#and I’m not even close to being able to pay it

[remand-me-barba]

benson x reader thigh riding!!! please. like. please. olivia being all sweet and condescending while you try to get off and beg for her attention but not until you're crying and desperate because you want to eat her <3 i mean, uh, something something

Summary: You reunite with your girlfriend, Olivia Benson, after a week of her being undercover. You've been so well-behaved that it's impossible for her to resist you - even in her office at the precinct.

Tags/Notes: Olivia Benson x Reader, fem!reader, sub!little(ish)!reader, Dom!Olivia Benson

Content: mommy kink, thigh riding, edging/orgasm denial, porn what plot, some squad antics, mild sexual harassment that Liv rescues you from bc uhhh protective mommy liv makes me wet

A/N: as usual i will not be apologizing for overuse of pet names olivia WOULD call you baby love angel kitten darling princess every other sentence and that’s canon

Word Count: 4.4k

Your phone vibrates in the middle of a lecture. Only one number gets through your do not disturb settings during class, so you snatch up your things and practically sprint out of the room. When you answer the call just outside of the lecture hall, you clutch the phone in your hand hard enough that it hurts, desperate to hear the voice on the other end. “Livvie? Are you home?”

“Hi, baby,” her tired voice comes through. Joy rocks up your spine at the knowledge she’s safe after a week undercover. She tells you, “Just got to the precinct. I have to wrap some things up here before I can go home, but I wanted to let you know I’m back as soon as I could.”

You know her well enough to know that means she has a full workday ahead. She’s always been a workaholic. That doesn’t matter, though. Just knowing you��ll be able to see her soon cuts through the gray storm cloud you’ve been stuck in while she’s been away. “Thank you; I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I know, princess,” she sighs heavily and you picture her worrying the subtle beaded bracelet you gave her the first time she went undercover after you got together. It’s the one piece of you she can take everywhere. “You have no idea how much I missed you this time.”

Your heart pangs. “It was bad?”

“Yeah. Just too much. Too close to home.” Her voice is heavy and thick like she might cry and it twists your stomach to hear her like that without being able to comfort her. “We can talk about it all in person, okay? I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.” You bite your thumbnail and ask, “What can I do for you? Let me help.”

Liv hates asking you for things; she’s your protector, your domme, your everything. But, in moments like this, she can’t help giving in. “Would you mind bringing me something to eat? The idea of eating one of Carisi’s donuts is making my stomach turn. I need protein.”

Your ears perk up. Picking out food for her is an easy way to show how much you pay attention to her. To get her praise. “Breakfast? Of course.”

“I was going to say lunch.” Her voice takes on that knowing, suspicious tone as she prods, “You’re supposed to be in class until noon.”

“I’m doing really well in this class; I can leave early.” Shifting from foot to foot, you put on your sweetest voice and plead, “I wanna see you, Livvie. I’ve been so lonely. I need you. Please?”

She can’t resist you. “You’d better get an A on your next assignment, kitten. I expect to see a perfect paper.”

Already planning what you’re going to get her, you squeal out, “I will! I promise.”

She chuckles at your adorable enthusiasm, but she knows it’s true; you’re brilliant, even if you’re the cutest person she knows. “See you soon.”

“Be there before you can miss me.”

“Too late.”

Reluctantly, the two of you end the call. You duck out of the building and tap out some notes in your phone to remind yourself to check back with the professor and a couple classmates about what you’ll miss. Soon enough, you’re picking up Olivia's favorite breakfast sandwich and a lunch to tuck in the precinct fridge for her. You get a carrying case of nice coffees for the squad since it’s been a little while since you’ve seen any of them, too. Usually at least Barba and Carisi stop by when Liv’s undercover to keep you company, but they’ve been too busy with their wedding approaching.

This was a deep undercover job, the kind Olivia tries hard to avoid now that she has you. But there was no choice this time around. Almost total radio silence, only a couple of burner messages here and there. You haven’t seen her or heard her voice in a week. It’s been excruciating. Knowing she’s in even more danger than usual, which you already struggle with every day dating a lieutenant, and knowing men have their disgusting hands on her gets to you like nothing else. Add in sleeping alone without her wrapped around you, keeping you safe, stopping your nightmares, and soothing you in every moment, and it was the worst thing in the world. It’s hard to stop yourself from sprinting into the precinct with the desire to see her. 

The only thing that really keeps your steps slow is the threat of spilling all the drinks. You even have a coffee for the beat cop behind the desk because you try to be thoughtful around everyone Liv works with. He’s new and clearly doesn’t know who you are because the first thing he does when you give him the coffee and a smile is offer up a self-satisfied smirk. “Ah, now that’s how I like my women – smiling, soft, and bringing me coffee.”

With a grimace, you offer up your name for the sign-in log and say quickly, “Just bringing some stuff for the team.”

He gets a proper look at you when you dig through your purse and hand over your ID. “Well, damn, you’re cute. You work for someone here already or can I put in a request?”

“I’m, ah, getting my master’s at Hudson, actually,” you say absently, scanning the room behind him, wishing you could see Liv’s office from here. With the way the precinct’s laid out now, she’s tucked away behind the wall at your back while the rest of the open bullpen is visible. Shifting nervously from foot to foot, you check, “Everything alright? I’d really like to-”

“Just gotta take my time here.” His eyes are all over you, not realizing that you do this routine a few times a week, and draws out, “Standard procedure.”

Rollins, Fin, and Carisi watch closely from their nearby desks, debating stepping in. Technically, they don’t have the authority to override the check-in process, but they’ve all known you for years and don’t exactly like seeing you bothered, either.

Tone flat and expression tight, you squeak out, “Well, Lieutenant Benson’s expecting me.”

“C’mon, she can wait. She’s probably in a meeting or something anyway.” He stands and, before you can think, he’s touching your wrist, ostensibly looking at your bracelet but actually rubbing his thumb over your pulse. You freeze up as he adds, “Spend a few minutes with someone who wants to talk to you.”

At that, Rollins stands and walks out of your line of sight to go knock on Liv’s office door. You don’t notice, though, your entire being focused on the way his hand is exploring over your fingers. Your heart’s racing and your lungs are tightening and you can’t speak.

“You know,” he goes on, pretending he’s got authority, “most people try a little harder to stay on my good side here. Always valuable to have a friend on the force.” His finger slips underneath your bracelet. The blush in your cheeks is hot and painful. “No need to be nervous. I’m just being friendly.”

And then – foosteps approaching. Harsh, mean, stern.

Olivia.

Suddenly, you can breathe again.

She snatches the cop’s arm back, twisting it until he winces, and hisses at him, “You’d better be prepared to lose that hand if you’re putting it on a woman without her consent.”

He rolls his eyes, shaking out his arm, and you know he’s done for. Liv doesn’t handle being disrespected particularly well. “Please, it was just a little flirting.”

“I seriously doubt that, considering this is my girlfriend you’re harassing.”

Going white as a sheet at the realization, he stammers, “I- I didn’t know she was-”

“You didn’t ask.” She cuts him off, venomous, leaning down to make blistering eye contact. “You just treated her like a piece of meat. Like a thing. Do you have any idea what department this is? Here, we protect people from-”

“No, c’mon, it wasn’t like-”

Her palm slams onto the desk and the entire building flinches. “Don’t you dare speak over me.”

You touch her lower back and murmur, “It’s okay, Livvie.”

“No,” she says firmly. It’s not even a question. “Nobody speaks to you that way. Not while I’m still breathing.” She turns back to the cop and instructs, “If you ever say anything to her again besides ‘yes, ma’am,’ they’ll be the last words you say in the NYPD. I want a written report and apology on my desk by the end of the day. Got it?”

He swallows hard and nods.

Liv’s arm snakes protectively around your waist. You know you should probably be embarrassed, but she’s so sexy when she goes all protective. With an authoritative smile, she orders, “Now go ahead and tell her you’re sorry.”

The cop looks back at you, his eyes wide with nerves, and says, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, ah, treated you like that.”

Sticking close to Liv with averted eyes, you mutter, “Thanks, I guess.”

Liv doesn’t stop touching you as she brings you into the bullpen. Without your noticing, Amanda’s whisked the coffees and food into the precinct, spreading it around the squad. Fin takes his coffee and smirks. “Well, that went exactly how I thought it would.”

“He’s lucky she didn’t bite his head off,” Rollins snickers. She cuts you an amused glance. “If that were on the street instead of at the office, I’m pretty sure you’d be covering up a murder.”

Carisi laughs as he stirs a few extra sugar packets into his drink. “Kid’s gonna piss himself if he ever sees you walk in again.”

“Good,” Liv grumbles. She turns to you, cups your face in both hands, and kisses you like she’s forgotten anyone else is in the room with you. Like they don’t exist at all. Her fingers skim along the lower hem of your shorts and suddenly she’s gripping your thigh, pushing you back slightly, knocking you off balance until you giggle and have to cling to her to stay upright, her hand splayed on the small of your back. “I like this outfit.”

Rollins laughs out loud. “Pajama shorts and a sweatshirt? Christ, being undercover did a number on you, lieutenant.”

Liv holds you close and kisses up your neck. “It definitely did.”

Fin snorts, “Okay, okay, get a room!”

She pulls back, takes your hand, pushes you into her office, and calls over her shoulder with a laugh, “Already have one.” The moment she has you alone, though, her tone goes from playful to serious as she holds your shoulders and studies your features. “Are you okay?”

You nod tentatively. “Yeah. I know you’ll always keep me safe.”

“I shouldn’t have to when you’re here.” With a furrowed brow, she vows, “I’ll make sure you never have to see him again. I promise.”

“Don’t worry so much. I’m a big girl; I can handle myself.”

She gives you a knowing look and holds your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “No, you can’t. That’s why you have me.”

At just that one little gesture, you crumple into her arms and she sighs out. She’s been waiting for this moment when she can focus on nothing but you for the first time. Your voice is shaky and soft. “You’re right. It’s been so hard without you, mommy. I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re gone.”

She kisses the side of your head over and over. “I’m so sorry. You’ve had to be brave when you’re not supposed to be the strong one.”

Trembling and clingy, you say, “I tried to be good. I followed all my routines. I didn’t even call the captain once to check on you, but I was so worried and- and-”

“Shh. Shh, baby, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m here,” she soothes, running her fingers through your hair and trying not to let her heart guide her away from her responsibilities. “Why don’t you stay here until I’m finished? I don’t want you out of my sight until I can have you in bed with me again.”

With a shy smile, you agree, “That sounds nice. I need to make sure you actually eat that breakfast, anyway. You’d forget if I left.”

Liv smiles and kisses you gently. “What did I do to deserve someone so sweet?”

“You paid for those big, beautiful tits of yours,” you tease, lifting up the mood.

She gives you a not-so-joking spank, making you shriek out a giggle, and then compliments it by grabbing your ass. “Only a week without me and you’ve grown an attitude. I’ll have to fix that.”

You raise a mischevious eyebrow. “Is that a promise?”

“You know I don’t say things I don’t mean, sweetheart,” she says in that deliciously dark voice she only uses before a spanking. She gestures to the nearby loveseat, which has a storage ottoman in front of it holding a throw blanket and pillow especially for you. “Go on, sit down. All I have on my agenda is finishing up this UC report; it shouldn’t be too long.”

Patient and well-behaved, you turn around and face the still-open blinds to her office. Carisi is giving you a wicked, knowing smirk through the glass. You give a red-faced smile before closing them for good; you should’ve done that first thing, but it’s hard to think when Liv’s there. You sit on the loveseat while she eats, opening up your bag and digging out a book to read. Once you’re wrapped up in a blanket with your legs curled under you, Liv goes back to work, comforted by your presence – really, by the fact that you’re here, where she can see you and protect you no matter what.

The small couch is by her door, so she has no choice but to look at you from the corner of her eye. Every once in a while, she glances at you, unsuccessfully perusing files as her gaze flicks over the curves of your body. You absently bite your thumbnail, a lifelong bad habit, as you flip through the pages of your book, and Liv watches your lips and teeth. Your hand slips away from your mouth and toward the hem of your shorts, absently fiddling, and you adjust in exactly the right way for her to realize you aren’t wearing any panties underneath them.

Liv clenches her jaw and tries to refocus on the screen, but her hand is thoughtless on the mouse and keyboard. She shifts in her chair. You’re being so well-behaved, quiet and obedient, doing everything right, exactly how she expects you to. And that makes it so much worse for her. She’s trained you to be lovely and submissive and perfect and hers and, fuck, she wants you because of it.

When you curl tighter in the corner like you might take a nap at any second, all cozy and warm, she suddenly can’t handle having you so close and so far away. She exhales sharply and orders, voice sounding more like a plea than a command, “Come here.”

Grinning, you snap your book shut and practically skip back across the office. She pushes her desk chair back and you plop down in her lap, the movement familiar for both of you. Right away, she holds you close, one hand splayed between your shoulder blades and the other cradling your ass. She breathes in the scent of your shampoo and feels your weight on her thighs, grounding her in her body.

Liv kisses your forehead and sighs contentedly, “That’s better. Now I can think. Mind sitting here instead for a while?”

“I’ll sit with you forever,” you breathe out slowly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and strong shoulder. You can feel the sturdy muscles of her arms around you even as she reaches back to her computer to start working again. You’ve always loved just how strong she is, so soft in all the right places but able to throw you around or hold you completely still whenever she wanted.

It’s not long before your mind wanders deeper down that particular burrow. Enveloped by her smell and her warmth, you can’t help thinking about the way her forearm tenses when she curls two fingers inside of you, how she looks down at you so affectionately when you’re between her legs, and how everything about her was just made to keep you in line, protect you, be yours.

Before you know it, you’re sliding yourself back and forth on her lap, the harsh fabric of her pants driving friction to your clit via the center seam of your shorts. You’re not even thinking about it, just following your love and desire for her. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to have her all writhing and moaning and praising and it aches.

“I know what you’re doing, kitten,” she chuckles, hand firm on your rocking hip, yanking you from your little daydream session. “You’re not being particularly subtle.”

Chasing the feeling of being close to her, you ask desperately, “Does that mean I have to stop?”

Her hand goes to your cheek, tilting your face so you have to look at her. Into her warm, glowy brown eyes that see right through you. “Did you break your rules while I was away?”

You know what she’s asking, so you shake your head. “I haven’t touched myself. I promise.”

“I’m not surprised; you’re such a good girl,” she coos. Her affirmations are butterflies in your stomach. “You can keep going, but you can’t cum until I say so.”

You whimper into her perfumey neck, “Not fair.”

“Mmm. Don’t pout, princess.” She lets herself give in for just a second, kissing along your jawline to taste your sweat, and then tells you, “Just a few more emails and I’ll reward you for being so good. Give you whatever you want.”

Your eyes sparkle with playfulness. You give your lip a coy little bite. “Here?”

“Right here, pretty thing,” she purrs without a hint of doubt. Maybe it’s ironic, maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s taboo, but you’ve both always gotten off on the whole ‘fucking in the precinct’ thing. Doors locked, blinds closed, room soundproofed, her office high enough up that the window behind her desk doesn’t really have any risk of being seen. Just right to scratch that exhibitionist itch Liv’s brought out in you. So you’re powerless to resist her when she says, “Now take your clothes off and show me what I’ve been missing.”

That’s out of the norm, even for the two of you, and the thought admittedly goes right between your legs. “What if someone needs you?”

“They won’t,” she replies immediately, surprised that you’re questioning her at all. “The detectives know better than to bother me when you’re here.”

Still hesitant, your fingers hold the hem of your hoodie. “There might be an emergency.”

With a serious look, Liv tells you, “I can’t imagine anything more important than having your perfect tits bouncing in my face for the next half hour.”

A shiver rockets up your spine at the lust and in her usually controlled voice. You respond by tugging your hoodie over your head, exposing your old gray sports bra that does nothing to flatter you. You would’ve worn something cute for her to unwrap if you’d known you’d end up in this position. But Olivia doesn’t mind in the slightest. Every new inch of skin is a nerve unwinding, relaxing her for the first time since she’d been undercover. When you’re naked except for your socks, she sighs out, “There’s my girl.”

Tentatively, you settle back in her lap, immediately hot with embarrassment at your wetness soaking into her slacks and at having your naked back facing the door. You know it’s locked and you know Liv’s got you no matter what, but your chest is still absolutely blushing. Putting on your most desperate eyes, you ask for the comfort you need, “Just kiss me a little? Please, Livvie.”

“When you’ve earned it, baby,” she chastises. “I want you to grind on me until you’re at a nine and then I’ll make you cum and kiss you and hold you – and I’ll take you home to get you off five more times before the sun goes down. Be good for me.”

With a pathetic whine, you nod and begin to ride her thigh again, knowing that the faster you find the rhythm that gets you going, the sooner you’ll have what you need most: Her. She gives you some relief, at least, by gently touching your waist, her thumb lazily going up and down, when she shifts between sections of the report. Every few minutes, she takes a moment to make you look up and lean back, arching your back and bracing on her desk so that she can watch your breasts bouncing gently from the force of you rolling your hips over and over. It’s hard to get close with so much friction and harshness on your smooth, sensitive pussy, but knowing that she’s watching helps an awful lot. In the beats where her eyes rove all over your body, pleasure roils through you. And when she murmurs filthy nothings – look at you, so desperate, baby, so needy – it drives you wild.

When you’re right on the edge of the precipice, your cunt begging to clench, you whine out, “Please, mommy. Please.”

“Please what, baby?” She spares a smirking glance in your direction. “Use your words.”

Whimpering and needy, you beg, “Let me taste you. Touch you. Kiss you. Anything.”

“I’m still working,” she chides, but you both know she’s wrapped around your finger. “How bad is it? Be honest.”

Hips working frantically now, you gasp out, “Eight. And a half.”

She tsks and insists, “You still have to do a little more, then. I said nine, kitten.”

Still, she takes pity on you. Even as she makes your thighs burn from exertion, your tender skin almost rug-burned from her slacks, she leaves her work to focus on you. Her hands go to your waist and she drops her mouth to your over-sensitive nipple, pebble-hard in the air conditioning. After a week without any stimulation, her mouth makes you groan. Lifting away only a second, she admonishes, “Quiet, princess. Tell me when.”

She switches to your other breast, her hand returning to the one she’d been kissing. Ramping up the intensity, her kissing and licking turns to sucking hard and nibbling. You writhe against her grasp as every single thought besides her fizzles out of your brain. You have to focus on breathing hard in and out to not shriek as you tell her, “Nine. Nine nine nine. Fuck, Livvie, you- You have to-”

She hushes you with a kiss that steals whatever you were going to stay next. Your hips stop rushing and you whine into her mouth. With your weight shifted back, she can see the slick, shiny dark spot you’ve left on her slacks for the first time. She chuckles, “You made such a mess, pretty girl. You poor thing. Let mommy take care of you now.”

Tears bite at your waterline as you kiss her again, planting your lips not just on hers but then on her cheeks and her jaw and her neck. “Please. Please.”

“I know. I know. I’ve got you.” Liv loops her arms underneath you. Before you know it, she’s lifting you with those muscular arms onto her desk, shoving aside her keyboard and notebook so you can find purchase. Your ass thuds down, sending a shock up the base of your spine. The next moment, she’s on her knees in front of you, spreading your legs, breathing in your musk like it’s the only oxygen in the room. Like she’s talking directly to your pussy, she says, “God, I missed you.”

And then she’s on you.

Familiar and precise, her lips surround your clit and her tongue flicks just beneath it. At the same time, her two middle fingers drive into you, curling back toward herself, firm and confident, knowing that you’re right where she wants you: At her mercy. It doesn’t take her more than a few seconds to find a delicious pace that has you writhing and aching. She knows you better than the back of her hand. If you were allowed to make noise like you wanted, you’d be absolutely wailing from the intensity of her touch.

When her free hand goes up to pinch and roll your nipple again, it’s over. Your whole body starts to tighten up and Liv doesn’t change anything she’s doing, letting you rise slowly with the tide instead of pushing you under. You cum all over her fingers and mouth, slow and deep and full, biting down on your own hand to try to stifle the whiny little whimpers that escape your throat without your control. Your vision blurs as you throw your head back. It’s a week’s worth of pleasure all at once and it’s almost painful how good it feels to let go with her permission and guidance.

“That’s my good girl,” Liv soothes as you drift back down to earth. It’s only her strong arms holding you up as your eyes flutter open once more. Your whole body is loose and warm. She kisses along the tops of your breasts and licks a stripe up your sternum. When she kisses you, the tartness of your juices coats both of your lips. She smiles against your mouth as you coo gently. “Thank you, baby. You’re perfect. So good for me.”

You can’t come up with a single thought. She kisses you as long as you want, which would be downright dangerous if you didn’t need to breathe. Sitting up further, you wind your fingers in her long dark hair and sigh contentedly, “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” she tells you seriously. She gathers up your clothes in a pile and slides the shorts up your legs. “Let’s get you home and spend the whole weekend in bed, hm? Takeout, shitty movies, as many orgasms as you can give me. Sound good?”

As you help her guide you into the rest of your outfit, you agree, “Sounds perfect.”

She kisses each of your cheeks and smiles softly. “Good. I need to spoil you for a few days. And then forever after that.”

[uchiha-gaeshi]

One of my old friends is now transmasc and I didn’t even know 😭

[cameronsbabydoll]

milk & honey — john price

pervy!john price x younger!pregnant!reader

warnings: age gap, power imbalance, lactation kink hinted, suggestive/soft smut buildup, dirty thoughts, price being a full-on menace, breeding/prey language

you show up ten minutes early.

little thing in a stretched-out dress that clings to your bump, a button-up cardigan barely hiding the way your tits are pressing against the fabric.

hair done. makeup light. cheap little folder tucked in your hands, pressed under your belly.

you knock.

and john price looks up from his desk and nearly groans out loud.

because you walk in glowing.

waddling a little.

smiling so big.

“hi! i’m here for the assistant position. sorry i’m a little out of breath, the stairs—”

“sit down, love,” he cuts in.

voice low, rough. already full of that accent and already wrecked.

you blink, cheeks warm.

“o-oh! okay.”

you sit. wince slightly. shift on the cushion with your knees pressed together, hands folding over your bump like muscle memory.

john watches.

watches the way you move slow, all careful.

watches the bounce of your chest — so full, nipples peeking through the fabric now that you're close.

you don’t even realize.

“how far along are you?” he asks.

doesn’t even open your file. doesn’t care.

“almost seven months.”

“you doin’ this on your own?”

you pause.

nod.

“yes, sir. just me and baby.”

he exhales. leans back in his chair, one hand dragging down his beard.

baby.

that fuckin’ word, from your soft little mouth.

he wants to say —

that belly should be mine. i’d fuck you again right now if i could. you’re perfect, made for it. full, warm, helpless little thing just waiting to be kept.

instead, he says:

“and you wanna work?”

you perk up.

“yes! just part-time. i don’t wanna strain myself, but i’m still able, and i wanna save some money before the baby comes.”

god.

you’re so fucking sweet.

he bets your apartment’s tiny. your cupboards half-full.

you probably eat cereal for dinner and watch baby videos at night. and now you’re trying to work — trying to be responsible — even though your ankles are already swollen and your belly’s in the way and you can barely bend over.

“i’ll do anything,” you add quickly. “i just need a shot.”

john looks at you.

hard.

long.

then he stands.

walks around the desk. comes to stand in front of you — tall, wide, shadowed in the doorway light.

you look up at him with big eyes.

“sir…?”

he crouches a little. one palm lands on the armrest beside you.

you freeze.

“you ever had a man take care of you proper?” he murmurs.

his hand brushes the curve of your belly — just barely.

“wh-what…?”

“not talkin’ about the father, sweetheart. i mean someone real. someone who’d put you in a warm bed and rub your back and pay for everything — make sure you never had to lift a finger.”

you swallow.

your breath hitches. thighs press tighter together.

“i-i just came for the job, sir…”

he smiles.

“mm. and i’m givin’ it to you. but you’re gonna be more than just an assistant, yeah?”

he leans in.

“you’re gonna be my girl. my pretty little secretary. sit at your desk and look sweet and full and happy for me.”

his hand smooths over your belly now — slow, deliberate.

“and i’ll take care of the rest.”

[littleapplle]

gege, help!!

you're afraid you'll finish highschool without knowing how to kiss. don't worry though, caleb gege always has a solution. - 1.9k w. not proofread srry</3 cw.: a single mention of deepthroating, mentions of masturbation and fingering, dry humping, caleb is called gege, caleb calls you little apple, pipsqueak, good girl and baby, implied cunnilingus at the end ig..

Caleb thinks that at some point in his childhood, the line where what he thought was fraternal love finished, and his boyish hunger for you started blending dangerously close. 

Even though he was only a year older, he was always in charge of taking care of you while grandma was busy.

Your cutesy backpack is too heavy for you to carry after school? Gege can handle it. It’s raining and the dark skies are roaring too loud? Gege will cover your ears while you bury your chubby cheeks on his neck. Some ugly kids at school made fun of the piggytails he did on your hair? Oh don’t worry, gege will have a little chat with them.

While you two were still young, him being eight years old and you seven, it came off just as his helpful, cool, big brother act but as you two grew, grandma’s eyes were always peeled open and focused on Caleb’s movements. Oh do not get me wrong, she loved him, yes, but she knew there was something rotten in eighteen years old Caleb’s mind.

You weren’t gege’s little apple anymore, your style was different, you grew a little taller, you didn’t need Caleb’s help to brush your hair anymore, nor did you need to bury your face in his beefy arms to muffle the disturbing noises of storms. You two were still close, he walked you to your classes, helped you with stem exams –he insisted on helping because it was, not so secretly, his way of showing off– , he listened to your complaints about your friends and girly gossip. 

You two were close, always have been, but he notices that during bedtime, your lips press a little longer on his cheek before you go to your room. When you hug him from behind all he can focus on is on your boobs squished between you two. You grew. Caleb doesn’t know if that triggers a bitter taste under his tongue or if it ignites an overwhelming heat on his lower stomach.

You were a pretty little thing, of course other boys in your class probably- no- definitely eyed you with malice. Oh he feels dizzy. His baby apple? Being thirsted over by other men? Nuh uh.

Things go bad bad when you’re complaining about your ‘girl problems’  sprawled in his bed with your tummy down. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t paying attention, his back faced you as he sat on his desk, focused on his physics problems. His brain shuts down once you mention something in particular.

“-So yeah, i dunno if i’ll go on the date. I don’t want my first kiss to be with a random highschool boy.” You sigh while burying your face in his pillow. Did they ever smell this good?

If his back wasn’t turned to you, you’d definitely be able to see his brain trying to process the information.

He repeats quietly. “Date?”

“Well yeah- ah Caleb! Pay attention to what i’m saying!” You groan. “The situation is tragic! I don’t wanna leave highschool without a single kiss” Then, a dramatic cry escapes your throat. He knows what you’re doing. “I dun’ wanna kiss a random boy though.”

“Kiss me then.”

He spins on his chair to finally face you, calmly staring at your body. Your pajama shorts cling to your ass stupidly tight, he is surprised grandma hasn’t nagged at you to throw it out yet. The words slip from his lips with a little too honesty, a little too quick, a little too eager and the moment you notice he isn’t joking you jump on the mattress.

“Caleb!” You cry out, “I’m serious. Like, serious, serious!”

“You wanted a solution, i gave you one, pips.” He shrugs.

He can see that for a moment, you consider it before shaking your head quickly. “It’s wrong!”, is what you claim and it only makes that rotten streak in him grow a little stronger. The thought of having this kind of little secret between you two, you in his bed whining so cutely in such… indecent outfit. Caleb feels his cock twitch in his boxers eagerly.

“It’s only wrong if you tell grandma.” He counters. “You want a kiss, i offered you one. Nothing wrong with that, pipsqueak.” You hate how his words sound too sweet, dripping from his tongue with honey. You wanted to deny it just a little longer but your cunt betrays you the second you think about your old fantasies about him.

You swore to yourself you’d never think about it again, punishing your mind for thinking about Caleb while stuffing your fingers in your virgin cunt. You promised yourself every time it was the last time you’d pinch your clit under your pink duvet while thinking about how big gege’s hands were and how he manhandles you around effortlessly when you two are roughhousing. 

Or quietly watching porn on your phone, locked in the bathroom, wondering what does gege like- what would he do to you. Was his cock bigger than the ones you’ve seen in cheap porns? Would he stuff your throat roughly even if you cried and tapped on his thigh for mercy? Or would he finger you until your legs shaked and you squirted- could you even do that? 

Last time my ass.

It all rises to the surface too quickly. Your head, once buried in his pillow- and scent-, snaps back up to look back at him. “What if i mess up though?” And to your pouty lips and meek voice, Caleb has to hold back so his eyes don’t roll to the back of his skull.

“Gege will teach you, then.”

Your brain doesn’t register what comes next, foggy with need you didn’t know was so bad. The wheels on his office chair glide quickly on the floor and in a second, he pulls you to his lap. 

He knows he should be subtle about it, grandma is just a bedroom away from grounding them forever, but it feels so right- and you don’t fight it. So, if there were any lines Caleb ever crossed, it’s okay because you did the same, no? It’s not so bad.

You get shaky when you’re embarrassed. He knows that. The way your figure trembles like a leaf on his lap makes his head spin, his only wish is that you don’t notice how hard he is under you. Trying to keep his composure, he licks his lips. 

“We can start slow, m'kay? You trust gege, don’t you baby apple?” He coos, looking at you through his lashes and blinking innocently, his lilac eyes hiding danger behind his puppy-like behavior.

At your little childish nod and flushed cheeks, Caleb groans but continues, leaning closer to your face. “Can i, baby?” The hair on your nape stands up at the feeling of his hot breath so close to your face. Your lips part in a failed attempt to say something. Embarrassed, your hands, once clawing at your thighs’ skin nervously, cover your face shyly.

He pouts. “Oh no, baby… no hiding. ‘S just gege, baby apple. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I know everything ‘bout you already, don’t i, baby? Relax.”  Caleb reassures softly, holding your wrists down with his hands so he can look at your distressed face. 

Finally, you nod along to his first request. Caleb’s vision goes white.

Letting your wrists go, his hand slithers to the back of your neck, holding your head in place while the other rests on your waist, pressing your clothed core down on his boner. He grunts before finally pressing a gentle peck to your soft lips to see your reaction.

You lean in closer, hands turning into fists and holding onto his shirt, eyes fluttering close to avoid more embarrassment. You do the same, mimicking his movements and sealing his lips with a shy kiss. 

Caleb smiles proudly against your lips, tilting his head to give a kiss to the corner of your lips and blow raspberries on your pink cheeks, igniting a girlish giggle from you. Sweet praises drip from his tongue with care and need, making your body grow hotter. “See pips? Nothing intimidating. Y’er doing so good, baby apple, can we go further?”

You peek through your fluttering lashes and there they are again, his lilac eyes look a little darker now but stare at you with the same need and want from before. “Please.’’ 

His lips meet yours again in a hungry kiss. A little surprised moan escaping your mouth is all he needs to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip before nibbling on it teasingly. His hips twitch up like a horny teen desperate for contact and all you can do is reciprocate with the same feeling, humping your clothed pussy on the tent in his sweats. 

Your still shaky hands snake from his chest to his face, clinging to it as if you were afraid that if you let go, he’s going to slip away through your fingers and vanish forever. Meanwhile, his own hand, once on your waist holding you in place, slithers under your pajama top to feel your skin.

Caleb is grateful that your eyes are closed and can’t see how his purple hues roll back at any small touch. To finally feel you, be engulfed in your smell, to hear your awkward whines of embarrassment… He feels pathetic. He knows he should stick to the cool “older” figure a little longer but his mind is just so foggy with the thought of having you even if just for a moment.

You pulling away for air makes him whine, the stronger hand in your nape pushing your face closer to his for another kiss. This time, his tongue finally meets yours, provoking a moan to escape your lips for the nth time. 

It’s messy, of course, but he doesn’t care. He can practice with you all day long if that’s what you wish. You shoot your best shot, sucking on his tongue unsurely but still trying to match his pace.

“Mgh- good girl, baby. Doing s’good f’me-” Caleb praises out of air, his lips never far from yours. 

“C-caleb!-” You stutter and pant as the hand under your top squeezes your boob, the fat fitting just right under his big palm. You squeal at the moment he pinches your nipple, the sensation new, but not bad.

“Gege, baby apple. No Caleb, m'kay? Miss you calling me that.” He tuts and gives you a last, affectionate peck before rising from the chair none of you noticed squeaking under so much weight and movement. 

Instinctively clinging to his torso as he walks around the hot room, Caleb plops you on his bed. You trust Caleb enough to not bother to open your eyes but curiosity bubbles inside you when you don’t feel his weight on the mattress beside you.

Caleb kneels down on the floor, pulling your legs just a little closer to the edge of the bed and parting them. A smile blooms in his face. He takes notes to buy you more of these stupidly tiny shorts. Your pussy, drenched enough to stain not only your frilly, pink panties but also the fabric of your pj’s, stares back at him, he swears his mouth waters at the sight.

“Baby, can gege show you something else? But promise you’ll stay quiet f’me.” 

Caleb wasn’t sure when but he was sure that he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. And that his hots for you weren’t just a boyish hunger.

uhm is this anything...

[gloomwitchwrites]

make out sesh with 141 guys pls??? 🥺🙏🏽🛐

A make out session? Oh, yes please. I will say, thank you for leaving the prompt open. I was able to completely run with it and make it my own. I really hope what I’ve cooked up is satisfying. It was fun putting this together! You’ve got some undercover work and pretending not to know each other, to deny feelings and then admitting feelings, to being sold to pay off a debt (dubcon on this one), and a brief pretend relationship.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): dubcon kissing (Ghost & Price), arguments, uncover missions, suggestive themes, swearing, denial of feelings to admitting feelings, pretend relationship, Crime AU

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Come here.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and pulls you in the opposite direction. You spin into him, his other arm going about your waist.

“What are you doing?” you ask, volume spiking slightly in surprise.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs, backing you into a dark corner of the packed bar.

The roar of the crowd is loud, but with Kyle caging you in, it all seems to dampen a little, as if the two of you are in your own world.

“Kiss me,” he says.

“What?”

“We need to blend in.” Kyle turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder., checking the room. “Kiss me,” he insists, lowering his head until the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

Kyle is leading this mission. It’s not like you to question orders, but you also aren’t sure what it is he notices in the crowd.

“Okay,” you mutter, grasping the back of his neck to pull him close.

Closing the distance, you press your lips to Kyle’s, expecting him to remain emotionless and passive. But he surprises, subverts your expectations. Kyle melts under your kiss, returning with more enthusiasm than with what you offered. You’re momentarily surprised, and in that opening, Kyle advances, turning the simple kiss into something more.

His tongue delves, and you taste him.

For a moment, you forget that you’re on a mission, and that this is Kyle, your coworker and teammate. A little moan escapes you, and Kyle responds by placing his hand on your ass, squeezing tightly, forcing you to remain still as he goes in for more.

Time stretches, and the sounds of the packed bar become distant memory. All you know is Kyle. All you understand is the feel of his hands and the way he devours you.

You’re completely lost. Spiraling. Slipping—

Kyle breaks away, and the loss is agony. His chest heaves, lips slightly puffy from your kisses. He laughs. Smirks. Rests his head against yours.

“Got lost there,” he whispers, and your heart flutters.

“Me too,” you affirm, wanting to say more.

Kyle draws back. Glancing over his shoulder again, he checks the room.

“Gone. Good. We can go.”

No, you think. Why can’t we stay here?

John Price

“Go on, doll. Sit in his lap.”

Hovering between remaining still or doing as your told, you glance at Captain Price for guidance. The man is your superior even if you don’t directly take orders from him. But in this moment, he’s not Captain Price, is he? He’s a customer sitting with a man looking to swap drugs for weapons. And you’re supposed to be a hired dancer.

When you agreed to the undercover mission, you expected to shake your ass, maybe even grind in a few laps. Ultimately, you’re there to listen and observe. Yet the target developed a liking to you, bought you so that you’d come dance for him privately.

And now he’s telling you to go sit in Price’s lap.

“Hey! You listening to me?” The target, Damon, snaps his fingers to get your attention. If you weren’t undercover, you’d punch him in his fucking face. “Go sit in his lap. I’m not paying you for fucking laughs.”

You try to give him your best smile but it comes out a grimace. Obediently, you turn, moving toward Captain Price, hips swaying languidly. You’re practically naked right now. Just platform heels, a thong, and a shiny bikini top that barely covers your nipples.

Captain Price watches you intently, and though he retains eye contact, his gaze slips a few times, moving downward before quickly snapping back up again.

With exaggerated movements, you kneel slowly, straddling his lap as you settle in his lap. Price keeps his arms outstretched over the back of the sofa, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sorry,” you whisper, because you know Damon can’t see.

Price remains silent.

Damon laughs. “Give him a kiss, doll.”

You inhale deeply, eyes closing as you do so. On the exhale, you open them, waiting for Price to give some sort of clue.

And he does.

It’s so small you won’t even notice unless you were looking for it.

Placing your hands on Price’s chest, you lean forward seductively, popping your ass out and arching your back. You press your lips to his. You expect him to remain passive and unmoving, but Price surprises you, grasping the back of your head to pull you in.

“Give the man some tongue,” Damon shouts over the music.

You want to turn around and hurl something at the idiot, but you comply, hands settling on the top of Price’s shoulders as you go in for more kisses. Price doesn’t push back or resist. If anything, he indulges each one, matching the energy and intensity. He tastes like whiskey and of the cigar he just smoked.

There is no end to it, only Price’s mouth, and the feeling of his hands as he brings them in to touch and caress. It’s not so out of place, there are two other dancers in the room, one of them is likely going down on Damon based on the wet slurping sounds you hear.

But all becomes too much—too intense—and you have to draw back to catch your breath. There is no anger in Price’s face, if anything, you find something unfamiliar.

A hunger.

Desire in those blue irises.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Every pounding step you take shepherds you away from Johnny. Beneath your skin is a buzzing as if your bones and blood vibrate.

“Slow down.”

Johnny’s voice is sharp and desperate. But you do not slow down. How can you? You can’t face him.

He yells your name and the urge to glance back is agony. Yet you remain steadfast.

“Fucking—bloody hell. Slow down.”

As you turn the corner, the exit appears, your freedom moments from reality.

You’re so close.

So—

A large hand grabs your upper arm. You’re yanked backward, dragged into a nearby conference room. Johnny shuts the door and pushes you up against the wall. He has one hand planted firmly against the wall next to your head and the other on your waist. His hips press against yours.

“I hate it when you run,” he growls.

“You didn’t have to follow.”

Johnny chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” you snap.

He presses in even more, casting you completely in shadow. “How much you want me,” he murmurs, voice an inviting croon.

There is a wanton nature in you. It craves Johnny like a bird craves to soar with the wind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gasp.

It’s a lie. You do know.

The desire to close the distance, to press your lips to his is undeniable.

“Don’t lie,” he says, creating no room for movement.

Johnny rests his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose brushing your cheekbone. His warm breath teases your skin, dancing across your flesh. There is only a fraction of space, and all you need to do is tip your face upward, to present yourself to him.

“Johnny,” you whimper, and he groans in response.

“I know you love me,” he whispers, but he’s not really saying it to you, almost like he’s trying to affirm what he already knows. “You love me.”

Don’t deny yourself.

I know you love me.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you reply softly.

Johnny smiles as he closes the distance. The first kiss sends an electrical shot through your system. The connection is instant, a driving force that has your body stirring. Hands move to Johnny’s abdomen, circling to his lower back, pressing to get him even closer.

Each one is deep and suffocating. There is hunger in each one, but it’s the moment his teeth snag your bottom lip that you surrender entirely. Opening, Johnny slides his tongue inside, and you moan for him.

That one sound ignites something in him. Johnny’s hand against the wall drops, coming to rest at the base of your throat. He presses, shoving you harder against the wall and he claims your mouth. His other hand travels to your thigh, squeezes.

You’re grasping for him too, fingers digging into clothes and skin, wanting—no—needing him closer, as if you could fuse your bodies together forever. When you push against him, Johnny retaliates with pressure on your neck. You gasp, breaking the kiss, only for Johnny to go in and gently suckle on your tongue.

“Now,” he murmurs. “Tell me again that you don’t want me.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’ve come to pay off my father’s debt.”

A pause. Then—

“He’s already paid.”

You frown. “That’s impossible.”

“Are you saying I’m lying?”

“No,” you say quickly. “Never. Just—”

“The debt is paid.”

It’s impossible. Entirely unlikely. Your father is too much of a drunken risktaker to have paid off his debt to Ghost so swiftly. There’s something else going on. A deal, maybe. But you have the money—in cash—he can’t say no to you.

“But I brought the money,” you insist.

Ghost falls back against the cushioned lounge sofa, one arm resting along the back as he observers you from behind the balaclava. All you can see are his brown eyes, and you cannot read his expression.

“What makes you think I’ll take it?” he asks slowly.

Behind you is a black curtain. This area of the club is VIP. The fact that you were let back here at all is a miracle.

“Because I know my father didn’t pay off the debt in cash. He had to have paid some other way.” You twist slightly, opening up your bag to reach for the money. “And I’m here to clear it.”

Finding what you’re after, you present it, holding out in front of you boldly. It’s the only language men like Ghost understand.

He’s not looking at the cash at all, but at you. “You’re right. Your father didn’t pay with cash.”

“Then you can take it.”

You purposefully avoid making it a question. In this, must insist. Ghost could come after not just your father, but you. If you’re lucky, he might take some possessions. Worst case, your life.

Ghost casually spreads his legs, and lightly taps is thigh. “Come here. Sit.”

You blink. “Take the money,” you insist again, an exasperation leaking into your tone.

He chuckles, low and deep and harsh like whiskey. “No. But I’ll take you.”

Your arm starts to hurt, and that little ache weakens the muscles, causing your arm to drop slightly. “I’m not on offer.”

“You were when your father came to see me.”

No. No.

“You lie,” you whisper.

“And I accepted,” he says like it’s a non-issue. “Always had a bit of a soft spot of you anyway.”

Unbelieving, you move forward, this time holding the cash out like a weapon. The two bodyguards on either side of him move forward but Ghost raises his hand. They halt immediately, hands on their weapons and gazes focused in on you.

“Take the fucking money,” you growl.

This time, you see the smirk behind the balaclava. It’s in the way the skin around his eyes wrinkles slightly. Ghost finds this amusing.

When he says nothing, you throw the cash down on the table, and turn your back on him. It’s not smart to give a man like Ghost your back, but you’re pissed. You charge forward, intending to stomp right through the curtains and out of the club. But his bodyguards move to block your path, barring the exit.

“Let me through.”

“I told you,” Ghost calls out. “Your father paid his debt.”

You whirl, trudging forwarding, walking around the table to get as close to him as you can. “I will not—”

Before the sentence is even out of your mouth, Simon is grabbing your hips, yanking you into his lap.

“There,” he coos. “Just as I told you to do.”

You’re too stunned to move. Too surprised to speak. Here you are, straddling this man’s lap, his hands boldly grasping your ass, his gaze—interested.

Your mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again.

“Let—let me go.”

Ghost shakes his head. “Too late for that. You’re mine now.”

When he says mine, his hands lightly squeeze your ass and then drag downward to do the same to your thighs.

He glances over your shoulder, his expression becoming dangerous. “Leave us,” he commands, and the bodyguards disappear.

Ghost’s brow smooths, and then his tone shifts to a familiarity that makes you shiver. “Now that you belong to me, how about a kiss?”

“I’d rather kiss a donkey,” you snap, and Ghost laughs.

“Think you’ll find kissing me more pleasant.”

You scoff, but Ghost’s hands squeeze again, his pelvis lightly grinding against you.

“Go on,” he whispers, voice enticing and welcoming. “Push up the mask. Let me taste you.”

This violent man isn’t to be trusted. And you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But your hands move up his chest, traveling to the balaclava, fingers curling under the edge. Lifting slightly, you reveal his neck. It’s covered in tattoos, and as you bring the balaclava higher, you find scars and then—his mouth.

Ghost licks his lips, and a stirring heat rises in you. He leans in, and you find yourself giving in.

“I won’t be your whore,” you murmur as you descend.

“No,” agrees Ghost. “You’ll be so much more.”

When your mouth meets his, it’s nothing more than a kiss. Simple. Clean. No teeth or tongue. Just two people closing the distance. He is not tentative though, and when he goes for another, you accept without hesitation. That seems to be the shift, the thing that changes him.

With a low growl, Ghost drags you entirely against him, and there is no subtlety in it. He claims your mouth repeatedly, stealing your breath, making you question everything you know about yourself. A man this dangerous shouldn’t cause such emotion. It shouldn’t make your pussy wet or for your stomach to flip.

But he keeps kissing, and kissing, until you’re grinding against him, meeting Ghost with equal need. And when his tongue teases your lips, you happily open for him, tasting him as much as he tastes you. Each time you try to pull away, to catch your breath and create some distance, Ghost is pulling you in again, and you allow it.

Your father’s debt is paid.

And it’s you.

[chahnniesroom]

night again

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurities, reader not eating due to stress

a/n: the long awaited 'he calls you clingy' fic! title is from the english translation of 또 다시 밤 (twilight)

read it on ao3 | masterlist

You love your job. It's challenging for sure and the expectations from upper management are often unforgiving, but you’re proud of how hard you've worked and everything that you've accomplished in the past few years at your company. 

As you've gained experience, you've slowly been given more and more responsibility. You've grown out of your junior role and though you're thrilled by the pay raise and prospect of being a team lead rather than being led by one, it's also daunting.

When you and your new team are assigned an important project with tight deadlines, you're determined to prove yourself. It's implied that you're going to have to have to dedicate a significant amount of time to finish it and while you're no stranger to long hours, it means that any plans you have of seeing your boyfriend, Chan, are out the window.

The timing is not terrible, Stray Kids has a comeback scheduled in about a week so you didn't think that you would be able to spend that much time with Chan anyway, but you usually try to surprise the boys at one of the music shows with a cake and some home cooked food.

Luckily, you've already been planning for this. Although nothing had been confirmed, you had expected that this project would be awarded to your company and you've already been trying to spend more time with Chan than usual in preparation for the busy season ahead for both of you.

Still, you can't help but agree with your best friend at work after she complains how little she's going to see her partner this month. Jinjoo doesn't know who your boyfriend is, but the two of you are close enough that you’ve shared that you have one and that work takes up a lot of his time. You've gushed to her about the sweet things that Chan has done for you and you've admitted that you think he's the one.

“You should bring him dinner sometime!” she exclaims when you mention you're not sure when the next time you'll be able to see Chan will be.

“Well, he’s really busy-” you start to say.

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m sure he would appreciate if you brought him food at work, especially if he’s anything like my partner and gets so caught up with work that they forget to eat sometimes,” she insists.

“That’s true.”

“Just trust me, Y/n. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure that it’d work. My partner loves when I do this. It’s literally the perfect way to take some time for each other before you’re both too busy. Even if he's super busy, his work can't be bad enough that he’s not allowed to eat, right?”

You agree somewhat reluctantly. You're still unsure about whether or not Chan would appreciate you barging in unannounced, but it is a cute idea and Jinjoo's confidence is enough to convince you.

The next day after work, you head to the company and order takeout for a late dinner for you and Chan, picking it up along the way. It reminds you of earlier in your relationship before you had gotten your current position and when Stray Kids were just gaining popularity. Both of you enjoyed having more casual date nights that provided more privacy as opposed to going out to fancy places and it makes you even more excited to see his reaction.

About a year after you started dating Chan, he insisted that you get a pass to get into JYP Entertainment without having to fill out a visitor's form and have someone pick you up. It has definitely come in handy more than a few times, although you try to limit the number of visits you make. Even though you're allowed to be there, it still feels intimidating to be in the building, like someone is going to recognize that you're not an employee and accuse you of being a sasaeng.

Luckily the late hour means that you make it to Chan's studio without having to interact with anybody except the security at the door, who had waved you through without a second thought. You had double checked with Felix earlier in the day to make sure that Chan didn't have any schedules or dinner plans, so you directly knock on his door without texting or calling him beforehand. 

“Y/n?” he asks, a bit baffled when he sees you. “Did we- Did I forget that we had plans tonight?”

“No,” you say, a little nervous for some reason. It's just Chan, you tell yourself, but it doesn't make you feel any better. “I didn't think that you had dinner yet and wanted to see you.”

“Oh, I see. Come in,” Chan responds slowly, still processing your sudden appearance. “I just have something that I need to finish up-”

“It's fine! You can work,” you assure him quickly. “I don't want to interrupt you too much, I just wanted to drop by since I don't have plans and wanted to make sure that you're eating well.”

Chan’s studio isn’t messy at all, but he still gets up to clear some space on a side table for you, before returning back to where he has Cubase opened up. You pass over his food and feel relieved when he immediately digs in, but your appetite seems to have vanished, you can only get yourself to pick at your meal.

Chan is short with his responses all evening and continues to work on his laptop, even while eating. It throws you off a bit, you thought that he would be able to get to a stopping point and at least make a bit of time for you, but you did tell him that he could. Even so, you're determined to make the most of the last time that you’re going to see them for a while. You know they’ve been super busy the past few days, or more like the past few weeks, but still you had thought he would be a little bit more engaged or at the very least seem happy to see you.

Finally, after half an hour of eating with minimal conversation, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind this entire time. Chan’s finished his food and you know that you won’t be able to get yourself to eat anymore, so you shuffle everything off to the side and inch closer to Chan. 

“You know that client we’ve been trying to work with for a while?” you start tentatively.

Chan hums noncommittally, continuing to type on his computer. Not quite the reaction that you're hoping for, but you forge on anyway.

“We got awarded the job! It’s a great opportunity for the company and everyone is really excited, but-”

“Y/n,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing and all, but you know that it’s not a good time for me right now. I have something I really need to work on and now that you’ve finished eating, can we please not bother with the small talk?”

“Oh,” you say, a bit caught off guard. Chan has never been the type to cut you off when you're speaking. “No, yeah, I get it. Uhm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, just-” he sighs, sounding frustrated. “Next time can you please ask me when you want to visit in advance so this doesn’t happen again? You chose the worst timing to come by. I just need some space, from all of… this,” he says, waving a hand between the two of you.

“Sorry, I know it’s a busy time, but I just wanted to see-”

At that moment, an alarm on Chan's phone goes off, interrupting you. When he turns it off and notices the time, he swears lowly, unlocking his phone and typing out a message to somebody. You’re scared to break the silence. Less than a minute later, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Chan calls. When Changbin and Jisung step into the room, they eye you curiously. You keep your head down and try to prevent your hands from shaking as you stand and start to haphazardly shove away all your belongings and the garbage from your dinner into bags. 

“Noona, it's good to see you!” Jisung says brightly, although his smile dims when you make eye contact and can only manage to weakly return the smile. “Sorry for interrupting you two.”

“Hi Hannie,” you reply quietly, not wanting to make conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

“It’s okay, Y/n was just leaving,” Chan says, his obvious annoyance making things even more awkward.

You say bye to the boys quietly and apologise as you shuffle past them to the door.

The handles of the bag from your dinner are digging into your hand painfully and your purse can’t close with the way that you’ve thrown everything into it. You only take a few steps before you have to stop for a moment to save a container from falling and decide to put down everything and reorganise it all.

When you crouch down, you take a second to mentally berate yourself. Everything you had worried about had come true. Instead of being a pleasant surprise, you had come across as a nuisance.

In your rush, you hadn't fully closed the studio door behind you and you're close enough that you can just barely pick up the conversation that happens inside.

“Sorry,” you hear Chan say faintly. “I don't know what's been going on, but Y/n has been… really clingy these days. She just showed up today without asking and I hate-”

You leave before he has the chance to say anything else. You look like a mess for sure, you had just grabbed all the empty containers without bothering to put them back into the plastic bag, your jacket is partially dragging on the ground, and your purse is hanging off your elbow, having slipped off your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear an empty drink bottle clatter to the floor behind you, but you don't look back to check.

You don't have it in you to care, you just need to leave.

Even waiting for the elevator feels humiliating, so you bypass it and stumble down the stairs. You dump the garbage into a bin on the first floor, not bothering to sort it properly, and step out onto the street, bee-lining to the nearest subway station.

The ride home passes by in a blur.

It hurts, of course it hurts. 

Honestly the reason that your relationship had worked out so far was because you weren’t the kind of person that needed a lot of attention. You understood that both of you were busy and were content to just exchange messages every couple of days because you knew how important Stray Kids was to Chan. Of course you did, they were just as important to you.

If Chan wanted space, well. You were more than capable of giving it to him.

In fact, your upcoming schedule had been the reason that you had wanted to meet up in the first place, the source of your so-called clinginess. You’d never been called that before. You were hyper-independent and tended to get lost in your own mind, easily distracted by different thoughts. It had gotten to a point that most of your exes had complained at least once about you being distant or inattentive.

With Chan, you had been determined not to be the same. It had been difficult at first, to make the effort to send messages throughout the day. You had to convince yourself not to spend too long drafting replies in your head and try not to worry that you were bothering him, especially if you knew that he had schedules at the same time that you were texting.

By the time that you make it to your apartment, your pain has faded into a mixture of resignation and numbness. You don't want to talk to Chan about how you feel, it's your clinginess that he didn't like in the first place, and you don't think you'll have time or the energy for a long, emotional conversation in the next few weeks anyway. If you keep your distance for a while, it just benefits both of you, you tell yourself. You won’t be a distraction to Chan as Stray Kids has their comeback and he won’t be one to you as you take on this new project. 

As much as you want to spend the rest of your night overthinking- something you’ve done more than you’d like to admit- you know that you have a busy day at work tomorrow. Feeling a bit like a zombie, you force yourself to shuffle through your usual nighttime routine, swallowing a melatonin pill before climbing into bed.

Normally, you would send Chan a good night message. Actually, normally you would have sent him a message the second that you arrived home. It was something that he was insistent on starting from early on in your relationship, wanting to make sure that you were safe.

Tonight, you just turn off your phone, plug it into its charger, and sleep.

—

In the morning, you allow yourself to wallow in bed for 5 minutes, before you get ready for work. You’ve never been good at eating breakfast and today’s no exception. Your stomach turns uneasily at the thought of food so you only force yourself to drink some water before you leave.

Your team at work has agreed to get to work earlier than usual just to get a headstart on everything. Though you’re more of a night owl, you’re grateful to find that deviating from your usual routine means that the subway is empty enough that you can find an empty seat, a luxury that you’ve rarely experienced.

It feels eerie to walk through the streets of Seoul when the sun has just started to rise and you’re relieved when you finally make it to your office.

Unsurprisingly, you’re one of the first to arrive. You’re grateful for the time that you have to unpack your things and make a much needed coffee before the rest of your team shows up.

“How did it go last night?” Jinjoo asks you excitedly when she comes in.

“Uhm, it was okay,” you reply noncommittally. “He was definitely surprised.”

“Oh,” Jinjoo pouts at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, it wasn’t bad,” you backtrack, hating to see her disappointed. “It was just so short, he was kind of… busy. But that’s what I expected anyway so that's fine I guess. Thanks for suggesting it to me though! I really appreciate it.”

“That’s good,” Jinjoo brightens. “At least you got to see him one last time.”

“Oh yeah for sure! I think that after seeing him yesterday, it’ll be easier to deal with how busy we’re going to be for the next few weeks,” you say truthfully. 

It’s not a lie, you justify. For the first time since you started dating, you’re not looking forward to the next time that you’re going to see Chan.

You know that your communication is about to reduce to an all time low for the next few weeks, and while you had originally been worried about how Chan would react, now you’re thinking that he’s just going to be relieved not to hear from you. You’ve never thought yourself to have been overly chatty with Chan during the day though, preferring in-person conversation over texting and knowing that he’s generally not available to read your messages anyway, much less send you a reply. It seemed that you were wrong. 

Luckily your team now has to use a shared box that you’re required to put your personal phones into during working hours and only have a little bit of time during lunch and dinner breaks, if you take them, to fish them out. It’s a policy that your company enforces when teams are working on confidential projects and you can’t blame them due to past litigation that they’ve been involved in after a former employee leaked sensitive information.

For once, you're glad for this excuse to not look at your phone, even if you feel a little bit naked to look at the side of your desk or reach into your pocket and not have your phone there. You’re relieved to bury yourself in your work and forget all about your personal life. Even though your project is just starting, you feel like you're already behind. 

When you're finished work for the day and take back your phone, you find yourself reluctant to check your notifications. It's only when you're waiting for the subway to arrive at your station that you finally force yourself to take a look.

No new messages or calls from Chan.

You’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

You get back to your apartment late, you had wanted to finish a couple of things before you left the office and it had led to you being one of the last to leave. You had also stopped by the convenience store closest to your place, not having the energy to cook anything for yourself.

You pick at your dinner half-heartedly. You're used to eating alone, Chan often had his meals at odd times due to his schedules, but tonight the silence feels more oppressive. 

It haunts you, the tail end of the overheard conversation. You have no idea how Chan was going to complete the sentence, but your mind unhelpfully fills in the blanks with worse and worse suggestions.

He hates the timing of your visit.

He hates that you visited at all.

He hates that he has such a clingy girlfriend.

He hates that you are his clingy, annoying, bothersome girlfriend.

He hates you.

In moments of clarity, you can recognize that it's not true. That's not the Chan that you know and he would never say something like that about anybody, least of all you. It's just hard when a small part of you has never really been able to believe that someone as talented and amazing as Chan would want to date someone as unremarkable as you.

You find yourself falling into a new routine, waking early, working overtime, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep. You succeed most of the time, you keep yourself occupied by thinking about work and you're so physically exhausted by your long hours that you fall asleep the second that you get into bed. Luckily, your coworkers are just as overworked as you are and it’s easy to blame your declining condition on the project. Weekends don't help you rest at all, you've committed to your manager that you can work on Saturdays and Sundays are spent completing the chores that you've neglected during the week.

You still talk to Chan sometimes, either right when you wake up or on the way home after work. The conversation is stilted though, both because of the long delays between messages when you text and the limited time that you have when you call. It's enough of a difference that Chan asks you multiple times if everything is okay. Even though you try your best to assure him that you're fine, just busy, you're sure he knows that something is off, although he doesn't question you further.

Most exciting is the day that the new Stray Kids album releases. You've already heard most of the songs for this comeback, perks of dating the member that's the most involved in the writing and production of the album, but it's different now that they're available to the public too. You make sure to organise your schedule so that you're on break when the music video drops and you send a number of messages in the group chat that you have with the group cheering them on. Usually, you try to take a day off to deliver some food to them at the music shows, but you've had to settle for arranging with one of their managers to treat them to a meal.

You can tell when they get breaks because when you check your phone after work, notifications from the members are all in the same blocks of time. It's mostly them thanking you, taking pictures of the food you sent, flowers that they've been gifted, and letters from fans. They have a short promotion period this comeback, but it's packed with different interviews, performances, and fanmeets. At one point, Felix even sends you a picture of Chan sleeping slumped over on one of the waiting room couches. As much as you're relieved to see that he's able to get some rest, the picture has your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

You're proud of Chan, of all of the boys. They've worked so hard and each comeback seems to be more and more successful. Even if you're not confident in what's going to happen with you and Chan in the future, you want to celebrate with them while you still can.

—

After almost four weeks, your project is nearing completion and you've never been more grateful to have a deadline arrive.

You only have a couple more days left until your last submittal is due and after getting off work, you want nothing more than to collapse into bed even though your stomach has been growling the whole walk from the bus to your building. You had caught a significant mistake in a document right before it was going to be sent to a client and the whole afternoon had been spent trying to fix it in time. Your team had just barely managed it, but your head has been pounding for hours and your whole body is tight with stress.

You’re not quite sure how you make it to your apartment, your exhaustion has made you clumsy. You struggle a couple times to enter in the code to unlock your door and trip over a pair of shoes that are scattered in the entryway.

You manage to catch yourself before you fall, then squint back. Yes, you haven’t had the chance to tidy your apartment in a couple weeks, but you’ve never been the type to leave your shoes on the walking path.

A light is on, further in your apartment. You know for a fact it wasn’t like that when you left this morning, it would have been obvious since you've been leaving before the sun rises. Someone else is here.

You stare at the light for a few seconds in disbelief, then slowly reach to grab something, anything that you might be able to use to defend yourself. Your shaking hands close around a full sized umbrella that you keep beside your closet. 

You’ve already made enough commotion that there’s no way the intruder didn’t hear, but you try to keep your footsteps light as you creep down the hall to where your kitchen is. It’s stupid to try and confront them, but the idea of someone in your space, potentially taking your things, is enough to inspire a sudden bout of bravery.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, launching forward to attack the second that you see someone. You recognise the figure halfway through your swing, and though it’s too late to fully stop, you manage to pull back enough that they’re able to easily catch the umbrella before it hits them.

Chan wraps his arms around you then eases the umbrella out of your hands, resting it against the wall. You sag into his embrace, adrenaline draining away, leaving you exhausted again. 

“Chan?”

You've missed this. His warmth, his comforting scent, the reassuring steadiness that he always provides. You can almost pretend that everything is fine.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“You should be,” you grumble into his shirt. “I could have seriously injured you if I didn't realise it was you!”

“I don't think that was going to be a problem.” Even though you can't see Chan, you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey!” You lightly smack his arm. “You take that back!”

“Fine, fine,” Chan acquiesces, holding up both his hands in surrender. “I'm very glad that I didn't have to experience the full power of your self defence.”

“Yeah yeah,” you huff. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than trying to give me a heart attack, that is.”

“I made you dinner,” Chan says shyly, turning pink.

“For what?” you ask suspiciously. It's easy to fall back into the banter that you typically exchange with Chan, but you can't help but be a bit wary these days.

“No reason. I uh, just haven't seen you in a while,” Chan says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck where it’s now flushed red. “We had so much preparation to do and then all our schedules… Anyway, I wanted to surprise you, so I thought I could cook for us.”

Now that he's mentioned it, you can see that he's set your tiny kitchen table and that there's a couple of pots on the stove. Chan doesn’t cook often, but he’s expressed a desire to learn before and you’ve taught him how to make a few of your favourite recipes.

You stare at him for a moment, lost for words.

It's only been a few weeks, but you feel like you've forgotten how to act around Chan. Instead of a comfortable silence, it's almost awkward, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Oh,” you say finally, touched and still a little shocked that he's actually here. “That's- that's so nice, I just- is it okay if I wash up a bit quickly first?”

“No, yeah, of course. I'm sure you had a long day,” Chan says. “Go ahead, I’ll- the food should be reheated anyway so I’ll get on that. Take your time.”

You skirt around him to go to the bathroom, taking a moment to splash yourself with water. This feels like a bizarre dream and you wonder for a moment if you’re making this all up. But when you leave to go to your bedroom, Chan’s still there, puttering around in front of your kitchenette. You change your clothes slowly, mind racing as you try to puzzle together why Chan has decided to visit all of a sudden.

You eventually settle on the most logical reason that you can think of.

He’s finally decided to break up with you.

You’ve figured that this was coming for weeks by now, but somehow it still hurts. Instead of feeling resigned, it feels like you’re shattering into little pieces. You twist your work blouse into a tiny ball as you try not to cry, even though you know the fabric is going to wrinkle terribly. You finish cleaning up in a daze, already drafting what you're going to have to message your manager later. There's no way that you're going to be in any shape to work tomorrow if you’re right.

“Y/n?” Chan calls eventually. You know you're procrastinating leaving your room, but you want to put this off for as long as possible even though you know it’s just delaying the inevitable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a heavy heart. “I’m fine. I'll just be another second.”

You can tell that Chan doesn’t quite believe you. He hovers around you when you emerge from your bedroom, knocking away your hand when you try to pull out your own chair from the table.

He's set the table, going so far as to fold little napkins under your utensils. There's even a tiny vase with your favourite flowers as a centrepiece. All this effort just hurts more.

“You look exhausted. You got home so late. Where were you?” he asks.

“I was at work,” you reply stiffly. You know that if you try and say any more, your emotions are going to spill over and you're either going to scream or cry. Maybe both.

“So late?” Chan's forehead creases with some sort of emotion. You can't quite tell if it's concern or scepticism.

“You're not the only one that has a demanding job.”

“Y/n, you know that's not what I meant-”

“Sure,” you say. “Whatever, let's just eat. Thank you for the food.”

You don't want to deal with this. You're so tired.

You have no idea why Chan’s dragging this out longer than it needs to be. Why he’s forcing you to sit through a meal with him like he’s not about to break your heart. Chan is one of the kindest people you know, he’s probably trying to make this easier for you, giving you one last nice memory, but it just feels cruel.

Chan reaches out, stopping you before you can pick up your chopsticks. He stares at the way his fingers overlap each other around your wrist.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says quietly. You look away, watching steam curl from the bowl of rice that has been set in front of you instead of returning eye contact.

“I’ve been busy.” Is all you can say in response. 

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been basically subsisting on iced americanos and various convenience store meals in part because of your work schedule, but mostly because of your lack of appetite. Every time you thought of Chan, it made your stomach turn and well, everything reminded you of him. You hadn’t realised how much it had actually affected your physical condition until now though.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” he scolds you. You can feel yourself bristle at his comment even though you know it’s true. “I haven't been around to take care of you either. I'm sorry.”

“Chan,” you protest. It has been weeks since you last saw him in person and you’ve spent more time that you’d like to admit micro analysing your relationship, but you still can’t make sense of his behaviour, especially how he keeps switching between criticism and tenderness.

“What?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” Chan says, sounding hurt and confused. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I just- I don’t understand what you want from me!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “One day you don’t want me around, we go weeks without seeing each other, then you’re at my place cooking me dinner? You said you needed space, I gave you space."

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean I don’t want you around?” Chan asks, alarmed. “When have I ever said that?”

“You made it pretty clear that you didn’t appreciate it when I went to bring you dinner that day,” you start.

“No, baby!” Chan stands up abruptly before you can say anything else. He falters when the loud scrape of his chair causes you to flinch back. He slowly walks towards you and kneels in front of you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. His eyes are wide with earnestness. “Of course I wanted to spend time with you. I always want to be with you.”

“So why did you call me clingy?” you ask in a small voice. Gone is your anger, replaced with a self-consciousness that you can’t hide. You look away as tears prickle your eyes.

Gently, Chan lets go of your hands and cups your cheeks instead, turning your face so that he can see you better. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape.

“Baby,” he says, sounding even more upset and angry than you feel. “I'm sorry. Did someone tell you I said that?”

“Nobody had to tell me, I heard you say it myself!” you burst out, pushing Chan away. You know that you’re being dramatic, that you keep oscillating between different emotions, but you don’t care. “That day, in your studio, you told Han and Changbin that I was really clingy.”

“You heard me talking to Binnie and Hannie?” Chan asks slowly.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sniffle. One of Chan's hands shifts and he carefully tucks behind a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face. The gentleness makes even more tears well up.

“It's okay, I think I know what you overheard now. It must have hurt, right?”

You can't muster up a response, choosing instead to just nod slightly.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he soothes you. “Can I explain myself?”

You pause for a moment, then slowly nod again.

“I don't mind that you're clingy, actually, I like it. I shouldn't have used that word. I like that you want to spend time with me, Y/n,” Chan says carefully. “I like that you take time to visit me, even though I know that your work is busy too. I think that it's cute and thoughtful that you think of me and try to take care of me by bringing me food. I know that you intentionally take the time out of your day to text me because you know that I like hearing from you, even though I might not see it or respond right away.”

Chan pauses for a second and you use it as an opportunity to pull away slightly. His hands tighten briefly, before he lets them fall away, giving you the space to process.

It's not that you don't like what Chan is saying, it's just hard to reconcile it with the thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past few weeks. You still don't understand what you overheard though, how it fits into all of this. When you voice your concerns to Chan, he sighs, before continuing to speak.

“I don't know what I did to have someone as caring and thoughtful as you in my life.” You want to protest, but Chan carries on before you can say anything. “It's just that- you visited me without notice and were the sweetest person in the world. I wanted to spend time with you, believe me, I did, but I can't just ignore my deadlines when the rest of the members are relying on me. It makes me feel like garbage when I can’t give you all my attention. That's the thing I hate the most. That I can't be the boyfriend that you deserve. That I can't show you how much you mean to me the way that I want to.”

It makes sense, in some sort of twisted way. You know that similarly to you, Chan often feels insecure. It had taken a while before you had been able to convince him that you really did want to be in a relationship with him even with all of the difficulties that were associated with being an idol. You hadn't realised that your visit had fed into his worries that he wasn’t enough.

“I didn't know,” you say quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't tell you how I was feeling and that's on me. I’m the one that’s sorry, you have no reason to be. I should have been clearer about what was going through my mind and it wasn't any excuse for the way that spoke to you. Even if I wasn't at my best, I can't believe that I made you feel like I didn't want you to be around.” Chan shakes his head and you can tell that he's beating himself up about it. This time, you're the one that reaches out to him, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“I am sorry that I put you into that position, though. I got caught up in the idea of how fun and romantic it might be, that I didn't give enough consideration to your schedule. Even though I wanted to surprise you, it would have been better to check with you beforehand. I don't ever want you to have to feel like you have to choose between me and work.”

“It was a really nice surprise,” Chan agrees. “I wish that I hadn't been so wrapped up that I wasn't able to enjoy spending time with you. I really hated not being able to see you these past few weeks.”

“It was really hard for me too,” you admit.

“I missed you so much. I missed your beautiful voice, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. I missed all the texts that you usually send, they make me feel like I'm not as far away, that I'm a part of your day too. You kept saying that everything was fine and- I know it's hard for you, especially during comeback periods when I'm not as responsive. I didn't want to pressure you into messaging me more often if I'm not able to do the same.”

“No, it's not that. It doesn't bother me. Work was, is still really busy for me,” you explain. “I was trying to tell you that day, but-”

“But I basically shut you down,” Chan realises. He laughs bitterly. “I’m just the worst, aren't I? No wonder you were so confused by why I was here.”

“I thought you were going to break up with me tonight,” you whisper. Chan looks devastated by your statement.

 “No- you know I wouldn't-” Chan stumbles on his words in his haste to correct you.

“I don't think that anymore,” you reassure him. “I understand everything now, it was just that we didn't communicate well and I assumed… It's okay, we're together now, this won't happen again.”

“I promise that I will make it up to you. I love you and I will prove it to you in every way possible. And I'm going to start right now. You still haven't eaten yet, please go ahead.” Chan moves back to his abandoned chair and doles out a portion of the stew from the pot that's on the table. 

“I am really hungry,” you confess. Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. 

Just like that, it feels like things are back to normal.

You know that there's still more that you and Chan have to talk about. The two of you have only scratched the surface on your insecurities, communication, and how those things led to such a significant misunderstanding.

But tonight, it's enough that you get to share a meal with the man that you love.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[adorechris]

your presence — chris sturniolo

pairing: perv!chris x bsf!reader

includes: m!masturbation, chris getting caught, chris having sexual thoughts/fantasies, lowkey sub!chris, idk what else

it was never supposed to happen.

he was never supposed to feel this way about you. his best friend.

you’re hanging out with him, nick, and matt in their living room. the four of you are sitting on the couch, watching and commenting on the show love island. your sat next to nick, chris and matt on the other couch. chris keeps glancing over at you as if he needs to tell you something. but you don’t pay any mind to it, giving him a small smile before returning your attention to the show. nick and matt are engrossed in it, acting like they’re actually in the show and yelling at the screen.

chris’s eyes trail over you despite how hard he tries not to let them. first, his eyes trail over your eyes. watching how they move subtly. then your lips, noticing how plump and perfect they look. how much better they’d look wrapped around his—

then his eyes then go down to your cleavage. he didn’t mean to be weird. he didn’t want to. he didn’t even want to be thinking of you like this. but he just couldn’t help it. the way your tank top outlines your curves even sitting down, the way your hair falls over your shoulders, the way your boobs practically spill out of your black tank top…

he swallows thickly, shifting in his seat. he forces his gaze to go back to the tv screen as he adjusts himself somewhat discreetly. he forces himself not to look at you. but it’s like your engraved in his mind right now. his breathing gets heavier and shallower. he couldn’t be more grateful for the blanket covering his sweatpants.

matt looks over at chris, noticing his quietness. usually matt is quieter than chris. but not this time. “hey, y’alright?” he questions, looking chris up and down, taking note of his flushed and almost panicked state.

chris looks over at him, nodding a little too fast. “yeah, i’m just really hot.” he breathes out, shifting the blanket.

matt raises his eyebrows, not believing him but not caring enough to pry. “alright.” he mumbles, turning his attention back to the tv and giggling at nicks comments.

you glance over at chris, noticing his state too. his eyes meet yours, and he whimpers under his breath, swallowing thickly. he doesn’t even care how he looks right now—he needs to rub one out real quick.

he stands up abruptly, adjusting his grey sweatpants as he does so. you watch him, and immediately notice the huge bulge in his sweatpants. your face flushes as you look up and see his eyes staring at you. “i—i have to use the bathroom.” chris mumbles before practically jogging out of the room, running upstairs to his bedroom. not the bathroom like he said.

“the fuck is his deal?” matt says, looking at you and nick.

“kid probably has to shit real bad.” nick jokes, making you giggle. you turn back to watch the tv, but you can’t stop thinking about what you saw. how big his bulge was, how he was breathing so heavy, how his face looked so desperate and flushed…

chris goes in the bedroom, not even bothering to fully close the door. he lays on his bed, his back resting against the headboard of his bed. he lifts his hips slightly to take off his sweatpants and his boxers in one go. his hard dick slaps against his abdomen, and he hisses slightly at the feeling and the cold air hitting him.

he lays back against the bed before he slowly wraps his hand around the base of his dick. he starts slow—he strokes himself gently, going from the base of his dick and to his tip, occasionally rubbing his thumb along his slit. he moans at the feeling of finally being able to touch himself.

he squeezes his dick slightly, adding more pressure. “o—oh fuck-“ he stammers out. his hips buck instinctively, chasing the feeling.

he can’t help but imagine your lips wrapped around his dick. how you’d take it all, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly face-fucks you. how beautiful you’d look with his length down your throat, his balls slapping your chin with every rough thrust of his hips.

he gets to the tip of his dick, and runs the pad of his thumb over his slit. he shudders, his head tilting back against the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut.

“m’so close…oh my—fuck—“ he whines, his brows pinching together. his hips buck, practically fucking his fist now.

—

“where is chris? it’s been like.. five minutes.” nick comments as he looks over at you.

“i know right.” you comment, “i’m gonna check on him, actually.” you say before standing up. nick and matt just nod in response, not thinking about it too much.

but you knew what chris was doing.

you go upstairs, checking the bathroom only to see no one in there. you walk towards his room, to which you hear muffled whimpers and moans. you walk into his room, acting like you don’t know he’s jerking off. you’re not sure where the confidence came from yourself, as you really only saw chris as your best friend.

“hey, chris, matt and nick wanted me to check up on y—“ you begin, opening the door. you stop when you see him. the sight is even more beautiful than you could’ve imagined.

his face is so fucked out, hair messy, brows pinched together, jaw slack, panting and whimpering like a puppy.

his eyes open when he hears you, his hand never stopping its motions.

“get out—fuck—“ he begins to respond, but gets interrupted by a moan. he whines, his head tilts back against the headboard. you stand there almost dumbly. he tries to cover himself, he tries to come back to reality. he really did try to stop, but the knot in his stomach is so taut.

he’s about to take his hand off of his dick. to try to act somewhat casual. but as soon as his eyes focus on you—actually focuses—he cums right then and there uncontrollably.

he cries out, spasms taking over his body as spurts of cum cover his hand and abdomen. his hips buck as he tries to cover himself poorly. “f—fuck! get out—“ he struggles to say as his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly, the feeling overwhelming but not stopping as it rushes through his body.

you step back, watching his body practically go limp as his orgasm ends. your faced is flushed, your panties soaked. “chris i’m sorry—“ you begins to apologize, but he just shakes his head.

“it’s fine. just get out and don’t tell anyone.” he pants, finally bringing a blanket over his lower half. you simply nod, walking back downstairs.

he’s so fucking embarrassed.

gif credits: @vxnitra

credits to whoever made this au idk who made it!

[lovdigital]

SLOW IT DOWN, MAKE IT BOUNCY . . .

౨ৎ roommate caleb likes company when he’s gaming

cw – cockwarming, mean dom caleb, petnames (pipsqueak, princess), rough caleb,

𝓨ou were never really one for complaining — in your opinion, anyway. It was only ever under necessary circumstances and with the way you’d found yourself straddling Caleb’s lap as he played some online first-person shooter game, cock splitting you open, you figured now was one of those times.

“Quit your whinin’, Pipsqueak,” Caleb rolled his eyes as one of his hands shuffled away from his keyboard for only a second to smack your thigh. “Distractin’ me.”

Despite Caleb’s warning, you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips as you looked at him like a sad puppy. He wasn’t paying any attention to your pouting, much too focused on the current match he was in to acknowledge your neediness.

“Jus’ lemme move!” You begged with furrowed brows, becoming frustrated the longer you had to sit still. Caleb grunted when your huffing jostled you on his lap. “Please, Caleb! Need it so bad!”

Your roommate just continued to ignore you, mean smirk creeping onto the corner of his mouth. You were so sexually frustrated you could cry, feeling so full of him but it wasn’t enough. You were in agony, so close to being pleasured but not quite being able to get that satisfaction. It was infuriating.

Thinking yourself sneaky, you picked yourself up slightly – two hands on Caleb’s shoulders with your head resting by his neck – gently bringing yourself back down only enough so his cockhead was rubbing your g-spot. Your body shuddered as you let out a little moan.

“I said fucking sit still, Princess,” Caleb scolded before pausing his game to pull you down fully, holding back a grin at the little squeal you let out when you were back fully seated on his throbbing cock.

“I was about to start feeling nice–“

“Caleb, I’m sorry, I–“

“Shut the fuck up and let me finish,” he spat as he gave you the meanest glare he could muster. “I was about to start feelin’ nice and let you give me some encouragement but now? You’re gonna sit there quietly until I finish.”

You whined in protest, about to open your mouth again when he brought one hand to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. “If you even think about saying another word I’ll go find someone else to sit quietly on this dick like a good girl, got it?”

Tears in your eyes, you nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck as you rested your head against his chest. You’d brought it upon yourself and so you decided to deal with the consequences. Was it a crime to want Caleb all to yourself?

The brunette grinned, happy with himself. He’d never want anyone else like this anyway, you had him wrapped around your finger. For now, though? He’d keep this little secret to himself.

©lovdigital. do not copy, translate, or claim my writing as your own, use for ai bots etc. 🪽

[aureatelys]

hotch being super touchy with bau!reader during a night out with the team and like cannot wait until they’re home or something ? (idk if this helps!!)

citrus

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 1.5k c.w.: fluff!! suggestive content, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, needy touchy hotch <3

a/n: thank you so much for the request! i realize now while typing this that you may have been asking for horny hotch but instead i give you needy hotch with a touch of horny. not my best work but i hope you like it <33

You first start to suspect something’s wrong when Hotch sits next to you on the jet.

Not that Hotch sitting next to you was an abnormal occurrence, however ever since you two came clean about your relationship with the rest of the team, both of you made the effort to maintain as professional as possible. Which meant not sharing hotel rooms even though you’re sure the budget manager wouldn’t complain, no favoritism, and no PDA.

The no PDA rule was particularly difficult for you because, how could you not touch him?

The team had just finished up a kidnapping case in Florida. Nearly two weeks of suffocating in the humidity and dealing with swarms of mosquitos every time you stepped outside of the precinct. The relief from being in a familiar setting and the working AC is tangible when you plop down into a window seat facing the front of the cabin.

When you notice Hotch approaching you and taking the seat next to yours, you barely hide the surprise on your face. Hotch just merely raises an eyebrow at you before he jumps into debriefing.

Afterwards, when everyone has either fallen asleep or victim to playing chess with Spencer, Hotch knocks his knee against yours.

You look up from your book, a question forming on the tip of your tongue, when you notice Hotch hunched over his files and eyebrows creased in concentration.

It must have been an accident, you think. Except he does it again.

“You okay?” you ask, placing your bookmark and setting your book aside. It’s not like you were paying attention anyway, having had read the page at least two times by now.

“Fine,” he mutters, not unkindly, before scribbling something at the bottom of a file and moving onto the next one.

The past two weeks had been difficult for everyone, and the week before wasn’t any easier. You assume that Hotch was just itching to go back to your shared apartment to check on Jack before passing out in your bed.

And then he bumps against your knee again.

You don’t say anything this time, instead picking up your book and hitting your knee back against his. You just barely catch the corners of his mouth quirking up.

-

You could’ve sworn Hotch was going to decline tagging along with you when you decided to go out to O’Keefe’s with the rest of the team as soon as you landed. You were even expecting a glare, silently telling you that everyone needs to go home to get some rest and that he is driving you two back to the apartment whether you like it or not.

You start to think Hotch is really up to something now when he shrugs and agrees to tag along with you, promising just one drink.

And then, Hotch rests his arm on the console while driving, his hand worryingly close to your thigh despite Reid and JJ sitting in the backseat. Then, he’s placing a large hand on the small of your back when you’re walking into the bar, causing a shiver to run up your spine despite the warm evening air. Then, he sidles up next to you in the booth, thighs pressing against each other and his wide shoulder brushing against yours. It’s a lot of touching, which you’re clearly fine with, but touching from Hotch, at work, several times in the span of 30 minutes?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, having to lean in to be heard over the music even with his good ear.

Hotch raises his eyebrows at you over his drink. “I told you, I’m fine.”

And it’s like you’re able to see the idea form in his head, having spent so much time with him on and off the clock that you’ve luckily gotten better at reading him.

You still nearly jump out of your seat when Aaron places his warm hand on your thigh, underneath the table where nobody else was able to see.

You’ve gotten used to how touchy Aaron can be behind closed doors. At home, he’s constantly touching you—an arm around your waist, a finger tracing the curve of your jaw, or a kiss pressed at the crown of your head.

But this? A hand on your thigh at a bar in front of your coworkers?

You can feel the heat of his palm seep through your pants, annoyingly close to where you really want him the most. Is that what this is about?

“You two lovebirds alright over there?” Emily calls from the other side of the table, looking spectacularly sober despite you witnessing her downing shot after shot.

The sudden weight of 7 different pairs of eyes on you has you even more frazzled because Aaron’s hand only squeezes the flesh of your thigh while he glances at you casually, his free hand wrapped around an old-fashioned.

“Just talking about how I need another drink,” you say, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as strained to them as it does to you. And technically it is true as you shake your glass to emphasize the ice cubes clinking around with no fruity drink accompanying it.

When you notice Garcia’s mouth open to volunteer to come with you, you scramble up out of the booth, glad that you chose the outside spot, and weave your way through the crowd to the bar. You try to ignore the way the right side of your body suddenly feels colder without Hotch’s body pressed up against yours.

You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The only thing keeping you from spinning around to maybe unethically flash your badge is the familiar weight of Hotch’s palm pressed against your hip and the citrusy smell of whiskey on his breath against your ear.

A giggle bubbles out of you, instinctively leaning back against his chest. You’re secretly glad that he left his suit jacket in the car, leaving you to ogle the way the crisp white dress shirt stretches over his shoulders. “Seriously, what is with you today?”

His lips ghost over your ear, the low tone of his voice making your knees weak. “I’m not allowed to touch my girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing that.

You lean even harder into him, one of your hands coming down to grab at his toned forearm as you reach for your finished drink. “Of course you can. I just can’t remember the last time you’ve been this touchy in front of everyone, or ever really.”

“I don’t hear any complaints.”

“I might start if you don’t kiss me.” And it’s mostly to just poke fun at him because Hotch hasn’t even held hands with you in front of the team, much less kiss you in a crowded bar with them undoubtedly watching and whispering amongst themselves.

You’re expecting Hotch to huff a laugh against your ear, letting go and stepping away from you. Maybe even him holding your hand while he leads you through the dance floor and back to your booth to humor you.

You don’t expect Hotch’s free hand to come up and cradle your chin, tilting your face towards his almost uncomfortably to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, chaste even, but the fact that he’s kissing you in front of your colleagues and strangers, in a crowded bar with the loud music nearly thrumming through your veins, makes you feel hot all over.

His arm tightens around you, spinning you around until you’re facing him, and he swallows the gasp you unintentionally let out as he deepens the kiss, your mouth instinctively parting. You’ve been dating for months but kissing him still feels like that very first time in his office, the hard edge of his desk digging into your hip and the glow of the sunset highlighting the clear affection in his eyes.

When you pull back, you notice a pink tinge high on his cheeks and the way his tongue peeks out to lick his lips, as if chasing the taste of your fruity cocktail. “What was that for?”

“Just letting you know that I can’t wait to take you home,” he says, pulling you until the entire line of your body is pressed against his. Your hand unconsciously comes to rest on his chest and you’re not sure if you can feel the bass line for the song playing or the thudding of his heart.

His hands start trailing down to your ass and you seriously wonder how touchier he can get.

But, like you realized earlier, it’s been weeks since you’ve had alone time with Hotch. So, you untangle yourself from him despite his protests and slip your hand in his pocket to retrieve the car keys. You grin when it’s Hotch’s turn to jump.

“I’ll meet you at the car?”

“I already said bye to them for us, let’s go.”

And then he’s pulling you towards the exit with his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist. You barely have the chance to peer over the moving crowd to see the rest of your team waving at you, wearing shit-eating grins.

[withering-daylight]

INNOCENT TEASING | HICCUP HADDOCK x FEM!READER

Summery: one thing about dating the Chief of Berk was that he was always busy, and no matter how much you two wanted to have your intimate moments, they always got interrupted by people who needed Hiccup’s help on something. So, during a meeting, you decide to tease Hiccup under the table.

Timeline: 2-3 movie

Warnings: smut, explicit content, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering

Word count: 2k

I haven’t written any smut in a while so I’m hoping this is up to everyone’s standards 🙏 if there are any typos I’ve missed I’m sorry for that as well.

🖇️(MAIN) MASTERLIST | 🖇️HTTYD MASTERLIST | 🖇️HICCUP HADDOCK III MASTERLIST

You adored your boyfriend, Hiccup Haddock III, the Chief of Berk. Loved him to no bounds even! But… when you’re dating a chief, they are going to be busy—very busy.

Yet, Hiccup always found a way to turn you on. Whether it was how he listened to others during meetings, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, thinking about how to solve whatever problem was brought to him. Or, if it was something as simple as putting an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him, leaning close to your neck and pressing a kiss or two on it.

The same went vice versa when it came to you. You had a good figure, and anything you did—like throwing a spear at a training dummy—just made him want to throw you over his shoulder and take you straight to bed to devour you completely.

Those intimate moments don’t happen often now, not when the people of Berk constantly need his help. Even if it’s the middle of the night and Hiccup has you bent over a desk, his throbbing cock thrusting in and out of your soaking cunt with desire and (rather desperate) need, somehow a random Viking will be knocking on the front door of the chief’s hut, needing Hiccup’s help for something stupid!

Okay, maybe it wasn’t all stupid—but usually it was for something stupid. Of course, Hiccup can’t just ignore a citizen of his tribe, so he reluctantly pulled away from you, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll be back, love.” He’d whisper to you, using his thumbs to wipe tears of pleasure from your cheeks. He’d fix himself up, put on some clothes, and go to the door to talk to the citizen. All the while making sure he looked like he just woke up, even when you and he knew that couldn’t be even slightly near the truth!

Then, by the time Hiccup would come back inside, you’d be asleep under the warm fur blankets that adorned the bed you two shared. Certainly too tired to clean yourself up, you were simply wrapped in the familiar comfort of peace inside your home. He would smile, joining you under the blankets and holding you close.

Those nightly interruptions from Vikings didn’t happen just one time. It was a regular occurrence, happening almost every night. You couldn’t even kiss Hiccup without someone in distress needing him.

Hiccup was the chief of Berk, so it was expected he’d be busy. All you wanted was just to be able to have your alone time with him, and he wanted the same.

One thing was for certain: you never stopped teasing him. Especially during meetings.

Like this current meeting in the Great Hall about trading and imports. You were sitting next to Hiccup with your head propped up on your left hand. You weren’t listening to what was being said, instead indirectly staring at Hiccup the entire time. He didn’t notice, heavily involved in the conversation at hand. With that same concentrated look on his face that always made you want him more than you already did.

You began to bite the inside of your lip, thinking of all the things you wanted to indulge in with him, that is, if it weren’t for the constant meetings. Your gaze shifted to the other people sitting around the large table, mainly high-up merchants from other tribes seeking a trade compromise. Perhaps wanting to sell their imports for higher. Seeing as they weren’t paying attention to you, you took this as your chance.

Slowly, you moved your right hand under the table, placing it on the inside of Hiccup’s left thigh. You squeezed his thigh with your hand, not hard, but definitely not gently. You were still looking at him, trying to see if his expression would change. All you got, though, was him glancing at you with a confused raise of an eyebrow.

You smiled innocently, but even with that innocent smile you portrayed, you both knew that your intentions were far from innocent. As your hand was inching closer to his crotch.

You really had no shame, but where was the shame if no one was paying attention anyway? All the merchants were focused on trying to convince Hiccup to let them import the goods the merchants had to offer; anything outside their purpose didn’t matter, nor did they seemingly care enough to notice what was happening under the wooden table.

Hiccup felt your hand drift closer up, a faint pink hue of a flush welcoming itself onto his cheeks. He gave you a warning look, but all you did was move your hand to the waistband of his pants, all the while that same innocent smile was gracing your lips. Though, that smile became mocking as the seconds continued.

Just before you could slide your hand under Hiccup’s waistband, he grabbed your hand and moved it back on his thigh. He looked at the merchants and cleared his throat, effectively putting a stop to their conversation.

“Look, we’re running out of time, and I have some more matters to attend to. We’ll continue this discussion tomorrow.” He said firmly, standing up and guiding you to stand up as well. Before the merchants could attempt to get words out, Hiccup had already begun leading you out of the Great Hall and back to the hut you two resided in.

Your teasing definitely worked, judging by the bulge in his pants.

The moment he shut the door to you guys’ hut, he locked the door and turned around fully to face you.

“You could’ve waited till after the meeting to tease me.” Hiccup said with a glare, though the glare seemed more on the playful side.

“Couldn’t help it.” You replied simply with a shrug. Then, taking long strides towards Hiccup, stopping in front of him. “How would I know I’d even have time to even talk to you after the meeting? I just happened to take my chances, and look where they got me. Clever thinking on my part.” You finished with a laugh, clearly amused about the whole situation.

Hiccup didn’t even reply, instead sneaking an arm around your waist and pulling you close so your bodies were pressed against each other. His right hand crept up and found its place on your left cheek. Without a moment to waste, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

His lips against yours were heavenly. While they were slightly chapped, they were warm and utterly perfect. You could feel the soft tickle of his breath beneath your nose, how his tongue slid against your bottom lip in a request for more. You agreed and let your own lips part slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

The arm that was around your waist slid lower to your ass, grazing the curve of your butt before squeezing just enough for a gasp to unfurl from you, a soft moan following quickly after.

You could feel your cheeks heat up as this continued for a few more seconds before he pulled away with only a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. Your chest was heaving, and you swore you could hear both of your heartbeats combined.

“Bed?” Hiccup asked, staring down at you with a knowing grin tugging on his lips. His eyes held so much love for you. Not the type that could be described in love ballads, but the type of love that was real—genuine.

“Bed.” You responded with a grin of your own. You felt truly alive, just able to be with him and have a proper moment after who knows how long.

Hiccup nodded. “Now come on, I need to take those clothes off you.” He insisted, squeezing your ass once more. You jumped a bit, swatting his hand away.

“I’m going, I’m going. See?” You said, gesturing to how you were now walking at a brisk pace to reach the bedroom.

“I see.” He answered, walking next to you and shutting the bedroom door behind him. You sat on the edge of the bed, taking off your shoes and socks before lying down against the comfortable mattress. Hiccup put his hands on either side of your shoulders, leaning in once more for another kiss.

Except during this kiss, he’s slowly undressing you, throwing your clothes and having them land onto the floor, exposing your bare skin to the cool air. His lips detach from your lips, now going to your neck and nipping the skin right under your jaw, each nip being soothed with a few flicks of his tongue. You open your mouth to let short moans slip out, your fingers in the meantime fiddling with his clothing and taking them off his body, discarding them quickly to the floor next to your own clothes.

With your hands now resting on Hiccup’s shoulders, you felt his kisses go lower and make noticeable hickeys on your collarbone and shoulders, but at least your clothing will definitely hide those afterwards.

Your sweet moans were captivating and just so beautiful to him, enticing him to continue with his actions and go further.

“Can I finger you, dear?” Hiccup asked while his voice was muffled against your skin, as his lips were right against your collarbone. He was peering up at your flushed face through his lashes, waiting patiently for your answer. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, not when he was finally able to give you the pleasure you deserved.

“Please…” You whispered, blinking slowly and moving one of your hands off his shoulder and up to his thick, mahogany-colored hair. Your fingers began to card through his hair, your eyes now staying open as you admired every freckle, eyelash, hair, and scar on his face.

“Okay, tell me if it becomes too much.” He whispered reassuringly, letting his left hand map every curve of your body while he lowered it to your clit and gently inserted a finger into your vagina. He slowly pumped in and out, letting your heat get used to the feeling before, after a few minutes, adding a second finger. Hiccup curled both fingers inside your walls, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

You gasped and threw your head back, moaning increasingly louder as he continued to stimulate that same spot for a few more seconds before uncurling his fingers and pulling them out.

“Hiccup…!” You whined with a disappointed moan, panting heavily while moving your head back to look at him. Hiccup laughed softly, raising his head to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t whine; I’ll make sure your needs are taken care of.” He reassured, lining up his hard cock to your stretched opening, penetrating you fully while your body adjusted to accommodate him.

His hands find their way to your hips and hold you in place. He moves inside you, slow and steady, before, after a few minutes, starting to speed up his pace and hitting your core with each thrust.

Your hands clutch his shoulders tighter, nails digging into the skin, while each thrust equally makes you both get closer to the edge. Hiccup’s head lowered to your ear, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear. A shiver went down your spine, letting a soft whimper leave your lips.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are? How perfect you are?” He asked lovingly, his movements getting stronger and quicker. You nodded, opening your eyes slowly.

“A couple of times.” You finally manage to say, shaking as you reach orgasm, letting the feeling wash over you entirely. Hiccup reached his own orgasm a few seconds later, collapsing beside you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you before resting his head on your shoulder. You were calming your breathing, leaning your head against Hiccup’s, and closing your eyes.

“Can we do that more often?” You asked, hugging him closer and grabbing a blanket to put over you both. Hiccup laughs, kissing your shoulder.

“We can try to.” He said with a nod, grabbing another blanket so both you and he can be warm and comfortable. He closed his own eyes, holding you securely against him.

© withering-daylight — DONT CLAIM, TRANSLATE, MODIFY, REPOST, OR CREDIT YOURSELF FOR MY WORK ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

[kajibunny]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ we're just friends! (or are we?) w/ the wind breaker boys ✧⋆⭒˚｡

✿ featuring: hajime umemiya, jo togame, haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji ✿ fluff, mutual pining, hidden feelings (aaaa), suggestive for suo, a lil angst (with comfort) for kaji ✿ a/n: i guess by now everyone can tell that i’m very into the friends to lovers trope ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა~♡ it’s def my fav!!! and these wb bois are all perfect friend material, and ofc boyfriend material too! enjoy, cuties! ✿ wc: 2.3k

— you have a closely intimate friendship to the point that everyone around you thinks you two are dating, though you know you're not lovers (yet), but are definitely more than just friends.

ʚɞ umemiya 

— sharing hello and goodbye kisses with each other.

ꕤ you and umemiya are the definition of 'affectionate', as your love languages both consist of physical touch. but maybe with each other, a little bit too much for just friends.

ꕤ the word "boundaries" did not exist to the both of you once you were within arm's reach of each other. you and umemiya give each other hello and goodbye hugs, sometimes cheek and forehead kisses, as a greeting, right? to be friendly. though he doesn't seem to do that as often to other people, or at all, even. just to you. only to you. 

ꕤ he also loves cuddling up to you whenever he takes a nap on the rooftop, inviting you to join him in picking out some veggies that you two could make a meal together with.

ꕤ while you two were cooking together, you definitely gave off a 'married couple' vibe with the way you held the ladle up for umemiya to taste, the way he had pressed his palm to your back whenever he needed to pass through, the way he fed you with his own spoon and giggling while complimenting how delicious your cooking was, the way he wrapped his arms around you and hummed while he helped you wash the dishes. anyone who saw would have immediately bid their congratulations and would think you two are newlyweds.

ꕤ hiragi took one look at the both of you appearing all lovey-dovey, and the confusion of whether you two were dating or not made his stomach scrunch up in pain. 

ꕤ umemiya calls you such adorable names when referring to you in conversation, too. his tiny bean, his ray of sunshine, his cherry blossom, it was always "his", as if you belonged to him. he was openly affectionate with you and was not afraid to show it.

ꕤ many guys also took a liking to you, but never attempted to even make a move or confess, because they were already under the assumption that you were umemiya's, seeing you two playing with each other's fingers and comparing hand sizes like you were made for each other. but how could that be, you and umemiya were just friends, weren't you?

ʚɞ suo 

— you get a special seat (on his lap).

ꕤ suo just can't seem to keep his eyes and his hands off of you. you always have to be within his vicinity, or he's not sure how he'll be able to stand it. 

ꕤ he sees you at the corner of his eye, after you have made your way back from the restroom. you and the other bofurin first years were at an izakaya, and the moment you returned, all of their eyes were glued to you and suo, as if they already knew something was going to ensue. you two have been friends for a long time, but the way you acted towards each other felt like you two have been lovers for a long time.

ꕤ suo was always up in your space, whether its pulling random pranks on you, inviting you to go out then paying for everything even though you tried to stop him (nothing can stop suo), visiting your home and leaving an endless supply of tea enough to last you a whole year - his excuse being it's there for whenever he comes over, and multiple instances which all prove that suo was no doubt a very clingy friend. not that you minded, anyway. you were used to suo and his antics.

ꕤ he had his ways of persuading you too (he is the master of negotiation, after all), and you just couldn't resist him, as you loved being around suo just as much. 

ꕤ this time, he took advantage of your short absence and made himself comfortable in your chair, and wouldn't even move an inch. "hayato, that's my seat!" you exclaimed. "hm?" suo tilts his head. "you can just sit on my lap, then." he smiles, with that damn mischievous smile you know all too well. you tried to get him to move by gently pushing him back and forth but suo seemed to not have a care in the world. 

ꕤ you can't tell whether suo is serious or joking sometimes, but nirei and sakura seems to have their doubts that you two are "just friends" as you both claim.  "are you sure the two of you aren't dating?" nirei asks you. sakura blushes and lets you know his thoughts, too. "y-yeah...! you two are unusually close!" you always reply to them with an astounding "no!" but suo just laughs and does not affirm nor deny any of their claims. 

ꕤ suo pulls you in close, making you sit on his lap regardless of your little outburst, and you weren't sure if it was hot in the izakaya, or if it's just you, but you certainly felt warmth overcome your body while it was pressed flush against his, his arms wrapped around your waist nonchalantly. "hayato!" you protested, trying to squirm your way out of his grasp, and pushing away all intrusive thoughts about his and your bottom halves being so close together, only separated by thin pieces of clothing.

ꕤ nirei, the most observant of the bunch (next to suo), points out that you even call suo by his first name, and that's another one of the reasons why you two seem like you're dating. 

ꕤ with suo, everything seems to be a mystery. but in suo's perspective, it's all clear. he loves you, whether it's as a friend or as a lover, that's for him to know and for you to find out. 

ʚɞ togame 

— leaves everyone on read except you.

ꕤ togame just doesn't understand why people need to type out what they want to say, aren't calls more personalized? he didn't understand at all, until he met you.

ꕤ you were, to put it directly, a chatterbox in all forms. you loved to talk, regardless if it's chats, calls, or in person, you just yapped your heart out to him everytime, and he lives for it. he wouldn't miss a second of you opening your mouth and giving him a taste of your innermost thoughts. he absolutely adored talking to you, because it was you, and you were special to him.

ꕤ the shishitoren guys thought it was so funny and adorable whenever togame picks up his phone so quickly because he thought it was you calling, then scowls when he realizes it isn't, and immediately silences it and shoves it back in his pocket. this caused him to set a different ringtone just for you, so he could pick up on the very first ring.

ꕤ you were also the first reply he ever sent via sms, a simple "ok" to your long message talking about how you thought it was amazing that he won the town's annual eating contest for many consecutive years in a row and that you were totally ready to challenge him next year by stuffing your face with okonomiyaki and invited togame to join you and have some with you so you could keep an eye on the competition. he found your personality totally amusing, his face immediately lighting up with a gentle smile whenever you sent him messages.

ꕤ anyone who sees how happy he is while he rereads your texts over and over would interpret that as togame being totally, irrevocably, head over heels in love with you.

ꕤ he doesn't actually reply to anyone at all ever, but he wanted to share all his firsts with you, he just couldn't help it. you were captivating, witty in your words, and very very charismatic, bombarding him with the cutest and funniest messages everyday. of course, he doesn't mind at all and is always looking forward to them.

ꕤ you two stay on calls for longer than eight hours at a time talking about how each other's day went, and yet you wonder why people always think you two are dating. normal friends don't stay up until the break of dawn chattering for hours on end, expressing all the things they like about each other, do they? at least togame knows he wouldn't do it with anyone that wasn't you, as he valued his precious sleep time dearly, but as time went on, you became more precious and more dear to him than his sleep time ever could.

ʚɞ kaji 

— play fighting like an old married couple.

ꕤ kaji is the type to never go down without a fight. needless to say, that also applies to you. but your fights with him were different, more banter adjacent, more affectionate and playful. only lasting for a few minutes.

ꕤ kaji had a huge soft spot for you, as even though you did irritate the heck out of him sometimes, somehow he still could not stay angry or annoyed at you for more than one second. he just couldn't resist the way you crossed your arms and huffed with your cute little frown. he thought you were the most adorable angry little thing he's ever seen and wanted to pinch your cheeks out of cuteness aggression and frustration, but he would never say it to your face.

ꕤ one time, you two had a heated argument because he said he could hear you just fine but wouldn't bother to take off his headphones. you argued that it was impolite and that you won't talk to him at all anymore if he does that again, and you two were at each other's throats, giving one another a piece of your mind, until kaji mutters a 'sorry', and you began to sob uncontrollably and let him hold you in his arms while he stroked your hair to comfort you because you two couldn't stand the intensity and tension of being angry at each other for long.

ꕤ you had your less serious fights too, like when you made him a bento box for lunch and you two had a picnic together with his vice captains. you fed him the food with your chopsticks, kaji teasing you by saying "it's bland." and you reasoning out that kaji was 'as salty as his tastebuds'. kaji then asked you if you wanted to have 'a taste of his fists', which ended up with kusumi and enomoto snickering in the background wishing that the both of you would just date each other already.

ꕤ whenever you two argued, your faces were so close to one another's that you were just a few centimeters shy from kissing, the tip of your noses touching. kaji had to hold himself back, a lot. like an insane amount. friends didn't want to kiss and make out with their friends, right? but kaji did. and you did too.

ꕤ his way of apologizing is by suddenly leaving a lollipop with you. he puts them in your bag, or places them in your pocket while you weren't looking. it was his little peace offering, one that you treasured and collected, accumulating dozens of them by your bedside table. kaji would gladly give up his last lollipop for you, and no one could argue otherwise.

ʚɞ sakura 

— blushing wildly whenever you two are around each other.

ꕤ you and sakura always looked like you two were having a blushing competition. the littlest touches and the most minimal contact had both of your cheeks heating up in response.

ꕤ it was like sakura's blushing was contagious. ever since you two became good friends (if you could call it that, though it seemed to be more than that at times), being around him triggered a whole bunch of embarrassing and hilarious but sweet situations.

ꕤ you once dragged sakura off to his very first cherry blossom viewing in the park, and needless to say, with both of you being a chaotic (but cute) duo, it kind of felt like you were on a wild rollercoaster ride with him. 

ꕤ you took a stolen photo of sakura while he was mesmerized by the falling pink petals. you thought he looked adorable, but sakura thought otherwise. he was a blushing mess and told you to delete them, but you said they were cute and that you were going to make it your wallpaper. 

ꕤ sakura chased after you, and tripped over a stray cherry blossom branch, leaving you two in quite a suggestive position, sakura on top of you, pinning your wrist down with his hand. your cheeks were as pink as the cherry blossoms, and tried as you might, you couldn't keep your eyes off his lips. friends don't observe their friends with wanting eyes, do they? 

ꕤ suo and nirei instantly noticed how huge of a klutz you were around sakura. they also noticed how curious sakura was about you, always (not so subtly) asking nirei how much he knew about you, or your likes and dislikes, then asked him not to tell you that he asked about you. but suo told you instead, because they were your biggest supporters and cheerleaders (and biggest shippers, of course) after all. 

ꕤ on sakura's birthday, they made you hold the cake and surprise him, which was a huge mistake, because before it could even reach him, you slipped and fell over him. luckily, sakura had good reflexes and was able to catch you before you completely toppled over. some of the smushed cake ended up on his and your face, which you tried to wipe off as you apologized, but sakura dipped his finger onto the icing that got on your cheek and licked his finger. "t-the cake's not bad, i guess..." he looked away from your smiling face as you greeted him happy birthday in a sing-song tune.

ꕤ suo, being a menace, greeted sakura happy birthday as well as gave him a 'best wishes to the happy couple' greeting card, that sakura threw back at him like it had a virus on it. 

ꕤ sakura definitely had a memorable birthday that year, but now that he thought about it, all of his memories that were memorable to him had one thing in common: you were in all of them. you, the greatest gift he could ever ask for on any and every occasion. 

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[explicit-tae]

Family Matters

The only way Yoongi, your brother-in-law, would agree to be your sperm donor is if he could be the one to fuck said sperm into you.

Word Count: 8.686

Warning: affair/cheating, kissing, light alcohol intake, dirty talking, impregnation kink, oral sex (f/m) nipple sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, doggystyle, orgasms,

Valentine's Day Masterlist - Part Two

 “Y/N…?”  

The last person he was expecting to see at his door was you, his brother’s wife. The same brother he is currently estranged from thanks to his parents, who had pinned them against one another the entirety of their lives. 

Yo-han, Yoongi’s older brother, wasn’t the prodigal son in their parents' eyes. Yoongi was. Yo-han did exactly what was expected of him. He had high grades in school while Yoongi didn’t, though it didn’t mean he didn’t pass. Yo-han went above and beyond with his studies while Yoongi did enough to pass. His B’s didn’t compare to his brothers A’s.

Yo-han went to college and was on the dean���s list. He worked his way up from the bottom just as his parents desired. He had a high paying job right outside of college and was able to give back to the parents that gave everything they could to their two sons.

Yoongi, however, went down an unforgivable path. How dare their son have his own dreams and aspirations. How dare he not want to go to college like his elder brother and work his way up the corporate ladder? Why would he spend nearly a decade of his life pursuing a career in music when obviously that wasn’t going to take him anywhere in life?

Even now, after his music did take off and touring the world, there was a loneliness in him. He felt that even now that he’s proven himself worthy, his parent’s didn’t think so.

“Yoongi.” you flash him a smile, holding onto your purse a bit tighter. You’re unsure if you being here was appropriate. You’ve only ever seen Yoongi a handful of times, all in which was left with the man leaving far too early. He wasn’t even present on your wedding day. “Are you busy?”

Yoongi blinks a few times and proceeds to open the door to his home a bit wider. “Did you want to come in?” he asks, uncertain if that’s what you wanted.

“Yes, thank you!” you nod. “I wanted to talk to you about something if that was okay with you?”

Yoongi steps out of the way as you enter, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor as you enter the foyer of his home. You take them off, turning towards Yoongi with a small grin.

“I don’t mean to seem rude, Y/N,” Yoongi begins, closing the front door to his home. It’s lavish, you’d admit, high ceilings and furnished quite modernly. “but why are you here? Is Yo-han okay?”

Yoongi allows you to come deeper into his home. The living space is large and homely. He offers you a seat on his leather chair and he rounds the corner to a bar area where there’s an array of wine aligning the wall.

“Wine?” Yoongi questions. “I have…harder liquor, too.” he’s a bit awkward when speaking with you. You were his brother’s wife for nearly five years now and he has no relationship with you.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Whiskey it is then.”

Wasn’t expecting that, especially at this time, but you aren’t going to complain. Yoongi places two clear cups onto the coffee table in front of each of you as he sits across from you. He pours the whiskey in two clear glasses and slides you one. 

“What do I owe the visit, Y/N?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” you murmur, manicured hands grasping the glass and shaking it around a bit. “Yo-han doesn’t know I’m here. He’s on a business trip.”

Yoongi furrows a brow. He watches you for a moment, pondering why you are telling him all of this and what was the real reason you were here.

“You…are a very amazing artist.”

Yoongi blinks. 

“Did you come all this way to tell me that?” Yoongi questions with a scoff.

“No, I’m sorry.” you murmur. You drink the whiskey in whole. It hits your throat and burns immediately, but you need all the liquid courage available. “Can I have more?”

Nodding slowly, Yoongi watches as you pour yourself more and down half of it. Your chest heaves a bit.

“Is everything okay, Y/N? You look nervous?” Yoongi notes. “Is everything alright with you and Yo-han?”

You nod hastily with a wave. “Yes, everything is fine. Promise.” you laugh, but even you sound unsure of yourself. 

Yoongi doesn’t pry any further.

“You don’t come around often, Yoongi.” you state. “I feel as if I don’t truly know you personally. I see you as Suga. Or Agust D.”

Yoongi furrows his brows. Was that why you’re here? To get to know him better? Even after all these years he finds it unbelievable, but possible.

“I’m aware. I’m sure you know I’m not the favorite.” Yoongi responds, almost bitterly. “Even after the home I bought my parents.”

The last line was uncalled for. By social media posts, Yoongi’s sure you have a good relationship with his parents, but everything that glitter isn’t exactly gold, right?

“Yo-han speaks of you fondly.”

“Does he?” Yoongi snickers. He drinks the whiskey and decides that he should probably follow your lead. “That’s nice to know, right? My older brother finally sees me as worthy enough to speak about after my success.”

Your foot taps lightly against the floor in nervousness. You bite your lip. Was this the right thing to ask without your husband's approval? You knew Yo-han loved his brother, but at times he would joke about how long it took for Yoongi’s music to take off, no matter how good said music was.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Yoongi is silent on your question. It comes randomly after a few moments of silent drinking. 

“I apologize if that’s too personal-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” Yoongi shakes his head. “No, I do not. I often shut myself into my craft too long. I’m a perfectionist and I don’t really have time to settle down.”

You nod in agreement. You noticed in Yoongi’s music how serious he took it - the touring, as well. Having a family wasn’t something he desired now and you could respect it fully.

“What about you and Yo-han?” Yoongi speaks up. “Are you trying for a baby? My mother always said she wanted to be a grandmother.” he chuckles a bit at how hard his mother can be.

You inhale deeply, placing the cup onto the coffee table. Exhaling, you nod your head.

“That’s what I wanted to speak with you about, actually.”

“Oh?” Yoongi furrows a single brow. He leans back into his seat. “I take it as you aren’t pregnant now for obvious reason.” he says, motioning to the liquor on the coffee table and your empty glass.

“You’re right, not yet.” you chuckle humorlessly. You needed to do this. No going back. After all, the worst thing Yoongi could say was “no” and that would be perfectly fine with you. “Yo-han works a lot.”

Yoongi nods a bit. “I understand. Our family can be workaholics.” he says. “He couldn’t take Valentine’s Day off?” he jokes a bit. Valentine’s day didn’t matter to people like him. He was single.

“He never does.” you admit, crossing your legs. Yoongi tilts his head, observing the look in your eyes. “We tend to celebrate it the first week of February then he’s out of town for work the following week.”

“You can’t go with him?” Yoongi questions with a shrug. He knows you don’t work. Yo-han had always stated that he wanted a stay at home wife. Life could be boring for you, he’s sure. You were alone often and didn’t have anything to do if you weren’t one that was big on hobbies.

“Yo-han prefers for me to stay home.”

“You say his name a lot.” Yoongi hums. He pours himself another shot. “You say what he wants a lot, too, Y/N. You haven’t said anything you wanted yet.”

You bite your bottom lip as Yoongi states the obvious. He drinks his whiskey as he watches you, awaiting for you to respond.

“I want a baby.”

Yoongi licks his lips of the whiskey. It’s beginning to fall down his throat like water now. 

“That’s nice. Are you two trying for one?”

Speaking with you was becoming more relaxing. He wished he would have more of a brother/sister-in-law relationship with you prior to now, but maybe you coming here was an attempt in doing just that.

“Yo-han-”

“Doesn’t want kids? Doesn’t want kids now?” Yoongi finishes your sentence with a furrow of his brows. His lips turn into a smirk. “Am I right?”

“You are.” you sigh, body warm with embarrassment. “He…he’s very cautious. He doesn’t even…” Should you be discussing your husband with his brother like this? “...allow himself to not wear condoms.”

Yoongi doesn’t want to appear rude when he laughs, but it sounds exactly like the Yo-han he knows. The same Yo-han that doesn’t want to have anyone stop him from climbing to the top - not even if it’s what his own wife wants. The same wife he forces to stay home alone half of the time. You couldn’t make any of this up.

“I was correct when I said everything that glitter isn’t gold.” Yoongi murmurs to himself, deciding to pour himself another shot. This time, he pours you one. Seemed like you needed it. “Do you have friends?”

You scoff at his question, taking the glass and downing the shot alongside him. “Are you calling me a lonely bitch?”

Yoongi laughs aloud while shaking his head. “Of course not!” he exclaims. “You being here…is not what I expected. It’s nice, though. Not everyone can keep up with drinking with me.”

You notice how much Yoongi and Yo-han looked alike. The dark hair that frames their face with eyes to match. Pale, smooth skin that appears like glass as it’s clear of blemishes. Yoongi was much more youthful, allowing himself to  joke with you in a way your husband doesn’t.

“My friends are all busy with their own lives and children.” you state with a shrug. “I’m sorry I’ve come unannounced.”

“You’re always welcomed, Y/N. You’re family.” Yoongi waves off. “You’re the only family that comes.”

The pair of you both sound bitter for your own reasonings. Wishing to ask him something makes your heart jolt in betrayal as you hadn’t bothered to gain a relationship with your brother-in-law prior to now. It made you appear selfish as this was your only goal.

“Why the long face?”

Yoongi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“I feel selfish for being here.” you admit. ‘’I came…to ask you something.”

Yoongi blinks. “That’s okay.” he says, placing his glass down onto the coffee table. “What do you need?”

Your palms grow sweaty as Yoongi appears genuinely willing to help. The years you’ve sat and listened to your husband bash his younger brother for not having the same aspirations of him makes you wish you spoke up on his behalf more often. 

“Y/N…?”

“I wanted your sperm so I can have a baby.” you blurt out, embarrassment flowing throughout your entire body. He possibly thinks you’re in need of money and here you are asking for his sperm. “But now I know I sound like a fucking lunatic asking you-”

“Y/N,”

“-and I should just go now, right?” you laugh nervously with a shake of your head. “Yo-han doesn’t want kids and me pretending that this child is his isn’t fair to him or you-”

“Y/N.”

“-and I’m such a bitch for-”

“Y/N!”

You stop your rambling with Yoongi’s voice echoing off of his walls and high ceiling.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice. You weren’t listening to me.” Yoongi apologizes.

“You’re not the asshole they make you out to be.” you blurt out. Maybe this was the alcohol talking now, allowing you not to hold in anything any longer. “I’m sorry-”

“None taken.” Yoongi snickers. He knows how he is spoken about in his family and it doesn’t bother him as it once did, even if it does still sting a bit. 

“Please forget I said anything, Yoongi.”

“Why?”

You freeze at Yoongi’s question. Slowly, your eyes lift to his, to find that he’s already looking your way.

“You want a baby, right?” Yoongi asks. “You’ve come to me for help.”

“I do…” you trail off. “But coming to you was selfish-”

“I’ll do it.”

You stare at Yoongi in disbelief. Maybe he was just drunk and agreeing to it because it sounds like the right thing to do at the moment.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” you queried. 

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” he shots back. “I agreed.”

“I…I wasn’t expecting to get this far, Yoongi.” you murmur. You lean up a bit, eyes cloudy. 

Yoongi chuckles at your reaction. It’s sad that he was going to make his own proposition to this.

“How did you expect to go about this exactly?”

“Well,” you lift yourself up to round the coffee table to sit beside Yoongi on his loveseat. “we can go to a clinic, right? You can…ejaculate-”

“Cum.”

Your body warms once more, but you nod your head with a little laugh. “Yes. Cum.” you say. “In a cup and I suppose the doctor can-”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Yoongi thinks for a moment that it isn’t fair to you with what he’s about to say next. It isn’t your fault that you were married into this family of his, nor should he take the frustration of his brother out on you. But he wouldn’t force anything onto you, and once he sobered up more, he would do as you asked and go to a clinic.

But as for now, Yoongi was being selfish.

“I want to do it naturally.”

The silence that comes afterwards is telling. You could hear a pin drop in the living area. Your eyes slowly wide towards Yoongi as he watches you as relaxed as ever.

“You want to fuck me?’

Maybe your response is crude, but his proposal was, as well. You were married to his brother and this would obviously be inappropriate.

However, so were you coming here behind your husband's back. It was a lose-lose situation either way.

“I know it’s wrong to want.” Yoongi admits, leaning into the leather couch. “But…”

Yoongi doesn’t finish his statement but you’re positive you understand what he’s attempting to say. You admitted to the things said about him and now it’s a form of revenge. You couldn’t be upset about it, truly.

“You…you won’t tell anyone?” you whisper, so low that it barely catches Yoongi’s ears. “It’ll be a secret you and I die on, right?”

Yoongi himself is astonished that you’re even considering it. He leans forward a bit with a lick of his lips.

“I won’t tell a soul.” Yoongi murmurs. “I’m not forcing you into doing this, Y/N. I’m a little drunk, I’m not going to lie.” he advises. Looking into your eyes, he doesn’t want to be that person. You’re already taken advantage of  enough by your husband. “You can come back in a few hours when I sober up and we can set up a meeting-”

“I want to.” you place a hand onto Yoongi’s cheek to silence him. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

Yoongi is but a man, and the words alone cause him to grow hard. He doesn’t act first, you do. You place your lips onto his, deepening the kiss needily. Maybe it was because you wanted to feel a man's hands on you, as selfish as it was. You missed your husband and only sleeping with him once a month before he eventually goes on another work trip causes you to be lonely.

Yoongi himself cannot remember when he’s been with a woman. He has random hookups that always signed with an NDA before anything happens, but that’s during tour, not as he’s recording an album. The liquor flowing through him adds the courage to wrap both arms around you and bring you into his lap. 

Yoongi’s hands are large as they rub along your body, causing moans to bubble up your throat but fall silent at your lips. This was wrong in so many ways. You are his sister-in-law, and beyond popular belief, he held a lot of respect for you. Only a strong woman could deal with Min Yo-han and his parents. However, the dirty words that you spoke to him were so tempting. He believes every man - even if they want a child or not - has a certain kink to them that is excited to impregnate a woman.

Yoongi isn’t alone with the same thoughts. Yo-han and Yoongi favored each other so much, but were so different. Yo-han is often straight to the point, sometimes not even kissing you. Yoongi is different, he takes this slow. He allows his hands to roam your body with such greed, as if it belongs to him - and for tonight, it does. He kisses your lips needily, but he savors the taste of them. He allows his lips to fall onto your chin to leave wet little pecks that lower to your neck.

“There’s no going back, Y/N.”

Yoongi’s voice is so deep against your neck. He’s fighting against his morals now, wanting nothing more than to fuck you like you want him to. Yet, he understands that this is wrong to take advantage of you in a vulnerable position. You didn’t come here for this.

“I know.” you moan back, your hips buckling. “Do you want to stop?”

Yoongi swallows. His hands settle onto your waist. “We…should…” he murmurs. As painful as it was for him to say. His hands grip onto your waist, his body going against what his mouth is speaking. “...we should stop this but…” he groans, his lips kissing against your neck. 

“No one has to know.” you respond, your own hands tugging at Yoongi’s dark tresses a bit. 

Yoongi will know, and so will you. When you fall pregnant and grow round with his child, he would know that it was him who did it for you. When you hold the child and raise it, it would be dark eyes that belonged to Yoongi, not Yo-han.

Was that something both of you could fathom?

“If this is truly what you want.” Yoongi mumbles. “We don’t have to do it here.”

Yoongi leans his head back to study your expression.

“We can go to my room.” Yoongi continued, unsure if that was too much. Yet, all of this was too much to begin with. 

“Okay.” you nod your head.

“How do you want to do this?”

Yoongi’s room is large, even bigger than your room at your home. It’s simple and screams Yoongi with a dark aesthetic. The bed is large for one man and is neatly made, as if he doesn’t sleep in here often. Maybe he didn’t as even if Yoongi and Yo-han were different, they were both Min’s and they worked their asses off.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sitting on his bed. 

“We can just…have sex for the sake of me cumming in you.” Yoongi does the same as you. “Or we can do more…”

Your thighs clench together a bit, body warming. 

“What do you want to do?” you ask him with a tilt of your head. 

“I want to eat you out.” Yoongi responds bluntly that it causes you to laugh at how straightforward he was. “But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

You remove your shirt and throw it aside and go to do the same for your pants. Yoongi watches with low eyes as you begin to undress.

“Yo-han is too straight-forward.” you say to Yoongi, inching your way towards him. You place a hand onto his shoulders, placing your lips on his in a short, but needy kiss. “He doesn’t tend to do…a lot.”

Keyword for he tends to just worry about his own needs; Yoongi understands. He acts in a way he interprets you want him to. He pushes you onto his bed, the silk sheets cool at the touch, but otherwise comfortable. He wraps your smooth legs around his waist, his bulge pressed firmly against you.

You groan at how hard Yoongi was, arms wrapped around his neck.

Yoongi is a man starved, his hands going to remove your bra and throw it aside. 

“I’d fuck you every night if you were my wife.” Yoongi gruffs, his tongue trailing down to your chest. Your nipples are hard for him and he wastes no time in suckling on the first one he finds. 

There’s adrenaline flowing through the both of you at this forbidden act. The way you moan so loudly for Yoongi to continue to suckle on breasts that didn’t belong to him. The way he does so effortlessly, appearing as starved for this as you were. 

Yoongi can suckle onto your breast all night until they’re swollen, but there’s another place he wants to put his lips on.

The feeling of Yoongi’s wet lips against your skin causes you to groan. It’s all entirely too surreal to fully grasp, especially on how willing Yoongi is to do this with you. How sudden it happened, without much thought. You could blame this on a drunken night, but that would only be a lie. You both were coherent enough to know what you were doing - and how much the both of you truly wanted to do this.

“W-What?”

Yoongi blinks his eyes a few times as your voice reaches his ears.

Your head lifted a bit from his bed when you noticed Yoongi had stopped between your legs and hadn’t done anything.

“Sorry,” Yoongi murmurs, placing his lips onto your inner thighs and gently pressing a kiss. “You’re very….pretty.”

Yoongi’s cheeks dusted a soft pink color at his own words and before you can react and possibly make this entire situation more awkward, his tongue licks between your folds. Your back arches a bit at the warmth of his tongue, but you don’t have time to process it.

Yoongi suckles onto your clit with such determination, large hands grasping both of your thighs so you aren’t able to move from him. 

Yoongi misses hearing a woman move for him. He was prone to lock himself away when he was busy working for months at a time. He was dedicated to his craft and while he was in the midst of recording an album, he didn’t need to be distracted. You, however, were the perfect distraction. 

Yoongi focuses solely on the way your thighs quiver as his tongue toys with your clit. His eyes flicker upward a bit, catching a glimpse of the way your mouth falls open to let out such melodic moans.

“I want you to cum on my tongue before I fuck mine in you.”

Your body shudders at such dirty words coming from your brother-in-law. Yoongi wasn’t a man of many words, especially not the times you’ve met him. Yet, here he was now. So confident and cool, a side so different from the mysterious demeanor he always held.

Dare you say you liked this Yoongi.

“Your tongue feels so good.” you gasp out, your stomach churning. Were you making it obvious that you weren’t used to this?

Yoongi already knows, of course. Even if you didn’t tell him, he notices just by the way you continue to act. Your hands are unsure where to go - one moment they’re clenching the bedsheets to yanking at his scalp; acts he doesn’t mind.

Yoongi leans back a bit, licking his lips of your juices. “Yeah?” he says smug, thumb pressing against your swollen clit. He rubs it gently just to tease you, tilting his head. “You wanna sit on it?”

The seriousness of Yoongi's tone stops you from giggling at what sounds like it could be a joke. You blink your eyes open.

“On your…” you’re confused on what exactly he wants you to sit on. 

“My face.” Yoongi deadpans. His dark eyes reach yours and he offers a low smirk. “Mind as well make the most of it.”

“Oh…okay.”

You don’t want to sound too eager, but it’s not a position you’ve ever been in. After all, Yoongi was right. The both of you mind as well make the most of this fucked up situation.

“Good.” Yoongi hums, lying beside you. “Face me.”

You’re far too conscious to actually sit on Yoongi’s face as he wants you to as the position itself is awkward. Your thighs quiver slightly and before you can ask if this was right, Yoongi’s hands - large and veiny - grasp onto your hips to press you down against his tongue. His eyes watch for your reaction, especially when you gasp out at his actions.

Yoongi’s willingness to eat you out is beyond the alcohol now - he actually wants to do this. He licks onto your clit as if he’s starved, his large hands gripping your hips to roaming down to your thighs. 

It’s deeper than that, of course. It’s deeper than Yoongi just wanting to pleasure you. He does, of course. But down within his core that he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, Yoongi knows it’s about his brother. Even if Yo-han was the preferred son with a high paying job that his parents preferred, it was him you chose to go to. Min Yoongi, the younger Min son who decided that his love for music outweighed what he felt for his own family that dubbed him an outcast. 

It was Yoongi who was pleasuring you now, his tongue flat against your clit, his head bobbing from side to side as his large hands grip at your naked skin. 

It was Yoongi who you were moaning so lovingly for, your delicate hands gripping his hair in your grasp, fluttering eyes watching him. 

It was him - Yoongi. The one who his family deemed unworthy and yet, here you are. You sought him out to impregnate you - something his brother couldn’t (or refused) to do. And he was going to enjoy every fucked up minute of it. In the end when it was time for him to meet his maker, he would pay for this sin he willingly partaken in.

Yoongi is painfully hard, his cock tight in his sweatpants. It twitches to be released - but he had all night with you. His brother wasn’t home and there wasn’t a rush, right?

“Yoon…Yoongi…” you moan his name so sweet that Yoongi groans against your clit, his hands roaming towards your ass. When he grips it do you moan his name once more, your eyes clenching shut.

Your hips begin to buckle a bit against his tongue, and Yoongi further encourages you by slapping your ass a bit teasingly. Your head hangs back a bit, soft “fuck” and “shit” coming from your gasping lips. You don’t realize just how loud you were becoming after each buckle of your hips, no longer feeling as self-conscious as you were originally - nor did Yoongi mind, either.

“Feels so good…” you hum, your hanging head now falling forward to look down at the man who’s causing you such great pleasure. Your eyes lock with his dark ones and you bite your lip a bit. “...we shouldn't be doing this.”

It was a statement. Neither of you stop and Yoongi’s hands only glide upwards to grasp your breast in his hands, squeezing them with such need. Your free hand places itself on top of his larger one, your walls clenching around nothing in general and you’re positive that you were going to cum soon.

You never cum from oral before and the thought just causes you  to squeal.

You were hot, Yoongi thinks. Utterly gorgeous that it upsets him that this was going to be the only time he was going to have you on his tongue. His tongue laps between your folds with such haste and need, determined to make you cum so he can taste what his brother doesn’t deserve. To think that his brother once flaunted you around with his arm around you just for you to be here with him.

You’re cumming entirely too fast for your liking, your toes curling. You stopped grinding against his tongue and instead allowed Yoongi to regain control, his free hand gripping your outer thigh and slightly lifting himself forward. He suckles roughly onto your sensitive bud until your thighs are shaking with overstimulation. Your breathing is hitched, your stomach clenching.

Yoongi is satisfied when you cum, spewing a line of curse words that a woman like you surely would never use. His entire lips and chin is coated with your juices when he finally allows a moment to rest, your body falling onto his bed.

Licking his lips, Yoongi glances your way.

“My brother must not make you cum enough.” he murmurs, dark eyes watching with satisfaction.

You don’t respond to Yoongi. You understand the bitterness in his tone. You don’t blame Yoongi for speaking of his brother the way he does. Your husband, in shorter words, can be an asshole. Especially to those he feels as though he is better than.

Or jealous of.

“I love him.” you say. It’s been a full five minutes before you respond to him. You managed to stop your thighs from quivering enough for your body to sit up. “I don’t doubt it.” Yoongi says. He watches you with hooded eyes as you crawl towards him until you’re hovering above him. 

“He’s jealous of you.”

You’re unsure why you’re telling Yoongi this. It’s going to do nothing but feed his ego more in knowing this along with fucking his wife. 

“He…would say he never knew you would be this successful.” you tell him, leaning down to press a deep kiss against his lips. You can taste yourself, and the act turned you on even further. 

Instantly, Yoongi wraps his arms around you. His hands rub along your smooth skin.

“I always knew you’d be successful.”

Your words cause Yoongi’s breath to hitch when you lean yourself away from him. Your lips kiss along his own jaw. 

“The way you speak makes me feel like you wanted this longer than you make out.”

Your tongue slowly trails along his chin before dipping down to his neck. 

“And if I did?”

Your tongue proceeds to trace the outline of his ear. Goosebumps erupt on his skin.

“I’ll fuck you right now, Y/N.” Yoongi grumbles, his fingernails digging into your hips and he thrusts his clothed cock towards your naked clit.

“I want to suck your cock first.”

You move faster than Yoongi can process. You’re already sliding down his body and hooking your hands beneath his pants to tug them down. 

You should be expecting Yoongi to be aroused, but not this erect. His cock looks like it hurts with how fast it springs out of his underwear. The tip is leaking pre-cum and it twitches when you wrap a hand around the base.

Yoongi hisses when your warm tongue wraps around his tip, suckling it like a lolipop. His eyes instantly roll, not remembering the last time he felt a woman’s mouth. He always was told that he worked too hard and he couldn’t help it - especially since he was a Min. You came  to Yoongi during a vulnerable time of need and it was no wonder he didn’t deny you.

“Shit, Y/N…”

You take his cock deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head sloppily as you suckle on his cock. The sounds of your gurgling mixed with Yoongi’s moans and curse words has you dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t recall the last time you were this wet for your own husband.  

Your eyes flicker upwards to watch Yoongi’s face. So handsome and reminiscent of Yo-han. His dark hair falls into his eyes, pink lips falling open to let out lustful moans. 

Your sucking and slurping erupted throughout the room, sounding just as sloppy as it looks. 

You don’t usually do this yourself - not because you don’t like it. You enjoy the lewd act immensely. You just refused to do it if your husband wouldn’t do the same. Yoongi so willing to go down on you caused you to want to do the same for him, the tip of his cock deep in your throat now. Your eyes are glossy with tears and determination, wanting to please the man just as he was determined to pleasure you.

“I’m not…” Yoongi hisses, a veiny hand going to grasp your hair to stop you. “...not cumming in your mouth, baby.”

Yoongi forces his cock - as much as he didn’t want to - out from your greedy lips. Saliva draws down the corner of your mouth, connecting it to his tip. Yoongi pants and shakes his head.

The pet name Yoongi calls you wants you to bring the cock right back into your mouth. It sounds so good coming from Yoongi, so natural. As if it’s a pet name he called you often.

“I’m gonna cum in you.”

“Please.” you beg, licking your lips. “Want you to fill me.”

Yoongi groans, his cock twitching. His hand is still tangled in your hair and he grips it a bit tighter. He takes a deep breath.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Yoongi questions. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Yoongi and his need to assure that you were comfortable was heartwarming. It nearly causes you to smile.

“Are you the vanilla type?” you joke.

“I’m whatever you’d want me to be.” Yoongi chuckles. His mind flashes with different ways he could have you - both passionately and disrespectfully.

Your hands, that lay on his thigh, slide forward. Past his torso to grip his shoulders.

“Follow my lead.” you say, getting to your feet just to sit onto his lap. Your clit is directly against his cock and you want nothing more than to grind against him, but this wasn’t the moment. You needed to feel him inside of you.

Yoongi does as you say, going to push off his pants so he can maneuver better. His hands lay upon your hips as you sit upon him, bringing his cock inside of you slowly. Yoongi lets out a low and deep groan, your pussy gripping around him so tightly.

Yoongi didn’t have a wife and that meant the sex he did have was just casual sex with women who signed NDA’s and wore condoms.

Now, however, it was different. This might be a one time thing, but to get to feel your pussy, so wet and warm wrapped around his cock was amazing. How could his brother not want to be inside of you at any given moment? How could he restrain himself from feeling you raw? Surely there had to be other forms of birth control besides a condom.

You’re needy to feel him deep inside of you, your arms wrapping around his neck as you begin to pounce. Your pussy clenches with each thrust, rising and falling sloppily. 

“Your pussy’s so wet.” Yoongi quips, voice deeper. His breathing is deep and his arms only tighten around your frame. His palms roam your naked skin greedily. 

You lean forward to place your lips against his, your tongue forcing your way through his lips. Your bare chest presses against his clothed one.

“Your cock feels so good.” you say between hushed kisses. You begin to shift yourself, your feet planted on the bed either side of him. 

This was bad.

You shouldn’t be here or agreed to this. 

You shouldn’t have allowed Yoongi to eat you out and you shouldn’t have sucked his cock.

It was far too late now, of course. There was no going back; especially with his cock plunging so deep inside of you.

Yoongi’s eyes roll with pleasure with each rise and fall of your hips. Skin slapping erupts throughout the room, followed by your squeals and his grunts. 

“My brother doesn’t deserve this.”

It’s difficult for Yoongi not to mention your husband, and maybe the sick side of you that knew this was wrong acknowledged that deep down, you enjoyed Yoongi’s praises. It was something you didn’t experience at home.

“You do?” you ask with a curt, smug snort and soon a soft moan. 

Yoongi’s cock was stretching you out in a way you needed, even if it had been just a few short weeks. Sex with Yoongi, though a one time thing, was something you didn’t know you needed until now. You rise and fall against his cock, pussy squeezing with such pleasure and desire that Yoongi’s nails dig into the skin of your hips. It was evident that neither of you wanted to stop.

“I do.” Yoongi hisses, this time meeting you halfway. The added thrusts coming from the man has his cock digging even deeper, hitting a spot that you weren’t sure was possible until now. “Isn’t this what you’re here for?”

You don’t respond to him, and it causes Yoongi to become even more smugged. You never took  Yoongi as the dominant type - yet again, you never thought about sex with Yoongi until the possibility presented itself to you.

Yoongi hooks both arms underneath your thighs and flips you and him. You’re on your back now and him hovering right above you. You gasp at the sudden change of position. However, having Min Yoongi hovering above you was well worth it. He enters you without a second thought, the feeling intensifying when he begins to thrust in you.

“Fuck,” Yoongi growls, his head hanging as his eyes watch the way the both of you connect to one another. His cock springs in and out of you needily, your cunt so wet and gushing with juices. “your pussy is so wet and ready to be bred.”

Yoongi feels the way you clench around him at his words - such filthy words that turn the both of you on. You didn’t know just how much you enjoyed the dirty talk and it causes you to think vaguely of how your sex life with your husband always appeared so rushed. He was tired as he worked himself hard and at the end of it all, sex was more about him than you.

“You want that, huh?” 

Yoongi wouldn’t say that he’s waited for this moment. He wasn’t aware a moment like this would ever present itself to him. However, he finds that he enjoys the closeness that you and him share. How open you and he are, even after not fully accustomed to the other prior to now. 

Yoongi finds that he enjoys littering your naked skin with kisses and soft bites that don’t linger. When his hands wander around your skin, goosebump litter his own at how soft and warm it is. 

“I do.” you quip when Yoongi pounds deeper into you, so deliciously that it causes your eyes to roll a bit. “Want you to cum in me.”

Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. Not because he doesn’t want to cum in you, he does. He has a deep desire to fuck his seed into you so deep until there’s nothing left, but that meant that it would all be over. His high (and yours) would die down and you would go home. 

There wouldn’t be a next time as you weren’t his wife. And even if he talked down to his brother, at the end of the day, his brother was who you belonged to.

Something gold touches your face and causes you to flutter your eyes open. Yoongi hovers so close above you that his chain, a diamond chair that was once tucked underneath his shirt, slides across your warm face.

“K-Kiss me.” you say - more like demand - to Yoongi. Your shaky hands place themselves onto his cheeks so he’s looking right at you.

Yoongi connects his lips onto yours, his hips snapping forward. He groans against your soft lips, your velvet walls drawing him deeper and deeper into you.

“You’re so beautiful.” Yoongi grunts against your lips. “You take my cock so well.”

You press your lips deeper against his, arms wrapping around his neck. Your body intensifies, quivering right beneath the man. Your back arches a bit and you hold onto Yoongi a bit tighter.

“You’re…fuuuck,” your words drag out, stomach churning. “you’re beautiful, too.”

Yoongi, against his body’s best judgment, pushes you back against his bed. He leans back to admire your naked body, breast bouncing erratically as he fucks you. He licks his lips, dark eyes boring right into you. His right hand places onto your stomach, cock grinding. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi tilts his head a bit. “Our baby would be beautiful, too, then.”

“You can’t say things like that.”

Your pussy clenches harder, however, despite your words. 

“Your pussy says differently, baby.” Yoongi chuckles. “You like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking a baby into this sweet pussy.”

The hand that presses against your stomach to keep you in place trails down to your clit. His thumb places firmly against your wet clit, swirling the sensitive bud that has your back arching against. When you’re about to shut your legs - because fuck was the pleasure overwhelming - Yoongi’s free hand slaps against your thigh to keep you from doing so.

“You’re going to be so beautiful round with my baby.” Yoongi’s thumb twirls your clit roughly. The way you’re taking him now he knows you’re going to cum soon. “You think the baby would look like me?”

Yoongi grunts once more, thrust becoming sloppy. He was going to cum himself at just the thought of witnessing you swollen with his seed. Just the thought of you holding a baby with the same eyes as him was enough for him to want to breed you right here and now. 

“It doesn’t matter who you’re married to, baby,” Yoongi says, marveling at the sight of your juices leaking onto his sheets as you were cumming. The filthy and demanding words mixed with the overstimulation he forces upon you was too much. “I’ll always be the one that got you pregnant.”

Your hand reaches out for Yoongi’s shirt for support. His words were too much and would be added to the list of fucked up things you were doing now - that you enjoy. 

“I want your baby, Yoongi.” you cry, squirming beneath him. “Want your cum in me.”

“Fuck, baby.” Yoongi shakes his head, his entire body shuddering as he cums not even a minute later. Milky ropes of warm cum coat your walls fully.

Hanging his head back, Yoongi pants. He doesn’t move and neither do you. There’s sweat lining his forehead and he’s trying to calm himself down before he does anything more.

Your chest rises and falls when you feel Yoongi lay beside you. You feel his cum ooze out of you - but still feel so full of him. You shut your legs, the selfish part of you not wanting to waste not a drop of it.

“Are you okay?”

Yoongi’s hand is soft, even if it was a bit callosed, against your cheek. He gently turns your head to look at him. 

“I’m sorry if I was a bit…much.” Yoongi’s cheeks reddened and he chuckled a bit.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” you murmur to him, moving a bit closer without much thought. “Thank you…?” you’re unsure what to say and thanking him sounds a bit foolish, however when Yoongi laughs, so do you. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.”

You bite your lip and once more, without much thought, you kiss him. You inhale into the kiss, your hand holding onto his cheek before you disconnect your lips from his.

Yoongi licks his lips as if to savor your taste. He hums. “You can stay the night…if you want.” Yoongi adds the last part. “Or you can go home…but I’m not forcing you to.”

You allow yourself to smile at Yoongi. 

“I can show you my studio. You can see why the world doesn’t see me for months at a time.” Yoongi jokes. Did he sound desperate for you to stay with him? Was he that lonely and pathetic?

“Okay.” you say a bit too quickly. You hoped you didn’t sound desperate yourself.

“Okay.” Yoongi repeats, his thumb trailing the outline of your lips.

Yoongi’s fingers are going to bruise your skin with how tight he holds them. His hips are snapping once more, drilling into you at an alarming speed. From the outside looking in, the sight could be seen as alarming with how rough Yoongi is. Your skin is flushed with hand marks by the man, yet neither of you could be bothered to care right now.

Your back arches and your arms struggle to keep yourself in the position as yoongi pounds into you. You’re squealing with each powerful thrust his hips send your way. 

You are unsure how many times you allowed Yoongi to fuck you - you lost count since the following night. You didn’t need to go home because there wouldn’t be anyone waiting for you anyways. Yoongi had done what he promised and showed you his studio. It’s dimly lit with several computer screens. He showed you how he mixed and produced different sounds together and played snippets of music that he had yet to release.

How you and Yoongi became entangled after that - and for the first time - is beyond you. In a short amount of time, the chemistry was there. Obviously.

Now, the following morning, you and Yoongi were yet again doing the forbidden act that should’ve never happened in the first place. Now, you and he were further disrespecting your marriage, but you cannot bring yourself to care now.

“Your cock is so deep in me.” you squeal, your face burying into the soft bed sheets.

 Your fingers dig into them as Yoongi forces your legs apart further. Both of his hands allow you grace and slams against his bed. That meant that now Yoongi could go even deeper.

“I’ve fucked you all night, baby, and you keep coming for more.”

Your ass is amazing, Yoongi thinks, the way it bounces off of his abdomen. He cannot count himself how many times he held it in his hands as he fucked you, finding that it fits perfectly in his hands just like the rest of your body did.

“I can’t help it…feels so good.” 

In the short amount of time you stopped the bashful act and fully allowed Yoongi’s dirty words to get to you. You entertained him fully, finding that it made the entire situation better.

“You’re such a whore, Y/N, allowing me to fuck a baby in you over and over again.”

As many times as Yoongi’s fucked you, he hasn’t kept his lips off of you for long. He had eaten you out right in his studio, his fingers plunging so deep in you that you made a mess all over his chair - and he’d have it no other way.

“It’s going to be sad when you go back to your husband, right? You’re gonna fuck my brother but think of me the entire time.”

Your hair is being yanked this time and you are forced against Yoongi’s chest. His cock plunges deeper in you so heavenly that you’re seeing stars. While one hand is entangled into your hair, the other one roughly tugs at your breast.

“And when he doesn’t fuck you good enough, baby, just come back to me.” Yoongi’s voice is so deep and full of lust that it shivers down your spine and juices erupt down your thighs and leak into his sheets.

You don’t intend to stay another day. Yoongi had allowed you to borrow clothing and you had showered in his master bathroom before meeting him for breakfast. The aroma greeted you upon entering and Yoongi spares you a single glance.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” you admit, seating yourself on the island chair and watching as he plates your food. “Smells nice…” you trail off.

You and Yoongi eat mainly in silence when you’re unsure if it’s a comfortable one or not. Your mind races with questions that you’re unsure how to ask.

“There’s no doubt that you’ll have a positive pregnancy test.”

Yoongi breaks the silence first once he finishes his food, drinking a dark liquid that you’re sure isn’t juice like you had. 

You snicker a bit, body flushing. “Yeah. No doubt.”

Yoongi is quiet for another moment, his eyes roaming your facial expression.

“Do you regret it?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing away for a moment.

“It’s…I feel terrible.”

Yoongi inhales, his leg shaking a bit at your words.

“I…I feel terrible because I enjoyed it too much and…” you meet his eyes now. It was an eventful two days away from the reality that was your life. Yoongi was more than what his family made him out to be - even outside the sex. He was an amazing person to speak with. When you spoke, it’s as if he cared about what you had to say; no matter the topic. He gives you undivided attention that you never got from your husband. “...now I have to just forget it didn’t happen.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath. His heart jolted a bit at your confession.

“You know I’m never too far.” Yoongi murmurs. He feels foolish for stating it. It would be weird that you and he are suddenly so close that it would obviously draw attention.

“I know.” your voice is meek and small. 

“I want to give you something.”

Yoongi doesn’t meet your eye when he lifts himself from the island table beside you and takes your plates and his. He washes them to further leave you in agonizing suspense.

Once Yoongi is done, he dries his hands and goes through his pockets. He’s wearing baggy sweatpants with deep pockets. He pulls out a rectangular pad and opens it, ripping a piece of paper out of it.

“Here.” Yoongi holds the paper out for you to take. You notice instantly that it’s a…check.

Your eyes scan the check, slowly widening at just how much money is on it.

“What is this?” you say hastily, squinting your eyes at Yoongi.

“A check.” Yoongi responds matter-of-factly. “For…the baby.” he nods his head a bit.

You drop the check onto the table and swallow. “I’m…not even sure if you got me pregnant.” you say, but then again it was no doubt Yoongi had. The amount of times he milked your walls in 2 days, there was no doubt that a month from now you would surely receive positive news. “I can’t accept that, Yoongi.” you shake your head.

“Why not?”

You scoff. “Why not? Why would I?” you quip. “I…I…the agreement wasn’t this.” you continue as you’re pointing at the check. “I…we didn’t really think any of this through.”

“Of course we didn’t,” Yoongi snickers but agrees nonetheless. “We acted out of lust and attraction. However…I want to help you.”

You’re silent as Yoongi continues on.

“I…it’s going to be hard, Y/N. Watching you raise a kid that’s mine but…I understand. You’re married to my brother and that’s not going to change. You came to me for help and I intend on doing just that. Deposit the check into a savings account. Over time it’ll accumulate interest and more money for the baby…”

Yoongi’s tone is serious. Your eyes glance down at the check.

“Yoongi…” you trail off. 

Yoongi stands a bit straighter. 

“Think about the baby, Y/N.” Yoongi murmurs. “You trusted me enough to come to me. Trust me enough to know that I’ll always help you if you need it.” he states. “I’ll be the best uncle there can be.”

Yoongi’s tone doesn’t match his words, and you aren’t sure if your own feelings would match the reality that you’re about to put yourself through.

@whipwhoops @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @babycandy111 @investedreader

Part Two

[vivimura]

belly button piercing fixated boyfriend!riki ♡

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ something about the little jewel adorning your belly button has riki fascinated in more ways than one.

GENRE ~ smut, fluff

WORD COUNT ~ 2.113k

ᯓ★ requested. ahh, this is kinda mid but i haven't posted a lot lately so pls bare with me and comment, follow and reblog! ily guys

riki was never one to be controlling of what kind of clothes you chose to wear. he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would only encourage you to dress however you wanted, and would even shower you with compliments every chance he got.

though in all honesty, if he was ever given the power to, he'd give absolutely anything up to see you in that cute little pink tank top of yours.

maybe it was the way its straps, so thin, seemed to be falling off your shoulders constantly. or maybe how thin and fitted it was, its neckline low enough to give him a boner if he stared at it for too long.

but— if there was one reason riki was sure of why he loved that top so damn much, was how cropped it was, giving him all the access he needed to the little diamond piercing your belly button he loved oh so much.

he swiftly took the baseball cap snug on the top of his head off, tossing it in a temporary park, his intense eyes never leaving your figure on his bed as he did so. running a hand through his hair, he broke the seemingly comfortable silence with his deep voice.

"what're you doing?"

you, slouched back against a pillow by the headboard of riki’s bed, peaked at riki from over the top of your book.

“just reading.”

riki hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes tracing over the way of which you were positioned. he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest. he watched the way your eyes lingered on the book, then at the way your pretty lips gently parted as you spoke. 

he pushed himself off the frame, approaching the side of the bed. a small smirk grazed his features as he sat on the end, facing in your direction. when you didn’t look up, he made an effort to grab your attention with a firm grip on your ankle.

“hey—” you yelped when he suddenly yanked at your ankle, the action not harsh enough to actually hurt you but powerful enough to make your body lie down completely on the bed. 

you huffed and rolled your eyes, biting back a smile over how proud riki seemed of being able to have caught you off guard as you closed your book, gently placing it on the night stand beside.

“there. i’m paying attention to you now, you big baby.”  you opened your arms as an invitation for him to join you on the bed.

the satisfied smirk plastered on his face widened into a grin. riki’s eyes followed the way your arms stretched out. he took note of how you watched him stare at the sliver of skin and the glimmer stud in the middle that was exposed from the stretched out fabric of your top. with a subtle laugh he quickly took his place in the space on the bed you left for him. he leaned over, caging you in between his arms as he gently lowered himself on top of you, shifting down just enough so that he was face front with your stomach. his arms found their way around your waist as he settled himself in between your legs. his palms pressed against the sides of your lower torso, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against your skin. he laid his head against your stomach with a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. he was quiet for a second, but broke the silence with his usual deep, sultry voice. “comfy.”

you laughed softly over how it was basically second nature for him to cuddle up to you. you extended one hand to reach his scalp, gently scratching it and playing with the hair there.

riki’s eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. a small hum left his lips, and to the average ear it would’ve sounded like he was in complete bliss— maybe even relaxed. but he wasn’t. every slight touch from you was only serving to rile him up. he nuzzled his whole face against your stomach, his nose and lips pressing onto your skin. his thumbs crept under the tank top you were wearing, slowly caressing the soft skin beneath. he lifted his head to lick his lips, once again leaning down to begin peppering soft, wet kisses on the skin surrounding your navel. riki chuckled at the way your stomach flinched every time his warm, wet lips would meet your skin.

“pretty..” he commented, planting yet another kiss on your warm skin. he lifted his head slightly and glanced up at you, making eye contact as he flicked his tongue and swirled it around the bottom gem of your piercing.

your breath hitched, and you let out a quiet exhale to muffle the moan that had built up in your throat. you tilted your head back and shut your eyes to calm yourself down, soon craning your neck back down at him.

“you're really obsessed with that thing, aren't you?”

‘obsessed’ might've been an understatement on your part, riki thought. riki let out a huff of laughter before trailing more kisses along the skin just around your piercing. when he eventually pulled away and looked back up at you, his eyes darkened almost completely. they had gone from their usual sparkly, dark brown to half-lidded obsidian ones. one with desires. “what can i say?” he shrugged, licking his lips. “it's pretty.”

you always thought about how unfair it was, the way riki was able to hold eye contact without wavering, no matter what the situation he was in. the little teasing glint in his orbs, his mouth almost permanently attached to your skin, the way your stomach glistened with his saliva, it was going to be all the slow but apparent death of you. you bit down on your lower lip, seeing through his reasoning of it being ‘pretty’ to ‘i wanna turn you on’. “stop it, riki..”

a low hum left riki as his eyes watched the wet trail his tongue left behind. his hands began to wander again, his fingers dipping under the waistband of the shorts you were wearing— that, too, were driving him crazy. “stop what?” he asked, his voice sultry and deep as he started to move his head down, peppering kisses on your lower abdomen. one of his hands held the left side of your hips, the other snuck up your loose shorts and teasing the edge of your panties.

without giving you any time to process or respond, he further started to kiss his way down and reached your skin right above the waistband of your shorts, his hand still holding onto the left side of your hip to keep you from squirming away. all the while, his fingers sneakily trailed up, ‘accidentally’ brushing by the folds of your pussy.

you let out a sharp gasp, whimpering at the sudden stimulation. your hand caressing his hair tightened in grip, your head now unable to form coherent thoughts, falling back onto the pillow.

he watched your reaction intently, the sight of it causing a low chuckle to escape his mouth. he loved watching the way your body reacted to his touch. the way you were already unraveling beneath him, the needy look in your eyes, the heavy breathing, your soft tugs on his hair.

“yeah, thought so.” the tips of his fingers began tracing the curves of your clothed pussy in a manner excruciatingly slow, causing it to flinch and clench under his touch.

“riki..” you mumbled out his name almost as a whine of need, earning a string of sultry chuckles from him. he hummed in acknowledgement, the sound of it having an edge of playful mockery.

he pulled his hand out of your shorts and sat up on his knees, shifting forward to kneel between your legs instead. the new posture revealed the probably painful erection outlined by his gray sweats. “tell me what you want, baby..” he purred out, untying the knot of the drawstrings of your shorts and beginning to tug it down. 

you bit down on your lower lip in anticipation, spreading your legs wide to accommodate for his large frame. you took the action of him undoing your drawstrings as a silent command to lift your hips and let him take off the shorts, and so you did. “you..”

the single word, so pure and deprived of explicit, conveyed a clear sense of need to riki in such a way that caused his cock to twitch. he let out a hoarse chuckle as an attempt to keep his own behavior in check and nodded. “mm.. yea, i’ll give you what you want...”

by the end of his sentence, riki had tossed the flimsy material of your shorts away and had begun to fumble with his own clothes. riki held back a groan at how visibly wet you’d gotten, busying himself by pulling his tee off and pushing down his pants and boxers in one motion. the angry, mauvish tip of his cock bounced by his abdomen and riki moved forward, pressing one hand beside your head to support his weight.

riki teasingly began rubbing the head of his cock up and down your clothed folds, coating it in your arousal.

you let out a sound between a whimper and whine, hands forming fists of the sheets below. your arousal mixed with his precum drenched the material of your underwear, thinning it in a way that made every sensation of his touch so apparent to be felt, but not enough to please.

“so, so pretty..” riki repeated for the nth time, continuing to toy his tip to your pussy no matter how impatient it made him.

however, the soft whimpers escaping your lips and the way your pussy pulsated was too much for riki to keep up with. he let go of his cock, hooking a finger into the elastic of your panties and began pulling it down.

with a satisfied sigh, he tossed it away, taking in the sight of your wetness all for him to ravish. he aligned his cock, holding onto your hips as he slowly slid into you.

you moaned out his name, your back arching as a reflex as you got yourself used to the feeling of him inside you. his fingers dug into your hips in a way somehow pleasing, and he slowly began to thrust himself in and out of you.

riki groaned and threw his head back at the familiar, nevertheless incredibly pleasing sensation of your tight pussy. he let out a silent curse every time you’d clench a little around him, fucking you with deep strokes.

the pretty sounds of your moans were like music to his ears, as his hips snapped forward over and over again, draining your mind of any thoughts except for him, and how good he made you feel.

one of his hands gripping your hips moved to lay flat against your stomach, and he groaned at the cool sensation of your piercing under his warm palm, and how it was protruding out from the effect his cock stuffed deep inside you. “fuck, baby..”

he flicked the jewel with his finger and continued pounding into you, leaning forward to capture your lips into a bruising kiss that muffled both your sounds of pleasure. he swallowed your moans and invaded his tongue into your mouth, picking up the speed at which he slammed into you balls deep. he could feel you flutter and clench around him as evidence that you were close, so he slid his hand from your stomach down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in hard, fast circles.

the kiss, initiated by him, was broken by you when he began pleasuring your clit, feeling the need to be able to moan freely. your legs trembled and bucked just a little over how he could make you feel so damn good.

“riki, shit-.. i’m gonna..”

“fuuuck..”

he groaned out at the feeling of your cum beginning to coat his cock. riki’s dark eyes bore into yours, and with a feral groan, he slammed himself deep into you, burying his cock into your pussy as his own release overtook him.

grinding his hips into you, he pushed every bit of his release back into you, letting go of your clit and hip to interlock his hands with yours. for a few moments, the two of you savored the moment of high and panted to catch your breath.

he leaned forward and kissed you once again, this one more sweet and intimate than the last one.

[celestiamour]

Ever since squid game s1&s2 wi hajoon character😩 I even saw a clip of his back 💀ok im getting side tracked😭so may I please request a smut with junho x fem reader where he’s stressed trying to find his brother but his wife or gf is there for him to keep him calm. It could literally be any plot😭 just need Jun Ho

ft. hwang jun-ho x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ eating you out after a long stressful day┊0.7k words

setting: season 1, before the 33rd games contains: smut!! dom jun-ho & sub reader┊oral fixation, receiving oral, overstimulation, mentioned nipple play & marking, established relationship

➤ author's note: i need this so bad, the new year depression is hitting and i’m so lonely

being a police detective is insanely stressful on levels he couldn’t even begin to explain, even more so when it’s a case related to him personally. ever since his brother went missing, he’s been relentless in his pursuit to find him, searching for even the tiniest clues that may help push the dead end he’s been stuck at for so long. he comes back a little bit later each night with less and less energy, crashing out on the couch and fall asleep to stop the raging headache from considering all of the possible things that could have happened. 

he still makes an effort to be there for you though, taking time out of his busy schedule to take you out on at least one date per week, not just to remind you that he loves you even with how busy he is, but for him to relax too. there’s nothing better than being comfortable and able to turn off the gears constantly turning in his brain in the company of someone he adores so much, and returning home to rest in your warm embrace is akin to heaven for his troubled mind. 

sometimes he likes to shut his brain down entirely when having sex with you and just thoughtlessly do his own thing. it’s almost therapeutic for him, even though you’re the victim of his ministrations and find your body suffering from too much pleasure (if it’s even a thing, he draws a thin line that makes you wonder).

like he is right now, hands spreading the inside of your thighs with a tight grip to prevent them from closing and his mouth laser-focused on what’s in between.

“i-it’s too much,” you whined, trying to push him away for a second of relief yet making no real attempt to do so, limbs slacking after a mere second of effort. perspiration had covered your skin in a thin sheen, shining under the light of the ceiling fixture and drawing attention to his previous actions: marks from constant sucking and biting into your soft flesh all over your neck and chest area. 

he simply hummed in response, the vibrations sending pleasure straight to your clit and making your whimper, not really listening to you. there weren’t really any thoughts in his head at the moment, only trying to pull another orgasm from your spent body to taste more of your addicting nectar and listen to your cries that sounded like the song of an angel.

you originally wanted to pay him attention before yourself, taking the edge off the perpetual stress he was going through with his climax, yet this was all he wanted to do, sucking on your clit like it was candy until the neighbors knew his name. there was no real skill or technique behind his movements, just pure unadulterated passion and lust as he pulled you even closer than you thought possible with an increased pace of fucking you with his tongue. 

it felt so suffocatingly hot, taking another breath only to let out another pitched moan in a vicious cycle. you didn’t know where to put your hands, alternating from the bedsheets to your oversized t-shirt stolen from his before finally tangling your fingers in his dark locks and tugging which caused him to groan in response. he finally opened his eyes and met your half-lidded ones, but he did not stop his assault on your engorged pearl. truthfully, the sight of you as such a blissed-out mess was almost enough to make him cum untouched, and he’s not even certain if he didn’t.

the familiar feeling of an orgasm washes over you, the intensity of it being your third tonight making your back arch off the mattress and your toes curl with a pitiful gasp. still, jun-ho’s lips stayed latched onto your abused pussy, lapping up all of your arousal like a damn dog until you were all cleaned up with nothing but his spit slicking your folds. you whimpered when he finally let go only to part your swollen hypersensitive cunt with his finger, admiring how it quivered and clenched around nothing begging for more.

it was going to be a long night, but it’s worth it if he gets the satisfaction of carrying you out of bed the next day due to your shaking legs and he finally wakes up with a clear head for once.

[meowdei]

Sukuna hates your job. He also hates early mornings. If you put them both together, he hates the fact that your job requires you to wake up early in the morning—and by default, it wakes him, too.

“Sukuna,” you sigh. It’s the same back and forth every day. A nonstop battle of push and pull as you try to leave your (sadly comfortable) bed while he stubbornly keeps his arm draped around your body. “C’mon, we do this every day.”

“Yeah, so then stop,” he grumbles. 

“I meant you,” you purse your lips. “We wouldn’t do this every day if you would just let go.”

“We wouldn’t do this every day if you’d quit wakin’ me up.”

You let out an exasperated exhale as his arms curl around your waist tighter, pulling you closer so he can bury his face into your chest. You don’t like to admit that you somewhat encourage his difficult behavior by letting your fingers weave into his messy hair, raking your nails along his scalp while he shivers lightly. 

“I can’t cuddle you forever, you know,” you hum, smiling softly despite the absurdity of it all. “We have bills to pay.”

“I don’t need cuddles,” he grunts. It’s a ridiculously blatant lie—you’re getting dangerously close to running late because he won’t let you leave the bed, and the only reason for that is because he stubbornly refuses to let your body disentangle from his.

You expect nothing less from him, of course. You’re not naive enough to think Sukuna would admit that he appreciates having your body pressed close against his, but the evidence of his rather grumpy frown is enough that you’re contently able to assume. Gently, you pinch his cheek, grinning as you murmur, “You’re pretty clingy in the mornings.”

“Be quiet.”

“Not even going to deny it, huh?” You tease, giggling softly as he cracks open an eye and glares through sleepy, bleary pupils. “You’re down bad.”

You like to think you and Sukuna have come a long way. It’s hard to break through walls and navigate how far you can push through his exterior when it’s as tough of an exterior as it is. The first time you dare to reach between your bodies and hold his hand, yours is clammy from overthinking his reaction. What if he pulls away? Or swats your hand away? Or gets annoyed? Or weirded out? What if he realizes he doesn’t like you like that? Your brain runs a mile a minute, coming up with every worst possible outcome for ages before you have the nerve to close the gap.

(It was all for nothing in the end. He’d casually tightened his grip, of course, so your inner pep talk in your head was a pointless fit of anxiety, but you don’t think you can be blamed. He’s not exactly the most emotionally available individual.)

Now, you think fondly, he never lets go. There’s always a hand on your body. The ones that rest on your hips as he stands from behind. The one that grabs your wrist to tug you along so you keep up. The one casually laid across your thigh as you sit. The one that hikes up your shirt when he’s particularly shameless. 

He clicks his teeth with a scowl as he glances up at you and grunts, “I’m not down bad. I barely even tolerate you.”

“You seem pretty obsessed to me. I guess being this beautiful is hard to ignore, huh?”

You can practically feel the smile he’s fighting back, grinning down at him as he tries to keep his scowl painted firmly on. “It’s too early for this, brat. Get back in bed.”

“Baby, I’d love to. But I have work,” you argue, pouting.

He pretends he doesn’t hear you. You scoff incredulously as he simply pulls the blankets tighter over his shoulders and settles against your body, trying to fall back asleep as if you’re not behind schedule and risking an angry questioning from your manager. And as aggravated as you should be, you’re not.

You can’t be. (Because, really, who else has the luxury of witnessing Sukuna be clingy? Certainly no one else but you. What sort of fool would you be not to take advantage of it from time to time?)

“I know you can hear me,” you roll your eyes.

“Then you’re perfectly aware I’m ignoring you,” he huffs.

“Don’t be stubborn—I’ll be back before you know it,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He melts a bit, but his grip only gets tighter if anything. “You’re not leaving at all. Now let me sleep.”

You slump back against your pillows in defeat, letting him smugly doze off again as he presses half of his body weight over you, just to be sure you don’t try to escape. You watch the rise and fall of every steady breath. The way the usual crinkles on his face from his almost permanent frown are smoothed out. The way his lips are parted and soft puffs of air exhale every few moments. You can’t help but think how far you and Sukuna have come. How easily it is to love him and feel loved—how impossible it seemed at one point to know if he even cared.

And if you end up sending a quick text to lie about being too sick to come in just to cuddle some more, you think there are worse things to lie about.

[bunnis-monsters]

Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!

Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?

Sexy time with the fancy man please!

A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!

It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.

Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.

So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.

“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“

He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.

“… I’ll take all of it.”

You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.

This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.

It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.

What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.

They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.

But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?

Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.

You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.

It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.

“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”

Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.

“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”

His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.

“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.

“So soft, gods what a beauty…”

It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.

His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.

You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.

Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.

“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”

He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.

“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”

Part 2?

———————

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