’ve been liking wearing earrings lately.”

The chat flies past. They do seem to like them. It makes him feel a little calmer.

from: hyung 😼🍆 the cutest

Jisung blushes harder, kicks his feet a little bit under the table. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the chat.

Ah, you’re so cute, Han-ah Why are you shy?

“Ah, I’m shy because you’re all very nice to me,” he says, blinks up at the camera, then back down, when his heart starts to race. But the spell of the first nerves is finally broken.

He chats here and there. Answers some questions, takes a few sips of his Iced Americano. Then a familiar comment pops up. It makes his smile dim.

“You can see my beard marks?” he asks, laughing awkwardly, “I shaved this morning and I even put on make-up, and you can still see them?”

Almost immediately, a message pops up on the top.

from: hyung 😼🍆 did they say something bad about your beard

Jisung can feel the protectiveness from here. It makes his cheeks warmer.

from: hyung 😼🍆 don’t listen to them, jagi your stubble is so fucking sexy you’re gorgeous

Jisung takes a deep breath, swipes back to Bubble. Similar messages greet him there, people defending him, calling it cute. Some people still question it, but he no longer cares.

from: hyung 😼🍆 our pretty boy our perfect boy y/nie thinks so, too

Jisung breathes out a flustered little chuckle, his cheeks burning hotter. Quickly, he opens the group chat.

From: jisung hyunggggggg stop ittttt I’m liveeeee

Jisung can hear Minho’s little chuckle in his head. You’re probably lying on his chest, reading their conversation. Absentmindedly, he brings the back of his hand to his cheek, trying to cool down.

He swipes back to Bubble and is about to answer a question someone sent about his most recent song when another message pops up

from: hyung 😼🍆 such a nice voice, too getting someone all riled up and needy in my lap

Jisung’s mouth runs dry. He mumbles something about having slept at 3am before he swipes back to the group chat.

from: jisung hyung…

from: hyung 😼🍆 what, baby? you don’t want to see?

Jisung fidgets nervously. Oh, this is so payback for last time when you and him did this to Minho. And he’s already half hard about it, heat pooling in his abdomen, cock filling out even faster because he knows how many people are watching.

from: jisung you know I do …

from: hyung 😼🍆 yeah? ask nicely, then

From: jisung 😑 hyungie pleasseeee~~~~ let me see her let me see you

The response is instant. Like the video was already filmed and Minho only had to click send. Damn him. He knew Jisung would fold.

from: hyung 😼🍆 <j29shl1998k.mp4>

It takes everything in Jisung to be patient, to swipe back to Bubble and find a message he can answer to buy himself some time. He mumbles something about tteokbokki being too spicy while he’s already swiping back again.

He clicks his volume down a million times, double, then triple checks it, and then finally holds his breath and presses play.

The video is only 10 seconds long. You’re lying on Minho’s chest, between his spread legs, but he can’t see you or Minho’s face. All he can see is your hips, your ass in your favourite sweats, subtly, slowly grinding, forwards. Jisung wishes he could turn up the volume because he knows you’re probably making the sweetest little sounds, and Minho is probably murmuring filthy nothings into the camera that would make a shudder run down Jisung’s spine.

Without the sound, it’s easy for Jisung to focus on all the details he can see, though. On the way your toes are curled in your socks. The way Minho’s legs spread wider, the muscles in his thigh jumping with a particularly good roll of your hips.

It ends all too soon.

He wants more. So much more. But he knows he can’t let that show or Minho will break this whole thing off. So he swipes back to Bubble, raises his head, his glowing cheeks stupidly obvious in the camera. He can play it off with Stay, can say it’s warm in the room. But you and Minho will know better.

He watches the comments run through, lets himself get distracted as he waits to see if Minho will do anything else.

“13 reached 3 million views on Youtube? Really? I didn’t know that,” he exclaims with a smile at the camera, and he’s actually impressed how normal his voice sounds. And three million! For a SKZ Record, one that is so dear to him, too.

A message pops up at the top of his screen.

from: hyung 😼🍆 did you watch it?

Jisung grins to himself. Maybe he wasn’t being as obvious as he thought.

He picks his next words carefully.

From: jisung I did

Then he swipes back to Bubble.

“Ah, yes, I still watch EXchange, though not as much as I did when I wrote that song. Life has been busy lately.”

Who has time to watch EXchange when there are almost always one or two people in your bed, indulging your need for naps and cuddles and blowjobs and unimaginably filthy marathon sex.

“Yes, we’re working on music. Of course. We always are!”

That, too. But the filthy marathon sex …

As if on cue, another message from Minho pops up.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jisungie, are you playing coy with me? do you think I don’t know you want more

Leisurely, Jisung swipes back to his messages.

from: jisung of course I want more, hyungie but I was trying to be patient be good for hyung

from: hyung 😼🍆 are you hard?

from: jisung a little … :3

from: hyung 😼🍆 I am someone got so needy she needed something in her mouth and you know how good her mouth is

Jisung’s body responds almost instantly. His cock twitches. Of course, he knows how your mouth is.

Jisung knows he could play coy again. He could wait it out, bait Minho into asking him again. But the knowledge of thousands of eyes on him and the thought of you, back at the dorm, in his bed …

From: jisung ok, hyung, I’ll bite pleaseee? can I see???

He swipes back to Bubble as fast as he can.

“‘Is it raining in Seoul?’ Ah, it’s not. It’s sunny,” he mumbles before he looks at the camera through his lashes. “The weather is really nice today.”

from: hyung 😼🍆 😺 <j39sh2kl478.mp4>

Jisung swipes back to his chat and nearly chokes from the thumbnail alone. Your head between Minho’s thick thighs, Minho’s hand in your hair.

But before he can click play, another message comes in.

from: hyung 😼🍆 fuck, baby the weather’s nice, huh fuck, I love you

It’s like Jisung can hear how turned on Minho is, and it sends him reeling. He punches the volume down button on his phone another few times and finally clicks on the video.

Minho is still in the same place he was on the bed, but his sweatpants are rucked down, pushed down enough to expose his cock. You’re lying in between his legs, back arched prettily, one of your hands wrapped around Minho’s thigh, your head bobbing up and down.

Not much is visible from how Minho is holding the camera, your face, and mouth obscured, but you’ve got him deep, your nose bumping into the trimmed hair above Minho’s cock, and it makes Jisung dizzy with want.

Minho’s hand is laced into your hair, leaving you to do as you please, until he suddenly pushes you down. You go willingly, let Minho wiggle your head back and forth before he pulls you back and up, pulling your mouth off his cock slowly, inch by inch, your unfocused eyes staring into the camera. It’s fucking obscene how much of his cock was inside your mouth, and Jisung thinks he might pass out. When the head of Minho’s cock pops free, and it slaps against his abdomen, Jisung nearly moans out loud.

Minho lets go of your hair and Jisung assumes he said something to you because the prettiest little smile tugs at your lips before you give Minho the filthiest bedroom eyes, right past the camera, and lean back to suck his cock back into your mouth.

When the video ends, Jisung wants to scream.

Still dizzy, he clears his throat and swipes back to Bubble. His mind is anywhere but here, but he dutifully scans the questions and babbles something about American cheesecake at some restaurant they went to.

Directly in his eye line, just below where he’s holding his phone, his cock is now rock solid, tenting the front of his sweats. There’s a little wet patch darkening the fabric, and Jisung has what he thinks is his best idea yet.

He looks up at the camera with an innocent smile, acting like he’s staring at Stay, but really he’s gauging just how far down the camera can see. He figures it’s high enough. He leans back, slouches a little, pretends to be engrossed in Stay’s comments, even lets out a little laugh like someone just said something funny.

Carefully, he swipes over to his camera app. Then, with his heart beating in his throat, he carefully grabs his waistband and tugs it up enough so his hard, leaking cock is visible. He snaps the picture, swipes back to Bubble.

“‘Is Alien still your favourite song?’ I think so! Though I have written a lot of songs that haven’t come out yet,” he comments casually, though he thinks he can hear his arousal in his own voice. It’s just a little more gravelly. A little lower.

from: hyung 😼🍆 you really watched it, huh I can hear it in your voice fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re turned on

Minho doesn’t usually say things like this, not on their main phones, not so candid, not with so many swear words – not unless he’s really turned on. And Jisung is about to put the final nail in the coffin.

From: jisung hyung :( look what you did <IMG_83792871.jpeg>

Jisung blinks up at the camera, his cheeks still flushed, his pupils blown to shit. 50 thousand people are watching. His cock twitches. He smiles.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jisung you didn’t oh my fucking god tell me you didn’t take that just now while you were live

Hook, line, and sinker.

Jisung takes his time. Talks about tanghulu, how he tried it with Felix, how he liked strawberry the most. How he heard that tomatoes aren’t really considered a sweet fruit.

from: hyung 😼🍆 jiji it’s y/nie had to confiscate min’s phone he was blowing my back out and just nearly came when you sent that picture

Jisung nearly laughs out loud.

you’re so fucking gorgeous our gorgeous gorgeous boy your live is still playing I can’t stop looking at you

Heat. All the way up to his ears. And pooling in his abdomen.

Gingerly, he reaches down, wraps a hand around his cock loosely, through the thick material of his sweats. He just squeezes once and pleasure cascades down his spine. He lets out a shaky sigh.

from: hyung 😼🍆 it’s hyung again come home right now <j39sln8jmn2.mp4>

Jisung doesn’t even look at the video yet. He takes a deep breath, every one of his nerve endings on fire, his body screaming out for some relief, for him to touch himself, for them to touch him.

“Stay, I will have to leave now,” he purrs at the camera, gives them his biggest doe eyes, a sweet, innocent smile. He lets his voice drop even lower. “Thank you for keeping me company today. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for everything you do for me. I love you. Have a good day. Bye.”

And he smiles again, winks when he gets close to the camera, right before he turns the live off.

When it’s off and silent in the room, he blinks, double checks that it’s off. Closes the app and turns off the company phone for good measure. Then he rips his hoodie from the back of his chair and shoves it between his legs.

The first grind of his hips is heavenly. He slides down the chair, his head thudding against the back of his chair with a dull thud. He’s so sensitive it almost hurts.

Gingerly, carefully, he sets a slow rhythm. On a particularly good thrust, a tiny moan falls from his lips.

Dimly, he remembers the video, but he’s got other plans. He unlocks his phone with shaky fingers, opens the camera and sets it to selfie mode, hits record. Then he props it against the tripod that was holding the company phone for the live.

It’s better than the live because he knows who will watch this one. He smiles at the camera, turns sideways so he’s perfectly in frame, and grinds his hips up. He doesn’t hold back his moan, lets his eyes flutter shut, his head loll back against the seat again.

He builds up a rhythm again. It’s erratic, choppy, his hips jittering up inconsistently because he’s been so hard for so long that every brush against his cock nearly sends him over the edge. If it wasn’t for them, he would be embarrassed. But he knows they will love it. Eat it up, the fact that he’s humping his sweater, about to cum after three minutes just from Minho’s filthy words, some lewd videos, one of which he hasn’t even watched.

The thought of it makes him chase his high harder, grind his hips deeper into the soft material, his fingers fisting into the hoodie until the rings on his fingers bite into his skin.

“A-ah,” he breathes out, “c-can’t … w-won’t last.”

His voice is breathy, whiny, scarily loud in the empty room. But it only adds to the thrill. That someone could walk by and hear him. Minho would call him desperate. You would call him a filthy pervert, would probably wrap your hand around his throat and slap his cock.

His back arches, his whole body locks up, and he’s cumming. He fucks up into the soft warmth of his sweats, his hoodie, unloads ropes and ropes of his sticky cum, making a show of it for the camera, bucking his hips, milking himself dry.

He reaches for his phone before he’s even come down, a particularly delicious aftershock making him visibly shiver as he grabs for the camera.

Looking at himself, he preens. He looks deliciously fucked out.

“Thanks f-for keeping me company today,” he rasps into the camera.

He shuts off the recording, swipes over to the chat and sends it unseen.

It doesn’t even take ten seconds before Minho replies.

from: hyung 😼🍆 get the fuck home right now

ᡣ𐭩 THREE

“… we are Stray Kids,” Chan announces into the quiet of the hotel room. Jisung bows and says it with him on autopilot, at this point.

They’re all piled into Changbin and Hyunjin’s hotel room, scattered over one of the beds, Jisung and Minho leaning against the headboard, Chan sitting right in front of Minho with Felix nearly splayed over his lap, Hyunjin and Changbin leaning against the foot of the bed. Jeongin is in a seat off to Jisung’s right, and Seungmin lounges on the bed in front of him.

It’s not late by any means, but jet lag has Jisung in a vice grip. He was already half asleep, snuggled into your arms in your hotel room down the hall, when Chan called them all together to go live. Minho had to bribe him with snacks, you had to promise him unlimited kisses, before he finally hauled himself out of bed, shoved a beanie onto his head and let Minho drag him down the hall.

But now the soft, padded headboard against his back, the pillow on his lap, Minho’s soft breathing next to him … he can feel himself getting drowsy again. As carefully as he can, he stretches his leg out until his knee rests against Minho’s thigh.

Minho looks over at him immediately, cocks an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move away. It makes Jisung feel all warm and fuzzy inside. A yawn tugs at him, and he pulls the collar of his sweater up over his mouth, but when he does, he is hit with a whiff of your perfume. It makes him yawn even harder. What he would give to be able to sneak out, back down the hallway, and slip under the warm blankets with you, soft skin all sleep warm and ready for him to glue himself to.

“Yah,” Changbin yells, and Jisung startles. He makes a small, unhappy sound in the back of his throat and out of the corner of his eyes he sees Minho throw him a sweet little smile, eyes brimming with love. His pinky stretches until he can gently graze Jisung’s knee. The small touch sends shivers all over Jisung’s body, and Minho sees that, too. He rewards him with another raised eyebrow.

But Jisung is already far gone again. Felix is saying something about a fashion show he went to recently. His phone buzzes where it’s lying between his thighs and Jisung picks it up without a second thought.

When he unlocks it, he’s greeted with a picture of your bare legs on the white hotel sheets next to your laptop with the live open, Jisung’s boxers stretched over your thighs, little white ankle socks hugging your feet. Pretty.

In miny/nsung🍡 from: y/nie 🌸💦 <IMG_2763379.jpg> supporting you from 4 doors down also tell chan I want my cuddle partner back :(

Jisung bites back his smile, lets his eyes linger on the skin of your thighs for a second longer, before he swipes back to Bubble. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Minho open the message. He doesn’t really react, but he looks at the picture for a long time, before he clicks on the message bar. Jisung watches as he types.

from: hyung 😼🍆 your cuddle partner is about to fall asleep live on youtube

from: y/nie 🌸💦 free him 🗣️🗣️ let him come back to me I promise I’ll treat him so well

It’s just a throwaway comment, most likely innocent, but in his hazy state Jisung’s brain immediately goes down a very different path. Maybe if he asked really nicely, you would wrap your soft hands around his cock. Or even suck him off. He’s always out like a light after a good blowjob.

Minho looks over at him and huffs out a laugh.

from: hyung 😼🍆 your cuddle partner is getting horny

from: y/nie 🌸💦 😼😼😼 I think I know how to keep him awake

from: hyung 😼🍆 y/nie be good

from: y/nie 🌸💦 of course, daddy when am I not 😇

Minho fidgets next to Jisung and Jisung giggles quietly.

Drowsily, he tunes back into the conversation around them. Chan is talking about a moment at a recent fan meet, where the pyrotechnics didn’t go off as planned. Jisung speaks up a little, mimics Chan’s hand movement, laughs with Felix when he mimics Chan’s confused, disappointed face.

When his phone buzzes, he doesn’t even notice. But Minho next to him does. He freezes for a solid three seconds, before he scrambles to turn down the brightness.

As inconspicuously as possible, Jisung lets his eyes trail over and oh. You sent another picture.

You’re no longer in bed, no, you’re kneeling in front of the full-length mirror that’s attached to one of the walls next to the bed. Your little socks are still on, and so are Jisung’s boxers, but you have one thumb hooked into the front of them. That and you have Minho’s shirt rucked up all the way to your chin, your tits bare. Jisung salivates.

Minho is still typing out a response when another message comes in. A video this time.

Minho’s thumb finds the volume buttons immediately, clicks them down so aggressively his phone almost flies out of his hand. Jisung will definitely tease him for his eagerness later – when he’s not equally desperate to see.

It’s not a long video, and it takes Jisung a minute to figure out how it’s different from the picture you sent, but then he sees it. Your hand. Down the front of your … his … boxers. The subtle movement, your legs slipping further and further apart, your hips grinding in small motions.

Jisung scrambles for his own phone so fast he bumps into Seungmin, who turns around and eyes him suspiciously. But Jisung just mumbles out an apology before he unlocks his phone, already punching down the volume and sliding down the brightness to the minimum.

On his own phone, one he can hold so close to his face, the video is even better. The motion of your fingers, your chest heaving a little when you touch yourself just right. His fucking boxers. He’ll steal them and wear them tomorrow, and then Minho can suck your scent off his cock when he blows him and …

Jisung’s wide a-fucking-wake now.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 aw looks like that worked looks like jisungie liked it did you like it too, daddy?

It’s brazen, calling Minho daddy twice like that …

Jisung shudders at the thought of the potential punishment Minho might dole out later. But really, Minho mostly looks flustered. His face is unreadable, but his breath is coming quicker and his ears are a dangerous shade of red.

from: hyung 😼🍆 careful, kitten don’t want our jisungie to get hard here where everyone can see

from: y/nie 🌸💦 what about you, daddy? not scared you’ll get hard?

from: hyung 😼🍆 I have a little more self-control than that, sweetheart

from: y/nie 🌸💦 hmm sounds like I need to try harder thankfully, I have just the thing

Silence for a second, then a picture. Jisung nearly chokes on his spit.

Two silicone dildos. One bright pink, veiny, big. Another almost translucent purple, a little smaller, also veiny, with a bulbous head. They’re almost like …

from: y/nie 🌸💦 it was really hard to find ones to match your sizes :( it’s the best I could do I brought them all this way just for you do you like them?

Minho takes a shaky breath next to Jisung, and Jisung’s fingers move before Minho can even finish his thought.

from: jisung fuck 🤤 I do, baby

from: y/nie 🌸💦 I knew you would, Jiji I also got a double ended one it’s at home maybe we can try it soon

Next to Jisung, Minho swallows thickly, grabs his hoodie from next to him and drapes it over his lap.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 does daddy not like them? :(

from: hyung 😼🍆 kitten, I’m warning you

from: y/nie 🌸💦 but daddy it feels so good inside of me

Without warning, another picture pops up, and this time Minho actually does drop his phone. Thankfully, it lands screen down on his lap because Chan in front of him turns around instantly. He takes one look at Minho’s burning cheeks, looks from him to Jisung, who’s equally flushed, pressing the pillow on his lap harder against his crotch, and furrows his brows.

“Behave,” he mouths at them, and Jisung nods quickly.

from: y/nie 🌸💦 aw, did I fluster daddy?

He unlocks his phone, holds it as close to himself as possible to make sure Jeongin doesn’t accidentally see … you, still in front of the mirror with your shirt rucked up over your tits, but with your lower half bare now, sitting on the massive pink dildo, your wet folds wrapped around the thing snugly.

Jisung’s cock fills out so fast it makes his toes tingle.

Jeongin narrows his eyes at him and Jisung blushes deeper, making Jeongin give him a look that says You’re doing something weird. I’m onto you. Jisung doesn’t even pretend to be offended. He’s never had a poker face.

Mercifully for them (and tragically, for Jisung’s raging boner), you don’t send any more pictures or messages for a few minutes. Seungmin ropes Minho into a joke, Jisung has to say something about his instagram posts.

And just as his hard-on is starting to go down, finally, with all the talk about work, all the eye contact with his members, his phone buzzes. Minho’s holding his, Bubble open, reading through the live chat and Jisung watches as he freezes again, but this time, he pales. Then he swipes over to the chat.

His fist tightens in the material of his hoodie so hard his knuckle cracks, and Jisung has never unlocked his phone so fast in his life.

The sight that greets him makes him briefly squeeze his eyes shut. When he opens them, Jeongin is staring at him again, but Jisung ignores him. Instead, he makes double, triple, quadruple sure his phone is on silent, before he clicks on the video.

Mirror. Floor. You, perched in front of it. Naked now, except for those stupid little socks that make Jisung light-headed. Sitting on the pink dildo, still, but also … Jisung swallows hard … also the purple one.

Your pretty lips are parted, your face flushed with the effort. Your eyes are hazy as you blink at the camera with so much desperation, Jisung gets even dizzier. You’re supporting yourself on the side of the bed, your free hand digging into your thigh as you languidly bounce on the dildos, both of them, squeezed together, disappearing into you again and again. With a pretty toss of your head, you roll your hips a little more, and it makes your back arch beautifully, head falling back in what Jisung knows must be a beautiful moan – one he can’t hear.

He thinks the video is about to end but then you lift yourself up, up, until first the smaller, then the bigger one slips out of you, before you make a beautiful, dizzying, absolutely obscene show of sinking down on them again, your fingers sliding down to your clit. Then the video ends for good.

Jisung’s mouth is as dry as sandpaper when he tries to swallow.

He thinks he might go insane. You’re down the hall, only a few rooms away, fucking yourself on a piece of silicone when he’s– when they’re right here, stretching yourself out on two dildos that you bought with the intention of them feeling like them, and they’re talking to a camera about Felix’s fucking tanghulu.

Chan claps his hands so suddenly both Minho and Jisung nearly jump out of their skins.

“Well, let’s wrap it up,” he exclaims and makes to get off the bed. Oh no.

Jisung … panics. He throws a glance over at Minho, who is frozen, the tips of his ears still bright red, eyes glassy and panicked as he watches Chan walk over to the phone.

As subtly as he can, Jisung experimentally presses the pillow on his lap down, and he almost shudders. Yep. He’s rock fucking hard and there’s a rapidly cooling wet spot in his boxers that, if he’s unlucky, has soaked through his sweats.

“Goodbye, Stay, say goodbye everyone!” Chan singsongs, and Jisung mimics him, forces a smile and a big wave. Chan shuts off the live and everyone starts chattering.

Jisung meets Minho’s eyes, who just blinks at him, then nods to the door.

Jisung turns and comes face to face with Jeongin, who’s staring straight at him, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“What were you two doing?” he asks, and Jisung pales. Seungmin in front of him turns around and eyes Jisung.

“What happened?” he asks and Jisung blinks at him, too, his brain scrambling to come up with something, anything to say.

“Minho-hyung and Jisung-hyung were being weird,” Jeongin explains to Seungmin before he turns back to Jisung. “Were you sexting Y/N or something …?

”He clearly means it as a joke, but when Jisung doesn’t respond and only blinks at him dumbly, his eyes widen.

“Oh … my fucking god. You were, weren’t you. You were sexting during the live,” he screeches, his voice getting progressively louder until Jisung realises everyone is staring at him. And he just … breaks.

He squeals, throws the pillow off his lap and runs out of the room, scrambling down the dull, carpeted hallway, all the way to your hotel room. In front of the door, he pauses, tries to catch his breath, but his heart is pounding in his ears and his cock is still so fucking hard, and you’re right on the other side of the door and Minho … oh God, he really abandoned Minho.

Should he go back? How could he have just left him there?! Minho’s probably hard, too. He was so pale. And now … with Jeongin announcing it to everyone.

He’s just about to walk back when Minho appears in the hallway. He looks murderous as he stalks towards him, a pretty blush on his cheeks and an even prettier bulge in the front of his sweats. His gaze pins Jisung in place, his heart thumping louder the closer he gets. Jisung takes a few steps backwards, until his back hits the wall. Minho comes to a halt dangerously close to him, so close, Jisung’s panicked breaths puff against his full lips.

“‘M sorry, hyung,” Jisung squeaks out, “I … I panicked …”

Minho’s gaze falls down to his lips, and Jisung’s tongue instinctively darts out to wet them.

“Unlock the door,” Minho growls.

When Jisung doesn’t immediately move, he gets closer, all but pinning Jisung against the wall.

“Unlock. The fucking. Door, Jisung,” Minho warns, and this time Jisung moves. He shoves his hands into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out the keycard, scrambles over to shove it into the slot.

The lock clicks open and Jisung doesn’t even have time to react before Minho pushes the door open and shoves Jisung inside. Jisung stumbles into the room and the first thing he sees is you. You’re still perched in front of the mirror, a shit-eating grin on your fucked out face.

“Took you long enough,” you hum, and Minho pushes past Jisung, who watches breathlessly as Minho hauls you off the floor and up into his arms before he crashes his lips into yours.

It’s a greedy kiss, tongue, teeth, punishment and desire, and it makes more heat pool in Jisung’s abdomen. Absentmindedly, he palms the front of his sweats, one hand travelling under his hoodie, touching his skin.

Minho spins you around and pushes you onto the bed so hard you yelp and bounce on the mattress, before he turns around to Jisung.

“Clothes, off. On the bed,” he orders and Jisung complies so fast he gets all tangled up in his sweatshirt and his t-shirt, then nearly falls over when he tries to step out of his sweats.

Jisung feels Minho’s eyes glued to him as he approaches the bed, strokes his cock twice as he looks at you, spread out and smiling up at him as if you hadn’t been the world’s biggest temptress for the last hour.

Jisung crawls over you, and at the first touch of heated skin on heated skin, he mewls out. It’s what his body has been craving ever since Minho dragged him out of bed earlier.

You meet him happily, soft lips finding his in a kiss that’s sweet for only a second before it turns hungry, dragging him closer until his chest is flush with yours, his cock trapped between you, rubbing against your belly with every one lick into his mouth and Jisung swears he’s in heaven.

But then Minho’s hands find his hips and when he turns around, Minho is shirtless, squeezing at his cock through his sweats as he watches you and Jisung on the bed, and Jisung thinks that this, this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

“Fuck me,” you pant out below Jisung and Minho squeezes his cock harder. “‘M all ready. Stretched myself out for you. For you both. I want you.”

Jisung’s cock twitches helplessly between you, and he grinds his hips forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the soft, slightly salty skin there.

“Jisung, on your back and you, kitten, sit on his cock,” Minho orders and Jisung happily complies, flips the two of you over and shimmies you up until his back is against the sheets, his head in the pillows. You kiss him one more time, slow and deep, before you sit up and line yourself up with Jisung’s cock.

The slide is so easy it punches a guttural moan deep out of Jisung’s chest. You bottom out immediately, making the prettiest sounds, your pussy so hot and wet and tight around his stupidly sensitive cock that he has to bite his lips hard so he doesn’t come immediately.

Minho winds his fingers into your hair and yanks your head back, making you clench hard around Jisung’s cock, tearing another pitiful moan from him.

“Let’s see if you need those stupid little toys, hm,” he rasps, his voice betraying just how gone he really is, before he drags you into an open-mouthed kiss, prying your jaw open with his tongue, until he can lick inside. It’s so possessive it makes Jisung shiver underneath you, his hips stuttering up, desperately seeking friction.

When Minho pulls back, a string of spit connects your lips to his and Jisung is about to surge up to lick it off their lips when Minho places his hand between your shoulder blades and pushes you down until you’re flush against Jisung’s chest.

You blink up at him blearily, and you’re so fucking beautiful like this that Jisung can’t resist. He dips down to kiss you, tenderly, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste Minho on your tongue, as his arms wind around your waist, pulling you ever closer.

When he pulls back, he meets Minho’s eyes. He’s fully naked now, hovering over the two of you, and he stares Jisung right in the eyes as he pushes the head of his cock against your hole, against the sensitive underside of Jisung’s cock.

You moan headily into Jisung’s neck.

“Gimme … give it to me. I’m ready,” you whine, and Minho responds by pressing his hips closer, until the head of his cock pops in.

You and Jisung moan out at the same time, the added pressure of Minho’s hot, pulsing cock, sliding against his, it’s almost too much. And yet Jisung craves more.

Minho rocks his hips forward carefully, fucks in deeper and deeper with every thrust, moulding his way into your body until you’re shivering, panting in Jisung’s arms. He winds them tighter, soothes fingertips up your naked spine, presses kisses and soft words into your forehead and your cheeks.

When Minho finally bottoms out, the head of his cock pushing against Jisung’s, he’s a flushed, sweaty mess. Jisung watches a droplet of sweat run down the side of his neck and down the valley between his pecs, and he wishes he could lean up to kiss it. But you’re still on top of him, your cunt pulsing around them, slicker and slicker with every passing second.

When Minho shallowly pulls out and fucks back in, he rubs against Jisung just right. His head falling back against the pillows as pleasure shivers up his spine. He doesn’t realise Minho has folded himself over them until he feels Minho cradle his face and pull him in for a kiss that is way too soft for the position they find themselves in.

As if to highlight just that, he pulls back and fucks into you hard, making you mewl against Jisung’s shoulder and Jisung himself moan into Minho’s mouth, Minho’s lips sliding down to his chin, leaving a hot trail of spit behind.

“Fuck,” Minho groans, and fucks in again. “Fucking perfect.”

You shudder with the praise.

As your body adjusts, the slide gets easier, wetter, until Minho’s cock is ramming into you at an unforgiving pace, jostling you up into Jisung’s arms, and Jisung further and further up the bed, until he has to press a palm against the headboard to keep himself in place.

When he cautiously starts rolling his own hips in time with Minho’s thrusts, pleasure hits him so hard he nearly blacks out. His mouth slides open, and he feels drool slip down his cheek, but there’s nothing he can do but take it, shallowly fucking upwards as Minho fucks you both into the mattress.

Jisung’s orgasm creeps up on him slowly, but it overwhelms him so suddenly that it sends him reeling, Minho’s cock, your fluttering pussy, milking him, prolonging the pleasure until his whole body feels numb.

“Do you … fuck, do you want to pull out, Jisungie?” Minho asks, slowing his thrusts down enough for Jisung to catch his breath, but your walls fluttering, Jisung’s cum slowly running down his cock, coating your walls and making the slide impossibly slicker, it makes it hard. Jisung shakes his head.

“N-no, keep going,” he mumbles, “I like the way it hurts.”

When Minho picks up the pace, fucks in impossibly deeper alongside Jisung’s spent cock, the oversensitivity makes Jisung’s entire body spasm. Against his chest, you’ve turned into a babbling, drooling mess.

“See, baby,” Minho growls, noses at your shoulder as his hips stutter, “you don’t need those stupid toys when we can fuck you so much better.”

You don’t even open your eyes, just nod, another weak moan, tumbling from your slick lips.

“So good, Min, s-so much better, oh, s-so fucking g-good oh, I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.”

And cum you do, nails digging into Jisung’s shoulder, your moans muffled in his sweaty shoulder, clenching so hard around Jisung that the overstimulation makes tears prick in Jisung’s eyes.

Minho fucks you through your high before he leans forward, buries his teeth in your shoulder, shoves himself as deep as he can go, and lets go. The feeling of his cock, pulsing, shooting ropes of cum into you, enveloping Jisung’s spent cock in more heat.

One of Minho’s arms gives out, and he almost collapses on top of you, only lets himself fall onto Jisung’s free side at the last second. He crashes against Jisung so hard it punches the air out of his lungs.

But he forgets any complaint he wanted to make when he feels Minho’s hot breath, his nose nuzzling into his neck.

After a few moments of silence, Jisung tries to move underneath you but finds himself entirely trapped under two hot, sweaty bodies.

“You’re very heavy,” he presses out, and you giggle, press a soft little kiss against his shoulder. Minho just hums against his neck.

“Just one more minute.”

Jisung sighs, wraps his left arm around you, and his right arm around Minho, and closes his eyes.

“One more minute.”

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[ln4smiamitrophy]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

𐙚 summary; the one where lando wins the grand prix on his girlfriend’s birthday weekend

ʚɞ pairing; lando norris x reader (established relationship)

ᡣ𐭩 fc; your beautiful self

⭒ type; irl (& a smidge of smau)

⟡ a/n; IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!! i’m sorry for not posting for ages, i’ve been really busy but i have more time now. i promise to continue my series’ as soon as i can. xx

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Last lap. Last corner. Last push. And he’s done it. Lando Norris has won the 2024 Hungarian Grand Prix. His second Formula One career win. He can hardly believe it.

You’d been watching the race from the Mclaren garage, biting your nails down to the quick. The nerves were building the longer you watched Lando lead the race. When it hit the 65th lap, so did your tears. You knew he was winning. And he did.

“Woooo! We did it!” He screams down the radio, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he can finally relax. He won. “Happy birthday baby, this one’s for you!”

Hearing his team radio only made you tear up more, the grin on your face widening as you removed your headphones, immediately making your way to the barriers. The mechanics and engineers letting you through to the front, knowing Lando will want to see you.

The adrenaline was still fluttering inside Lando’s heart as he climbed out the car. Getting weighed and then pulling off his helmet and balaclava, placing them down before scanning the crowd for you.

There you are.

The sparkle in his eyes only growing when he’s met with your beaming face, tears still running down it. He ran towards you as fast as his legs would allow him, stopping in front of you. He reaches forward and your arms go to his neck, expecting a hug.

The shock comes when his hands go under your shoulders and he lifts you over the barrier with surprising ease, a squeal leaving your lips at the moment. Your legs find their way around his waist, clinging to him. His hands rest on the underside of your thigh to hold you up.

Your lips meet his in a delicate, loving kiss. He grins against your lips, feeling like the happiest man alive. He’d just won a race and now he’s holding the girl of his wildest dreams in his arms. Why wouldn’t he be?

“I’m so proud of you,” The whisper leaves your mouth, though your lips don’t disconnect from his. “I love you.”

He didn’t realise his smile could get any wider but it did. He chases your lips, a small peck landing on them. “I love you so much sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

The cameras are loving this. Every single lens on the two of you. But you don’t care. Why would you when the only thing that matters is right in front of you?

“My birthday was yesterday Lan.” You tell him, your forehead pressing against him.

He can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips as you remind him. Of course he knows, he’d spent the whole evening after qualifying spoiling you every way he could. “Don’t ruin the moment,” He rolls his eyes at you though there’s nothing malicious to it.

His hands meet your waist as your feet meet the ground once more. You lean up to kiss him again, never wanting to leave him. But you can see his team waiting to congratulate him. “You have a team waiting for you.”

Lando’s head turns as he’s met with a sea of papaya clad mechanics waiting to grant him congratulations. He turns back to you, not wanting to leave but he knowing he has to. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing for a moment as he does.

“I’ll see you on that top step,” You whisper to him, hand sliding down his arm as you remove them from around his neck. He smiles at you before making his way to his team.

———————————————————————

Watching Lando on the podium was something you’d always loved doing. The way he shone was like nothing you’d ever seen. But there was something about him when he was on that top step. It was as if the Gods were bathing him in light. He looked surprisingly angelic for a man who’d just been sweating in a car for the past two hours.

As the British national anthem began, Lando’s eyes couldn’t help but scan the crowd for you. He found you almost instantly, stood next to his dad, grinning widely up at him. He kept eye contact with you the entire time it played, not wanting to look away.

Being on the top step of the podium, receiving that number one trophy was an indescribable feeling. Lando was caught off guard as his fellow drivers who joined him on the podium, Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, drenched him in champagne. He just managed to do his iconic champagne pop, getting his revenge as he sprayed them back.

Shaking the champagne bottle once more, he pointed it over the balcony, aiming down at the crowd below. His eyes falling upon his wonderful girlfriend as he tried to protect her hair from the champagne. This was unbelievable. There was a sea of papaya as the fans watched his podium celebrations.

He loved it so much.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff and others

y/nusername the best birthday weekend ever!! i’m so proud of you baby, i love you

tagged; landonorris

comments…

user1 my parents 🥹

yourbff i miss you, my wife

⤷ y/nusername i miss you more babe

user2 lando’s radio was the cutest thing ever

⤷ user3 “happy birthday baby, this one’s for you” SOBBING 😭😭

mclaren our lucky charm 🧡

landonorris i’m so in love with you

⤷ y/nusername i’m in love with you

user4 if it’s not like them, i don’t want it

oscarpiastri this does not warrant garage pda, i don’t wanna see that

⤷ user5 not oscar exposing them 😭😭

landonorris don’t know how i’m gonna top this know

⤷ y/nusername better get to brainstorming

———————————————————————

taglist: @danielshoe @amorrziinho @urfavwelshie @xylinasdiary @cleaswn @soamericn @marknolee @shineforever19 @formulaal @manicpixiemom @lemon-lav

[melobin]

cockwarming with riize ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

minors dni. @cupidslovearrows hehe enjoy <3

shotaro

shotaro can handle cockwarming, but he doesn’t necessarily like it. he has to be in the mood for it and the majority of the time he isn’t. he likes to be able to move when he’s inside of you, wants to be able to fuck you instead of sitting still. there are the rare occasions he likes it and those tend to be after sex, especially when he’s had a more tiring, draining day. the thought of curling up with you, fucking you slowly whilst making out and then falling asleep being stuffed inside of you is a dream to him. plus, you both wake up needing one another again after so the thinks that’s an added bonus. if you tried to tease him with it, he’d entertain you for a while. letting you play with him until he cannot do it anymore, wouldn’t be afraid to beg quietly in your ear, sweet talking you in a whiny voice about how good you feel when you’re sucking in his cock and how hard you make him cum. knows exactly what to say to you to get you to ride him the way he wants.

eunseok

eunseok would be horrible, to you at least. he has the self restraint to sit with you on his cock for hours, and he’ll do so until you break and beg for him to fuck too. cockwarming isn’t a gentle nor comforting thing with eunseok, it’s borderline a punishment. he just wants to see how long you can last with him stuffed inside of you, stilled. it doesn’t stop when you beg for him to fuck you either, he won’t touch you properly until he’s taunted you. needs to tease you about being so desperate that you have to beg for him to fuck you, so cock hungry that all you can think about is being used by him and filled with him cum. makes sure to say it all lowly in your ear whilst holding you down on his cock, maybe sneaking a hand down to rub slow circles on your clit whilst he does so. makes you fuck yourself on his cock after since you were so needy for it.

sungchan

sungchan cannot handle it at all. he tries, he really does try, but he can’t. whether it’s before or after sex, just the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing around his cock turns him on far too much for him to be able to simply just sit still. if it’s you teasing him, he ends up whining into your neck about how and he needs you to move, needs to feel you fucking yourself on his cock more than anything and he wouldn’t be afraid of begging for it. whines when you tease him about not being able to last too, he’s too sensitive about it. if it’s him teasing you, it won’t last more than thirty seconds even if he’s trying his hardest. he’s just so obsessed with how you feel wrapped around him that he needs to fuck you, ends up fucking you with his head buried in your neck and his fingers gripping the sheets beside your head. usually ends up cumming more than one during those nights too.

wonbin

wonbin is a hit or miss, mainly a miss. whilst he can last, he cannot last long. he tries his hardest but he fails, his will power is not strong enough to deal with you being still whilst hugging his cock. it gets worse if you move at all, any sudden movement has his hands digging into your waist and his heart rate picking up. he’d be letting out shaky breaths whilst he tries to calm himself down but ultimately it fails, would end up fucking you on his cock whilst basking in the way your cunt sobs around his cock. those would be the nights where he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from completely ruining you, just needs to hear you crying out again and again about how good he makes you. if you were to cockwarm him, then he’d be a complete wreck. any form of eye contact would ruin him, if you kissed him then he’d end up whimpering into the kiss, begging quietly with little pleads for you to do something, anything. gets so sweet and thankful when you do, whimpering about how good you feel whilst you milk him with your cunt.

seunghan

seunghan actually adores cockwarming, it’s one of his favourite things to do with you. he’s quite good at separating cockwarming from sex and he often sees it as an act of comfort rather than an act of pleasure or teasing. he just thinks there’s nothing more comforting than laying with you, being able to feel each and every inch of you, inside and out. wants your bare body pressed against his, with your hands on his skin and his cock pressed deep inside of you. despite the comfort of it, he does find it incredibly endearing if you do end up getting needy from it and he’s always happy to fuck you. thrusting slowly up into you whilst keeping you pressed against him and whispering sweet things to you. he’ll want to continue cockwarming after you’ve had sex, just can’t bare to not feel you wrapped around him.

sohee

sohee is a wreck from start to finish. to him, cockwarming is a punishment he absolutely doesn’t want to receive. he likes to think he’s a well mannered, put together man but cockwarming changes all of that. he just can’t do it, the moment he sinks into your heat all he wants to do is pull out and sink back in over and over again, the idea of pushing into you and not moving bothers him deeply. he’s tried it with you before, purely out of curiosity, and he hated it. he blames you, your cunt is just far too tempting for him to be able to keep still when inside of you. it’s just so wet and warm and inviting that he needs to be able to fuck you as soon as he’s pushing into you and he just cannot stay still. his impatience is endearing in a way, especially because of how flushed and pouty he gets when you don’t move.

anton

anton actually has a lot of self restraint and will power, years of swimming taught him how to control his body and it’s incredibly useful in all situations. however, being stuffed inside your cunt and being unable to move is not one of them. cockwarming came about because you wanted to play a game to see who could go the longest without moving and anton wanted to entertain you, he also really wanted to win, he just underestimated his ability to be able to hold himself back when it comes to you. hint, he lost. he did find there to be some aspects of comfort and a lot of warmth with it, but he feeling of his cock throbbing with your walls tightly hugging him overpowered the comfort a lot and made it almost painful for him. if he’s hard to the point it hurts, then he knows he needs to fuck you and that’s how he ended up during cockwarming.

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE when you sleep on the couch after an argument

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

You and Shotaro usually didn’t argue much, but sometimes you had small fights that really bothered you, especially since, even when Shotaro apologized, he wouldn’t admit that it was his fault. That night, you just didn’t feel like continuing the argument, so you grabbed your things and went to sleep on the couch in the living room.

It took you a while to fall asleep because it was uncomfortable, but you eventually managed. What you didn’t expect was to wake up the next morning to find Shotaro sitting on the floor, resting his head beside you while holding your hand. When he saw you didn’t come back to the bedroom the night before, he had come looking for you and found you asleep in the living room. Feeling guilty, he had fallen asleep on the floor beside you. The gesture touched your heart, though you felt bad seeing how he had slept.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

You were too stressed to handle Eunseok’s usual teasing. That’s why, before going to bed, you had a small argument because he said something that really bothered you, but he refused to apologize. Tired, you decided to end the argument by leaving the bedroom and going to sleep in the living room. Although it wasn’t very comfortable, you fell asleep pretty quickly.

The next morning, you were surprised to find breakfast ready on the table, with Eunseok sitting next to you, gently stroking your head to wake you up.

“Wake up, princess… I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve apologized. Did you sleep well? Do you want me to give you a massage?”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

That night, you weren’t in the mood, but Sungchan didn’t notice and started tickling you and teasing you. You told him several times to stop, that you weren’t in the mood, but he didn’t listen, which made you angry enough to leave the room.

You decided to sleep on the couch because you were feeling too sensitive to handle Sungchan’s teasing that day. To your surprise, Sungchan came into the living room and stood there, watching you settle down on the couch, ready to sleep.

“No, I’m not going to let you sleep here,” he said as he walked over and easily scooped you up into his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom. “If you need to be alone, I’ll go to the living room, but I’m not letting you sleep out here,” he said as he gently placed you on the bed.

“Just… let’s sleep,” you said, opening your arms. Sungchan smiled and lay down, wrapping his arms around you.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

You were just about to go to bed when you and Wonbin started arguing over something trivial. The argument went on for a few minutes, but since you were so tired, you grabbed a pillow and headed to the living room to sleep on the couch. When Wonbin saw you leaving, he followed you like a lost puppy, asking why you were going.

“Where are you going, babe? I’m sorry… Don’t sleep here, please. You know I get scared sleeping alone,” he said while holding your hand, looking at you with those big puppy eyes you couldn’t say no to.

“You’re way too scared, Wonbin…” you said as you headed back to the bedroom, with him hugging you and smiling softly.

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

On your way back home after having dinner out, you and Seunghan had been arguing the entire time. The reason? Seunghan had watched the latest episode of a show you were watching together without you. It might’ve seemed like a small thing, but it really bothered you, so you argued all the way home.

When you got home, you went to your room, got comfortable, and headed to the couch, deciding to sleep there that night. Seunghan stayed in bed, thinking you’d come back, but after two hours passed and you still weren’t there, he got up and found you asleep on the couch. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh when he saw you.

“Ah… you’re going to catch a cold,” he whispered as he covered you with a blanket. The next morning, the first thing he did was apologize, and you watched the episode together.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

Sohee can be very proud, especially when it comes to winning arguments. Normally, you’d end up agreeing with him, and the two of you would laugh about it, but tonight, you didn’t want to give in. You wanted to see if he would actually admit you were right, just like you had done for him many times before. But no, even when you tried, he still didn’t give in.

It annoyed you a lot, so you decided to go sleep on the couch. Sohee was confused by your reaction and followed you to the living room to see where you were going. When he saw you lying down on the couch, he let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“Y/n, is this because I didn’t admit you were right?” he murmured, crossing his arms. You turned your head away, ignoring him. Sohee sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Fine… you’re right. In fact, you’re always right, y/n. Can we go to bed now, or are we going to sleep uncomfortably together here?”

ᯓ★ ANTON

Even though you had argued over something small during dinner, by the time you were getting into bed, Anton still hadn’t apologized or admitted that what he said was wrong. You gave him one last chance to apologize, but when he stayed silent, you got up and went to sleep on the couch.

It wasn’t comfortable at all, but you started to drift off after a few minutes. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt someone touch your shoulder—Anton. When you saw it was him, you sighed and turned away, but he let out a small laugh, trying to get you to turn back around.

“Y/n, don’t sleep here… I need to hold you when I sleep. I’m sorry for what I said, okay?”

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

[tteokdoroki]

the consequences of constellations izuku midoriya ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!

⋆˙ᝰ about ! you’re in love with your best friend and you’re sleeping with him too… so you count the constellation-like freckles on his back to cope with the idea that he doesn’t love you in the same way. ( 2K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. nsfw, suggestive, smut, angst. characters aged up to 20s, friends with benefits, unrequited love, mutual pining sorta, experimental piece, i wanted to play around with metaphors to do with space, fem!reader, pro hero!deku.

how do you always end up back here?

the answer remains a mystery to you, really. out of all the things that human-kind are capable of, their powers and prettiness, their strength and their stamina — even their knowledge used to invent the space shuttle that traverses the wonders of the uncharted starry abyss…and you still end up here. 

you always end up in the same place — amongst the crumpled linen of pro hero deku’s one bedroom condo. it’s high up enough that it just touches the skyline, it dips past the surface of powder blue skies into the inky black canvas of night to which you find yourself falling victim to sinful touches and muted whispers of pleasure.

it’s the same every time; izuku calls and you answer without hesitation — come rain or shine. you’ll often tumble past the threshold of his apartment with regret and pain pushed to the back of your mind because you’d much rather kiss him and taste the cigarette ash on his tongue in the moment than think logically or have some sense about you. in your world, there’s no better feeling in the world than deku’s masterful, scarred hands spanning out against the base of hour spine or napping out your curves. nothing beats the euphoric high you get from his hips smacking against yours almost in tune with the beat of his heart. 

he pulls you into his orbit. he places himself at the centre of your universe. he fills you up both physically and mentally to the point where every inch of your body and every corner of your heart is overcome with a scorching need for izuku midoriya, like you’ve been engulfed by the sun, it tingles at the tips of your toes and fingers to the top of your head. when he moans your name after every orgasm you share together desire lights up within you like a solar flare — you feel special, desired and maybe even loved.

but this is just sex.

it’s always been just sex, especially to izuku.

there’s a risk in allowing yourself to believe it could ever be anything more, and yet, you can’t stop yourself from indulging in this sweet fantasy every time you end up tangled in the pro hero’s expensive sheets. how could you not when he fucks you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved. 

playing pretend in your head while he sends shooting stars of ecstasy across your line of sight.

shame and regret always hits you like a truck right after — forcing you to deal with the derailing reality that is loving someone who doesn’t want you back and sleeping with them just to get close enough to that feeling of adoration. it’s bad in the morning, but worse at night after deku has cleaned you up with a tender touch and tucked you in for some sleep — rolled onto his side as his own breathing evens out and his consciousness floats away into the depths of deep, empty space. 

you think that he’s still sleeping when the constellations of honey brown freckles on his back begin to blur and your vision swims from unshed tears and you curl in on yourself. claw marks and crescent moons from your perfectly trimmed nails have left their mark on his golden skin, etched between sun-spotted freckles and a collection of faded battle scars — if you look close enough, one might mistake the surface level wounds you’ve left on deku’s body as an attempt at scratching through the space-time continuum to be closer to him. 

izuku stays awake, hoping that you’ll find the strength to get up and leave him so that he doesn’t  have to turn around and pretend to love you again. though, there’s a selfish wish rooted in the back of his mind, longing for you to stay. for you to play make believe for a little longer, to wish upon the North Star and beg for some kind of grace from god — hoping that izuku midoriya will love you some way, somehow. 

he’ll fake it for as long as he can, if it means being the only person to touch you and hold you and kiss you. he’ll pretend to rip every star in the sky for you and breathe false affection past your lips with every kiss if it means he can replace the pain in your lungs and help you breathe a little easier. because in his own twisted way, izuku cares about your feelings…at least to some degree. he’d rather pretend than end things right here, right now. maybe that’s his saviour complex and his instinctual, dire need to save people who doesn’t need saving. 

maybe it’s because this little arrangement has gone on for far too long, to the point where he can’t tell what hurts you or what doesn’t.

when the bulking pro hero shifts beneath the linen sheets, you hand bolts out to grab him — and, as if you’re protecting the embers of a dying flame, a fading star between your fingers, you pull him back into your chest. grasping onto him, holding out for something. you’re afraid that if you let go, izuku will disappear into space’s abyss and you might never get to have him like this again. another selfish wish. this time from you, not from him. 

don’t go. you want to tell him. don’t fizzle away. you want to say. you know that it’s wrong to want to keep someone you can’t, who won’t love you, around. it’s testament to how much respect you have for yourself, how much self worth you have. which, from the looks of it, is little to none. you feel like you might die without izuku, even if what you have of him is so little. a plant with a crane its neck reaching for even the tiniest bit of sunlight to grow… that’s how you feel about izuku’s…affections for you. even if it’s not real love, you still yearn for it and blossom underneath it. even if you should let him go because you love him, you don’t want to.

out of fear that he may not come back. 

when izuku says your name, whispers it into the black hole of the night — he treats it as if it’s made of gold. the syllables heavy on his tongue, weighing it down with a force of gravity. “are you awake?” he adds, despite feeling the shake of your limbs behind him from crying. he speaks slow and tender, the gravel of the early morning still in his voice. 

your breath hitches warmly against his bare back like a mist over his sun spotted freckles. “no.” a dishonest answer that would have given you away instantly had the evergreen haired hero not already been up and listening to you cry. you sound strained, stuffy and he knows your pretty eyes are probably a putrid red and that there’s snot stains left in tracks on his satin sheets. and maybe, if he loved you like he should — this wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t feel so much guilt to the point where he feels sick to his stomach.

loving you is dangerous territory, like a trip to the uncharted parts of deep dark space. the concept alone is terrifying enough to send icy blood through izuku midoriya’s veins where he’s usually so hopeful and fearless. if he lets himself, for even a second, fall in love with you — there would be a chance your life would change for the worse, a chance that you wouldn’t be able to bare the long nights without him or the weeks where he’s gone. you hardly see deku now, how would you cope when he’s finally yours but too far away from you to touch. you could be in the same bed and he would still be light years away, galaxies ahead of your own train of thought because he is constantly thinking of who and how to save next.

not to mention the very fact that his existence is a threat to your livelihood, with villains lurking around every corner just waiting for a chance to make the number one weak…

…loving izuku midoriya would be like standing still in the middle of a hurricane on jupiter. 

no one would be able to withstand the largest storm in the universe, not even you, and the strength you find in loving izuku. 

still, you’re a liar and izuku knows it. even if he’s not supposed to. the bed creaks beneath his weight as he rolls over to face you, freckled cheek sinking into the cotton hills on his pillows as he finally sets his emerald sights on you. “you must be dreaming then,” he laughs fondly through his nose when he speaks, bringing a thumb up from underneath the duvet to swipe away your drying tears. the ones you tried so desperately to hide. water doesn’t fall in out space, it drifts endlessly and becomes a liquid with no form. izuku wishes you weren’t crying over him. 

shrugging, you lean into the man’s touch, letting deku cup your cheeks and trace your smile lines that don’t seem so smiley anymore. the early morning moonlight ( the sun has yet to rise ), illuminates the stars in his mossy eyes that practically plead for you to let go, and your heart lurches painfully. he feels sorry for you. “i hope so.” comes your tired whisper. embarrassed and heartbroken, you look away and tuck your face under the duvet — chin brushing your naked shoulders, skin bare and bitten and bruised from the night before. “if i am, i don’t want to wake up.” 

“what happens in your dreams?” capturing your chin between his fingers, izuku tilts your gaze over to him — inquisitive, cautious as if you’re an alien life form and he’s trying his best not to scare you away. he doesn’t quite understand you, why you keep returning to him , only to find yourself naked, vulnerable and heartbroken the next day. 

“you love me back, i think. we’re more than what we are right now.”

bitter selfishness tacks itself to the back of your throat like bile — you know that you’re being unkind and greedy to izuku by voicing your thoughts out loud, begging him for even the tiniest slither of love but what’s worse is the lack of compassion for yourself. the endless torture you inflict on your being just waiting for the number one hero to maybe love you back. 

in away, it makes you deserving of one another. whatever it is that the two of you have is no healthier than a pack of cheap cigarettes from the combini at the top of the road. a nicotine addiction that neither of you seem to be able to quit. humming into the moonlit void, deku brushes a thumb over your streaked, pudgy cheek — tracing the tear stains and the tracks left by the lines in the pillowcase. 

his eyes shimmer like the Milky Way on a clear night as he looks at you, strands of longing twisting within the vibrant green flecks in midoriya’s eyes. it must be lonely for him out there — he’s in another universe of his own and you can hardly compare to or comprehend it. “are you still dreaming?” he asks.

reaching up, you grab his wrist from underneath the covers — feeling his pulse beat steadily underneath the pad of your thumb. “i hope so.” you repeat your words from earlier, lashes fluttering against your cheeks — heart pounding. 

“then i’ll love you how you like,” midoriya agrees, masking his sadness with his signature hero smile. the one he uses to let the people he saves know that everything will be okay. even when it’s not. izuku treats you like a damsel in distress and maybe you are. you need saving from yourself, from him and he knows it. you both do. “at least until you wake up.” 

nodding, you close your eyes and lock off the rest of your senses — listening to only the sounds your steady breathing mingling in your own personal pocket of space. time freezes for the two of you, you don’t know how many light years it’s been before you speak again — but izuku’s warmth is still there, still enveloping you like the brilliant rays of the sun at the centre of your universe. he doesn’t dare cast you out into the icy cold of space. not yet.

“then i’ll try to keep dreaming, i’m not ready to wake up just yet.” comes your quiet voice as you lean forward to press your forehead against izuku’s freckled one.

not yet.

he exhales, deep and sad, but cups your face a little tighter and draws you in a little closer. “me either, not yet.” 

not yet. together, wrapped up in one another, the two of you decide that you'll stay lost in the web of constellations for a little bit longer. 

not yet.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[missnancywritesfanfic]

God I love cowboys and robots.

ONE FOR THE ROAD!

call transcript; “if you’re sure you’re dreaming, then how come it feels more real than it should?”

cw; f!reader, NSFW (mdni) !! dream (?) sex, p -> v, riding, biting, cyborg dick, light praise kink, boothill’s got a lotta nicknames for you, not proofread, this was born from a brainrot created by the multiple boothill edits i don’t apologize, fic below the cut, 1k words

“you’re not even gonna look at me, darlin’?”

a sharp gasp leaves your lips, goosebumps rising on your skin when cold metal thumbs at your clit. something sharp nips at your collarbone, your whine drawing a hearty chuckle.

“c’mon,” boothill purrs against your neck, sharp teeth grazing against your skin. a whine rips from your throat, eyes squeezed shut as your cunt flutters around his metal cock. “won’t you open those pretty eyes f’me?”

his lips press against your jaw, trailing kisses up to your cheek as he fucks into you. he gently nips at the fat of your cheek, your eyes slowly opening to peek at him.

“there we go.” your face burns at the tenderness to his tone, a soft whimper leaving your lips when he slows down a little. “ain’t that better, doll?”

you dumbly nod, soft pants and moans escaping your lips whenever the tip of his cock kisses that spongy spot in your cunt. a loud cry rips from your throat, your back arching off the plush couch and your head lolling to the side when he adjusts the angle of his hips, fucking his dick deeper into you.

has the dreamscape ever felt this realistic for you before? surely not, you think. but there’s no other explanation for it—boothill hadn’t even come to penacony with you, so it must be a dream.

“your pussy’s chokin’ me here, darlin’,” he hisses, a low chuckle leaving his lips, “you really missed me this much?”

it has to be a dream—that’s the only reason why he spreads your legs just a little further before lifting one of them up onto his shoulder, drawing a soft whimper from you at the stretch.

a shiver runs down your spine when his hands run up your waist, cooling your body just a hint from the heat it radiates. your lips part with a moan, back arching as his dick drags against your walls. boothill rasps your name, his fingers icy against your skin as he turns your head to look at him.

when you meet his eyes a toothy grin grows on his face, the sight too boyish for the way he’s bullying his cock into your pussy. his hand moves to thumb at your lips, red eyes giving you a once-over before zoning in on the way you clench around his dick.

“it’s like you’re tryna break me,” boothill drawls, thumbing at your clit again and groaning when more slick gushes out of you. “‘s that what you want? to break me apart so you can keep a part of me w’you?”

“i want—” a strained whine leaves your lips, “—i wan’ you here, boothill.”

“i am here, darlin’.”

you frown, softly groaning when he chuckles at your reaction before unhooking your leg from his shoulder. “‘m serious,” you mumble, your eyes half-lidded. boothill dips his head to kiss the corner of your lips, his thrusts slowing down as he wraps your arms around his neck. “you should be here. w’me.”

there’s a beat of silence before he chuckles again, his voice amused when he says, “i know, doll.” you whimper when his hands grip the back of your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin at the icy touch as he picks you up just enough so he can sit on the couch before settling you on his lap.

a moan rips from your throat when his hand glides up to the small of your back, pushing you into an arch so your chest presses against his own. he nips at your neck as his hands move to your hips, barely giving you a second of respite before he’s guiding you along the length of his cock.

“i’ll c'mere soon enough,” he drawls, pulling at your hair to expose more of your neck. you shudder when his teeth lightly dig into your sensitive skin, your walls clamping around him and drawing a hiss from his lips. “‘m gonna keep you company, pretty.”

his hips rock up into your own, his fingers digging into your skin as he helps you match his pace. “‘m not lettin’ you leave this room when i get here, darlin’—not for a second.”

a low chuckle leaves his lips when you cry out, your warmth fluttering around his dick. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he coos, relishing the sounds of your skin slapping against his own. “it’ll be your reward for bein’ so good while i wasn’t here. how’s that sound?”

the mere thought makes you whine, your eyes barely open as you dumbly nod at his words.

“that’s my good girl,” boothill purrs, capturing your lips in a kiss as he picks the pace of his thrusts. you whimper at the feeling of his fingers digging deeper into your skin, heart thumping in your chest as he drags you along his cock.

his name leaves your lips in a soft cry, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“i got you,” he pants, pressing a quick peck on your lips as he rubs at the small of your back in encouragement. “cum f’me, doll. i’ve got you.”

stars explode behind your eyes, your orgasm hitting you in a way that shouldn’t even be possible in a dream. you tremble in his arms, your body warm against the icy metal of his own. his hands make you ride him through your orgasm, slow and steady.

boothill’s lips press against your shoulder, right above a bite mark he’d left before. your mind feels muddled as he trails kisses up to your lips, gently nipping at the soft flesh. there’s a flutter in your chest when he pulls back, a toothy grin stretching his lips as he brushes your hair back.

“think you can gimme one more, darlin’?”

you whimper at the request, drawing a low chuckle from him. “jus’ one more,” he purrs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “for the road,” he adds, his voice a soft rasp. “what d’you say, pretty? one more. f’me.”

you’re dreaming—you’re sure of it. that’s the only reason why you nod at his request, your body melting against his own when he starts fucking up into you again. it’s the only reason why you mindlessly babble broken syllables of his name while he coos and praises you for taking him so well. his teeth sink into your skin, right above your collarbone.

you’re certain you’re dreaming. but, aeons, the way he bites at you hurts far more than it should for a dream.

[d3arapril]

[reup] birthday girl | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x f!reader word count: 4.6k warnings/tags: alcohol consumption (they're tipsy), switch!paige, oral (r!receiving), fingering (p&r!receiving), sex toys (p!receiving), spit, language, assplay (r!receiving) ᡣ𐭩 as many of u are aware i accidentally deleted my account - luckily i have managed to recover this gem! if you're thinking hm i swear i used to follow her - YOU DID! please re-join me on this journey and please re-indulge yourselves in this dirtiness for BDB PB's birthday. reblogs are appreciated more than ever given the circumstances lol ! :D love u all x

You sway slightly on your feet, the alcohol making your head feel lighter than it should as you fumble to light the candle on the heart-shaped cake. Your socks shuffle on the cool kitchen tiles, the slight friction grounding you as you flick at the lighter.

"Need help?" Azzi peeks over your shoulder to watch you flick at the lighter. When the small flame finally ignites, you both let out a victorious "Ah!"

"Nope," you pop the p, turning to smile at your friend. "I got it!"

You'd organised a small get together with close friends for Paige's birthday at her request. Not too much, she'd insisted when you'd first asked her what she wanted to do. So, of course, you made a list of those she actually liked and invited them over.

Now, you're standing behind Azzi as she leads you out of the kitchen and shuts off the lights. You hold the cake up with both hands, lips in a tight line as you focus on holding it steady. Admittedly, you'd all had a bit more to drink than originally planned. Tiktok's were filmed, drinking games were played and shots were consumed.

The girls break out into an out of tune rendition of happy birthday as soon as you enter the room, toothy grin plastered across your face when you lock eyes with Paige. She's smiling right back at you and although the room is dark you can just make out the blush on her cheeks.

She blows out the candle and her index finger swipes through the icing decorating the edge of the cake. She sucks it into her mouth, eyes still trained on yours. "Mm," she makes a noise in her throat. "Tastes good."

It's almost like slow motion, the way her mouth closes and her tongue comes out to lick at her lips. It's all you can focus on– her. You shake it off, not letting yourself get lost in the moment in front of all of your friends. You place the cake down onto the table and just like that the party continues, more drinks are poured and the night wears on.

A few hours later, most of the girls have called it a night. Now, it's just you, Paige, Azzi, Kayla and Kk remaining. You're squished between Paige and Kayla on the couch, Paige's right leg slung over yours. You're trying your best to listen to the conversation going on around you, but the mere feeling of Paige's skin on yours makes it harder to concentrate.

"You want another?" Paige’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. She gestures to the red cup loosely clutched in your hand.

You glance down at it and shake your head. "Nah, I’m good. I think I’d actually like to remember tonight," you say with a chuckle.

Paige laughs softly, her hand giving your thigh a playful squeeze. "Smart move." She turns to Kayla, nudging her gently. "What about you? Tapping out?"

Kayla glances at her phone, her eyes widening slightly as she reads the time—1:29 AM. "Wow– I didn't realise it was that late." Kayla yawns as she stands up, ruffling at Paige's hair. "It's not your birthday anymore, Bueckers."

"It's still my day, though." Paige pouts, leaning her head back to look at Kayla. Always such a big baby.

"Yeah, yeah, birthday girl," Kayla laughs, ruffling Paige’s hair before heading to the door. She glances over at Azzi, who’s now half-asleep, sprawled across Kk’s lap. "You guys heading out too?"

Azzi and Kk exchange tired glances before they, too, gather their things. After a round of group hugs, the door finally closes, leaving you and Paige alone in the now-quiet living room. You survey the aftermath; red cups litter the floor, empty bottles are stacked haphazardly on the coffee table.

“Jeez,” you mutter, shaking your head at the mess. “This’ll be fun to clean up tomorrow.”

Paige hums in agreement, her arms suddenly wrapping around your waist from behind you. She pulls you back against her, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I had a good night,” she says softly, her breath tickling your ear. “Thank you.”

"No need to thank me," you smile. "I had fun, too. Did you have a good birthday?"

"The best," her arms squeeze you a little tighter, nose nudging at your cheek. You lean back into her, hands covering her own. "Thank you baby."

"Anything for you," you smile, tilting your neck back to look at her.

"Really?" her head tilts towards you as she presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Always."

She hums, her hands sliding down to your hips, squeezing gently as she leans in closer. "Not to be greedy," there's a pause as she gives you another squeeze, lips ghosting down your neck. "But where's my gift?"

Paige grins against your neck, the curve of her lips brushing your skin. “Maybe,” she murmurs before her teeth lightly nip at the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

"You gonna give me something good?"

Her lips are against your pulse point now, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth. A sigh escapes your lips and you reach your hands up and back, fingers tangling in her hair. Paige's hands roam your body, trailing up and down your sides before one cups at your breast.

"Paige," you moan softly, her name escaping your lips as her mouth finds yours. The kiss is slow and deep, both of you still tasting faintly of vodka and cherry, the alcohol mixing with the heat between you. Her hand cups your jaw, angling your face just right as the kiss intensifies.

She pulls away first, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. Her breathing is ragged, voice low as she pants, "Bedroom."

Your fingers interlock with hers, feet padding softly against the floor as she leads you down the hallway. Her thumb rubs soft circles into the back of your hand and it's a subtle reminder of how much she loves you.

Paige stops outside of her bedroom door and pauses. Her eyes are soft and there's a smile gracing her lips. "What?" you smile back, free hand reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Nothing, just." her hand lifts and squeezes your wrist. "I really love you, s'all."

You roll your eyes, playfully. "You're such a sap,"

"You gonna let this sap eat your pussy, orrrr..?" she smirks as she drags out the word, opening the door to her room and pulling you in. She pushes it shut behind you, tipsy fingers fumbling with the lock.

The room is surprisingly bright, the main light still on from when Paige must've last been in there. "You left the light on," you say monotonously which earns you an eye roll from Paige. She doesn't respond, just flicks her head towards the bed as an instruction for you to get over there.

"Someone's eager." you grin, walking backwards until the back of your legs hit her bed.

"Mhm," Paige hums, stepping closer to you. She pauses for a moment, as though she's figuring out her next move. "Turn over."

Your knees are weak as you flip yourself over, resting on your hands and knees. She wastes no time, making quick work of pulling your leggings and panties down your thighs. She lets out a moan at the sight of you, exposed and waiting.

"Damn," she mumbles under her breath, hand running along the curve of your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. "Now this is a birthday cake."

Your head drops between your shoulders, laughter shaking your frame. "Wow, P. That's corny."

"Shut up," she's giggling, too, but there's a tone of authority in her voice. The sound of her kneeling behind you is audible and the feeling of her presence looming over you is enough to keep you quiet.

Her hands grip at your ass again and squeeze, nails digging into the soft skin. Your fingers curl into the sheets, a gasp leaving your lips. A stray finger traces a pattern across the dimples in your lower back, lower, lower until it brushes over the puckered hole you're both yet to try. Yeah, she's pressed her thumb against it more times than she'd like to admit but she's never 'breached the surface' as she'd say.

"You gonna let me have here?" she leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to the base of your spine. "It is my birthday, after all."

You hesitate, hand letting go of the sheets to reach back for her. "What about you?"

Paige squeezes at your forearm, "I'll get mine, don't worry."

She moves your arm back down beside you, hands coming to rest on either side of your ass. She pulls your cheeks apart, breath warm against you. "Can I?"

You moan out a yes, dropping your forehead against the mattress. Paige wastes no time, head dipping down and licking a fat stripe up your pussy, tongue sliding between your folds. She's sloppy, spit mixing with the slick that now coats her chin. She's moaning into you and you wish you could see how this looked from the outside.

You're shaking in front of her, fingers twisting and tugging at the sheets. She pulls away for a second, gathers the mixture of her spit and your juices in her mouth and spits it back onto you. She rubs it in with her thumb, digit ghosting over the ring of muscle.

"Fuck, Paige," you groan, shaking hand blindly reaching back to pull her closer, push her away- you weren't even sure at this point.

The girl hums, thumb stilling. "You want me to put it in?

You nod, cheek flat against the mattress.

"Speak to me."

"Please, please." you beg.

"Please what?"

"Fuck," you groan, inhibitions leaving your body. "Do anything, please. Eat my pussy–my ass, please, please–" You're so desperate you can barely even recognise your own voice.

"Relax baby," Paige coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your ass cheek. "I got you."

You feel her pull away and you're about to protest, kick your feet out at her and cuss her out until you feel her shuffling around on the bed behind you. You use the little strength you have remaining to push your head off of the bed and you see her lying on her back, half of her body hanging off of the bed. Damp fingers squeeze at your ass, dragging you back just enough so your pussy is directly over her mouth.

She's back at it like she never left, sucking your clit into her mouth and massaging her tongue over it. Her thumb finds home against your ass again, pressing against your hole as her tongue teases over your folds. The pressure is immense, the tip of her thumb slipping past the tight ring of muscle and you choke on air. You're not sure if it's a good or bad thing that you can't breathe, everything in you constricting, heart hammering against your chest.

You press against the mattress and hold yourself up, now fully kneeling over Paige. You brush the blonde strands from her face, your girlfriend's eyes fluttering open to lock onto yours. As soon as you make eye contact you hear feel her moan into your pussy, thumb sliding an inch deeper.

Your hips grind against her at their own accord, fingers now knotted in Paige's hair as you moan out into the cool air of her room. Your stomach tenses, thighs working overtime to hold you up. The chord in your stomach grows tighter and you open your mouth to warn Paige that you're about to cum but your words get lost in the mess of moans and pants and incoherent syllables.

It washes over you like a tidal wave, orgasm rattling your entire body. Paige moans into you the entire time, tongue messily sliding over your pussy as she laps you up. Her thumb leaves your ass with a pop and she presses her head back into the mattress just enough to be able to breathe out a "You good?"

Shaking legs shuffle you down her body until you're sat on her stomach, grimacing at the stickiness between your thighs. Paige can't help the laugh that leaves her, hands rubbing up the fronts of your thighs as she takes you in.

"You look fucked."

"Well," you pinch at her side, "You fucked me good, birthday girl."

She wiggles her eyebrows at that, hands leaving your thighs to grip at your ass cheeks. She squeezes, tongue licking around her lips. Her lids flutter shut as she tastes the remnants of you against her, lashes fluttering against her cheek.

You watch her silently from above, fingers trailing across her chest. Her shirt sticks to her skin slightly, sweat beading across her body. "Want this off?"

She nods, eyes opening. "Please."

You clamber off her and watch as she pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it into a random corner of her room. Her sports bra follows and she mindlessly rubs her hands over her chest, grateful she's no longer constricted by the material.

"So," you start, pushing her back by her shoulder and ghosting your lips across her nipple. She's flat against the bed again and you're perched beside her, ass up and feet kicking out as your tongue peeks out to lick at the sensitive nub. "How do you plan on 'getting yours'?"

You recite the words she'd said to you earlier and she snickers, back arching slightly when you suck her nipple into your mouth. "I got something-" she sucks in a breath when your teeth bite into the swell of her breast, pink mark left in their wake. "Something in the drawer."

Your eyebrows perk up at that, leaving one last kiss against her tit as you climb off the bed and saunter towards her bedside drawer. You pull open the rickety drawer and there's a purple wand staring right back at you.

You turn back to look at her, watching as she shuffles up the bed, head now resting on the pillows. "How long have you had this?"

Paige shrugs, a smug look on her face. "Got it a couple days ago. A gift from me, to me."

You fish it out of the drawer and inspect it, it's fairly heavy- three heart shaped buttons on the purple rubber handle. "Have you used it?"

"Nah," she taps her fingers against her stomach, nonchalant. "Wanted to use it with you."

You let out a hum of approval, turning back to face her. She's propped herself up on her elbows, legs bent at the knee and open. Her thighs are spread wide, fabric of her navy shorts stretching across the expanse of the muscle.

You sit at the end of the bed, turning the toy on and letting it vibrate against the palm of your hand. "It's intense," you muse, not able to mask the smile growing on your features. "Did you deliberately choose this?"

Paige's blush deepens, feet kicking out to hit your thigh. "Shut up, no."

You can't help but laugh at her, crawling forward and leaning down to press a kiss just above her bellybutton. She's watching you carefully, waiting to see what you're going to do.

"This is new," you say, watching the way her breathing changes with every gentle touch. "I usually have to work to get you like this, but you're so–" you bite down on her skin, letting her feel the dull ache before sucking at the mark. "Are you becoming needier in your old age?"

"Fuck you," she spits, but there's no real venom in her words. Her abs are drawn tight and she's got her hands fisted by her sides; she's clearly desperate. "It's my birthday, be nice."

"Need I remind you," you flick the waistband of her shorts and boxers against her skin, pulling at them slightly to hint at her to lift her hips. She does as you wish and you slide them off of her, abandoning them at the end of the bed. "It's not your birthday anymore."

Paige makes a sound in the back of her throat, hips raising as she tries to get you to touch her. She's been on the edge since she saw you walking towards her with that cake in your hands, the amount of love you have for her so evident in your expression that it drove her fucking insane. She feels her entire body burning up, thighs shaking as her hands clutch at the sheets.

You settle comfortably between her legs, head dipping down to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

"What do you want me to do? I'll let you pick, my treat."

She rolls her eyes at that, breath shaky as she answers. "Use the thing."

You lean forward, lips ghosting over hip bone. You breathe out a laugh, tongue licking against the skin. "The thing? Like the movie?"

You feel Paige tug at your hair, an annoyed whine leaving her throat. "Stop fucking with me, please."

That's enough to satisfy you, dipping down lower to place a chaste kiss against her clit. She sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling, hips canting up to catch your mouth. Your tongue peeks out to lay flat against it, slowly moving your head up and down to provide just enough friction to make Paige's toes curl.

"Fuck," she breathes out, head tilted back against the pillow. "Need more."

Your right hand blindly fumbles around the bed for the wand, left hand now busy rubbing slow circles into her clit with your thumb. Her abs ripple, chest heaving from the feeling of it all. It's so much, yet nowhere near enough at the same time.

As soon as you press the on button the toy springs to life again, loud vibrations humming out into the air of the room. It almost makes your entire arm shake from how intense it is but you prevail, sitting up slightly to trail it between the valley of her breasts.

"What're you-" Paige cuts herself off, the both of you not able to contain your laughter because she sounds like some sort of fucked up robot when she speaks, the vibrations distorting her voice.

"Just," you lift the toy away from her chest to press a kiss to her lips, both of you smiling against each other. "Relax, enjoy it babe."

You trail the wand further down her body, letting it rest just above her clit. Her hips tilt up again, head lolling forward so she can watch. Your free hand presses against her stomach, keeping her flat to the bed.

"I said, relax."

"I am relaxed."

You scoff, not giving in to her attitude. You keep the wand where it is, just out of reach from where she needs it most. You move the hand from her stomach and let your fingers tickle against her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her pussy. Your fingertip trails against her folds and, as you expected, she's soaked. It wasn't too often you'd swap roles like this, let her fully relax whilst you took control of the reigns but you knew she enjoyed this. Loves letting you do whatever you want to her.

You let a single finger dip between her folds, sliding up, down and then sinking inside of her. It's not much of a stretch from how wet she is, slides in easily. You pump the singular finger in and out slowly, eyes trained on Paige's face.

She's got her eyes screwed shut, head still lolled on her shoulder. Her eyebrows are furrowed, lips in a slight pout. You hover the vibrator just above her clit and when you press it down against her, her eyes shoot open and eyebrows raise in shock.

"Holy shit," she gasps, one hand wrapping around your wrist whilst the other shoots up to grab at the pillow beside her. "That's– fucking hell."

Her mouth is wide open, tongue hanging out just the tiniest bit in a daze. The room is filled with the sounds of the toy and her moans, her hips lifting off of the bed to chase the sensation. You press the wand down harder, letting it buzz against her clit. You can feel it vibrating through your arm and the vibrations are strong, making you wonder just how powerful it is. You make a note to get her to use it on you, next time.

You move the toy against her in slow circles, slipping another finger into her pussy and curling them up. "Good?"

Paige's chest is flushed, heaving with each deep breath she takes. It's almost like she doesn't know what to do with herself, head tipping back to the pillow and then tossing to the side. "Yeah," she breathes out, voice hoarse. "Good."

Your thumb reaches up to press at one of the buttons to increase the intensity, vibrations now pulsing against her. She whines, high pitched and strained as it all becomes too much. Your fingers curl faster inside of her, the squelching from her pussy just audible over the vibrations from the wand.

Her hips tilt up faster, feet slipping against the mattress as she chases the feeling. If she could see herself she'd be embarrassed by how easily she's succumbed to the pleasure, scrambling against the bed pathetically. She can't think straight, only able to focus on the feeling of her orgasm approaching.

"It's-" she can barely get her words out, sweat making her body glisten. You watch her with a smirk on your face, satisfied. "I think-"

"What's wrong, babe?"

Paige's eyes are rolled back in her head, head tipped back and neck on show. There's a blue vein stretching across the length of her neck and you find yourself leaning over her and dragging your tongue against it. Paige jumps at the feeling, broken moan leaving her chest. The hand that was wrapped around your wrist moves to your shoulder, blunt nails biting against your skin.

You're still moving the toy in slow circles, rubbing it against her clit. Paige is moaning, groaning- gravelly noises leaving her throat as the hand on your shoulder moves to your hair. She moves her head to face you, watery eyes boring into your own.

"Gonna cum," she whispers against your lips, barely audible over the noise from the toy. "Fucking–feel it in my chest."

You bite at her bottom lip, teeth pulling at her pout. Your nose presses against hers as you watch her unravel, watch a tear spill from her eye and drip down her cheek. "Yeah, birthday girl?"

Your fingers speed up, curling so quickly you fear they might end up cramping. Your wrist begins to ache from holding the toy, too but you keep going because it's all worth seeing your girlfriend like this.

The blonde lets out a combination between a cry and a moan, thighs squeezing around you and keeping you trapped as she cums. The vibrator slips a little from how wet she's become but you're quick to put it back in place.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she's chanting out to nobody in particular, thighs tightening and feet kicking against your back. You let her do it, let it happen as she goes silent. You feel it before you hear it, her hips rolling up and thighs shaking against you as she floods your fingers, and then- "I'm fucking-fucking cumming, oh shittttt."

The words leave her through gritted teeth, fingers finding their way under your shirt to scratch against your skin. You lean back to watch her in all her glory; head craned back against the pillow, nipples hard and hair matted against her forehead.

Your fingers slip out of her first and you sit them on your tongue, licking around them and moaning from the taste. You turn the vibrator off and chuck it beside Paige who is breathing so heavily you think she might pass out, eyes closed and lips dry.

You rub a comforting hand against her thigh, a soft touch to keep her grounded. You cast a glance down to her pussy and you can see the wet patch underneath her on the bed, dark and soaking into the cotton sheets.

"Wow," is all she says, body relaxing against the bed. Her eyes open and she softly smiles as soon as she sees you, shaking hand resting atop of your own. "Happy birthday to me."

You opt to lay beside her, leg kicked over her thighs with your head resting on her shoulder. "Feeling okay?"

"Honestly," she tucks her chin in to look down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Best birthday gift ever."

"Doesn't count if you brought it for yourself, though." you counter, tilting up to look at her. You catch her rolling her eyes at you, the hand she'd settled around your waist digging in below your ribs.

"'Kay, where's my gift from you then?"

"Don't be greedy, Bueckers." you tease sliding out from beside her and walking towards where your bag was abandoned several hours ago. Paige lets out a whistle as she watches your ass as you walk away from her, rolling onto her side.

"Where you goin'?"

You ignore her, rummaging through your back to look for the jewellery box you'd so carefully wrapped last weekend. Much to relief you find it still intact and spin around, holding it behind your back as you saunter back towards Paige. You make sure to grab her clothes on the way, throwing them in her direction.

She raises an eyebrow at you, pulling just her boxers back up over her legs and an oversized t-shirt over her head. You do the same, keeping the box in your hand as you put her shorts on.

"A gift for little old me?"

You have to resist rolling your eyes at her, crouching down so you're at the same height. You hold the small box between you both and hold your gaze with Paige, watching as her eyes light up in anticipation.

"I remember looking at them a while ago," you start, thumb stroking against the patterned paper. "So I got 'em."

Paige frowns, unsure of what you're talking about. She takes the box from you, unsteady fingers pulling at the wrapping paper. She discards the paper beside her on the bed and opens up the box slowly, eyes widening when she sees what's inside.

"You didn't-"

"Don't say a word." you cut her off, knowing she was about to go on a spiel about how she didn't deserve this, how you shouldn't have spent the money, blah blah blah.

"How did you remember?" there's a hint of shock in her voice, as though she couldn't believe you'd remember something that she thought was so insignificant.

You smile at her, taking the box from her and pulling out one of the rings. They're just two simple silver bands with a small heart etched on the inside; nothing too flashy but you vividly remember Paige fawning over them in the store. "We should get matching," she'd suggested to you, nothing but a passing comment.

The ring slides onto her finger with ease and you thank the Gods above that you'd picked the right size. "Feels like we're gettin' married," she snickers, holding her hand up to admire the ring. "Lemme put it on you."

"Nuh-uh!" you whip your hand away from her, wiggling your fingers in the air. "I need to wash my hands after your little performance."

Paige laughs, shoving at your shoulder with no malice. She stands up from the bed, groaning from the ache in her legs. She wraps hand around your arm and pulls you up and into a hug.

"I love you," she mumbles against your shoulder, squeezing you tight. "Thank you, for everything."

You pull back slightly, scratching at the nape of her neck.

"I love you too," you lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Happy birthday, baby."

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

part 2

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

[giamee]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

safe house (next part)

summary: your boyfriend takes it too far again and paige picks us the pieces

content warnings: domestic violence

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” You plead over the drone of the dialling tone. You were trying to reach your friend Allie, her apartment wasn’t far from where you were but you didn’t want to show up unannounced, but you also didn’t really have a choice. It was either Allies place or a park beach at 11PM because there was no way you were going back to your own apartment.

You lived with your boyfriend who had a temper firey enough to melt ice caps and you often ended up on the receiving end of said temper and today was no different.

You had gone to your classes and studied in the library for a few hours before heading home to cook dinner. Your apartment was silent and unlit when you walked in and you said a silent prayer, thankful that you would get a moments peace.

You cooked dinner, your favourite playlist softly emitting from the speakers, curating the perfect evening vibe.

The sound of a key turning in the door made your head snap up from the stove and you quickly paused your music in an attempt to not create any unnecessary arguments. Your boyfriend had an opinion on everything you did from the way you dressed, who you hung out with and even your music preference. He made it clear that no girl of his would listen to slutty music after you had played SZA one time.

“Hi baby, I cooked for us.” You announced as he joined you the kitchen, peering over your shoulder to look at the pot of freshly cooked pasta.

He’d been at the gym, he smelt of sweat and his skin was clammy against yours as he pressed into you.

“Pasta?” He questioned in disgust as if you just offered him a plate of raw meat.

“Yeah, you love pasta.” You said gently, he did love pasta, you’d been together almost a year now and he’s said many times it’s his favourite food but somehow you knew you’d be in the wrong tonight.

“I’m not eating that.” He scoffed, purposefully knocking the handle of the pot sending the pasta you had just cooked flying to the floor. The tomato sauce still hot, splattered up your leg causing you to jump back and collide into his chest.

“You don’t know me at all.” He says shaking his head, a deep frown set on his face. “You love pasta.” He mocked your words.

You mummbled out apology after apology as you begin to clean the mess he made but it’s no use. His hands were in your hair and then around your throat and you squeeze your eyes closed knowing what was coming next.

Like always, you told yourself just take it, there’s no use fighting back. He was bigger and stronger than you, your small hands are no match to his. Once he got bored, he goes to take a shower, without a second look in your direction and that’s when you left.

By the time you reach Allies place, she still hasn’t picked up so you hope that she’s in and just not on her phone as you knock at the door.

Your face ached and throbbed as you wait for the door to be opened and you knew the metallic taste in your mouth was blood, undoubtedly from a busted lip. Allie knew what your boyfriend was like so the sight of you wouldn’t be a shock but it was because it wasn’t Allie who opened the door.

“Y/N?” Paige, Allies roommate stutters, eyes darting around your face, her shock at your appearance evident.

“Um- is- is Allie here?” You murmur feeling embarrassed that someone else is seeing you like this.

“Um, no. Her and Jana are out. Are you OK? Come in.” She rambles out, stepping aside to let you through the door.

“I can wait in Allies room.” You suggest, noticing the setup of the living room. There was a blanket on the couch and Greys Anatomy was on the television and from the way Paige was dressed, in slouchy plaid pyjama pants and a black sports bra, you assumed you just interrupted her chilled night.

“Wait.” Paige stops you as you begin to walk to your friend’s bedroom. “What happened?”

You turn to look at Paige and her brows are furrowed and eyes turned down in genuine concern. You stare at her for a while, not knowing what to say or how to say it.

“Who did this to you?” She asks gently, voice soft and caring and your walls crumble as tears spill out and you stumble to sit on the couch, suddenly very light headed.

“My boyfriend.” You choke out between sobs and you watch as Paiges face turns from soft and concerned to hard and filled with anger.

“What the fuck?” She hisses coming to sit beside you on the couch. “How long has he been doing that?”

“A while. It’s fine. It looks worse than it is.” You reassure Paige and it was true. It always looked worse when it was fresh, once you washed your face and iced it, it would look better and with the right amount of makeup, you could cover it completely.

“Fine? Y/N this is not fine!” She fumed and brought her hand up to your face causing you to flinch at the unexpected, sudden movement.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Can I touch you? I want to check you’re OK.” She apologises, her voice light and calm, an adjustment from a few seconds ago.

You nod your head, granting her permission to inspect your face. Her hands are soft and warm against your skin, they’re big but not big and scary like your boyfriends, they’re big and comforting as they trail across your face causing you to wince every now and then.

Paige uses a cloth and warm water to wipe away the dried blood on your lip, it stings but you’re used to it so you don’t react. Her movements are slow and careful as if your a piece of fine china and she’s scared to use any force incase you break.

“Are those- are those hand prints around your neck?” Paige asks and you can only nod, there’s no point denying it, the blonde girl is practically in your lap she’s so close to you.

“Fucking hell Y/N.” She breaths out and her hand comfortingly rubs up and down your arm.

“I don’t know what to do. He just gets so angry for no reason and I can’t fight back. I’m not strong enough.” You begin to sob again, only now realising the severity of the situation. You’re blooded and bruised again because of your boyfriend but you can’t see a way out.

“You have to leave him. You can’t keep going through this.”

“I can’t Paige. He’s already told me he won’t let me leave him.” You cry.

“Listen,” Paige begins, taking your face in her hands, “listen to me good. Tonight was the last night he’ll ever put his hands on you. Do you hear me? He’ll never hurt you again.” She comforts as tears spill down your cheeks and she wipes them as they fall.

“You’re safe here.” She adds before leaning in pressing a kiss to your forehead, it wasn’t sexual at all, it was completely platonic and warm and comforting and you believed her. You were safe here.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: hello guys, hope u enjoyed. let me know what u think, im still new to this 💋