#and i loved his intensity and drive and commitment

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Out of the weasley brothers who do you think is the biggest fool when in love

impossible question they're all idiots

just kidding here's the order I think they'd fall into from least to most foolish (they are so close that I went back and forth on the order multiple times 😂)

1. Bill - he's a grown man. he knows how to handle himself in almost all circumstances and it takes a lot to get him flustered. he's also not a cheesy sort of romantic, he's more intense. he's tends to be more serious and knows exactly what he wants (and how to get it). he's going to outright tell you how he feels, no games, no bullshit. he can be possessive and jealous, though, a little rough around the edges, so mind his teeth.

2. Fred - is he foolish or insane? no telling. but he's giving 10000% into getting and keeping the person he loves. Rules and societal norms be damned. And he's not giving up until the fat lady sings, and he'll duct tape her mouth shut if he has to. single-minded, blind determination is the name of the game, and once he has you, you would not believe the ego on this boy. he'll be smug for a year. careful not to let his ego scare you off. he may talk like it's all about him, but at the end of the day, you're his entire universe.

3. Percy - Percy is the "I like you so I'm ignoring you" type, which is foolish. He sees romance as a frivolous distraction, and it would take some time for him to let that go and accept that he's in love. 9 times out of 10, the person gives up or loses interest before Percy figures out his shit. if Percy does manage to get you, he'll be a giddy, nervous wreck for six months because he never thought he'd get this far. he's eternally grateful that you gave him enough water and sunshine to finally grow.

4. George - the rizzler. charm on 10000. you fell in love with him first (but he fell in love harder). but as soon as he has you, all the suave and charm goes out the window. he's an absolute lovesick puppy, the biggest simp. anyone and everyone knows that he's in love and who with because his brain turns off when they're around. he just can't help himself when it comes to the person he loves, and he will walk face backwards off a cliff if you asked him to. please don't ask him to.

5. Charlie - Mr. One Night Stand. Mr. Fast and Loose. but when he actually falls in love, he's goner. done for. someone call a minister because Charlie is halfway down the aisle. he's 100000% committed from the start. saying I love you on the second date. he's all in, so buckle up buttercup because Charlie is a wild animal with a sweet tooth, and you're the prettiest dessert he's ever seen.

6. Ron - Ron is a lot like Percy in this way, he's in denial that he has feelings. But instead of ignoring you, he's going to pick on you, pull your hair, drive you up the wall because he thinks it's hot when you tell him off. he has the emotional range of a teaspoon, so he's going to be very dumb and very clumsy in the process of sorting out his feelings, and make a lot of mistakes in the process. but he will be the fiercest protector and most loyal friend you could ask for, just have patience.

[lacrimosathedark]

Hiya. Aroace-spec enby Hazbin fan and Radioapple shipper here. No hard feelings here, but you are incredibly misinformed so allow me to learn you a few things.

Firstly, I can tell that this is something of a vent post. That's okay, sometimes you need to just get your feelings out into words and be heard by somebody, anybody. That's alright.

That being said, when that vent includes something people enjoy in non-harmful ways (like shipping fictional characters) you don't add those tags. Ship hate stays out of ship tags for everyone's safety; so the shippers aren't hurt during what could be their only fun time, and so you aren't hurt when less understanding people retaliate. Because they will, as you've maybe noticed by now.

I'm putting the rest of this under a cut because it's long because I am incapable of shutting the fuck up and overexplain. I just want you to know I'm not yelling at you and hopefully don't feel too overwhelmed by this.

Now, I'm glad you want to defend us, but defending us without accurately understanding us only causes harm. As someone on the trans spectrum that's usually overlooked (and maligned if you're transfem) I hope you recognize that. People are so intensely misinformed on sex and gender that even when they advocate for us, sometimes they unintentionally spew transphobic bullshit. That's kind of what you're doing now.

Asexuality and aromanticism is, as you said, about attraction, but that's all it is; attraction. It's that yearning or hunger for that specific thing. This does not preclude aromantics from participating in pseudo-romantic relationships or actions of various kinds, or asexuals from sexual relationships. Sexuality is not synonymous with libido or hedonism, romance is not synonymous with intimacy or companionship. There are lots of sex-positive asexuals who are some of the horniest motherfuckers in the world; they just don't feel attraction. Similarly there are aromantic people who want the reliable closeness of a romantic partner just without the lovey dovey stuff, and may even act in ways that can be perceived as romantic from a platonic standpoint. And the mesh point non-sexual non-romantic aroace committed relationships is a queerplatonic relationship. It's kind of like "best friend" but more committed and takes many forms.

Also presuming we need to be sheltered, that we're all sex-repulsed and romance-repulsed and should be protected from such things, is a little infantilizing. I'd love more media without sexual implications, and I know aros who are beyond sick of all media being about romance. But we live in this world every day. Personally, I'm infantilized enough as a small transmasc. I appreciate the intent, but your methodology is flawed.

Now to the Radoapple of it all.

You're commenting on a fandom you aren't in and know nothing about. You weren't even sure how to spell the character's name. That's not a good starting point.

Alastor is NOT canonically aromantic, though that's a common headcanon. He IS asexual, but as mentioned, it is a spectrum, and he's only shown blatant repulsion to he topic in regards to a character who is hypersexual, which could make even allos uncomfortable. The creator has given shippers her blessing to do what they will, so there's no issue there. And for the "strongest" shippers, even her disapproval wouldn't have stopped them. How often do you see straight characters made gay and gay characters made straight in fandom for the sake of a ship? That's ignoring canon characterization AND it's bi erasure and it's common as fuck and that drives me nuts but I'm getting side-tracked.

Alastor shippers are often very respectful of Alastor's identity. Some of the most common ao3 tags for Alastor are "Non-Sex Repulsed Asexual Alastor" and "Sex Repulsed Asexual Alastor". People come at his sexuality from both sides.

Radioapple in particular is one of the healthiest ships Alastor is put in, in large part because everyone is in Hell and his other big ships have a History behind them.

There's also just who Lucifer is as a person. He may b contentious with Alastor (I'll get to it) but on the whole, Lucifer is very sweet. He adores his daughter more than anything. He very blatantly misses his ex-wife who has been absent for at least 7 years. And we could all but guarantee that if he were to somehow date Alastor, if he said no sex ever, Lucifer would accept that. Partly because he's been alone without his wife for who knows how long so it's nothing new, but also how he won Lilith over in the first place.

Lilith left Adam because he demanded she be subservient. In mythology this is often boiled down to he insisted on "topping" and she refused to "bottom". She's a proud woman and would not be under anyone's control. But she met and fell in love with Lucifer soon after, so you can imagine what that may imply about him. At the very least, he showed Lilith respect and didn't make demands of her. He knows how to respect someone's boundaries. (where also, notably, Alastor's other common ship partners canonically don't. No shame on those who ship them, just making a point)

Alastor and Lucifer met on screen, and sparks flew. Literally. They were firing shots at each other. It was mostly verbal with magical flourish for visual, but it was also the first time in the series Alastor was less than composed. He'd had one big on-screen confrontation and a few small ones before that and he never lost his head or so much as swore. He said "fuck you" to the devil's face less than 5 mins into meeting him. And they got very in each other's faces. People were going to ship them.

So, this? This is why they're shipped.

On top of this, lot of fledgling aros and aces explore their identities through Alastor and shipping him in whatever ways they like. And it's fan work not official work, so where's the harm in self-exploration? A lot of even some of the nastier fanfiction is people processing trauma, which is healthy and can help those who find it too. The existence of "bad" fan work is 9 times out of 10 a good thing.

But I'm guessing you aren't so much reading as seeing drawings, but here's the thing about that: unless it's a comic, a picture is a single moment. You don't have context of the artist's perspective on his identity unless it's right there in the color palette or there's a straight up flag. You don't know if the artist respects Alastor's sexuality or not. You don't know if, hey, they find his design appealing and wanted to mess with it. At a glance you can't know. And assuming the worst, that all these artists are aphobic, is not good for you, them, or us.

Try not to jump to conclusions just because you saw a suggestive drawing.

I know this was a lot, but I hope this helps you.

not aro or ace, but whenever I see radioapple in particular, like Lucifer/Alastar or something, I forgot bro's name.

I get so fucking pissed, because it's SO popular, but I'm pretty sure Alastar is aroace and everyone keeps on excusing it on the 'aces can feel sexual attraction too' or something for aros and I just.

YEAH. Yeah I agree. I might not know the concept personally, but yeah.

But to me at least, it's never been the point of being aroace???? the, well the centre of it?????

like, to me being aroace is not feeling romantic attraction/sexual attraction

or being on the spectrum of something like that.

tbh it's a bit easier to understand the spectrum if you think it's kinda like the nonbinary spectrum.

I'm a demigirl, I can safely say I fall under that.

So....maybe ?? It's like that for aroaces too? ...sorta?

I just feel like everyone keeps on dismissing the aroace thing, just to focus on their fantasies.

Like.

I don't know following my previous thought, I see Alastor (ohhhh) kinda like Paintbrush (II)

I might not understand much, but Paintbrush is nonbinary they/them

being nonbinary is a spectrum, but their identity in particular is also the clear 100% of what you first things first think a nonbinary person is. the pinnacle, the top of a mountain.

kinda like non-diluted alcohol.

the (1)

To me Alastor has never really been stated to like ummmm....... well...... be apart of the 'Ace people can feel sexual attraction too' thing? or maybe romantic attraction for aromantics....??? I dunno

There's lots of terms tbh, arospec, acespec, I can say im nonbinary and still be a demigirl.

can acespec people say they're ace and still mean that too? bweh....

but like, yeah.

I think I always saw Alastor as like a clear no on those topics, so I've always disliked people loving to ship him....... sorryy?????????

then this sorta stuff happens irl, and I just.

feel pissed.

because it feels like weird weird weird discourse is targetted towards aro's and ace's in particular and I nfjcjcksjdcndkjd.fjcmn. if i see one more guy say weird shit about clothing being an invitation,

ugh.

[pinkopalina]

many different interpretations of batman make me happy and I love exploring what each one is like; a very serious one, a very compassionate one, a very authoritative one

but I think my favorite batman is one that's like extremely compassionate and cares about every single person he tries to save. he takes on as much pain from everyone around him as he can and tries to hide it, turn it inwards, make it his burden so no one else has to suffer. i like the idea of Batman taking a loving approach to his rogues, holding their faces gently in his hands and genuinely wanting to help them, see them get better, hurting when circumstances that created him help create more. but he's willing to take it on because he sees it as his fault, his punishment, his duty... and he takes it very seriously, because he is Gotham City, he is the night, he is justice!!! he is batman!!! and batman is his true self and it is so hard for him to be anything else but that, especially Bruce wayne

[hoshifighting]

Hello,

So I was wondering, would you be able to write something about cock-warming with Seventeen? If not OT13, then maybe just Hoshi?

This is my first time making a request and I absolutely love your writing! I look forward to seeing your new posts every time I open the app!

Thank you 😊

cock warming with seventeen

seungcheol: he’s gritting his teeth, telling you to “sit still” ina scolding tone. man is holding on for dear life, hands on your hips, fully committed to the whole “stay still” command even though he’s just as worked up. he gives you this look that says “one wrong move and it’s over”—yet he’s lowkey loving how hard it is to keep himself together. eventually, you shift just a little and he’s like, “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” ready to wreck you right then and there.

jeonghan: he’s the absolute worst tease about it. why would you choose HIM to do that? he got that little smirk, acting all unbothered, whispering about how needy you look just sitting there on him. he’ll brush his fingers over your hips, trailing them up your spine just to mess with you. every time you try to move, he’s like, “uh-uh, baby, stay still.” you know he’s having fun watching you squirm, and he’s definitely making it as drawn-out as possible.

joshua: gives you sweet little smiles while low-key dying inside. he’s got that hand on the small of your back, running his fingers there just to keep you close. he’ll whisper all these sweet nothings, telling you how “perfect” you are, and every time you clench or move a little, he shudders, just waiting for the second he can actually move.

junhui: oh, he’s got no patience. he’s sitting there, already hard as hell, and you’re making it worse with every tiny shift. he laughs it off, biting his lip, telling you you’re “gonna regret testing him.” jun’s the type to nudge your hips a little, just to get a reaction, muttering stuff like, “if you keep doing that, don’t blame me for what happens.” he’s a mess and doesn’t even last.

hoshi: he’s like, “why did we even think this was a good idea?” wiggling around, not even pretending to keep still. every little movement makes him lose it just a bit more, and he’s already breathing heavy, wet as fuck. you both know he’s absolutely hopeless at staying still, but the boy’s trying, just loving the fact that you’re driving him up the wall.

wonwoo: he’s calm on the outside, hands steady on your hips, acting like it’s all fine and dandy, but you can feel that bro is almost melting in that game chair. every time you move, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, giving you these intense, dark-eyed looks like, “don’t test me.” he’ll stay like that as long as he can, but little to go snapping.

woozi: this man is a brick wall, hands locked around your waist, practically daring you to move. he’s got a total death grip on his self-control but gives himself away every time he swallows hard or clenches his jaw. determined to make you stay still until he’s ready.

minghao: so de-stressed, it’s unreal. he’s got his hands tracing gentle circles on your back, just enjoying the closeness but totally into it. every time you shift, he just hums, getting more and more fired up. you can tell he’s feeling it, breathing deeper, pressing you closer, but he’ll still try to play it off. he’s in no rush but is totally giving in soon.

mingyu: man’s a mess, plain and simple. he’s holding onto your hips with his nails almsot, wide-eyed and flustered as hell. he tries to be the big and strong boyy he is, but every little move makes him gulp, giving you these desperate, needy looks. probably ends up blurting, about how much he needs to fuck you.

seokmin: so flustered, you’d think it’s his first time. he’s trying to stay calm, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you in place, but he can’t help it; every time you shift, he’s turning red, letting out little gasps, unable to keep himself from reacting. he’s all, “oh my god, please, just—stay still!”

seungkwan: so worked up, it’s ridiculous. he’s like, “this was the worst idea ever babe!” but his hands are glued to you, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. he’s torn between panic and total enjoyment, all red-faced and muttering how he’s “seriously trying here.” you can tell he’s struggling, giving you little pleading looks.

vernon: silent but done for. he’ll just sit there, eyes wide, hardly breathing as he holds onto you, doing his best to stay in control but you can see the struggle. every little movement you make has him gripping your hips harder, like he’s hanging on by a thread. probably mutters, “you’re evil,” under his breath, fully aware he’s about to cum like this.

chan: incredibly sweet, probably nervous but also very into it. he’ll laugh softly, maybe trying to make small talk just to keep both of you calm, but the longer you stay like that, the more it drives him crazy. he’ll whisper, asking if you’re okay, gently reminding you to stay still but clearly enjoying when you clench or ride him a bit, especially when you both start to give in a little. BUUUUUT—he waits for you to break first.

[beiasluv]

— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2

a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀

yourinsta

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yourinsta call me pitbull cuz I’m mr worldwide 🤫 (+🇦🇺🇪🇸🇲🇨🇺🇸)

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landonorris coppiers

yourinsta you’re my og 🫶

landonorris just og? 😔

username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg

username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?

username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅

username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando 😩

— oscar piastri

Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.

“So, what’s your type?”

“My girlfriend?”

“Tell her she’s mine too.”

“WOw, will do.”

Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.

“I mean– I have three sisters so…”

“That’s a green flag.”

“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”

“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”

“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”

“That’s a red flag.”

“Sorry?” cheeky.

The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.

“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.

“Yeah.”

“You drive for a living?”

“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”

“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”

“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”

“Lovely.”

— carlos sainz

Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.

“Smooth operator, you like that song?”

“Everyone favorite song no?”

“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”

“Really? Tell me one.”

“The one from fast and furious.”

“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”

“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”

“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”

“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”

“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”

“Make sense.”

Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.

“So you’re still looking for job next year?”

“Huh?”

“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”

“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”

“I’m a pretty busy girl..”

“Really? How busy?”

“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”

“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”

“A Ferrari driver.”

“Sure.”

— charles leclerc

Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.

“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“How do you pronounce your last name?”

“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”

“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”

“I– yeah?”

“What?”

His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.

“Do you think you are a committed person?”

“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”

“I could tell.”

“Really? How?”

“Your contract with Ferrari.”

— logan sargeant

He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.

“What’s your ideal date?”

“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”

“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”

“This one.”

“That’s not an option.”

Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.

“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.

“So you don’t do researches.”

“I am now.”

“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”

“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.

“I’m not into fishy things.”

“Just boat rides?”

“I could do that.”

Coke break.

“Your thoughts on frat boys?”

“They’re fine,” he shrugged.

“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”

“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”

“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”

“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”

“You being better looking than One Direction?”

tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩

– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3

Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[choerypetal]

Reunited Once Again / Viktor (Arcane)

summary: After Viktor’s supposed death, it wasn’t you who unearthed the truth—it was Jayce. He delivered the news, the air between you still charged with the remnants of last night’s heated argument. Despite your unwavering commitment as Viktor’s assistant, it was you who found him first, solidifying his discovery with a final decision. For Viktor to keep you all to himself.

**Arcane s2!Viktor**

P.S. English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any spelling errors or small syntax mistakes. enjoy!

Viktor’s gaze lingered, unwavering, tracking your every movement. There was an intensity in his stare, not of malice but of captivation—a fascination he could neither name nor fully understand. To him, you were an enigma, a creature of such exquisite beauty it bordered on the unreal. How could someone so... human stand before him with such poise? Such life? The thought consumed him, each detail of your presence embedding itself in his mind. After all, he wasn’t called a miracle worker for nothing.

But you knew the truth, didn’t you? The whispers in Piltover Academy had already reached your ears. Rumors spread like wildfire, some so vile they left a bitter taste in your mouth. Stories of a horrific accident, of Viktor’s untimely death—tales steeped in tragedy and finality. You had believed them too, hadn’t you? Who wouldn’t, when all evidence pointed to his demise? Yet here he was, standing before you. Alive. Or something close to it.

“Красавица,” he murmured, the word soft but piercing. 

The sound of his voice made you flinch. It was Viktor’s voice—undeniably his. But it carried a weight it hadn’t before. Dull, melancholic, almost distant. Was it a compliment? Or something else entirely? You couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know. His sudden boldness, the rawness of the word, left you reeling. 

Красавица.  

A beauty.  

The way he said it wasn’t casual or fleeting; it was deliberate, almost reverent. He didn’t shy away from the truth in his words, nor did he seem burdened by shame or hesitation. This was Viktor—a man unafraid to speak what he saw. And yet, there was something different about him now. Something fractured. His voice carried more than admiration; it carried guilt, an emotion he rarely wore so openly.  

Meeting you here, especially after the argument you’d had back in the lab, wasn’t easy for him. The memory of your heated exchange still lingered, unresolved and heavy. He hadn’t said what he truly felt then, hadn’t had the chance to admit how deeply he cared. How much he loved you. Even now, with you standing before him, the words felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of unspoken regret.

“Моя Красота,” he said again, softer this time. My beauty.

The phrase stirred something in you, though you refused to let it show. You tried to convince yourself this wasn’t real—that he wasn’t real. After what Jayce had told you, how could this Viktor be the same man you’d known? The same man who had once worked tirelessly beside you in the lab? The Viktor before you was both familiar and foreign, a perfect replica yet fundamentally different. 

Still, his presence was undeniable. His voice, the same one that had soothed you through countless sleepless nights at the lab, felt achingly familiar. Back then, you had cared for him, ensuring he ate, rested, and took care of himself amidst his relentless drive. Now, the roles were reversed. It was you who needed care.  

But could you accept it from him? Could you accept that this Viktor, no matter how real he seemed, was a shadow of the man you once knew?

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hey love. Could I please request some dad!Carlos, where he is super protective in front of the media but a huge softie in reality. Like playing dolls and princess with his darling.

Thank you🥹🥰

Carlos' little princess

The early morning light bathed the Spanish villa in soft hues of gold as Carlos gently lifted his four-year-old daughter, Yn, into his arms. She clung to her Papá sleepily, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck as she nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder. Today was a big day—race weekend had arrived, and while Rebecca couldn’t make it due to a modeling commitment, Carlos had insisted that Yn come along. He couldn't imagine a weekend without his little princess by his side.

“Are you excited, mi princesa?” he asked softly, smoothing back her unruly curls as he carried her to the car.

Yn yawned, rubbing her eyes before nodding. “Will I see tío Lando?” she asked sleepily.

Carlos chuckled. “Sí, mi amor. You’ll see tío Lando, and many more of Papá’s friends.”

With Yn safely buckled into her car seat, they set off for the track. Carlos glanced at her through the rearview mirror, smiling as she played with her stuffed unicorn, one of her favorite toys. The drive was peaceful, filled with the occasional question from Yn about the race, who would be there, and most importantly, whether there would be snacks.

When they arrived at the paddock, the media was already present, cameras clicking as soon as Carlos stepped out of the car. He wasted no time unbuckling Yn and lifting her into his arms, holding her protectively close.

“Papá, so many people!” she whispered, clutching his shirt.

Carlos pressed a reassuring kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry, princesa. They just want to take some pictures, but they won’t come too close.”

The photographers kept their respectful distance, capturing the heartwarming sight of the usually intense driver cradling his daughter with so much tenderness. Unbothered, Yn buried her face in his shoulder, sighing contentedly as he carried her into the paddock.

Inside, the Williams team had set up a small play area for Yn. Carlos trusted their staff, and since they had a few younger mechanics who loved kids, he felt comfortable letting her play while he handled his team duties.

“Now, princesa, you be good and listen to tío Alex and the others, okay?” Carlos crouched down to her level, making sure she understood.

Yn nodded enthusiastically. “Sí, Papá! I will!” Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Can I have ice cream later?”

Carlos laughed. “We’ll see. Only if you eat all your lunch, okay?”

With that deal struck, Yn happily went off to play, leaving Carlos to focus on his meetings and practice sessions. Still, his gaze often flickered towards her play area, making sure she was happy and safe.

During lunch, Yn sat on his lap, her little hands holding a small sandwich as she ate. “Papá, you drive so fast,” she said between bites.

“Of course, mi amor,” Carlos grinned, tapping her nose. “That’s my job!”

She giggled, kicking her tiny feet. “I like it when you go vroooom!”

After lunch, Yn tugged on his sleeve insistently. “Papá, play dolls with me!”

Carlos raised a brow. “Right now? But Papá has to prepare for the race.”

Yn pouted, her big brown eyes widening in that irresistible way only a child could master. “But only you play dolls right, Papá!”

With a dramatic sigh, Carlos gave in. “Okay, okay. But only for a little while.”

What he didn’t expect was the media capturing the whole moment.

There he was, one of the fiercest competitors on the grid, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the hospitality suite, holding a tiny plastic doll in his large, calloused hands. Yn, looking completely in her element, was instructing him on how the princess should be dressed for her royal ball.

“No, Papá! She needs the pink dress, not the blue one!” she said, her tone exasperated but affectionate.

“Oh, lo siento, princesa,” Carlos said, barely containing his laughter. He swapped out the dresses, following her lead.

The sight was nothing short of adorable. The cameras outside the hospitality suite snapped pictures through the windows, capturing the moment a world-class driver played dolls with his daughter, occasionally kissing her cheek and making her burst into giggles.

Meanwhile, in the paddock, Lando, Charles, and Alex had spotted the scene and were watching with amused grins.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Lando whispered. “Carlos playing with dolls.”

Charles smirked. “He’s completely wrapped around her little finger.”

Alex chuckled. “Honestly? It’s adorable.”

Inside, Carlos finally put the doll down, stretching his arms. “Okay, princesa, now Papá really has to work.”

Yn huffed dramatically. “Fine. But we play more later!”

He scooped her up into his arms, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “Deal.”

That evening, as he got ready for his qualifying session, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw his little girl cheering him on from the sidelines, waving enthusiastically.

Carlos may have been a racing driver, but first and foremost, he was a father. And nothing, not even a championship title, could compare to the love he had for his little Yn.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: hey guys. I hope you enjoy me first story. My requests are open for everybody!

-💙🦋

[onlygarden]

[it's all on me] - yang jungwon

genre: angst

description: after making a habit of coming home late, jungwon aims to hurt you with his words once you confront him. his words cause insecurity to brew in your mind.

a/n: i haven't written a fic in 83 years :0 thank you for being so patient with me i really don't mean to keep anyone waiting. to the anon who requested an angst fic about insecurities (about a month ago hehe...) i hope this lives up to your expectations and i'm so so so so sorry that it took me ages i'm not always this lazy i promise!!!! anyways, thank you for being so patient and i hope you thoroughly enjoy it : ]

the relentless reminder of your boyfriend’s absence has visited your troubled mind an unsettling amount in recent hours. you check the time on your phone once again, the movement becoming almost instinctual; it was as if your muscles committed the movement to memory due to the amount of times you’ve been left to worry about jungwon’s whereabouts. 

it was 12:03. 

you sigh, your eyes beginning to feel burnt out from their endless consumption of the glow from the television. the television’s harsh brightness kept your eyes open, but the growing intensity of the concern you held for your boyfriend is what kept your body rigid and alert. 

‘see you at nine, baby. i love you.’ 

three hours later, your mind still forces you to revisit that lie. as the hours passed, it was all you could do to abuse your nerves with the countless, dreadful justifications for jungwon’s failure to arrive home at his promised time. ‘maybe he’s overworking himself, why can’t he at least text me? maybe his phone is dead, maybe he’s gotten in an accident..’

your heart jumps with a cruel mixture of fear, excitement, relief, and anxiety as the sound of the front door unlocking travels to your ears. jungwon steps into the house, and despite his late arrival, his body doesn’t give way to any signs of exhaustion. in fact, as you take in his appearance, you notice that he looks strangely content, almost energized. 

“hey, baby. why are you still up? it’s late,” jungwon simply says. 

why are you up? no explanation, no hint of sympathy, no apology for making you worry. just a casual look and an equally casual question, as if he isn’t three hours late. as if he hasn’t ignited every wrinkle in your brain with a plague of anxiety and distress. 

you take a deep breath, answering jungwon’s tactless question. “jungwon, what happened? you said you’d be home at nine. i was worried about you…” 

although your mind is a pool of distress, swirling with words born from your overflow of emotions, you leave it there, waiting for jungwon’s response. 

as if he was offended you even asked, and as if he wanted to dismiss your concerns entirely, he allows a sigh to drift from his lips. with no attempts to conceal it, jungwon paints the evidence of his irritation all over his face. 

“i met with a friend after practice. what’s the big deal?” he responds sharply, his distaste for this conversation already showing itself proudly. 

the displeasure flowing from him causes your brows to furrow. “why are you getting so irritated? you think i don’t have a right to be concerned after you come home three hours late?” 

jungwon sighs again, slipping his shoes off. you continue. 

“so you were with a friend. you could’ve at least called me, jungwon! even a simple text would’ve been better than just leaving me to worry!” 

your attempts to relay your perspective to him seem to only drive him further into a state of irritation. your hopes for even a shred of sympathy from him begin to shatter helplessly. your hopes for a response along the lines of ‘i’m sorry, baby. i hate to make you feel that way’ are brutally snatched away from you, too. 

jungwon steps closer to where you sit on the couch, his annoyance starting to burn through his skin. “i never asked you to worry about me, (y/n)!  fuck, do you need to know what i’m doing every goddamn second? you whine so fucking much, it’s ridiculous.” 

you stand up from the couch now, your frustration with his persistence to be so inconsiderate beginning to drive you. “are you fucking kidding me? don’t give me that. you think i’m ‘whining’ because i wanted to know what you’ve been doing for the past three hours? which friend were you with, anyway?”

jungwon’s face darkens, his body growing tense as you toss the question at him. “you don’t- you don’t know her,” he says, his voice quieter than before.

her? you look at him incredulously, the emotions building so quickly inside of you that you hardly have the time to identify them, and processing them is a separate battle entirely. 

“what? you spent three hours with some girl i don’t know, and you didn’t even tell me about it? you had me waiting here, worrying about you, while you were happy as ever with another girl?” 

anger flashes over jungwon’s expression at your words, and he steps even closer to you, speaking in a raised tone. 

“yea, i was! don’t pretend like you’re the only victim, (y/n). do you ever think about how i feel, having to spend everyday with you?”

your expression crumbles as the last sentence dances from his lips. the force of his words settles upon you, your chest blooming a pain that seems to immobilize you. 

“what?” your voice trembles slightly as you utter the word, the volume of your voice lowering drastically. 

although he notices your distress, the anger burning within him does not die out. “what?” he remarks with force, “i needed a break. you’re too much, and everytime i look at you, it just reminds me of how i wish i had so much better.” 

the tears spring fiercely to your eyes, and you cannot even begin to will yourself to hold them in. 

“if you need better, then go find it jungwon,” the tears begin to stream down your face, and you walk past jungwon towards the direction of your bedroom. 

jungwon’s eyes widen as the shock from your reaction sets in. his anger tames, long forgotten as desperation and regret wash any trace of it away. god, he hopes he’s not too late.

“wait, baby…” 

jungwon hastily approaches your retreating figure, reaching out to wrap his hand around your arm gently. you turn to face him, and jungwon’s heart aches as he takes in your pained expression, coupled with the tears falling rapidly from your eyes.

“you’re… you’re my everything. please, baby… i didn’t mean it like that. i’m sorry, baby, i didn’t mean-” 

you interrupt him before he can insist again that he didn’t mean it, as if those words alone are nearly enough to soothe the heartache he caused within you. 

“then what did you mean, jungwon? what exactly did you mean to say?” the tears continue to fall, your voice straining with the effort to speak past them.

jungwon sighs, the pain laced within it starkly contrasting his sigh from earlier. his tone is soft, almost pleading as his eyes peer deeper into yours. “baby, i… i just needed something different. i wanted… a change. i started talking to her, and she was just… so cute, and- and interesting...”

you pull your arm away from his gentle grasp, staring up at him, disbelief scattered across your features. “jungwon, how would you feel if i said the same thing? if i spent three hours with some guy, and i told you exactly what you just told me, how would you feel?” 

realization crashes onto jungwon. as the words reach his ears, his body fills with regret, and the guilt in his facial expression further proves the magnitude of it. 

“god, baby… i’m so sorry. i never wanted to make you feel this way. i promise you, you’re the most important, most beautiful woman in my life. i love you so much… you’re all i need… all i’ll ever need.” 

his words, and the unbridled sincerity behind them, start to mend the frayed emotions within you, but a few threads of doubt tangle with your inclination to forgive him. 

“jungwon, i love you too. i love you more than anything. i just don’t understand… why would you need something different? am i not-”

am i not enough for you? this time, jungwon cuts you off before the words can escape you. 

“baby, please… don’t ever say that. you’re more than enough for me. you’re so beautiful, and perfect… i’m just stupid for ever making you doubt that. so, so stupid.”  

he pulls you towards him, enveloping your body in a warm, desperate embrace. the urgent desire to comfort you, to absorb the pain he bestowed onto you, radiated from jungwon’s body plentifully. still, his touch was delicate enough to avoid breaching the fragility of situation. 

your tears soak his shirt, forcing the fabric to absorb their boundless downpour. the pressure on jungwon’s heart tightens, the relentless squeeze of sorrow, remorse, and agony becoming nearly unbearable. he loves you so much, he’s absolutely delighted by every aspect of you, how could he have ever been so foolish to smear the conviction behind those words? jungwon continues to hold and shush you gently, his hands gently gliding along your back, attempting to remind you of the ferocity of his devotion to you through more than just words.

[malwaredykes]

well. here she is. miss Leigh Stasik.

trans woman. stubborn, incorrigible, eccentric. communist; she has leftist in-fighting with herself on the regular. a cannibal; she has no moral qualms about this, and its both a bit of a spiritual thing and a bit of a pragmatic thing. medic (not a doctor. no medical license). she knows for sure she had some kind of significant personality change from being shot in the head, but she doesn't remember what she was like exactly before it happened, it all became this kind of distant memory soup. shes originally from west new cali, but she grew very attached to the mojave. and has a lot of contempt for the ncr. She Will Serve Crack Before She Serves This Country. thank god the army discriminates against transsexuals etc. zero tolerance for the legion, obviously.

she firmly believes she is not nice, or kind, or compassionate, but instead her actions and her general sense of justice stem from her simply doing whats the most logical and objectively beneficial. it may be true to some extent, but she might also have a wee bit of ocd of the "i am a horrible person whos at all times like 2 seconds away from committing atrocities" variety.

shes a SCIENTIST. unofficially. she doesnt have a degree nor a chosen field of study. she makes her own hrt and other mysterious concoctions, including designer chems. which she claims she ingests injects etc not for recreational purposes, but to Enhance Her Powers And Possibilities. she reads old world books about psychology so she can manipulate people better. and makes weird contraptions and doohickeys while high. shes a HACKER of course and hacks terminals and systems for fun and just to see if she can.

her stats are out there due to implants and intense training, originally they were rather average. in-game she wears combat armor mk 2, but i see her having spruced it up like this. her main weapon is the ycs/186, the unique gauss rifle, but before that she used a modded plasma pistol. which she very much enjoyed the silly appearance of. because it was so small and with so much shit tacked on and she could just hold it in one hand like a mutated revolver like Hands up motherfucker bang bang bang lol. her melee weapon of choice is the machete gladius, but she's been training to be able to wield a thermic lance.

in my head the trajectory of her actions and the fate of the mojave that follows is different from what you can do with the game, because leigh could only go for The Secret Leftist Route Which Was Supposed To Be In The Game But We Were Robbed Of It.

boone was the first friend she made after leaving goodsprings and their relationship is particularly notable. they are Comrades, Siblings-In-Arms, Worsties (like besties but fucked up). theyve seen each other at their worst. they annoy each other on purpose. theyve had serious ideological clashes with each other and some ways in which boone perceives the world drive leigh absolutely nuts. they're ride or die for each other. theyre the kind of comfortable around each other where she'll be on the toilet and smoking a cig with the door open and talking to him, while he's naked sitting on the floor removing stitches from his leg. she's done surgery without anesthesia on him. he's projectile vomited blood on her from being poisoned by cazadores. she strongly encourages him to become a traitor to the ncr and to take part in the revolution and the formation of the new independent mojave alliance. somehow, it works on him in the end. shamefully they kinda like snuggling... boone bro come to bed man its nighty night man its beddy bye time.

shes in love with lily bowen. i havent decided yet whether she actually makes a move. but she thinks lily is sooooo dreamy. and shes right. if you dont think the enormous 203 year old blue mutant woman is dreamy thats your problem. outta her way

[luneengene2]

Enhypen Hyung Line's Favorite Place to Make Love

~ NSFW Content! || Grammar error

• Heeseung || Studio

Heeseung is the ACE in his group. His time could be spent in a recording studio or music studio, whether for vocal practice or writing songs. When he 'needs' but is too lazy to meet you, he will call you to the studio. The crazy things he can do, like when he's doing vocal practice (Of course it's just him and you in the studio) and you're underneath him sucking his cock. Give himself a challenge that he can focus on his vocals even if you give him distractions. Bro, sucking him during vocal practice doesn't make him less focused, he's an ACE. In fact, you feel neglected because he only focuses on his vocals, not you who are giving him satisfaction.

• Jay || Car

I feel like Jay is the type who likes to take his girlfriend around Seoul or one of the cities in America in his luxury car. Jay is the type who can suddenly become aroused while driving, especially if he sees your breasts bouncing while passing speed bumps👀. He will take his car to a quiet place, like on the edge of a cliff. Make love to him in his car until you are both satisfied. Or he fingering you while he driving until you squirt enough to give him satisfaction. Oh don't forget the time you sucked his cock while he was focused on driving, Jay can handle that.

• Jake || Library

I saw that Jake was a very intelligent member, he even liked numeracy subjects like chemistry and physics (?). The library could be his favorite place, whether it's for studying or for committing 'sin' with you. He will fuck you in the corner of the library with the high shelves, covering your mouth so you don't moan, but with irregular movements. Just like Jay, he will finger your pussy while you sit next to him, but he can stay focused on reading a book. When you squirt with a low moan so as not to be 'caught' by the librarian, Jake will smile with satisfaction. Sucking on his finger which is filled with your juices then acting as if nothing happened.

• Sunghoon || Bedroom

Sunghoon? I see him as someone who doesn't like making love in public places, he likes intense privacy. He doesn't even want to see you glanced at by any man, because you only belong to him. So, chances are he prefers to make love in the bedroom, especially in his own room. He will treat you like a princess in bed, kissing you lovingly in between your hot sessions in his room. Or if he wants to go brutal mode, he'll take you to his dressing table, making you look in the mirror while he fucks you. His room will be locked tightly if he is making love to you, because he doesn't want to be caught red-handed.

[sunshineangel0]

-late night adrenaline.. ☾

pairing– han jisung x reader summary– after a suffocating day, the walls start closing in, and you need an out. so, naturally, you show up at jisung’s doorstep in the middle of the night, throwing your car keys at him. fast cars. empty roads. music so loud it rattles through your bones. it’s supposed to help, supposed to clear your head. but nothing—not the speed, not the wind whipping past—drowns out the fact that jisung sees right through you. genre– friends to lovers, slow burn, high tension, late night recklessness word count– 2.5k warnings– mentions of stress/overwhelm, dangerous levels of tension, reckless driving, suppressed feelings finally snapping, intense first kiss, mutual pining, jisung being unfairly attractive while behind the wheel. a/n- so. i wrote this yesterday evening after a fight with my boyfrined so it may be a litle angsty (sorry). hope you enjoy it anyways babes. also, i accidentally published this on the wrong acc, so here is take number two.

It’s one of those nights—an unbearable weight of stress compresses against your chest, squeezing your ribs until breathing feels like a challenge. The walls of your apartment seem to inch closer, threatening to swallow you whole, while your thoughts clamor noisily in your head, refusing to quiet down. Restlessness buzzes beneath your skin, making it impossible to stay put.

You don’t even know where to start.

It’s everything. All at once.

You're drowning in work, deadlines looming ominously, the weight of responsibility pressing down like an unyielding vice. Each task you complete seems to multiply into three more, a relentless cycle that leaves you questioning if you'll ever catch up. No matter how hard you push yourself, it's never quite enough.

Then there's your personal life—an entangled mess you can't quite face. Texts go unanswered, calls are ignored, plans canceled because the thought of dealing with people feels insurmountable. Everyone seems to want something from you, pulling you apart in every direction, leaving you utterly exhausted.

And then there's Han.

Han, your best friend, the one you've secretly loved for five long years. Han, who never demands but somehow intensifies your turmoil just by being there—those dark, knowing eyes seeming to peer into your very soul, hearing what you never dare to say. Han, who dates other girls but never really commits, leaving you in a limbo of hope and despair. Han, who treats you like you're something more but never takes that crucial step.

You're caught in a whirlwind of exhaustion and restlessness, feeling on the brink of breaking apart. The thought of staying still for even a moment longer is unbearable, yet moving forward seems just as impossible. You're torn, unsure if confronting these feelings will bring relief or only deepen the chaos.

So you do the only thing you can think of.

You grab your keys and go.

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself standing at Jisung's doorstep, your heart hammering violently against your ribs as your knuckles strike the solid wood with a desperate urgency, defying the screaming impulse to flee. The door bursts open, and there stands Jisung, blinking in bewilderment, his expression an electrifying blend of confusion and intrigue as he absorbs your chaotic state—hair whipped into a frenzy by the wind, eyes blazing with intensity. Without uttering a single word, you hurl your car keys toward him with a flick of your wrist, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension.

He arches an eyebrow but catches them effortlessly, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “Uh… hello to you too?” he says, a hint of amusement tinged with concern in his voice.

“No talking. Just get in,” you demand, your voice edged with urgency and an undercurrent of something raw and restless, like a storm about to break. It sends a shiver down his spine, an electric charge in the air.

For a second, he hesitates, his eyes lingering on your tense figure. Not because he doesn’t want to follow—he always does—but because he can almost see the crackling energy swirling around you like a brewing storm. Your fingers twitch restlessly at your sides, like a coiled spring ready to snap, as if you're on the verge of punching something or bolting out the door. Jisung exhales sharply, the sound slicing through the charged air, then he snatches his hoodie from the couch and trails after you without another word.

The cityscape blurs by in a muted rush as you speed along the highway. The usual city noise is subdued, reduced to a low hum as streetlights streak past like scattered stars, casting brief, glowing halos through the car windows. Jisung grips the steering wheel firmly, his knuckles pale in the dim glow, driving with his signature style—quick and efficient, yet with a touch of caution. Normally, he's in control, but tonight there's a different energy in the air.

The car's speakers thrum with heavy bass, each beat pulsing through the seats, merging with the thunderous growl of the engine. It creates a cocoon of sound that isolates you both from the world outside, intensifying the charged atmosphere inside the vehicle. The faint scent of leather mingles with the crisp night air that sneaks in through the slightly open windows, carrying a hint of something almost smoldering, like the promise of something about to ignite.

"Drive faster," you urge, your voice barely cutting through the blaring music

. Jisung casts a quick glance at you, his jaw set. "Y/N, I'm already pushing almost 100 miles per hour,"

he snaps, his tone fraught with urgency. But you fire back instantly, your words sharp and impatient, "Clearly, it's not enough."

“Y/N, for God's sake, what’s going on? What the hell happened?” H

His voice quivers with raw concern as his knuckles turn white, gripping the steering wheel with a desperate intensity.

“I’m fine,” you murmur, your eyes fixed on the blur of landscape racing by, your voice a ghostly whisper.

“No, you’re not,” he presses, his brow furrowed and his eyes wide, filled with alarm. “You just told me to go faster when we’re already tearing through the speed limit. Are you trying to get us killed?”

"I'm fine, Jisung. I just need to clear my head, that's all," you insist, your voice strained, struggling to sound convincing.

Jisung’s gaze remains locked on you, worry etched deep into his features. "Tell me what’s wrong, or I’m pulling over," he demands, his voice a mix of firmness and gentle resolve.

You feel the tension in your body as your fingers curl tighter around the worn fabric of your jeans. You turn your head slowly to look at him. The streetlights whip past, casting sharp, fleeting shadows across his face. You can see the way his jaw is set, the hard line of his determination. His knuckles are white, gripping the steering wheel with a force that betrays his worry.

"Keep driving," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a while, he obliges. The car speeds down the highway, the engine humming beneath the loud, rhythmic thump of the music that fills the space between you. It’s a familiar escape—driving too fast, the music too loud, pretending the weight of your thoughts is just a whisper in the wind. But eventually, the car slows, and Jisung pulls over onto the gravel shoulder, the tires crunching softly beneath you. The engine idles quietly, and the night air seeps in through the cracked window, cool and expectant.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just shifts the car into park with a soft click and leans back against the seat, eyes fixed on the empty stretch of asphalt ahead. The silence is suffocating, a heavy blanket smothering all other sounds. Outside, the world feels frozen in time—only the gentle hum of cicadas fills the air, and the distant, sporadic flicker of neon signs from a lonely gas station punctuates the night.

Inside the car, the tension is palpable, thick enough to make breathing a struggle. Jisung remains motionless, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as if preparing for an unseen collision. The music plays softly in the background, a faint, steady rhythm that fails to distract from the oppressive weight of the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

You can feel his gaze on you, a palpable weight that you choose to ignore. Your forehead leans against the cool, misted surface of the window, and your eyes are fixed on the dark horizon stretching beyond the highway.

But then—

"Y/N."

His voice is quiet, yet there's a sharpness to it, like a blade edge barely concealed beneath a velvet sheath. There's something raw, something unyielding in the way he says your name. You swallow hard, feeling the dryness in your throat. “What?”

Jisung lets out a sudden, frustrated breath, his hands finally loosening their tight grip on the steering wheel. He shifts in his seat, turning his body slightly towards you, determination etched into his posture. “Look at me.”

You hesitate, your fingers tracing the seam of your jeans. The seconds stretch, filled with the hum of the engine and the rhythmic thump of the tires against the road.

He waits.

When you finally muster the courage to turn, his eyes—dark and intense—are pinned to you with a force that makes your chest constrict. He looks at you as though he's peeling back every layer, seeing through every flimsy excuse, every half-hearted "I'm fine" you've ever tossed his way. His gaze says he already knows the truth, but he's patiently waiting for you to find the strength to voice it yourself.

But you can’t.

You don’t know how.

So you do what you do best. You deflect.

"You didn’t have to pull over," you murmur, shifting your gaze to the dashboard, anywhere but him. "I just needed to—"

"Needed to what?" His voice is quiet, but there’s a bite to it, something pressing, something fraying at the edges. "Race through the city like you’re running from something? Pretend like you’re fine when you’re clearly about to break?"

Your breath catches. “I don’t need you to fix me, Ji.”

His jaw tightens. “I never said I did.”

The words sit between you like an open wound, bleeding, aching.

You close your eyes for a second, inhaling deeply. The night air slips through the barely-open window, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. The words slice through the space between you, raw and aching, like an open wound that neither of you have the strength to ignore anymore.

And then Jisung shifts closer. Not much. Just enough for you to feel it. And suddenly, the space between you feels unbearably small. His presence a slow-burning fire licking at your edges. Jisungs hand lifts, hesitant at first, before his fingers ghost over yours, a barely-there touch that sends something electric racing up your spine. You freeze. His thumb brushes lightly against the back of your hand, tracing slow, aimless circles. It’s soft. It’s careful. But somehow, it feels louder than the pounding of your heart, louder than the music still humming in the background.

“Just tell me,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. "Whatever it is, I can take it."

His words wrap around your ribs, tightening. You want to tell him. You want to tell him that it’s not just the stress, not just the deadlines or the exhaustion or the way the world keeps demanding more from you. It’s him. It’s always been him. It’s the way he’s been your constant for five years, the way he’s the only person who can read you like an open book. It’s the way he looks at you—like you matter, like you belong, like you’re his even if he’s never said the words. It’s the way he’s never crossed the line, but he’s always stood so damn close to it that you’ve spent years wondering if he ever would. It’s five years of wanting, five years of aching, five years of pretending that this friendship is enough. It’s the unbearable ache of wanting him.

And suddenly, the air inside the car is too thick, too heavy.

You don’t think. You don’t second-guess. You just move.

Before either of you can process it, your hands are tangling in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Jisung barely has time to react before your lips crash into his— messy, burning, rough and desperate, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. With something neither of you are ready to name.

He makes a sound—soft, surprised—but then he’s gripping. The sound swallowed by the way he presses you closer. One hand tangles into your hair, fingers threading through the strands, tilting your head back just enough for him to deepen the kiss. The other finds your waist, curling tight, pulling you closer like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

The kiss is nothing like you imagined. It’s not soft. It’s not careful. It’s reckless—like an open flame. It’s adrenaline and burning rubber on pavement and breaking every unspoken rule. It’s five years of tension snapping in an instant, five years of stolen glances and almosts unraveling between his teeth. It’s the taste of midnight air and unspoken confessions, the kind of kiss that leaves no room for doubt.

When you finally pull away, both of you breathless and wide-eyed, the world outside feels eerily still, as if it, too, is holding its breath.

Jisung stares at you, lips parted, eyes dark and stormy. His chest rises and falls heavily, like he’s struggling to process what just happened.

And then—

Jisung exhales sharply, a breathless sound that’s half-laugh, half-disbelief. He drags a hand through his already-messy hair, his fingers tangling at the roots as if he needs something to ground himself. His lips are still parted, kiss-swollen, the ghost of your touch lingering there like an unanswered question.

"Holy shit."

Your hands remain clenched in the fabric of his hoodie, knuckles white, as if releasing him means accepting the weight of what just happened. Your pulse is a violent drum against your ribs, your lungs burning like you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

"Yeah."

The word barely escapes, a whisper carried away by the hush of the night.

Silence stretches between you, no longer suffocating but something else entirely—something that crackles, something that waits. The only sound is the steady tick of the cooling engine, the soft hum of the radio playing a song neither of you are really hearing. The air in the car has thickened, charged with something electric, something inevitable.

Jisung is staring at you, his gaze dark and unreadable, his chest rising and falling in uneven waves. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and you follow the movement, pulse jumping, skin prickling. His eyes flicker down to your mouth again—once, twice—before dragging back up, locking onto yours.

And that’s when you realize.

You don’t regret it.

Not even for a second.

His fingers twitch against his thigh, and before you can think, his hand moves—slow, tentative, yet deliberate. The rough pad of his thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tracing lazy circles, sending a shiver rippling through your entire body. It’s nothing, barely a touch—but it’s everything.

You exhale shakily, the sound catching in your throat, your grip finally loosening on his hoodie. He notices. Of course, he does.

Jisung’s lips part, his voice low, careful. “So… do we talk about this, or do I just keep driving?”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a slight waver to it—an edge of hesitation, a quiet vulnerability that tugs at something deep inside you.

Your breath hitches. Your heartbeat stumbles, then picks up again, harder, faster.

You could talk about it. You could dissect every moment, lay everything out on the table, risk everything you’ve built with him over the last five years. But the thought of breaking this fragile, raw moment terrifies you.

Instead, you bite your lip, eyes never leaving his.

"Drive," you murmur.

Then he spoke. Softer, deadlier—"But don’t you dare run from this." The smirk that tugs at his lips is slow, almost dangerous—like he knows exactly what youre about to say. Like he’s daring you to hold him to it. His fingers tighten slightly around yours, a promise, a warning, a silent challenge.

"Not a chance." you whisper.

And then, just like that, he’s moving.

The engine growls back to life, the soft rumble vibrating through your seat. Jisung’s hands find the wheel again, steady now, but his knuckles are still faintly pale, his pulse still erratic beneath his skin. The car eases back onto the highway, tires rolling smoothly over the asphalt, but the energy inside the vehicle has irrevocably changed.

The city lights blur past, neon reflections casting shifting patterns over his skin. You watch him out of the corner of your eye—the sharp angle of his jaw, the tension still coiled in his shoulders, the way his fingers tap absently against the wheel like he’s thinking, processing, feeling.

You exhale, letting your head drop back against the seat, the adrenaline still humming through your veins.

Outside, the world rushes past in a blur of midnight hues.

Inside, the two of you are no longer just running.

This time, you know exactly where you’re headed.

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

[mangosrar]

call it closure

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

long asf. smut. filth. sexy chris 😛😛😛

your relationship with chris had always been complicated, a will they wont they sort of thing. you both loved eachother, that was obvious, yes you were his, but he wasnt yours.

you both decided friends with benefits would be the best option. well for him. part of you agreed just so you could play pretend, trick yourself into thinking you had him, and you knew nothing lasted forever, but he fooled you for a while.

everyone knew chris had major commitment issues, but you just didnt understand. he treated you like the only girl ever behind closed doors, but the second anyone else was around, he would drop your hand.

you thought this would be fine, you had him, you had him to yourself and that was all that mattered. until you realised you didnt. he had you eating out the palm of his hand on complete puppet strings. he said jump and you asked how high. you had fallen down a dangerous rabbit hole, and the only way to escape was to drive a knife straight through the heart of whatever it was you and chris had.

flashback.

the house was the quietest youve ever heard it. matt and nick were out so chris had invited you over to smoke with him but you were pretty sure he had over done it because he had gone completely none verbal and just started staring at the wall. he was slouched down on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and his hands in his lap. you were too, slouched down on the couch with your knees up. he took a deep breath in before breaking the silence.

"do you think were soulmates in every universe?" he said. not moving his eyes from the spot on the wall. you could have cried right there and then, feeling a deep aching pain bloom in your chest from his words. you hated how he was so absentmindedly killing you.

there was an abundant pause and a thick tension gathered in the air, you wondered if chris could feel it too.

"are we even soulmates in this one?" your voice was so quiet and soft you weren’t sure he even heard you, until he let out a frustrated sigh before bringing a hand up to his face and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"come on y/n dont start this shit now" his voice was harsh. he kept his eyes closed waiting for you to drop it, like you did every time, but you werent sure how much longer you could carry on like this.

"what chris? im being serious, i dont even know what this is anymore, you treat me like im everything one minute and then act like you couldnt care less is i fucking live or die the next!" you let your feet fall and land on the floor as you sat up and turned to face him.

"you know thats not true" he took his hand off of his face and let it rest in the air. his eyes still closed.

"do i?" your voice was quiet and broken. this was draining. the heavy presence of the fact he wasnt truly yours was sucking the life out of you. he opened his eyes and looked at you.

"we both agreed to do this y/n you cant put all of this on me" he sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together and staring at you intensely.

there was a pregnant pause, he was waiting for you to defend yourself, or at least try to argue his point, but you couldnt, he was right, to a certain degree. yes you had both agreed to friends with benefits but you hadnt agreed to being hopelessly in love with someone who only reciprocated those feelings in the dark.

you dropped yours eyes, tearing them away from his and letting them linger on his hands before taking a deep breath in.

"i cant carry on like this, its killing me." he tried to cut you off momentarily but you held a hand up, stopping him. "i wont beg for you to love me anymore chris, because i know that somewhere deep down you really do". he said nothing as he stared at you. he was completely speechless. he felt that pain, just like you did, deep in his bones. you searched his eyes for something, anything, a sign that you were lying and just embarrassing yourself, a sign that told you he wasnt at all affected by this, any sense of doubt. you found nothing.

and with that, you left. you got up and walked out of that house, leaving chris to sit there and regret every singe life decision that had got him to this point, but he didnt come after you, he didnt try to stop you, he didnt try to change your mind and thats what stung the most.

end of flashback.

"im going to pack the car so everyone bring your bags down!" chris shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

you pulled the zipper closed on the bag before taking your phone off the bed and making your way downstairs, nick following close behind you. you didnt even look up at chris. you couldnt, you wanted to take complete advantage of the short amount of time you had left to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

it had been about 3 months since you walked out on chris, you hadnt spoke at all, he hadnt tried and neither had you, both of you just accepting fate and trying to move on, but considering the fact his two brothers were your best friends and you practically lived at their house with how much you were over, it was proving to be quite the challenge.

you just politely dropped your bag at his feet and scurried off into the kitchen, bumping into matt.

"you want me to drive the first or second half?" you asked. considering you were the only two that could drive, you insisted you would split it.

"i dont mind but, you sure you wanna have to sit next to chris for that long?" he lowered his voice slightly, his eyes darting to chris who was grabbing all the bags behind you, as his face scrunched up slightly. you glanced over your shoulder at him briefly before crossing your arms over your chest and shrugging.

"its okay, he wont talk to me anyways" you let out a pathetic laugh through your nose, trying to make the situation a little light hearted and a lot less embarrassing. matt obviously picked up on this but was kind enough to ignore it.

"ill do the first half, he will probably fall asleep by the time we swap anyway" he patted your shoulder and you nodded as he made a bee line for the front door.

matt and nick were probably the worst part of this whole situation. they were stuck smack bang in the middle of this pandemonium. of course they both knew what had happened but they gave you the courtesy of separating you and chris with you and them and decided to move past it. you and chris were both aware of how awkward it was for them, and thankfully, he was mature enough to not kick up a big fuss every time you were around. you hadnt spoken at all since that night, only the odd flash of a smile sent each others way when you crossed paths and that was rare, so when nick invited you on their weekend get away to a cabin in the middle of no where with them, you were obviously delighted.

the drive was excruciating. if it wasnt matt and nick arguing it was chriss shitty trap music playing or the gps redirecting you. while you were driving up front chris hadnt even spared you a glance, he didnt utter a single word to you the whole time.

part of you was grateful but another part of you wished he would have, selfishly, so you could just get over it and enjoy your weekend, but nothing was enjoyable anymore as long as chris was around.

"i call the double bed" chris yelled, running through the house.

"y/n theres a room with two singles, wanna bunk with me?" nick asked, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders.

"sure" you nodded, before making your way to the room, setting your bag down and plopping on the bed with a huff, matt trailed in behind you, with your suitcase.

"come on grouchy pants, were gonna have funnnn" he said swatting your leg that was dangling off the edge of the bed.

"i need at least 3-5 business days to recover from being within a 1 mile radius of chris for longer than 30 seconds" you let out a breath as you looked over to matt who was leaning on the door frame with his arms folded over his chest.

"that bad?" he raised his eyebrows in question.

"that bad" you replied flatley. matt just chuckled and motioned for you to follow him downstairs. you huffed and sat up before stomping down the hall after him.

in all fairness, it hadnt been that bad. the 4 of you had eaten, laughed played games and just had fun, regardless of the hanging tension wedged between you and chris. it was now 11:30 and everyone was asleep, but your mind just couldnt switch off, tossing and turning, checking the clock every 5 minutes. you huffed and looked over at nick who was out like a light. hot tub it is.

"i dont know madi, it just hurts" you spoke.

"has he even tried to talk to you?" she spoke over the phone.

"not one single word, and the thing is i dont know if i wanna strangle him or just kiss his fucking face off" you huffed, readjusting your arms so they were resting on the edge of the hot tub with your phone in your hands, the rest of your body being engulfed by the warm blanket of water.

"im worried my advice is gonna get you in trouble" she laughed, making you blow out a huff of air through your nose.

"it doesnt matter, i cant bring myself to do either" you and madi spoke for a little while longer beofre you wrapped the call up, put your phone on the ground and let your body sink lower into the steaming water until it was resting on your collar bones.

you sighed and let your head fall back, this is what you needed, a relaxing moment, the quiet calm of the night lulling your brain into a state of tranquillity, no matt and nick arguing, no chr-

"cant sleep?" you almost had a heart attack, your body jolted forward as your eyes darted around searching for the body that owned the voice.

"jesus, chris you scared the life out of me, how long have you been sitting there?" your hand rested on your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart from being startled. he just stared at you with drooped eyes from his position on the patio chair, opposite the hot tub.

"long enough" he said. his face didnt show any sign of emotion. his stoic expression sending an un willing chill up your spine, despite the warmth of the chlorine filled bubbles around you. chris leaned forward and you swallowed thickly.

"did you mean what you said?" his voice was alot softer and quieter than before, like he was worried you would break at the slight tone of his voice. you couldnt bring your self to look back up at him, he would eat you alive. you paused momentarily, weighing out your options of whether you even wanted to entertain this conversation with him or just cut him dead.

there was no way in hell that you were letting yourself fall back down this slippery slope again, so just like before, you abruptly got up and out of the hot tub, reached for your towel and made your way back inside, without sparing him a glance, keeping your eyes trained to the floor, leaving chris once again, to watch you walk away from him, and all the same, he didnt try to stop you.

"nick open the fucking door!" you whispered loudly. no reply.

resting your forehead against the door, you mentally cursed yourself for even going in the hot tub. you should have stayed in bed and this whole situation would be avoided, chris too. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"what are you doing?" he stood just beside you with a questioning look on his face.

you huffed, pulling your head back and looking up at him.

"nick locked the door" you sounded so defeated it made his heart beat a little harder in his chest.

"you can come sleep with me, ill take the floor i dont mind" he motioned his head towards his designated bedroom while keeping his eyes trained to yours.

you dropped your head and sighed. how was this happening. you had spent months walking on egg shells, doing everything in your power to stay as far away from him as you could, and now you were forcing him out of his bed so you could sleep there.

he stared at you waiting for your answer. he knew you had no other option, you couldnt sleep on the couch with matt and you were also stood in a wet bikini and a wet towel. be realistic y/n.

"sure, okay" you looked up at him, and his eyes gained a fraction of hope momentarily, before he nodded and started leading you to his room. this was going to be a long night.

"um, i dont.." you paused and cleared your throat. "i dont have anything to wear" chris looked up at you from his position on the bed before his eyes trailed over your body, stood in a towel in the bathroom doorway shifting on your feet, looking like a nervous little girl.

you cleared your throat again, snapping chris out of whatever trance he had gotten into. he stood up and walked over to the dresser at the end of the bed, pulling out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers, before padding over to you and handing them over.

"thanks" you smiled.

"no problem" he replied, watching you turn back into the bathroom, slamming the door in his face and leaning against it, you werent sure if this was going to work, your left control was wearing thin.

how had it ended up like this? you tried so hard to have some composure but you couldnt help it, he was shirtless, clad in grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, basically inviting you to jump straight on him.

his lips trailed down your neck as his hands ran up your sides, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his after 3 months of complete torture without it.

he brought his lips back up to meet your in a hot and heavy kiss, tongues dancing together, teeth clashing, the works. frantic hands gripping his hair relentlessly, pulling groans from his mouth.

chris brought his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and separating the kiss, before diving back in and sucking purple marks into your neck and collarbones, earning breathy whines from you.

there was a moment of hesitation from you as he trailed his hands lower fiddling with the waistband of his boxers that you were wearing.

"chris wait" he halted his movements and brought his face up to yours. god he was making this so hard. he was breathing heavy and his hair was messy from your curious hands, his chain dangling between the two of you.

"we shouldnt be doing this" you shook your head, eyes wide.

"why y/n?" he asked breathlessly.

"because chris" you whined. he knew exactly why. all your hard work of keeping your distance from him had just been thrown into a sweltering ball of gasoline and chris had completely set it alight.

"call it closure" he whispered. he could see the inner turmoil you were facing. you knew you were about to give in, and judging by the smirk growing on his face, so did he.

you pulled his face down to yours again and he hummed into the kiss, the feeling of your lips on his being something no drug could ever amount to.

he continues his trail down your body, leaving wet hot kisses in his trail, keeping his eyes glued to yours. he was dragging this out, savouring the blaze of your touch.

"chris please" you whined.

"what baby? tell me what you want" he spoke in-between leaving kisses on your stomach and thighs.

"just fuck me" that was all he needed to hear before he was yanking your shorts down and doing the same with his own pants and boxers. he was on his knees between your legs, pumping his cock in his hand, eyes wondering over your frame hungrily.

"so pretty" he muttered before brining his lips to yours again and pushing his cock into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size before he was pulling all the way out and slamming back in over and over again. you were already a mess underneath him, mewling and moaning like you would never get the chance again.

"missed you so much baby, so fucking much" chris grunted in-between thrusts before peppering light kisses down the side of your face and neck. you just whined at his words.

his pace was relentless and your hands flew to his back, dragging your nails down his skin, pulling a low "fuck" from chriss lips.

"so good to me y/n, cant believe i ever fucking let you go" he said as he stilled his thrusts and pulled back, sitting on his knees and lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders, and continuing his thrusts.

you let out a lewd moan at the new angle, hands gripping the bed sheets as chris arms wrapped around your thighs, drilling his cock into you so deep, hitting that spot inside that made you see stars.

"oh fuck chris dont stop" you mewled, letting your head fall back.

his pace became impossibly faster, every single thrust knocking the air out of your lungs.

you were pulsating around him, your high getting closer and closer. chris dropped your legs and doubled over, shoving his head into the crook of your neck with a deep groan.

"fuck y/n i can feel you squeezing me" his words were strangled and breathless. he brought his lips to yours once again but the pleasure was so good and you were so close you couldnt keep up with him, chris noticed this and smirked against your mouth.

"come on sweet girl, give it to me, come all over my cock" he said as he brought his thumb down to rub hard, fast circles over your puffy clit making your back arch even further off the bed.

you let out a strangled moan of his name before being launched into a pool of complete, white ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his thrusts did not falter as he sat up watching you ride out your orgasm with hooded eyes.

“you look so pretty like this ma”

he wasnt far behind, his hips stuttered before he let out a loud whine, followed by a hiss and a string of curses, painting your insides white, sending a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim, before collapsing on top of you.

the two of you were sweating and panting, both completely silent, just relishing in the feeling of the post sex haze. your hands come up to his hair and you ran your fingers through it soothingly.

he planted a soft kiss to your collarbone before bringing his face up so he was eye level with you. his eyes trailed over your face, creating a memory and he took a deep breath in before speaking.

"i do love you”.

_______________________________________________

YALL😛😛😛😛

sorry for starving you guys i’ve just been mad busy but i’m back !!!! love u. bee ❤️‍🩹

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @urmyslxt @soursturniolo @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @chrisfavoritepepsi @kenleighsbl0g @udonotknowme

[onlyseokmins]

babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor. 

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits. 

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement. 

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror. 

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way." 

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom. 

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."  

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum. 

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea. 

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened. 

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile. 

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal. 

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop. 

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more. 

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair. 

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only. 

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for. 

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man. 

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind. 

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt. 

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.  

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you." 

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?" 

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit." 

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home. 

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you." 

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?" 

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin. 

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp. 

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?" 

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…" 

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement. 

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before. 

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…" 

"You don't sound sorry." 

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions. 

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me." 

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white. 

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are. 

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside. 

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat. 

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure. 

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness. 

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips. 

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own. 

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too." 

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return. 

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

[callmemonster68]

ENHYPEN - Sex Positions ( smut )

Sex positions that I think are boys' favorites

Pairing: Enhypen X FemReader (Masterlist)

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands, public sex

SUNGHOON - 69 "I get so much pleasure from giving you pleasure," Sunghoon says between muffled moans, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through your body. He moves with an almost rehearsed precision, every touch and motion coordinated to maximize mutual ecstasy. Even with half-closed eyes, he catches your expression of bliss, which only fuels his desire further. "Do you have any idea how crazy this drives me?" he asks, briefly pausing to let his fingers glide across your body before diving back in, as if lost in the symbiosis of the moment.

JUNGWON - Side Position "Just like this, so close... I love it," Jungwon whispers, his warm breath against your skin as your bodies move together in a synchronized rhythm. He cups your face gently, his thumbs tracing soft circles on your cheeks. His eyes shine with intensity, and he gives you a soft smile, leaning in to murmur against your lips: "I love feeling you this close. It’s like we’re in a world of our own." He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before deepening the movements, never losing the tenderness that makes the moment so special.

NIKI - Spooning "I love how perfectly you fit right here," Niki murmurs in a low voice, almost a whisper, as the tip of his nose brushes softly against the curve of your neck. He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your bodies move in perfect harmony, the warmth of every touch wrapping the moment in a bubble of comfort. "Just like this, slow... It's just you and me, together," he adds, kissing the base of your neck tenderly, while his hands slowly explore your body, creating an unshakable sense of connection.

SUNOO - Chair "You look perfect here," Sunoo says with a teasing smile, his hands sliding slowly down your back before resting on your hips. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his fingers trace every curve of your body. "Can I feel you even more?" he asks, his voice almost a moan, as he adjusts his posture to deepen the connection between you. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, his eyes closed as if committing the sensation to memory. With slow, deliberate movements, he guides the moment toward a climax filled with passion and surrender.

JAKE - Cowgirl "Show me how you like it," Jake murmurs, leaning back as his strong hands find your waist. He watches your every movement with hungry eyes, admiring the confidence you exude. Sweat begins to glisten lightly on his chest, and he bites his lip, letting out a low groan. "You're incredible when you take control, you know that? I want to see you even freer." He slides his hands to your hips, subtly guiding you, amplifying the shared pleasure.

HEESEUNG - Doggystyle "You have no idea how much I love this view," Heeseung says in a husky voice, his eyes tracing every curve of your body before him. His hands glide firmly along your waist as he adjusts the angle with precision. He leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmurs, "I want to explore every part of you; you can trust me." His rhythm is purposeful, blending intensity with control as he watches your every reaction with fascination, almost as if he’s creating a masterpiece.

JAY - Missionary "You're so beautiful, just like this, right here with me," Jay whispers, his voice thick with emotion as his deep eyes lock onto yours. He keeps a slow rhythm, his hips moving deliberately, as if each thrust is a declaration of love. His hands glide along the sides of your face, tracing your delicate features with care. "I want you to feel everything, exactly how I feel about you," he says, lowering himself to press a tender kiss to your lips, blending passion with gentleness.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[iloveboysinred]

That zuko smut you wrote was just 😩 is it okay if i request nsfw Zuko hc ??? Like how yall be getting down if that makes sense? Thank you 💗💗

Omg youre my first anon ask <3 i’m glad you enjoyed it! Shit took me 3 days and 4 spliffs to write. But lets get into it!

Cw; gn! Reader, explicit sexual content, smut, 18+ aged up Zuko for the first half, grown ass adult man Zuko for the rest. Nsfw under the cut, mdni.

GIF by @/reksonline

- When you and Zuko first started dating and fooling around, man had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Being an angry teenager on the run for 3 years looking for the avatar? Yeah, he didn’t really dedicate much time to going out and meeting people he would likely never speak to again, much less have sex with.

- when Zuko first started chasing you and the Gaang around you would have little intrusive thoughts about him and the way he was built, his aggression and his voice. But of course, you always kept it to yourself. He was the enemy trying to kill your friend after all!

- so, when Zuko finally came to his senses and joins the gaang, naturally you developed a thing for each other.

- lingering glances that were a littleee too long to be friendly, ‘accidental’ fleeting touches that were scandelous, Intense eye contact when you would pin each other down during training.

- Zuko being shy, he never let it get past more than that on his end, but he and everyone else knew that there was definitely chemistry happening between the two of you.

- So when you and Zuko started getting closer, even romantically involved, things started getting a little spicy!

—————— nsfw———————

- You and Zuko didnt want to make it official until the war was officially over, focusing on more important things like training Aang and readying yourself for combat.

- however, you guys still did couple stuff like sleep in each other’s tents, sneak off to have alone time, cuddle, ect

- So, when the others went to a nearby villiage looking for supplies, you and zuko were left alll alone.

- It started off as just enjoying each other’s company, kissing here and there, rubbing his back, him kissing your shoulders

- but then you found yourself under him, his whole body over yours in a messy make out session, his hands stayed put around your waist, his shy ass too nervous to move them.

- you reassure him that its okay for him to touch you, moving his hands to places you would like him to put them.

- you show him how you liked to be touched, and you touch him as well, learning his sensitive spots, his erogenous zones and committing every reaction to memory.

- soon after your first time together he just couldnt get enough, he was ravenous for you.

- would sneak off to have quickies with you.

-like during the play, you snuck off to get “fire flakes” but really he just had you bent over in a bathroom stall, rocking into your heat.

-then you just went and sat back down like nothing happened. Not even getting fire flakes to make your story believable.

- after the war was over you and Zuko made it official, eventually getting married.

- What started off as a clueless teenager slowly over time became a grown ass man who knew exactly how to please his partner.

- Zuko lovess eating you out. Man is a munch, every little gasp, moan and whine you let out is like dumping lighterfluid on a campfire. It just gets him all the more turned on.

- He definitely loves when you rock your hips into his face and he has to hold you down in place, burying his face deeper into you, not letting up even after you cum.

- loves overstimulating you. He just wants to watch your body lose allll control as he pleases you. Sometimes he’ll reach under and stroke himself while he eats you out, just to get some relief cause your face and sounds are driving him crazy.

-“ just one more baby, please” “you can do it love” “give me all of it baby” are just a few of the filthy words he mutters while he has his whole face between your legs

- definitely feels like he’s drunk off of you. Even if you don’t return the favor, he doesnt even care. He’s just happy he got his fill of you.

- Now if you do return the favor, Zuko quickly turns into a mess

- you’ll pay special attention to his tip, knowing it drives him crazy from the stimulation

- loves when you run your hands up his body while you suck him off

- praises you, sometimes if youre going especially crazy his words will slur, completely blissed out

- when ya’ll have sex he loves to thread his fingers into yours

- loves being close to you, making out and whispering words of praise and filth to you

- Zuko is a helpless romantic, but he also loves nasty sex if you’re willing

- might ask to spit in your mouth, choke you, loves to leave hickeys and bite marks all over you

- i feel like everyone says this but i think its true! He’s super into hair pulling, pull his hair and he’ll let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard

- just loves to cuddle and leave his dick inside you as you sleep, just clingy as fuuck and a big baby

- cleans you up and gives you so much fluffy affection afterwards. You’ll talk about your day, and he’ll talk about all the responsibilities of being Firelord

- sometimes yall do a one and done but if its been a while or if you’re feeling particularly needy you guys will go for multiple rounds.

- overall a loving, doting husband

- to end this off, yall are some horny freaky fucks

reblogs and notes are appreciated :> comments and asks are welcome! Hope you enjoyed anon 💕

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Filthy

summary: that’s the thing about illicit affairs, clandestine meetings and longing stares.

pairing: jonathan levy x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, car sex, professor kink, glasses kink?, dirty talk, kissing, creampie, longing, love confessions

wc: 1.7k

an: the professor kink went a little crazy in this one so if that’s not your jam, skipperoni! if it is…enjoy <3

oscar characters masterlist | writing masterlist

This shouldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t be in his car, in his lap— in his vicinity at all because it always leads to something like this. Messy and sloppy and hurried, so desperate. The two of you gave up on resisting this a long time ago, but that doesn’t keep your brain from questioning it.

He’s not even divorced yet, can’t even convince himself to sign the papers given everything that Mira had done. You’re his breath of fresh air, the only thing besides his daughter that makes him feel alive these days. But you’re also his closest colleague’s graduate assistant. The reasons that getting caught would end poorly for both of you are not small, hidden, or easy to brush away.

Those reasons don’t change the delicious way his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs under the skirt you have on. The dip of his tongue into your mouth, licking and searching feverishly. They don’t lessen the arousal sitting in your lower belly. You’re not sure if anything could because when you’re at the center of Jonathan’s attention, it feels like nothing matters beyond the two of you.

You groan into the next kiss, and Jonathan shivers beneath you, some desperate sound of his own echoing into your mouth. Accompanying the intoxicating taste of you is rain on your lips. You’re soaked to the bone, your clothes skintight and a few shades darker from the rain that continues to pour outside of the confines of his car. Every kiss, every touch of his warms you from the inside out.

“We’re committing public indecency,” He murmurs, but he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop using his grip on your ass to grind you down against the swell of his clothed cock.

He isn’t wrong but this is the best you could do in a pinch.

Your roommate is another graduate assistant, and though she doesn’t work in your department or Jonathan’s, she’d surely recognize him if you were to bring him over. There’s some unspoken agreement about his place, the house where he lived with Mira. You don’t feel ready to go there yet and thankfully, he isn’t quite ready to let you in. So he picked you up from your apartment complex and drove to the nearest park. Usually, the two of you plan a little better— there’s a long drive a couple hours away, some cozy little Airbnb on the edge of the city with the promise of going unrecognized hanging in the air.

This thing that shouldn’t be happening is practiced, meticulously planned but today is something different. If you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of him against you, you’d ask what has him so riled up. A little voice in your head can guess, but that would just complicate things. Instead, you’d really like to focus on this, that warm feeling he brings, and you hope that his concerns about breaking the law aren’t too intense.

“Do you want to stop?” You ask, breaking the kiss but only to kiss at his neck.

“No, don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop.”

And there is nothing that compares to the sweet sound of Jonathan calling you baby. You've never said no to Jonathan and you don’t plan to start when he begs for you like this.

“Kiss me again.”

Jonathan obliges, grasping the nape of your neck with gentle strength and pulling you forward to kiss you as if he’s trying to consume you.

You use your knees to raise up, sliding your hand between the two of you so that you can palm at his erection through his jeans. He whines into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. Both of these things spur you on and your other hand drops from his curls, working with the other to undo his jeans so that you can slip your hand into his boxers.

“You’re so sweet, so soft,” He murmurs as he begins to kiss and bite his way down your neck. You can hear the strain in his voice, how he’s trying his best to keep it steady and show that you aren’t affecting him.

There’s not a world where you have even half the discipline that he does. You are nothing but desperate for him— needy, always prepared to beg and whine until he gives you what you want. But, there’s no harm in trying to make him show how desperate he is for you too.

“Professor, please. I need you.”

“How am I meant to say no to you when you call me that?” He teases the skin of your neck with his teeth and you writhe in his lap, just like he wanted you to.

“You’re never supposed to say no to me, that’s the point, Levy,” You tease, hand tightening around his cock. His hips jump into your touch and you know that if you work just a little harder he’ll be exactly where you want him.

Jonathan’s hand skates up your torso. With your wet shirt, your nipples are practically on display through the fabric and he runs his thumb over one playfully before rolling the peak between his fingers, “And where’s the fun in that? You don’t want to earn it today, sweet girl?”

“No—“ You gasp through short breaths, chest heaving into his touch, “I just want you to give it to me. Please.”

His other hand finds your other breast, his touch more insistent as he pinches your nipple, “Desperate, sweet girl. Tell me what you want, I need to hear it.”

You fix him with that look that you know will get you anything you ask for, “I want your cock, I want you to let me sit on it.”

“You’re so fucking filthy, so needy for me aren’t you?”

“Yes, Jonathan, please.”

And while he thoroughly enjoys the way you call him professor, or Levy, his name rolling off your tongue makes his heart skip like he’s some teenage girl having her first kiss. Any teasing and pretense of having discipline go right out the window. His hands are gentle but sure as he moves yours out of his boxers and lifts you to bare himself to you.

“Are you ready? Can I—“

“Yes, please, fucking yes.”

Jonathan uses one hand to line himself up with your entrance, the other immediately gripping your hip and sliding you down onto the length of his cock. The kiss you two share is hardly that, but messy teeth and tongues that meet as you both moan.

“Ride me,” He says against your mouth. He wants it to sound like a demand but you both know what it is. He’s finally just as desperate as you are— he’s begging.

There’s nothing in you that wants to fight him, there never is, all you want is more and more of him— whatever you can get because despite the passion, the ease of spending time with him, there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that screams this is temporary.

It’s unhealthy to think that each time you and Jonathan fuck it might be the last, but you refuse to take him or any moment spent with him for granted. You place one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching back to find purchase on the dash so that you can bounce on his cock in earnest.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, it’s made for me,” He groans.

Your eyes are glued to his face, drinking in the sight of him. He rests his head back against the seat rest, mouth ajar. His glasses are propped up on the crown of his head so as not to fog up, and a light goes off in your head. Shifting most of your weight onto your thighs you swipe the glasses from his head, sliding them onto your face.

The sound he makes has you upset that you haven’t thought of this move sooner. His hips snap up into you harder, making you yelp as the tip of his cock presses against the spot deepest inside of you.

He’s breathless as he says, “Oh god, you filthy fucking girl.”

“Do they suit me, professor?” You pant with a smirk.

His eyes go dark, as he gazes at you from under his lashes, “All of this suits you, everything about us together suits you. My name in your mouth, my cock in your pussy, all of it.”

His words make your head spin, and you quickly remove the glasses so that you can kiss him properly, smashing your mouth to his. You roll your hips, taking him as deep as you can before you start to rock, bouncing in his lap once more.

The back and forth between you dissolves into a frantic madness, both of your bodies focused simply on giving and receiving pleasure. His hands find your hips, helping you bounce more quickly and firmly as both of your breaths go shallow and whiny. The pleasure in your lower belly builds, chugging higher and higher each time you come down against him. You’re surrounded by the smell of sex, the sound of it, the heat of it. The windows fog and with each thrust of his hips up against you there’s the sound of skin on skin, of how incredibly wet you are for him.

“Jonathan, I’m—“

“You’re so close aren’t you, baby? Gonna cum for me so I can fill you up nice and deep? So I can make you mine again?”

“M-make me yours,” You repeat his words but your version is a beg, full of desperation.

He shushes you, hand sliding between your slick bodies to find your clit, “Let me help, let me give you what you need.”

Despite the soft gentleness of his fingers against your clit, the shockwaves of pleasure they provide melt away the last of the barriers between you and your orgasm. You melt around him, so warm and tight as you cum with a soft cry. It’s impossible for him to resist, and he joins you, body going stiff as he fills you up.

“I love you,” He whispers unthinkingly in the postcoital haze.

“I love you too,” You whisper back easily, leaning forward to rest against his chest.

Neither of you allow that usual feeling of dread of returning to your lives as they are— of having to deny each other day in and day out— to settle in. Instead, you let the softness in, the love so young and new but no less meaningful. He holds you right, like he’ll never let you go. And for the moment, you let him.

if you’d like to be on my jonathan levy/oscar issac taglist lmk!

jonathan levy taglist: @honeybrowne, @angelfxllcm, @sweetascherrylies, @hotchs-bitch, @jakelcckley, @mrspector, @jitterbugs927, @myorestes, @winwin70 , @ninebluehearts, @whatthefishh, @fanofverymanythings, @marc-spectorr, @toracainz, @rmoonstoner, @roseqzpd, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings