#and then he invited himself. and then he invited his friends

[millers-angel]

beach trip

dbf!joel miller x virgin!reader

summary: back home for the summer, a getaway to a beach resort takes an unexpected turn when you cross a line with Joel—your dad’s best friend. warnings: age gap, kind of mean joel, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink (?, innocence kink, pet names, fluff at the end. wc: 7.7k

You're back from college just for the summer, and Dad had the great idea to plan a little getaway—a few days at a beach resort. Sun, sand, and overpriced cocktails. It sounded nice. Relaxing, even.

You’d already been home for a few days, not doing much. Helping Dad with a few things for work when he asked, watering the plants out front in the warm afternoon sun, taking long walks just to pass the time. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly exciting either. So when he mentioned the trip, you figured—why not?

That is, until Dad dropped the bomb: he had invited Joel Miller.

Yeah. That Joel Miller. His best friend. The man who has lived across the street for as long as you can remember. The same Joel Miller you've spent years exchanging sarcastic remarks with, toeing the line between playful and downright rude, though neither of you has ever seemed to mind.

He's always been quick with a dry remark, and you've never been one to back down. If he calls you a pain in the ass, you call him old and grumpy. If you roll your eyes at something he says, he just smirks and shakes his head like you're some bratty kid he barely tolerates. It's been the same for years.

But now, thanks to Dad's brilliant idea, you're stuck in a beach resort with him for the next few days. And if the way Joel had looked at you when Dad announced the trip was any indication, he wasn't exactly thrilled about it either.

The sun was beating down, the scent of salt thick in the air as you stretched out on the lounge chair by the pool. The resort was nice, you'd give your dad that much. Fancy as hell, the kind of place that served cocktails in coconuts and had a little island bar just across the pool.

"Want a cocktail, sweetheart?" your dad asked, already pushing himself up from his seat.

"Yeah, something fruity," you replied, lazily adjusting your sunglasses.

He nodded, making his way toward the island bar, leaving you alone—well, almost.

Joel was still there, sitting in the chair beside you, one arm slung over the back, legs stretched out like he owned the damn place. You could feel his eyes on you before you even looked. A slow, deliberate gaze, sweeping over your body in a way that made heat rise up your neck. He didn't even try to be subtle about it.

Your bikini wasn't anything crazy, but that didn't stop his eyes from trailing along the curve of your hips, how the slopes of your breasts pump over the bra, the length of your legs, lingering just a little too long in places he had no business looking.

You huffed out a laugh, tilting your head toward him. "Close your mouth, Miller. You'll let the flies in."

Joel's gaze flicked up to yours, unbothered, amused even. A smirk pulled at his lips as he dragged his tongue along his teeth. "Hell," he muttered, shaking his head. "When did you grow up?"

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the way he said it—low, gruff, like he was realizing it for the first time.

"Go get in the pool, old man," you teased, sinking further into your chair. "Before you get heatstroke."

Joel just chuckled, but you caught the way his gaze dipped again before he looked away, like he wasn't quite done looking yet.

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, warming your skin as you lounged back on the chair, toes buried in the hot sand. The sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, mixed with the distant laughter of resort guests. A few feet ahead, your dad and Joel were waist-deep in the ocean, letting the waves push them around like kids.

You had no interest in joining them. The water looked nice, sure, but you were perfectly content where you were—stretched out, the salty breeze cooling the heat clinging to your skin.

That was, until your dad decided otherwise.

"Come on, sweetheart," he called, waving you over. "The water's perfect!"

"I'm fine," you replied, lifting your sunglasses just enough to glare at him.

But your dad wasn't having it. He waded closer to shore, hands on his hips like he was about to give you a whole speech on making the most of the trip. "Just for a bit," he pushed, eyes glinting with challenge. "Don't tell me you came all the way here just to sunbathe."

You sighed, knowing there was no getting out of it. With a dramatic groan, you stood, stretching just enough to feel Joel's eyes flicker toward you. If he had been watching before, he sure as hell was now.

The moment your feet hit the water, you shivered. It was cooler than you expected, the waves gentle at first—until they weren't.

A swell came up fast, knocking you off balance. You barely had time to react before the water dragged you under, flipping you over itself like a rag doll. You sputtered as you resurfaced, coughing up saltwater while your dad laughed at your misery.

Joel, on the other hand, wasn't laughing—at least, not in the same way. He was watching. Closely. The way the water clung to your skin, the way the wet sand stuck to your thighs, your stomach, the soft curve of your ass before the next wave washed it away.

You felt his stare even before you met his gaze. Dark, unreadable, something flickering in those brown eyes that made your stomach twist.

"Enjoying the show, Miller?" you teased, brushing wet hair from your face.

Joel just smirked, slow and lazy, eyes dragging over you one last time before he glanced away. "Just surprised you didn't drown," he shot back. "Thought I'd have to come save you."

You rolled your eyes, kicking up a splash of water in his direction. "Keep dreaming."

But as you turned away, you could still feel his gaze lingering, heavy and deliberate.

Dinner was nice. The three of you sat at one of the resort's restaurants, the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the polished wood of the table. The food was good, the conversation easy—your dad did most of the talking, as usual.

Joel was quieter than normal, but not in a bad way. He just... watched. Not in a creepy way, not at all, just with that same quiet intensity he always carried. Like he was trying to figure something out, intrigued in a way he wasn't used to. His eyes lingered, scanning your face, the curve of your wrist as you lifted your glass, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear.

You tried not to let it get to you.

After dinner, as the plates were being cleared, your dad leaned back in his chair, giving you a pointed look. "You going out to the bar or anything tonight?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"You should," he said, nodding as if he had just made up your mind for you. "It'd be good for you. Get your mind off all that college stress, let loose a little."

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. "You're not wrong," you admitted. "Maybe I will."

Your dad seemed satisfied with that answer, and soon after, the three of you parted ways for the night.

Back in your room, you hesitated.

The truth was, you weren't exactly the kind of person who let loose easily. You had always been more on the reserved side, quiet, the kind of person who didn't make friends easily. College hadn't changed that. Sure, you had acquaintances, classmates you talked to in passing, but you weren't the type to go out partying every weekend, to dance on tables or laugh too loud in crowded bars.

But tonight... tonight you wanted to try.

You took a deep breath and started getting ready.

A simple dress, short but not vulgar, hugging your body in all the right ways. Nothing too much, nothing over the top—just enough to feel different, to feel good.

The bar was livelier than you expected. Warm lighting, the low hum of conversation mixing with the soft melody of live music playing in the background. Groups of people filled the space, laughing, clinking glasses, bodies swaying near the small dance floor.

You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly hyperaware of how alone you were.

It wasn't like you expected to know anyone, but standing there, watching clusters of friends and couples, you felt out of place. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe you should just turn around, head back to your room, and pretend you never even—

No.

You squared your shoulders and walked toward the bar, slipping onto an empty stool.

The bartender greeted you with an easy smile. "What can I get you?"

"Um," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "A margarita, please."

A few minutes later, a glass was placed in front of you. You thanked him, wrapping your fingers around the cool surface, but when you lifted it to take a sip, you hesitated.

Drinking alone felt... weird.

You glanced around, watching people chatting in groups, leaning into each other with familiarity. No one else seemed to be alone. It made you shrink into yourself a little, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Still, you took a sip.

You were halfway through your drink when someone slid into the empty seat beside you.

"Can I get a whiskey?" the man asked the bartender before turning his attention to you.

You tensed slightly as his gaze swept over you, taking you in. He was tall, dark-haired, dressed in a loose button-up that clung to his frame just enough to suggest he took care of himself.

"You here alone?" he asked, voice smooth, casual.

You hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around your glass. "Yeah."

He nodded, ordering his drink before looking back at you. "First night here?"

You shook your head. "Got here earlier."

His lips quirked in an easy smile. "That so? Well, I'm glad I ran into you."

The conversation flowed easily, helped by the soft buzz of alcohol warming your veins. He asked about you—what you were studying, how long you were back for—and you answered, telling him about college, about coming home for the summer. He listened with genuine interest, nodding along as he sipped his drink. In return, he told you about his job, something business-related, though you were too distracted by the way his voice dipped, the way his fingers toyed with the rim of his glass, to really focus on the details.

At some point, he ordered you another drink. You hesitated, just for a second, but then nodded, letting yourself relax just a little more.

You weren't used to this—being approached, being the center of someone's attention—but it was... nice. Different.

And when he extended a hand, his eyes warm with invitation, you didn't think twice before taking it.

The music was low, sultry, a slow rhythm that thrummed through your chest as he led you to the dance floor. You moved together easily, the alcohol making you lighter, more willing. His hands found your waist, firm but not forceful, pulling you in just a little closer. The heat of his palms burned through the thin fabric of your dress, and you swallowed hard, suddenly aware of just how close your bodies were.

You weren't sure how you felt about it.

It wasn't bad. It was just... new. A little overwhelming.

But you didn't pull away.

You let him guide you, let yourself sway with the music, let his hands settle comfortably at your hips.

And then—

A presence. Heavy. Familiar.

Joel.

"Hey, kid."

Joel's voice cut through the music, deep and unmistakable.

You stiffened instantly.

The man holding your waist paused, his grip loosening slightly as both of you turned toward the source of interruption. And there he was—Joel, standing at the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed over his broad chest, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

His smirk deepened. "Just checkin' in on you. Didn't know this was a kid's space."

Heat rushed to your face.

"I'm not a kid," you snapped, pulling your arms from around your dance partner's shoulders, but Joel wasn't even looking at you anymore.

Instead, his attention had shifted to the man standing beside you, his expression unreadable. The man—whose name you had already forgotten—cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. "Uh, you know him?"

You opened your mouth, ready to brush it off, but Joel beat you to it.

"Oh, yeah," he said, voice filled with amusement. "She's like my little shadow, been followin' me around since always, annoying me you know, likes actin' all mean, but we all know it's because she craves attention."

Your stomach plummeted.

The man blinked in surprise before—before laughing.

It wasn't cruel, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.

You could feel the humiliation creeping up your spine, burning your skin from the inside out. You took a step back, suddenly desperate for space.

"Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath, turning on your heel.

You didn't bother looking back as you weaved through the crowd, ignoring the way Joel's eyes followed you, ignoring the way your chest felt too tight, ignoring everything except the overwhelming need to get out of there.

The warm night air did little to cool the heat burning under your skin as you pushed through the bar's entrance, stepping outside with quick, angry strides. The music still thumped behind you, muffled by the thick walls, but it didn't drown out the sound of footsteps following close behind.

"Where the hell are you goin'?" Joel's voice was steady, but there was something else there—something unreadable.

You didn't stop.

"Back to my room," you muttered, jaw tight.

"C'mon, don't be dramatic. Just get back inside," he said, voice lighter, like he wasn't taking any of this seriously, like he thought this was just another game you were playing.

That was it.

"Fuck off, Joel."

You turned on him, eyes burning, fists clenched at your sides.

His smirk faltered. "Jesus, alright. No need to throw a tantrum."

You scoffed, shaking your head, turning to leave—but before you could take another step, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Let me go," you said, voice low and sharp, barely restrained.

He didn't.

Instead, he tugged you just enough to make you stumble back toward him. "You pissed 'cause I ruined your little date?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "Are you fucking serious?"

Joel tilted his head, watching you carefully. "Ain't that what this is about?"

Something about the way he said it—so casual, so certain—made something inside you snap.

"No, Joel," you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip. "It's about you humiliating me. It's about you treating me like I'm still some little kid when I'm not, or the things you think about me—that I'm annoying." Your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated it, hated the way he looked at you then. "So congratulations, okay? You got your little joke, you made me look like a fool. Are you happy now?"

Joel's expression shifted, something like regret flickering across his face, but you didn't stick around to let him respond.

You turned and walked away, shoulders squared, swallowing down the lump in your throat before it could turn into something worse.

The room felt too quiet, too empty when you stepped inside. You kicked off your heels, the soft thud of them against the floor the only sound as you crossed to the bed.

This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

You had spent so much time getting ready, standing in front of the mirror, second-guessing every detail. You'd told yourself you were doing it for you, that you wanted to go out and have fun, to feel good for once—but now, sitting at the edge of the bed, the dress that once made you feel beautiful now felt like a cruel joke.

Joel thought you were annoying. A little shadow that followed him around, desperate for attention.

Was that how everyone saw you?

Is that why you barely had any friends in college? Why it was always so hard to fit in?

The thought stung worse than it should have.

You blinked hard, but it didn't stop the tears from spilling over, slipping down your cheeks as you reached behind yourself, tugging down the zipper of your dress. It pooled at your feet, forgotten as you wiped your face quickly, sniffling as you reached for the oversized T-shirt draped over a chair. It was your dad's—soft and worn, far too big on you, but comforting in a way nothing else was right now.

Pulling it over your head, you made your way to the balcony, arms wrapping around yourself as you stepped into the humid night air. The sound of the waves filled your ears, the scent of salt thick in the breeze. It should have been peaceful. It should have calmed you.

But it didn't.

Because no matter how hard you tried, you could still hear Joel's voice in your head.

A soft knock at the door made you flinch.

Your dad? No, he's probably asleep by now, you know him well.

Another knock.

You turned, padding back inside, wiping at your face one last time before pulling open the door—

Joel.

Your stomach twisted.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a single word out, you slammed the door in his face.

"Open the door," Joel's voice came from the other side, low and steady.

You pressed your forehead against the cool wood, eyes squeezing shut. "Go away, Joel."

"Come on, kid—"

"Fuck off," you snapped, voice sharp with the lingering sting of humiliation.

A pause. A sigh. Then—"I'm sorry."

You huffed, arms tightening around yourself. "Yeah, well. Great. Now you can leave."

"I need to say it to your face."

You hesitated.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with him right now, but you also knew Joel—knew he wouldn't leave until he got what he wanted.

Jaw tight, you unlocked the door and yanked it open.

He was standing there, hands on his hips, looking... not as smug as usual. That only irritated you more.

"Can I come in?" he asked, gaze flickering over you, taking in the oversized shirt, the bare legs.

"No."

Joel exhaled through his nose—and then walked past you anyway.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shutting the door behind him.

"I just wanna talk," he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to calm you. "That's it."

You folded your arms over your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I didn't know the damn date was that important to you."

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it. "You're a fucking idiot."

He scoffed back. "I'm trying to apologize. You're upset to me and I get it, I didn't think it was something... so serious, you know? Like you wanted to get laid—"

Joel's words hit you like a slap.

Your body tensed, nails digging into your palms as you glared at him. "Get out."

He blinked, looking genuinely confused by your reaction. "What? Why?"

"Because you're an asshole, that's why."

He exhaled, rolling his eyes. "Look, I'm just saying—it's not a big deal. It happens to everyone. You're young, you're supposed to have fun, I get it, it's normal, it's—"

"Not your problem," you cut him off, voice sharp.

Joel's lips twitched, like he was amused by something.

You clenched your fists. "Change that stupid look on your face and leave."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you, and then—"It's 'cause you're a virgin, isn't it?"

Your entire body went hot.

The words burrowed under your skin, setting your nerves on fire. "That's not your business," you shot back too quickly, too defensively.

His eyes darkened, the amusement flickering with something else. "Huh. All this time in college, and you never—?"

Your throat tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

He chuckled. "That explains a lot."

Your glare sharpened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just that... only a virgin acts like this all the time. All bratty and wound up, like you're just beggin' for someone to—"

"Get out." you shouted, shoving at his chest, face burning with embarrassment and fury.

Joel barely stumbled back at your shove, his body solid as a wall. But before you could push him again, before you could do anything else, his hands found your wrists, firm but not rough, and in a swift motion, he guided you backward.

Your knees hit the edge of the bed. You tried to step away, to free yourself, but he only pressed forward, until you had no choice but to sit.

You didn't say anything. He was right, but you feel a little embarrassed about it, you're all grown up and still a virgin.

Joel exhaled, his grip on your wrists loosening, but he didn't step away. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and unreadable. "That guy," he started, voice low, "he wasn't lookin' at you like a person. He was lookin' at you like a piece of meat. And he was touchin' you the same way."

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Don't lecture me, Joel. Just accept that you were an asshole and move on."

His jaw clenched, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Fine," he said. "I was an asshole. And I'm sorry." His fingers twitched against your skin, as if debating whether to let go or hold on tighter. "But I wasn't tryin' to ruin your night—I just didn't want anything bad to happen to you."

You exhaled sharply, frustration curling in your stomach. "I'm not some naive little girl, Joel. I can handle myself."

Something flickered in his expression, something you couldn't quite place, but whatever it was made heat rise to your cheeks. "You're not naive?" he murmured, almost like he was testing the words. His thumb brushed against the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine. "Could've fooled me."

Your eyes narrowed, and you tried to jerk your hands away, but he didn't let you. "You're such a—"

His lips crashed against yours before you could finish, swallowing whatever insult was on your tongue. You gasped into his mouth, but he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss, his hands finally releasing your wrists only to slide down your arms, gripping your waist. The heat between you both ignited in an instant, like a match striking dry tinder, and before you knew it, you were falling back against the bed, Joel following you down.

His weight pressed against you, solid and warm, his knee slotting between your thighs as his mouth moved hungrily over yours. He kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment—like he had been holding back for far too long and had finally given in. Your fingers found the fabric of his shirt, fisting it as you arched slightly beneath him, breath hitching when his lips trailed down your jaw, your neck.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he muttered against your skin, his voice rough, thick with something you couldn't quite name.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Then maybe you should stop," you murmured back, though your fingers betrayed you, gripping him tighter instead of pushing him away.

Joel pulled back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His thumb dragged along your lower lip, eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes.

"Don't think I can," he admitted.

"You don't even like me," you mumbled, embarrassed.

Joel's thumb lingered on your lip, his gaze heavy, but the moment your words left your mouth, something in his expression shifted. A flicker of regret, of something deeper, flashed in his eyes.

"That's not true," he murmured, his voice softer now, rough around the edges but sincere. "What I said in the bar—it was bullshit. I don't think you're annoying. I love it when you mess with me, when you push my buttons." He exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening against your waist. "I just... I lost it when I saw him touching you. That's all."

Your brows furrowed, something twisting in your chest at his words. "You humiliated me," you said, voice quiet but firm. "For no reason. You hurt my feelings over something stupid."

Joel shut his eyes briefly, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself. When he looked at you again, there was nothing playful left—just raw honesty. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to. It—it was just a damn impulse, alright? You drive me crazy. I haven't stopped thinkin' about you since you came back, and then I saw his hands on you, and I—" He cut himself off, his fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thigh, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran through you, heat pooling in your stomach. You hated how easily he could pull you back in, how one touch had your breath catching. His palm slid higher, pushing the hem of your dress up just slightly, his calloused fingers warm against your skin.

Your heart pounded. "That's not fair," you whispered.

Joel's lips curved slightly, just a ghost of a smirk, but his eyes stayed dark. "Probably not." His thumb brushed along the sensitive inside of your thigh, watching the way you reacted, the way your lips parted just slightly. "But I'm done pretendin' I don't want you."

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He was too close, his breath fanning against your cheek, his fingers still moving—slow, teasing.

"Say somethin'," he murmured, his forehead nearly touching yours now. "Tell me to stop."

But you didn't.

His hand is way too far—far enough to feel you're wearing nothing but panties under the shirt. You licked your lips once he moved his hand to your belly.

"Have you ever been touched, sweet girl?"

You swallowed. "I don't think this is appropriate,"

Joel hummed low in his throat, his hand pressing just a little firmer against your stomach, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin. His lips hovered near your jaw, his breath fanning over your skin as he spoke.

"Why?" he murmured. "'Cause you're a virgin?"

You swallowed hard, gripping at his wrist as if that would stop the way your body responded to him. "Because my dad is your friend," you whispered, your voice unsteady.

Joel let out a quiet chuckle, deep and knowing. His nose brushed against the curve of your jaw, his lips barely grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. "Mm," he mused, his fingers slipping lower, teasing just above the waistband of your panties. "That ain't stoppin' you."

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of your neck, then another. His beard scratched against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "You haven't told me to stop," he murmured against your throat, his voice smooth, coaxing.

Your fingers curled against his arm, your pulse hammering in your ears. You should tell him to stop. You should push him away. But you didn't.

His hand lowered to your belly, going down to play with the waistband of your panties, then teasing his finger on your mound, sending shivers all over your body, getting you even more wet.

"Is it okay if I touch you here?"

Even if every part of your brain was telling you that you should stop before this goes further, you nodded like a fool, looking for his mouth again.

His fingers made they way under your panties. He could felt the smooth skin, probably never touched before because... he could feel how wet you were and—

"So you're really a virgin," he said amused, breaking the kiss, your lips still lingered by a string of drool. "Virgins get wet so easily."

You bite your lip. "Is that a problem? Cause if so, you should stop."

Joel chuckled, low and deep, his lips ghosting over yours. "Stop?" he murmured, his hand slipping just a little lower, teasing. "Darlin', I've been fightin' the urge to touch you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Now that I have you like this... I ain't goin' anywhere."

He spreaded your legs, played with your panty til your crotch. "Then why do you make it sound so embarrassing?" you asked sheepishly.

He finally reached your slit, you gasped, you were a bit scared. Are you gonna fuck for the first time with your dad's best friend? Would it hurt? Would it be weird after? A lot is going through your mind, but he cleared all your thoughts.

He pressed his lips against yours as he drawed circles on your clit, he could feel how needy and swollen it was, you must've been aching. You muffled a whimper against his lips, which he found really hot.

Instinctively you grinded your hips, just seeking for more pleasure. Your fingers curled on his hair, clutching it. He loves to feel how you writhe beneath him, his fingers exploring your folds, until they found your hole.

He didn't went rough, he was slow, deliberate, slowly stretching you out with his fingers—thick and strong. You couldn't help to moan, breaking the kiss. It was the first time you get this far with someone, lust runs in your veins.

Joel grins at the sound of your moan, enjoying the way you're falling apart under his touch.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. "Let go. Let me hear you."

He continues to move his fingers, adding a second one to stretch you even further, his movements still slow and deliberate but with a hint of impatience.

"You're so tight for me, babygirl"

"Oh, God," you whimpered.

Joel's fingers are slick with your juices as he moves them in and out of you, his movements growing more urgent with each thrust.

Your skin is so smooth and soft, but you're also so hot and tight. He can feel every muscle in your body clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. It's driving him crazy, making him want to take you even more.

He leans down and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing against your skin as he whispers in your ear. "You've been touched like this before?"

You shook your head. "No."

He smirked, he knew it. You were a pain in the ass, you loved getting on his nerves, you loved getting in his head because deep down you wanted him like this.

He stopped working his fingers in you, to get rid of your panties, with no warning, he just threw the garment somewhere in the room, changing positions to toss your calves over his shouders, holding your hips.

Your hand instinctively covered your slit, you were embarrassed, after all, he was someone you knew, someone who is close to your dad, someone who—

"Don't hide from me, angel," he said taking your hands to his lips. "I wanna taste you."

"Joel—" you swallowed. "I'm—"

"You don't need to be shy with me,"

He drew your hands away, just to see how flushed, swollen and needy your pussy was. Glistening in your own juices.

His gaze made you squirm, made you feel all your blood rushing to your cheeks. It wasn't bad—it was the opposite. It was dark and deep, like he was starving and had just laid eyes on a feast laid out before him.

You could feel his breath, his lips barely touching your folds. He wanted to feel every part of you, never thought he would have his best friend's daughter laid in front of him like this, showing all her vulnerability to him.

Joel's tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze fixated on your body. He moves his mouth lower, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of marks behind.

"Don't be a tease, Joel," you whined.

Joel grins against your skin, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he says, his voice a mixture of amusement and desire.

He moves his mouth to your clit, sucking on it hard as his fingers continue to move inside you, curling and rubbing against your sensitive spot.

It was heaven. The way his tongue swirled on you, the way he knew exactly how to do it, the way his fingers kept working on you, taking you to the edge.

Joel's tongue is like a snake, moving slowly but firmly, tasting every inch of you. He licks and nibbles at your folds, exploring every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your juices. His tongue is slick and warm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

You were biting your lip, trying to muffle your moans but failing miserably. You were curling your toes, so close to the orgasm.

"Joel, please—" you yelped.

Joel lifts his head for a moment, his lips glistening with your juices. "I know you are, angel," he says, his voice low and rough. "You're close. I can feel it. Just let go, let yourself fall apart for me, babygirl."

He dives back in, this time, he's gonna taste you directly from the source. His tongue plunging into your core, searching for that sweet spot that will push you over the edge.

Joel's tongue continues to move inside you, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. He moves his hands to your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

"You taste like heaven," he repeats, his voice strained with pleasure.

He flicks his tongue against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Enough to make you come.

Writhing, your legs shaking because it was too much. You let yourself fall apart, panting, moaning, saying his name.

He pressed his lips on your thighs, then slowly pulled your calves from his shoulders.

You were just recovering, but he just took off his jeans, you were amused, biting your lip, but once you saw his bulge, your gaze changed.

Surprised and... a little scared. It was too big, it will defenitely hurt, also, now that you see that this is going serious, you don't have condoms, but you want to do it.

You sit on your knees to help him getting rid of his shirt and his boxers. You adored his body, you've seen it before, but not like this, so... raw. His cock was dripping precum, it was swollen, his base hairy... you were eager to touch him.

Your gaze was sticked to his cock, the way he held it. "Can I touch it?" you asked sheepishly looking at him through your lashes.

His cock twitched in response. "Yeah, you can touch me,"

You swallowed and the tip of your finger barely touched his tip... it wasn't even entirely when he made you lay back in bed. He couldn't take it, you were almost too innocent, the way your first thought was to touch the tip and not fist him, the way your finger looked so small. He won't last long if you keep doing that.

"That's unfair—" you knitted your brows.

"I'm sorry, angel. You will touch me tomorrow, but right now I need to fuck you."

Your cheeks burned and your knees were still together. He laid his hands on them but you talked before he could spread them.

"Joel, I don't have any condoms,"

He chuckled. "Me neither,"

"What should we do?" your face almost screamed panic, it was really sweet and also, of course you had a point, but his mind only worked for pleasure right now.

"You want us to stop?" you shook your head. "Okay, then trust me, I'll pull out on time,"

"But it's still risky—"

"Jesus," he finally spreaded you open. "I ain't gonna hurt you, I promise,"

You nodded, trusting blindly in him.. because right now, you could only think about your own pleasure too.

He teased his tip all over your slit, mixing your juices, rubbing his cock against your slit, feeling how small it felt. He didn't want to hurt you, he knew you'd feel fucking good to fuck.

"Take your shirt off," he growled.

You didn't need to be told twice, you tugged the piece of fabric over your head, revealing your bare breasts to him. He had imagined them before, how your nipples would be, back in the pool, in the beach, they were covered just by a rectangle but they were hiding so much.

He went inside slowly. Your hands grasped to his arms, whining and made a face of pain. He knew it would hurt but he knows you'll feel good in a couple of seconds.

Once he was finally inside, he didn't move for a couple of seconds—you felt them like an eternity. You were choking him, you were warm, soft... tight, it was too much.

"Please—" you whimpered.

He locked his gaze on yours and thrusted. It hurt, and it kept hurting until it didn't, until all the pain was replaced with pleasure and lust.

He was being as gentle as possible. You wrapped his torso, sticking him even closer to you.

His weight all over you but you could only plea for more. Your walls throbbed and so did his cock. It felt good. Joel was making you squirm, losing your mind over him.

Moaning, clawing your nails on his back, he's sure you're gonna leave marks, scratches, but he couldn't care less.

"You're taking it so good," he groaned.

You hummed something incoherent in response, couldn't even mouth a word.

"So tight," his head found its way to the crook of your neck. "Such a good girl,"

He nudged your g-spot, thrusting and nibbling your neck, leaving little marks, feeling your intoxicating scent.

The way you moaned his name, softly and needy, made him lost his mind.

You whined. "Joel, don't—" your eyes roll involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah, that's it, come for me," he cooed on your ear.

And you needed less. You followed his order, losing yourself, reaching your second orgasm. Your walls choked him, he never felt anything tighter before. You were milking him... and he would've shot his load inside you, God knows he would've.

But he couldn't take the risk. He pulled out with a loud pop sound of juices.

He jerked off until his cum was costing your slit. It was so much he felt like a teen.

Your body was still trembling, weak from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn't regret a thing. Every nerve felt alive, sensitive to even the faintest touch of the sheets beneath you.

Joel stood up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. A moment later, he returned, a warm cloth in hand.

He was gentle as he cleaned you, careful, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary. You appreciated that—the quiet care in his actions, the way he wasn't rushing to leave.

You expected him to grab his things and go, to put some distance between you now that it was over. But to your surprise, Joel didn't move toward the door. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, then slipped under the covers beside you, his warmth seeping into your skin as he pulled the blanket over both of you.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze in the dim light. "I really enjoyed it," you admitted, your voice soft, a little shy.

Joel let out a low hum, his hand finding your waist beneath the sheets. "Me too," he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. "More than you think."

His words settled deep inside you, warm and reassuring. You let yourself relax, curling into his side, and when he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, you leaned into the touch.

For the first time that night, you didn't overthink. You just let yourself be held.

Joel let out a slow breath, his fingers still tracing idle circles against your waist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice quieter now, softer.

"I'm sorry," you murmured.

His brows furrowed. "For what?"

You swallowed, fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "For being... I don't know, a little much sometimes. I know I can be stubborn, or—" you let out a small, nervous laugh—"annoying, like you said."

Joel shook his head immediately. "Don’t say that," he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "Drives me crazy when you push my buttons, yeah, but that don’t mean I don’t like it." His voice dipped lower, rougher. "I like it too damn much."

You blinked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

He exhaled, his thumb running along your ribs. "I’m sorry for makin’ you feel like you were a bother. You never were. Never will be."

A comfortable silence settled between you, warm and easy, interrupted only by the rhythmic crash of the waves outside. You traced lazy patterns over his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart before finally speaking again.

"So..." you hesitated, biting your lip. "Are we gonna do it again?"

Joel huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "Sweetheart," he said, amused, "you damn near killed me. Need a minute before you wear me out completely."

You laughed, lightly smacking his arm, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as he pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

"Not now. I know old men usually take—"

He laughed, hard, delighted. "Old man? This old man just made you have two orgasms in a row."

You rolled your eyes, but still could feel your cheeks warm. "I was talking about doing it tomorrow? Maybe? I mean, I would like to get better, learn new things,"

Joel smirked, shifting onto his side so he could look at you properly. His fingers brushed over your hip, lazy and warm. "Oh, now look at you," he murmured, voice dipping into something teasing. "All shy all of a sudden."

Your face burned. "I’m not shy," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"Mm-hmm." His thumb traced slow circles against your skin. "So let me get this straight—you’re askin’ me to teach you a few things?"

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, low and knowing. You swallowed hard, lips parting, but the words seemed to stick in your throat.

Joel grinned, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed your ear. "That’s real cute, sweetheart," he murmured. "But you gotta use your words."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Forget I said anything."

His chuckle rumbled against your skin as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss just below your ear. "Oh, no. I heard you loud and clear," he mused, his breath warm against your skin. "And don’t you worry—I’ll make sure you learn real good."

You sighed, utterly spent, and rolled onto your stomach, your body sinking into the mattress. The exhaustion tugged at you almost instantly, a deep, pleasant heaviness settling into your limbs. Your eyes fluttered shut, the thought drifted lazily through your mind—maybe tomorrow, you could sneak into his room. The idea made your lips curve slightly before sleep pulled you under and within moments, your breathing evened out, soft and steady.

Joel propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. His fingers ghosted over the curve of your back, barely touching, just tracing the shape of you beneath the sheets. The room was quiet, save for the distant sound of waves crashing outside, but inside his head—inside his chest—everything was loud.

He should feel guilty. Hell, maybe he did, a little. Not because he regretted it—because he didn’t. Not even for a second. But because it was you. His best friend's daughter. And not only had he slept with you, but he'd been your first. That should’ve weighed on him more, should’ve made him hesitate, should’ve made him pull away before any of this happened.

But looking at you now—peaceful, lips slightly parted as you breathed, hair splayed out over the pillow—any guilt that tried to surface didn’t stand a chance.

Because you were beautiful. And, God knows, you drove him crazy.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling quietly.

He was in trouble. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains of the resort’s dining area, casting a warm glow over the table set with fresh fruit, toast, and steaming cups of coffee. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, blending with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore.

You sat across from Joel, the cool tile of the floor smooth beneath your bare foot as you stretched out, pressing lightly against his leg beneath the table. A small, teasing touch.

Joel didn’t react at first. Just sipped his coffee, gaze flicking up to meet yours over the rim of his cup. But when you dragged your foot higher, brushing along his calf, the muscle in his jaw ticked.

Your lips curled slightly, feigning innocence as you reached for a piece of fruit, taking a slow bite.

"You’re in a good mood this morning," your dad commented, flipping through the resort’s activity pamphlet. "Had fun last night?"

Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around your fork.

Joel cleared his throat, setting his mug down a little too carefully.

You forced yourself to nod, hoping the heat in your face wasn’t too obvious. "Yeah," you said, voice just a little too high. "I had a really good time."

Joel let out the smallest chuckle, shaking his head as he reached for the butter.

"Glad to hear it," your dad said, turning a page. "This trip’s all about relaxing. You deserve to enjoy yourself, sweetheart."

You nodded, glancing at Joel, at the way he was watching you now—something dark, something knowing.

"And," your dad added, stretching back in his chair. "Summer’s just getting started."

Your stomach fluttered. If only dad knew...

Yeah. Summer had just begun.

[luvyeni]

THE HIGH LIFE 𝕼. ( 02z )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박종성 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. rich!enhypen , exotic dancer!reader , threesome , oral ( m ), unprotected sex, double penetration word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … jay doesn’t mind sharing his new and favorite girl

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ why can’t i ever find a good clear photo of these three … anyways here it is and I hope you like you !

jake and sunghoon walked through the club ; the different half dressed dancer staring at them with hunger in their eyes; it’s like they could smell the money radiating off of the boys — they could see it too , just by the way they skipped the long line outside.

“the internet was right , jay really outdid himself with this club.” sunghoon eyed up a dancer who just smirked at him walking away. “where is that fucker anyway?” they searched around the club , weaving through all the people. “there he is.” jake pointed , the boy was sitting in vip , surrounded by very beautiful women scrolling through his phone; sunghoon scoffed. “cocky fucking bastard.” they made their way over to the vip section. “did you forget you invited or what?”

jay looked up from him phone ; shooing the dancers away. “go have some fun , make some money.” he said , sending the bouncers waiting in front away. ”you guys are an hour late.” he said , jake and sunghoon sat down. “sorry we have our own businesses to attend to.” sunghoon said. “besides seems like you had enough company to keep you business.” jake smirked. “not like you paid attention to them , how the fuck could you be glued to your phone while surrounded by so many sexy ladies?”

the three current young; rich and trending men sat in the secluded section in the crowded club. “yeah they’re all pretty , they make me tons of money but that’s pretty much it.” he shrugged. “you serious man?” jake took a sip of his drink. “all these pretty girls and not one you’ve taken home to that big lonely apartment of yours?” sunghoon asked not convinced at the words he was hearing. “stop fucking lying.”

he sat back in his seat with a smirk. “well there’s one.” he said , his friends exchanging glances between each other. “only one? well she’s got to be real fucking special to get the park jongseongs undivided attention.” jake said. “are you serious with her?” jay shook his head. “that’s the thing , she’s not looking to date , just a quick fuck here and there.” he said. “and pay her fucking bills probably.” jay didn’t take offense to that , he did pay for your living , but with all the money he had it was nothing to him. “she’s happy and im very , and i like to keep my girls happy.”

“so let’s meet her.” jay raised his hands , calling over one of the dancers. “yes mr. park.” sunghoon rolled his eyes , while jake smirked. “go get yn , tell her to get pretty and come out.” the dancer nodded , walking away. “mr. park? you narcissistic fuckhead.”

meanwhile you sat on the pink couch jay placed in the room you and the rest of the girls got ready in. “you dancing tonight yn?” another dancer asked you. “or are you waiting for jay to get off.” you smirked hearing the condescending tone in her voice. “don't start this today.” hana a bartender that you were friends with said. “let’s be real here , yn is the best dancer here , has the nicest ass and a good pair of tits , if it wasn’t gonna be her than it wasn’t gonna be you.” the door opened with a dancer walking in. “yn you’re working vip tonight for jay and his friends.”

you stood up off the couch , undoing your pink silky robe. “have fun tonight ladies.” you said , staring at the dancer who was red with anger. “maybe when im done with him you can have him , that’s a big maybe and when.” you said , slipping into your heels walking out of the room ; letting them deal with the girls' tantrum , you’ve gotten used to it now ever since the girls figured out the situation you and jay had going on. that’s exactly what it was a situation — you and him had fun and he showered you with gifts, nothing more.

you immediately caught jays eye as you made your way over to the section with a fresh bottle of the most expensive alcohol in your hand that you got when you stopped by the counter. “that’s an expensive bottle.” jay said. “and i guess it was on my dime?” you smiled. “now why would it be on mine?” you sat it in the ice. “you called me out here didn’t you?” you said. “well that’s because i wanted you to meet some friends of mine.” you turned facing the two very attractive men sitting in front of you. “you have very attractive friends.”

“ah don’t make me jealous.” jay said , his arm snaking around your waist pulling you into his lap. “you called me out here to play and i want to play.” you pouted , your eyes trained on sunghoon. “i like that one.” you pointed , sunghoon raised his eyebrow. “me?” he said you nodded. “yeah you.” oh you were snippy , he liked that. “told she’s a handful hoon.” jay rubbed your waist , he allowed you to do what you wanted , but at the end of the day he knew whose bed you’d end up in once the club closed. ”hoon.” you let his name fall from your lips in a sultry tone. “is he paying?” you asked more so him. “i have the money.” jay removed his arm , you stood up walking over to him. “good.”

you sat down right on his lap; his arm came around you to keep you upright. “don’t be so scared , you can look.” you whispered in his ear. “or touch i don’t mind , but that’s gonna cost you extra.” you felt him gripping your side. “princess play nice.” jay said. “i don’t think i want to.” you bit your bottom lip. “she’s a brat jay , i see why you like her so much.” you moved around in his lap , he hissed. “she’s too cute though.” jay said , jake sitting there , he hadn’t said anything since you came over , but you could feel his eyes on you. “is he a little shy?”

you moved to sunghoons other leg , resting your arms on the chair ; you leaned over to him. “thats jake baby.” you smiled. “well jake are you shy?” he shook his head. “no?” you tilted your head to the side. “that’s good , shy men bore me.” jay watched you , a drink in his hand , lure his friends into your sexy but dangerous web. “princess.” he spoke up. “how about we move this to a more private space?” he could see your eyes basically light up , standing up , grabbing your hand. “you guys coming?”

the four of you definitely knew what you were on the moment the door closed to the red room; jay immediately moved your hair to the side , kissing your neck; pulling your straps to your bra down. “you know what to do princess.” the three men stood in front of you; you slowly peeled the very little clothing you had on , a look of hunger and lust in their eyes as your boobs bounced due to the lack of a bra. “fuck , sexy ain’t she?” the two boys nodded; you pulled your panties off , throwing them at jake , leaving your thigh garters and heels on. “don’t just stand there like a bunch of pussies.”

“you know i don’t really like that mouth she has on her.” sunghoon said , he was the first one to walk over to you. “makes you want to shut her up doesn’t it?” jake nodded. “she’s too talkative , let's end that.” jake said , already unbuckling his jeans. “shut her up.” he sat down , freeing himself from his pants , his cock springing up , slapping against his stomach; he was a nice size , thick enough. his tip was read and leaking with precum. “look at her drooling like a slut.”

“suck him off.” jay commanded ; sitting down in the seat watching as you took him into your hand , jerking him off. “fuck.” jake groaned. “so big.” you go face to his cock , your ass in the air giving jay and sunghoon a look at your drenched cunt. “look at that.” jay slapped your ass , you moaned ; jake grabbing the back of your head , pushing your head down on his cock. “look at that wet pussy.” sunghoon chuckled. “drenched like a fucking slut.”

jake had you by your hair , guiding your head up and down on his cock , gagging on it as jay sunk a finger inside you. “gotta stretch this pussy out before we completely ruin it.” you moaned around jakes cock which made him moan. “fu-fuck her throat is so fucking good.”

“she’s ready.” jay pulled his fingers out of your hole. “try and be a little gentle.” he told sunghoon , but the way the boy slapped your ass ; you could tell he was gonna be anything but that. “such a nice fucking ass.” he growled watching it jiggle. “pussy so wet , you’re fucking dripping like a little whore.” you moaned , pulling off of jakes cock with a pop , jerking him off. “are you gonna put it in or are you gonna stand there and slap my ass all night.” you teased , rubbing your ass back on his cock. “fuck.” he groaned , pushing himself right inside you ; you moaned out , taking jake back into your mouth.

“fucking slut just letting me in like that.” sunghoon dug his finger into the flesh of your ass. “pussy was waiting for one of us to fill it.” he moved his hips ; you tried to moan , but your mouth was occupied by jake bucking up into your mouth , the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. “ fuck fuck!” he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” jake pushed your head all the way down , his cock twitching as his cum shot from his tip into your throat. “ah fuck , fucking shit!” jake cursed , as you released your mouth. “shit that felt good.” he sighed , throwing his head back , your head was pushed against the couch cushions as sunghoon plowed you from the back.

“ah shit , slutty pussy got wet just from him cumming down your throat.” sunghoon thrusted deep inside you. “fucking nasty slut.” jay stood up from his seat. “pull out.” he said , sunghoon pulled out leaving you wanting more. “you gonna take us both princess , you cool with that?” jay said , you smiled , nodding as you climbed into his lap , your back against his chest. “used to taking more than one cock?” sunghoon said. “don’t think you’ll live up to it?” you bit back , he smirked. “bet.”

“both of you calm down.” you moaned as jay rubbed his cock along your folds , your head dropping back against his shoulder. “both of you are gonna get what you want.” he pushed himself inside you , filling bottoming out. “oh fuck that’s princess , let’s open you up for sunghoons cock.” his fingers coming to your folds pulling your pussy lips apart already being split by his cock. “don’t worry bro she can handle it.” jay said , sunghoon smirked , rubbing his cock along your folds. “not like she had much a choice anyway.”

sunghoon pushed himself inside you ; stretching you open along with jay. “ah fuck!” you screamed as they both moved the same time. “fuck fuck.” both of them moving , one in and one out; you were never not filled , both of them fucking you ; and then jake wasn’t done , coming back over to , slapped his cock on your boobs , rubbing his tip along your nipples. “mmh fuck , such pretty tits.” you tilt your head , taking his tip into your mouth. “fuck.” jay moaned out. “guess she wants her mouth full again.”

you nodded moaning as you bring him back into you mouth. jays hand came up to your boobs, squeezing them as he bucked up into you. “don’t cum.” he whispered in your ear. “you cum when it’s just me and you.” you moaned , nodding. “fuck , im gonna cum.” sunghoon said , pulling out jerking his cock off. “fuck.”

jake also pulled out , his tip pressed against your cheek as he stroked his cock. “down on your knees baby you’re gonna take all of our cum.” you stood up , legs wobbly as get down on your knees , letting them all circle around you jerking off , they all groaned as they came at different times , covering your face with their loads. “look at the slut.” sunghoon said , squeezing his length , milking himself. “covered in cum.” jay looked down at you , bringing his hand up to your cheek , pushing his thumb into your mouth. “good girl.”

jay covered you in his jacket ; letting you lay there while he handled business with them outside. “i really do fucking understand you.” jake said. “i wouldn’t mind taking her home for a few nights too.” jay shook his head. “what she does when i don’t see her is not my business.”

“just know she will always end up back in my bed , spending my dime.”

©️LUVYENI

[starfruitii]

cws & notes. fluff! post-timeskip. iwaizumi hajime x implied fem!reader. 500+ words. since you guys liked the last one, here's more iwaizumi :) he's so <3

Iwaizumi is a gentleman. It's made immensely clear even before you started dating him, that chivalry isn't dead as long as he is living and breathing.

You never have to touch a doorknob when you're walking by his side, because by the time you reach out, he's already turning the handle. It's instinct by now; he could be midway through a monologue about the clients at his job, or the mediocre weather they've been having, or any other topic, and he'd still never forget to hold the door open for you to pass through first.

It's a wonder how you didn't notice sooner, with how frequently it happens, but it's not the only thing. It can be subtle at times, so much that you barely notice when he guides you to the street side of the footpath, leaving himself closest to the road, or when he lends you his umbrella, even if he has a longer walk home.

The habits are charming, but no moment shows his ways better he asks you out. A bunch of neatly clipped roses in hand, in his nicest shirt and pants, he arrives with a whole speech ready to confess his feelings. For once, he even looks nervous, almost stumbling over his words. But all of that is gone as soon as you smile at him, accepting his invitation with a breathless laugh.

Suddenly, with the walls of friendship knocked down, and faced with the chance for more, it only amplifies. Now, he gets to hold your hand, and drape his jacket over your shoulders, and slide his arm around your waist to draw you closer. Whenever you go out together, he's always either at your side or close by, holding your drink when you duck into the bathroom, and glaring at anyone who dares to make you feel uncomfortable.

And it's not just you who sees it, it's everyone else too.

On his birthday, a few of his closest friends gathered for drinks together, celebrating the occasion together. You were enjoying yourself for a while, but the gathering was starting to drain you. It was loud, and it was cold, and Iwaizumi noticed. He always did.

“You good?” He asked lowly. “We can leave early if you want.”

“I'm fine,” You said, stifling a shiver. The movement wasn't lost on Iwaizumi, and his brows furrowed minutely. He shrugged off his own jacket—the nice, comfortable black one you bought for him as a gift—and gently laid it over you. The weight of it settling across your shoulders was comforting, and you smiled in gratitude.

“Can't believe this favouritism,” Mattsun, sitting a barstool over, rolled his eyes, light-heartedly slapping Iwaizumi on the back. “He never treats us like that, you know. What if I was cold, huh?”

It was true, you realize slowly. You've never seen him interact with anyone else quite in the same way as how he interacts with you. Perhaps that's to be expected, with you being his partner, but it was obvious even before. Even with all his rough edges, every part of him was softened especially for you.

You smiled at Iwaizumi, with nothing but love. “Oh, that's just the way he is.”

A gentleman, through and through.

do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai. reblogs are appreciated <3

[arcadia-smith]

Unrequited love. (I will always think that this is something that breaks hearts painfully slow)

Simon Riley x Reader.

You’ve always known that loving Simon Riley was a dangerous thing. Not because of the nightmares that clawed at his mind or the ghosts that followed him like a shadow. No, it was dangerous because he never saw you the way you saw him.

And maybe that was your fault. Maybe you should have walked away before the feelings sank in too deep, before your heart curled around him like ivy, clinging even when it hurt.

But you never did.

Not when he smiled at you, a rare thing that made your chest ache. Not when he held you close after missions, his breathing unsteady, as if he needed to remind himself that you were still there. And certainly not when he whispered your name like a prayer in the quiet hours of the night.

It was easy to believe you meant something to him.

Until her.

She was everything you weren’t. Soft laughter and bright eyes, warmth in the way she touched him, an ease in how she held his attention. And he looked at her the way you had spent years looking at him.

You remember the exact moment you knew.

It wasn’t when he first mentioned her name, or even when he started spending more time away. It was when he showed up at your door, eyes shining in a way you’d never seen before.

“She said yes,” he breathed, almost disbelieving.

And you smiled.

God, you smiled so wide it hurt, because that’s what friends do. They don’t break apart in front of the people they love. They don’t let the cracks show.

So you pulled him into a hug, let him crush you in his arms as he whispered about how happy he was. You buried your face into his shoulder, blinking back the sting in your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Because he never looked at you like that.

And he never would.

—

You don’t go to the wedding.

You have an invitation, of course. It sits untouched on your counter, the elegant lettering spelling out his name alongside hers, mocking you every time you pass it.

Soap calls. Gaz texts. They ask if you’re coming, if you’re okay, if you need anything. You lie through your teeth, tell them you’re sick, that you’re busy, that you don’t want to intrude.

Simon doesn’t call.

You don’t think he notices your absence until much later.

Maybe it’s when the party winds down, when he’s alone for the first time in hours, when the realization creeps in like a whisper.

Maybe it’s when he looks around the reception, searching for you without even realizing he’s doing it. When he catches Soap's somber expression, the way Gaz avoids his gaze.

Maybe it’s not until years later, when the honeymoon phase fades and real life settles in. When he finds himself thinking of you in quiet moments, wondering why you aren’t around as much anymore, why it feels like something is missing.

You relocate. A different base. A different team.

You relocate to spare yourself.

—

Years Later

The news reaches him too late.

Simon is sitting in the common hall, watching the rain streak down the window, when his phone buzzes. He answers out of habit, not expecting much.

Soap's voice is quiet. Too quiet.

He barely hears the words over the rushing in his ears.

A mission gone wrong. Too much blood lost before help arrived. You were alone, left behind by your new team.

Gone.

The funeral is small. Simple. He doesn’t speak. Just stands at the back, hands clenched into fists, watching as they lower the casket into the ground.

Soap stands beside him, but no one else does. Not her. Not his wife. She hadn’t asked where he was going, and he hadn’t told her.

Because how could he explain it? How could he explain the way his ribs felt like they were caving in, the way his lungs burned with every breath? How could he explain that this loss felt different than any other?

He doesn’t cry.

He doesn’t say goodbye.

He just stands there, watching as they cover you with dirt, as the last piece of you disappears from his sight.

And for the first time, he wonders if maybe—just maybe—he loved you all along.

But now, he’ll never get the chance to tell you.

And that is the worst part of all.

—

Months Later

It happens on a quiet night.

Simon is going through old boxes in the closet, looking for something long forgotten. His wife is asleep in the next room, unaware.

He’s sifting through old mission reports, books, scraps of things that don’t matter—until he finds it.

A letter.

His name is scrawled across the front in your handwriting, the ink slightly smudged, like you hesitated before writing it.

He shouldn’t open it. He knows that.

But he does anyway.

His hands shake as he unfolds the paper. The words blur in front of his eyes, but he forces himself to focus.

Sim,

I don’t know if I’ll ever send this. Maybe it’s just for me. But if you’re reading it, then I guess I wasn’t brave enough to say it out loud.

I loved you. I loved you in all the ways a person could love someone. And I never told you because I knew—God, I knew you didn’t feel the same. And that’s okay. I never expected you to.

I just wanted you to know.

I hope she makes you happy. I hope she gives you the kind of love I always wished I could.

And I hope, someday, I stop wishing things had been different.

—Y/N

The paper crumples in his grip.

His chest is too tight, his throat burning as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Because fuck.

He should have known.

Should have seen it.

But it’s too late.

It’s too late, and you’re gone, and all he has left is the ghost of what could have been.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part of all.

[colorlessjay]

Did Dean put in their wedding vows that Cas has to promise to die after him? Like Dean is 100% DONE with watching Cas die, Cas either lives a bit longer as a widower or they go at the same time no ifs ands or buts.

Yes Dean knows that’s like an impossible promise to definitely keep but he threatened to call off the whole wedding after HE was the one that insisted on inviting everyone unless Cas let Dean put that promise in their vows

Y/N?

Ngl I imagine he does this on the spot so Cas can't talk him out of it

Like it already took him at least 15 proposals before Cas actually said yes, Dean's not about to get this shot down

So just imagine

at their wedding, it's small and casual. Friends and family together in their backyard, Dean managed to talk Cas into wearing cowboy hats. Cas managed to talk Dean into wearing a suit

And just as Cas finishes his heartwarming, tear-jerking, love-in-his-eyes vows that leave everyone's hearts exploding

Dean kisses Cas' hands, smiles, and says "I vow to kill myself immediately if you die before I do"

Dead silence

Cas stares at Dean wide-eyed "... Dean"

"I'm serious. I've watched you die too many friggin times. Each one hurting worse than the last"

"Dean" Cas getting more concerned

"Burning your body felt worse than being in hell"

"Dean..."

"And when the.. the empty took you I just-" Dean lets out a humorless laugh "Fuck, Cas, I asked myself what the point even was any more"

"Oh Dean..."

"And if I have to watch you die again, after everything we've been through, after everything I've put you through? It's gonna destroy me"

Cas grips his hands tightly, his eyes glassy with more tears as the frustration he felt earlier melts

"So" Dean takes a breath, staring down at their joint hands as he speaks from the heart "While we're alive, while we're married and together, while I still have you down here slumming it with us mud monkeys, I'm gonna vow to make sure you never have any doubts. I'm gonna spend every waking moment making your life here so good, you'd wanna live forever with me"

Castiel breaths in shakily, stopping himself from telling Dean that was already the plan

"I can't promise it's gonna be easy. I've never been easy to be with" Dean winks making Cas chuckle "But this is it for me. You're it for me. Hell, heaven, purgatory, the Empty. Wherever you go, I'll be right there with you"

Castiel sniffles, refusing to turn away

"Till death do us part my ASS. We ain't parting for shit"

"I love you"

The kiss comes a little earlier than expected, but it's not like they care. Not like this was ever a traditional wedding (They have pie instead of cake, and God himself is officiating the wedding)

They're happy

Cas is gonna have to talk to Dean about the potential suicide though

---------

anyways, ba-dum-tsk

[veritas-scribblings]

Euphemia Potter - @into-the-jeggyverse - words: 660

He tries to make himself small so he doesn’t take up space. So he can’t be seen, perceived, heard. She’s sure that he would fit himself into the nooks and crannies of the two-storey house if he could. Vanish himself entirely into the aether if they let him.

He minds his pleases and thank-yous more than her own child does. 

Calls them “sir” and “ma’am”.

Keeps his elbows off the tables.

Ensures he’s freshly washed for meals.

Waits patiently to be excused.

Euphemia had heard bits and pieces from James over the years. At twelve-years-old, James had written home about the boy who had arrived at the school and was, disappointingly, “nothing like Sirius at all”. At thirteen-years-old, he’d written home to inform them that “Baby Black” had become the Slytherin Seeker and had described in incredibly lengthy detail how he appears out of “literally nowhere like some sort of apparition on a broom”. 

At fourteen-years-old, James had written home to inform her that “Baby Black and his two Slytherin thug friends” were, quite ominously, “causing problems” for them. And had left it at that, no other form of explanation given.

At fifteen-years-old, Euphemia had been informed quite stiffly by both James and Sirius that “that traitorous wretch who shall not be named” was strictly out of conversational bounds. Now, Euphemia tries not to pry. She likes to think of herself as reasonable. Understanding. A hip, cool kind of mum. Yet, although she’d had her hands full with one Black son, she’d found that she couldn’t help but worry. Nor could she suppress the overwhelming urge to storm Grimmauld Place so she might keep both sons of the House of Black in her sanctuary. “The Potter Home for Wayward Runaway Boys”, Fleamont likes to call it.

At sixteen-years-old, James had been shook when this quiet, scowl-y boy had turned up on their doorstep with a trunk trailing after him and such presumptuous audacity that he couldn’t be anyone other than Sirius Black’s little brother. He’d deposited himself in their lounge, eaten their food, slept in their spare bed, and quite literally moved himself into their lives. And it was when she’d caught her son peering curiously around corners to watch the scowl-y boy read, pestering the boy with thinly-veiled invasive questions, that Euphemia had quickly figured out exactly what was happening.

Now that he is seventeen-years-old, Euphemia Potter is watching her son fall in love for the first time. James doesn’t know this yet. He hasn’t yet figured it out. And thank goodness for all of them that neither has Sirius, who is certain that James is trying to be hospitable.

James is building (mending, even) bridges, according to Sirius.

It’s surprising, honestly, because James is really quite ridiculously obvious about it. He follows Regulus into the living room to sit with him while he reads (“I’m just doing my summer homework, Mum!” he'll claim, though James has never done summer homework in his life). He’ll read the same books as Regulus so they can talk about it afterwards (“He’s just so quiet, Mum, but if you get him talking about books, he could go on all day!”). He’ll invite Regulus to help him cook, offer to make his famous Chai for Regulus, invite Regulus to take a peek around Flea’s potions lab, offer to give Regulus a tour of Flea’s garden of potions ingredients, though he’s never shown much of any interest in his father’s work before.

And sometimes, when James doesn’t think anyone is watching, she’ll catch James staring, looking so desperately besotted that he might very well float off into the aether at any moment.

James doesn’t realise it yet, but Regulus, bless his soul, is worryingly perceptive. And though he might not yet quite realise the extent of James’s affections, he’s well aware of the attention. 

And Euphemia thinks, Regulus is Slytherin enough that he might very well have something up his sleeve.

[heeikeuu]

Is It Love?

.ᐟ.ᐟ pairing – brother best friend riki! x fem! reader

.ᐟ.ᐟ synopsis – y/n had started her first year in uni and spent a lot of her time burying her head in books not caring much about having her first kiss till her friends teased her for being "boring." Riki catches her crying in her room and decides to change what her friends think. But can they keep denying the tension between them?

.ᐟ.ᐟ wordcount – 1k >

.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings – fluff, teeny tiny suggestive, (let me know if I missed anything)

NOW PLAYING; Is It Love? Sik-K (PROD. GXXD) (FT. MOON) ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•

Dragging your weight into the house, you heard the muffled screams of Jake and Riki gaming in the living room. Letting out a sigh you try to pass by them without saying a word, which was unusual of you. Normally, you would scold them for being loud or join them for a round to kill time.

"LESS GAURR" Jake jumped victoriously after beating Riki in a match despite losing all the other ones. "I just went easy on you," Riki retorted with a scoff but he couldn't hide his smile at how cute his hyung was being, turning his head, he noticed you with your shoulder all slumped up and your head held down as you took off your shoes. Puzzled, he decided to stay quiet for now.

"Since I won FAIR AND SQUARE" Jake empathizes, interrupting his train of thought, "I'll go buy snacks from the mart to celebrate, you down?"

"I'll just stay here, can't be caught lacking again," he jokes playfully but Jake just gave him a stare and shrugged his shoulders, "fine but I'm not getting you snacks," he told him in a playful tone as he grabbed his jacket to head out.

Noticing the commotion died down a bit downstairs after a bit you sighed. Sitting at your bed curled up in defeat, everyone in class was gossiping about who already had their first kiss or even first time, meanwhile you had neither and got laughed at for saying you just never had the time to think of that stuff.

"Of course, our y/n is too busy making out with her books instead." Though you know they were only joking, it didn't make it sting less that people always thought of you as some sort of a buzz kill.

Without realizing tears were streaming down your face. Today just wasn't your day, having woken up in a cranky mood, not doing as well as you thought on your test, and your friends teasing you. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door that brings you back to reality.

"W-what is it" you tried to sound firm and unbothered but your voice betrayed you. "Are you okay, squirt?" Hearing Riki's lighthearted voice at the end of the door made your face turn pink.

Quietly opening the door for him after wiping your tears. Your red nose and eyes gave you away. "Oh did the sun rise and flowers finally bloom?" He joked as you opened the door. Glaring at him, "Nishimura I'm not in the mood, what do you want?"

Not caring, he invited himself in your room, going straight to your bed to lay his upper body, prompting his arms behind his head, he eyes you. "Why were you crying?" His eyes staring into your soul, turning to gaze at the floor you respond, "none of your business" you quietly went to sit at the bed's edge.

"Did anyone bother you?" He suddenly got up from his position to look at you properly, "No." He wasn't buying your facade.

"Look at me, y/n." His strict yet caring tone made it impossible for you to ignore him further.

Looking up at him like he requested, he saw tears slowly falling down your rosy cheeks. His mind and heart racing, he knew you didn't like crying in front of people. Opening his arms, you looked at him feeling vulnerable but thankful he isn't teasing you right now like he usually does. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, your face hidden in his chest.

His heart running a mile as he thought he would die seeing you like this. Carefully using his right hand to pat your head, he softly asks, "do you wanna talk about it?" His warm breath hitting your ears.

"I woke up late, didn't do well on my quiz, and my friends laughed at me for not having my first kiss yet," you said through tears, your voice slightly muffled by his hoodie, "what was last part?" He heard you clearly but wanted you to face him and say it. Looking up at him with your lashes wet and lips red from biting them. If his heart didn't explode later, it surely did now. "I got teased for not having my first kiss and got called a buzz kill for it." Your wobbly tone making his heart ache.

His hands carefully move to cradle your face, squishing your cheeks slightly making your lips form into a cute pout. "You're not a buzz kill, they are just bitter they aren't cute nerds," slapping his chest slightly, "I'm being serious!" "Who said I wasn't?" He look down at you with a smirk, not missing the way your gaze wavered. "I mean it's not my fault I don't know how to kiss-" the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

"I can teach you," Riki interrupts, trying to sound nonchalant but his ears reddened betraying his display of confidence. "Stop messing around Nishimura" you pointed at him with your eyebrows scrunched up in disbelief. "I'm not messing around," slowly taking your hand from his face and holding it, he leans a little closer to test the waters, he looked straight into your eyes with your noses soon touching.

You closed your eyes, heart almost bursting. Unknowingly, your hand that held Riki's was digging at his skin, leaving marks. "I need a verbal answer, angel" the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey making you dizzy. "Ok," you replied looking at him with your big eyes and long lashes.

Smiling at you softly, "just follow my lead." He whispers softly before breaking that sacred wall between you two that he built in hopes he can bury his true feelings.

He started off slow and gentle, making sure you were comfortable, pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he looked at you with eyes that held so much love you couldn't help but take initiative this time, kissing him just how he showed you. Your hands eventually tug on his hair making him gasp, you took this opportunity to use your tongue, catching him off guard but he held your waist tighter, pulling your body impossibly closer.

The kiss filled with passion and years of unspoken feelings between you both, after a while, he breaks the kiss. His lips gently caressing your jawline before looking at you with sincerity, "I love you, y/n and I don't want to share you with anyone so don't go showing off your new skills to anyone else."

Looking at him in disbelief, you buried your face in his neck, embarrassed before responding, "I love you too, dummy." Smiling ear to ear at your answer, he rocked your body side to side, "your brother is going to shoot me for this," he joked, making you giggle.

Nishimura realized that he could no longer deny that this was his favorite sound and he wouldn't trade the world for you.

No longer deciding to bury your feelings for one another, you both stayed contently in each other's arm for a little longer.

So, is it love?

tags; @imaluvsj7

© heeikeuu | likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

[merlucide]

THE MIYA SIBLINGS…

Oh your absolutely insufferable, stupid, annoying brothers (..that you guess.. you kinda love..) drive you freakin’ bonkers! Life as a first-year with two obnoxious third-year brothers isn’t easy, and yet, somehow, every day is its own brand of chaos. So, what does an average day in the Miya household look like? Well… here’s a glimpse.

pairings: Miya twins x youngersister!reader (NOT SHIP)

type: Headcannons/blurbs + SMAU (texts, twt)

genre: crack, fluff, comfort

key: y/n = your name n/n = nickname

warnings: cursing, the twins embarrassing reader, reader has no friends lmao, shit/piss mentions, the twins being pervs (yk that tho)

—————————————————————————

Everyone at Inarizaki knew the Miya twins. And then they found out about the Miya siblings.

When you first came to Inarizaki, walking around with their man (aka Atsumu and Osamu), the Miya fangirls immediately took notice. At first, they thought you were a girlfriend—until they learned the shocking truth: the Miya twins have a younger sister?!

That’s when the befriending attempts began. They’d wait outside your classroom, invite you to lunch, and you honestly thought they ?? just really wanted?? To be friends you?? It felt really nice!

But the moment they opened their mouths, it was all, “Eeeeeek! Your brothers are soooo hot!!!”

And you were just like, ‘oh’ ‘🧍‍♀️😑’

 Yeah those ‘friendships’ did not last very long… 

—-And obviously you were popular with amongst the boys. The Miya curse I fear. Samu did nawt approve of your new popularity lol. Tsumu was jealous that people were talking about YOU and not HIM lmao— tho tsumu LOVES bragging about you/showing you off. He’s like ‘oh yeah my baby sister can do this!—‘ ‘welll MYYY sister can do that better than YOURRR sister’

Anywho the twins love having you at the same school!!! Atsumu always stops by your class during breaks either to talk to you or just piss you off lmao. Osamu ends up being your unofficial walking schedule lol (not that surprising tbh) ‘Ain’t ya supposed to be in the library?’ ‘Didn’t ya say ya had a quiz today?’ ‘Why are ya here? Don’t ya got PE?’ He flicks your forehead (affectionate) and is like ‘get to class’ 🙄+😐

(You got him his bowl)

When it comes to typical overprotective older sibling behavior, Osamu takes the crown. He’ll literally insert himself into any conversation you have with a guy—every. single. time. It’s actually the worst. He will embarrass you and terrify the guy. One time a guy came over, all confident trying to talk to you. Before you could even react, Osamu literally stepped in front of you, staring the guy down like he was an inconvenience to his entire existence.

Then with the most uninterested, deadpan expression ever, he just like ‘no’

He won’t let anything start 😒 you def ignore him after he pulls shit like that. He dgaf tho lmao

Atsumu, on the other hand, is like your wingman, sorta.. He hypes up your crushes, encourages the flirting… but the second things actually start progressing (ex:lovey-dovey texts, potential boyfriend territory, lingering touches), he’s suddenly all up in your business—and the poor guy’s too. He’ll casually throw an arm around both you and the guy, all smiles, and go, ‘So, how’s it goin’?😁’

you’re glaring daggers at him your eyes screaming ‘Tsumu, istg I’m gonna kill you’ and the guy’s practically slithering away while you whisper-scream at Atsumu while he acts all innocent. Oooooor he’ll just shriek and yank you away saying how ‘yer too little for boys’, while glaring at said guy.

But if you ever wanna hang out with anyone he’ll try to set smth up for ya!! (As long as he approves of who)

Osamu is nawt good at trying to show his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch (sorta, he’s not rlly good at it but wants to be close yk?). Like he won’t initiate (most the time) but if you hug him he’ll hug you back. He just like asks if you want him to take you somewhere or smth. He shows his care for ya n tsumu by making food all the time, it’s what he’s good at and loves, and loves that you both love it. He also always wants to be there for ya. Samu is great emotional support, he doesn’t say a lot but says EXACTLY what you need to hear. Will just sit with you and let you get what you need off your chest. He’ll put his arm around you and rub up and down. 

Atsumu is very unique at showing his love 🧍‍♀️ his love languages are physical touch, words of affirmation, and quality time. When you were little Atsumu and Osamu would both hold your hand when you would walk around, and when you got older and wouldn’t hold his hand anymore he was so sad 😭🙏 he’s a hugger, but he’s still your older brother, so he’ll like mess your hair up then hug you lmao. Always asks if you wanna practice with him, he always feels cool teaching you something new :)

Atsumu is also your number one hype man like if you ever feel like you can’t do smth tsumu has a whole list of just exactly why/how you can. He’s not even trying to make you feel better it’s what he genuinely believes :)

Oh and they are both way too invested in any drama you’re involved in/even just aware of. The second you run into the room and announce, “I’ve got tea,”they’re already locked in, heads propped on their hands, eyes wide like you’re about to deliver the most important news of their lives.

‘Spill NOW’

—————————————————————————

tags: @sharkissm @someprettyname @fishii28 @shrii-kk

well this is all I have for Miya siblings rn 😔😔 tumblr will only let me upload 30 images, I had more 🧍‍♀️🙏

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I do!! I love Miya siblings so much ughhhh I wish they were my older brothers sooo bad it HURTs

lemme know what you think!!!! I LOVE FEEDBACK!!

—————————————————————————

made February 11th 2025

[gotta-winwin]

heavy limerence | chan x reader

cw/tw: angst, based on the song right where you left me by taylor swift

a/n: don't sue me for emotional damage :) i know it's a rly angsty fic for a birthday but i've been working on it for awhile now... this was derived from the headcannon childhoodbestie!dino

tysm to tara @diamonddaze01 for beta reading <33

Chan supposed he was at that age now, the age of marriage and kids and destination honeymoons. At least everyone around him seemed to think so, as he watched his close friends each find their person and tie the knot. Settle down. 

Everyone was docking on land while he was still wading in the ocean, legs sore from keeping himself afloat. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t find the right person, no. Chan had found the perfect person. It was just his rotten luck that person didn’t want him back. 

Although Chan had tried to deny it time and time again, growing up next to you had shaped him in a way that made him only yours. Maybe it was subconsciously, but he had grown up, tailored himself to be everything you would have wanted, aligned himself to your needs. People had told him it was pathetic, but Chan didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t a sacrifice if it meant you’d love him.

And so he gave up drinking at bars, loud highschool parties, the pair of green neon runners you had told him did nothing for his image. He didn’t mind. His young mind saw it as an investment -- an investment for a future he could share with you. 

So why was he now sitting at the end booth of the local restaurant, your wedding invitation in his hands? 

Chan couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. 

The manilla coloured piece of cardstock seemed to burn in his hands, as he nursed a glass of whiskey, the sky outside littered with fragmented stars. 

Y/N L/N and Lee Chan welcome you to their destination wedding by the beach. 

He blinks the forming tears away and his name disappears. 

It was hard to let the past go when his room still held notions of you, scattered across the vicinity. Your two hands had basically built the place. If Chan concentrated just enough, he could still see you sitting on the hardwood floor, your hair falling over your face as you bent down to study the IKEA furniture instructions. 

“I can’t believe I’m witnessing the character growth of Lee Chan.” You had marveled, a light teasing tone hinted in your voice. “Getting his own apartment?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Impossible.”

He had laughed, handing you a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. “You’re just jealous my place is bigger than yours.”

“Yeah.” You admitted, still in awe of the place. It had those floor-to-ceiling windows and bookshelves lining the walls that you’ve always wanted. “I still can’t believe you got this place.” 

Chan would never admit out loud that he had gotten it with you in mind. Truthfully, he hadn’t really cared about getting a place until he had walked into this one, suddenly hit with visions of the two of you inhabiting the space. Fuck it, Chan had gotten the place with your future family in mind, but he knew that was insane of him. 

“It just felt right,” is all he says, kneeling beside you to help. 

“Well, you know I’m going to be spending all my time here.” 

Yeah, that was kind of the point. 

Chan was a man of math, statistics and common sense. He had always believed you’d love him. 

It had just made sense- that after spending all this time with each other, crying into one another's shoulders, sharing straws and easy banter- Chan figured you’d love him. 

He knew he was a good person. And he had always been so very good to you. So when he shook hands with your fiance for the very first time, he had swallowed the urge to punch him in the face. Because it should’ve been him. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had never viewed him in that way. 

Chan knew he would always be your brother, your best friend, someone you loved and cherished. Just not in the way that would make you want to marry him. 

No. That was a privilege he wasn’t allowed to get. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.” The man held you by the waist, a kind smile extended towards Chan. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things I hope.” Chan smiles back and he prays it doesn’t look forced. 

“Great things. She can’t seem to shut up about her best friend- her ‘platonic soulmate,’ she says.” 

The words swirl down his throat. It stings. 

“I’m so glad you could make it to the wedding, Chan.” You tell him. 

He nods. “Of course.” 

Of course. 

“Promise me something.” 

He lays on the matted rug covering his new apartment, running his lego motorbike lazily against your leg. “Anything.” He says, and the way he says it makes your heart warm. 

“If neither one of us gets married by the time we’re 30, we’ll marry each other.” 

It’s a ridiculous idea, but the thought of getting married to Chan didn’t sound so bad. 

“Okay.” 

He breathed out the words and knew it was over for him. Your name would be forever crossed against his heart, marked onto it like young lovers marked their initials on tree bark. 

Although you had taken the moment as a joke between desperately single friends, Chan had taken it as a vow- one equally as important and weighted as the vow he would’ve made to you in chapel. 

And so Chan waited for 30. He waited and watched you leave him behind.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

A Super Soldier's Soft Spot

pairing: post tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

genre: flufff

el's thoughts: first time writing for bucky!! it's probably a lil ooc, but i figured i'll post it anyway. hope yall like it!!

masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Winter Soldier. Ex-Winter Soldier. Avenger. The-One-With-The-Metal-Arm.Uncle Bucky. Babe.

All are names Bucky answers to. Granted, the last one was the latest addition to the list. He met Y/N at a little backyard barbeque at the Willson’s, that Sarah had put together. Sam invited him and he was promptly introduced to Y/N—Sarah’s friend since middle school. Bucky hated to admit that Sam had finally found him a match but he couldn’t deny how quickly he fell for Y/N. 

She was a breath of fresh air in the storm that was his life. Cliche. He knows. 

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!”

Bucky chuckled, “I’m the one closest to the door, Y/N/N.” He tugged his leather jacket on and grabbed his keys from the key hook by the door. “Plus, you know your family doesn’t start dinner at the time they say they would. We’ll still get there early.”

Y/N hopped on one shoe-clad foot as she slipped the other shoe on, clutching her canvas tote bag in her other hand. “Still.” She stood up straight in front of him with a bright, teasing smile and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Okay, let’s go, Super Soldier.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully and held the door open for her, followed her out, and locked it behind him. If anyone asked him just five years ago if he saw himself going to family dinners once a month he would have laughed in their face. Yet, here he was, helping his girl into his car to drive them to her monthly family dinner. 

Pulling into the large crowded driveway of Y/N’s family home, she reached across the center console and squeezed Bucky’s hand excitedly. Y/N’s older sister had texted her beforehand, letting her know that the kids would be joining them. Since Y/N’s nieces and nephews are in their early to mid-teen years, the kids seem to always have plans of their own on the weekend. The kids had grown incredibly fond of Bucky, already claiming him as their favorite. Y/N had tried to warn and prepare him for how overwhelming her nieces and nephews could be but Bucky surprised her the first time he met her family. 

Bucky didn’t realize how much he missed being in a family setting, having forgotten how his own mother and sister were. 

As soon as Bucky and Y/N stepped out of the car, the front door swung open hazardly. 

“Uncle Bucky!”

Bucky barely had time to register the title before a whirlwind of limbs tackled him. He allowed himself to stumble back playfully, wrapping his metal arm around Y/N’s youngest niece, Ava, who clung to him like a koala. 

“Hey, kid,” he chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Thought you had plans with your friends?”

Ava grinned. “Canceled. I had to be here. You promised to help me with my soccer drills.”

“Ah, right,” Bucky nodded while a smirk tugged at his lips. “You think you’re ready to take me on, huh?”

She crossed her arms, feigning confidence. “I’m faster than you.”

“Sure, kid,” he said, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as he followed Y/N up the steps.

Inside, the house was alive with chatter, and the smell of something delicious and savory, simmered on the stove. Y/N’s mom greeted them first, pulling Bucky into a hug before she moved to kiss Y/N’s cheek. It had taken him a while to get used to the casual affection Y/N’s family showed him, but now? Now, it didn’t send him into fight mode. Now, he let himself melt into it.

“Bucky. Sweetie, you look too thin.” Y/N’s mom fussed, cupping his face. “Are you eating enough?”

“I–”

“He eats more than enough, Mom.” Y/N cut him off with a laugh. “Don’t let the super soldier metabolism fool you.”

Before Bucky could defend himself, Y/N’s two oldest nephews appeared, grinning as they exchanged knowing looks.

“You bringing the metal arm for football, or are you scared you’ll embarrass yourself?” Tyler, the eldest, challenged with a smirk.

Bucky raised a brow. “Kid, I fought aliens. You really think I’m scared of a game of backyard football?”

“Prove it then.”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as Bucky let himself be dragged out to the backyard by the boys. “You’d think they’d stop testing him by now.”

Her older sister, Marie, smirked, handing Y/N a drink. “Please. They love him. He’s the first guy you’ve brought home who actually keeps up with them.”

Y/N smiled, watching Bucky as he jogged across the backyard, already intercepting a pass with an ease that left her nephews gaping. He looked so… happy. Like he belonged.

Like family.

Marie nudged her side. “He’s the one, huh?”

Y/N glanced at her sister before looking back at Bucky, who had just scooped up Ava onto his shoulders as she cheered. 

“Yeah,” she murmured, heart swelling at the thought of Bucky being a part of her family permanently. “Yeah, I think he is.”

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour (Jimin)

It's your turn to make Jimin your "bitch" during Taehyung's 'Hallow-tine's Day' party.

Word Count: 6.435

Warning: smut, slight sub jimin, oral sex, dom reader, unprotected sex, face riding, alcohol intake, dirty talking, face-riding, oral sex (f/m), edging, face slapping, nipple sucking, begging, praise kink, handjob,

Valentine's Day Masterlist | Part One

“How long have you been working here?”

You inhale through your nose as your eyes catch onto Park Jimin, along with Jungkook, Hoseok, Namjoon and Taehyung. All of them - of course, besides Jimin - offer you kind smiles and Taehyung even a short wave. 

“What can I get you?” you sigh out. It was going to be a long shift - and you’ve only been here an hour. 

“Did Jimin invite you to the Hallow-tine’s day party?” Taehyung asks, turning to the man who is seated beside him. 

“Why would I do that?” Jimin scoffs, his eyes down at the menu to scan the various amounts of meat. 

“I’ll take that as a no. You should definitely come.” Taehyung says, a boxy-like smile flashing your way with a set of white teeth. 

You lick your lips, tilting your head a bit at Taehyung. They were the last people you’d expect to see right around now outside of school. Especially since this was your job you were working at and you were also involved with one of them - in a way - who you wanted nothing more than to respond snarkily. 

“I…a Hallow-tine’s day party…?” you question with a shrug. “Can I get you all any drinks?”

“I’ll take a sprite-” Hoseok begins.

“It’s like a Halloween party.” Taehyung continues, uncaring. All he did want was for you to attend this party, silently pining for you and Jimin to continue this…relationship of sorts? It isn’t developed as of yet, but soon he has high hopes. “But on Valentine’s day, of course. So come in a costume!” he smiles, blinking your way as if a “Hallow-tine’s” party makes sense.

You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Taehyung.

“Costume winner get’s $1000.” Jungkook pipes up, averting his eyes upwards to look at you now. “I’ll take a water.”

“A water?” Jimin scoffs, knitting his brows. “Am I the only one drinking?”

Jimin turns his eyes to you, his mind flashing with memories of the past weekend he shared with you - the same ones that began in the classroom and ended with you and him entangled together the entire weekend afterwards. The same memories are plagued with you and him walking the halls of the University as if it never happened, back into the classroom bickering with one another. That was back in October and nearly 4 months ago.

“Whiskey.” Jimin says. “The whole bottle.”

“Are you serious?” Jungkook snickers. 

“You have a baby and act like you’ve never downed a whole bottle of whiskey in this very restaurant.” Jimin retorts, leaning against the booth with a raised eyebrow.

“Those days are behind me, Jiminie.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. It wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t opposed to drinking, but he still had to go home and help his girlfriend after this. “I’m a father.”

Jimin gags.

“Soo…?” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows at you. “It’s a Halloween party as you know. Just set on Valentine’s day. Come in a costume. Everything will be provided. Drinks…food…”

“Is there a reason why you want me to come?” you place the tablet onto their table and place a hand onto your hip. “Also, why is the halloween party so…late?”

“Why not?” Taehyung questions. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we? We want you there.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jimin mumbles to himself. 

You bite your lip to refrain from responding to Jimin, who appears as if he wants you to. A smirk is forming onto his lips as he witnesses your restraining appearance. 

“I couldn’t attend. I was focused on preparing for my daughter.” Jungkook explains to you instead, a twinkle in his eyes that causes you to smile a bit at how cute he looked - and excited that he was now a father. “So Tae being dramatic,” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “decided to have it in February.”

“You can go a few hours without flirting with her.” Taehyung rolls his eyes towards Jimin. “And I wanted all my friends there. Bring the baby-”

“Fuck no.” Jungkook scoffs. “My mom is taking her for the weekend. I’m not sure how I feel about being without her.” Jungkook sighs and there goes your heart. You ponder how Jimin could be friends with someone as sweet as Jungkook. Maybe he was forcing it, you think.

“But seriously, Y/N. You should come. It’s a slutty event-" Taehyung begins.

“You know a lot about slutty, Y/N.” Jimin nods his head.

“Not now.” Hoseok hisses low, turning his eyes to Jimin. 

“I do know.” you laugh a bit, body flushing with heat. You cannot act ashamed by what you do -  not now or ever. “Maybe I can add a slutty costume to my wishlist and you’ll buy it for me. That’s what you usually tend to do with anything else.”

In the end, it’s you who has the last laugh; one that has his friends joining along with your comment. 

“Whisky, sprite, water…” you nod your head, picking up the tablet to put their drink orders through. “Anything else I can get you all to drink?”

Your and Jimin’s banter didn’t stop there as the entire time they were there he was retorting back to you. But, you wouldn’t say it bothered you much. It was quite fun in a usually boring shift.

You had agreed to come to Taehyung’s Hallow-tine’s party, one he explained was usually planned by Jungkook, but instead opting to not. Now that, as Jungkook put it, was a father, he had prepared his home for a baby and not parties. 

“That doesn't mean the parties are going to stop.” Taehyung had said piped in immediately after. 

“How long have you been working here?” Jimin asks, downing a shot. It was five minutes until closed and he was the only one here. You ponder how one man can still drink and not appear utterly wasted.

“A year.” you respond, spraying down the table he occupies. “I don’t only fuck myself on onlyfans for a living.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Y/N. I just never saw you here.” he says, licking his lips. “We come here often.”

“Picked up more hours recently.” you admit. 

“Onlyfans going dry?” Jimin jokes.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You won’t take his joke seriously as this was Jimin. But, he was correct in a way. You never solely depended on it to pay you expenses and always had a job lined up.

“It’ll never be dry as long as you’re subscribed.”

Jimin snickers at how quick you were with responding to him. He scoots out of the booth and stands, stretching a bit. 

“What are you wearing?” Jimin asks. “To the party?”

You shrug. “Haven’t really been to a Halloween party before. Especially a Hallowtine’s. It’s a slutty event.” you say, trying your best to imitate Taehyung’s deep voice. “So I’ll make sure to have my ass out.”

Jimin clicks his tongue.

“We should go together.”

You’re silent for a moment, hearing other servers around you clean their tables just as you were doing. Closing shouldn’t be hard tonight as it was a slow evening. 

“Together?” you cross your arms. “Is this the part where you confess your undying love for me?”

“Y/N,” Jimin shakes his head. “I hate you.” he deadpans. “But…we agreed that it’s your turn.”

You know what Jimin is insinuating. Four months ago, it was Jimin who had the upper dominance. You were “his bitch”. This time, it was your turn. Should it have taken this long? Probably not. But, you were a busy person and so was Jimin. You weren’t going to be the one to go to him first - as stubborn as you were.

“Okay.” you say, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “I’m sure I can find a slutty police costume.” you poke Jimin’s shoulder. “You’ll be the inmate.”

“That’s so basic.” Jimin rolls his eyes a bit, your touch lingering on his shoulder. He blinks a few times, even humming to himself as he thinks about the costumes. “Are you going to use the handcuffs on me?”

You roll your eyes and cannot help but laugh out at the change in Jimin’s demeanor or the way his voice drops a few tones. You cannot help but think about the idea of Jimin being the one whimpering for you, handcuffed so he couldn’t get his hands on you.

“Basic?” you hum. “How about we fit the theme then? We can both be cupids.” you wiggle your eyebrows. 

“Cupids? I’m not sure I trust a bitch like you with an arrow.” Jimin scoffs, but he does enjoy the idea. 

“My arrows won’t make you fall in love with me. They will make you feel other things.” you press the palm of your hand onto Jimin’s chest and allow it to linger for a moment, a glint in your eyes that causes Jimin to raise his brows. “Find the costumes.” you murmur, pushing him away a bit all the while your eyes remain on his.

“You’re such a teasing bitch, Y/N.” Jimin states, but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t anticipating it.

Leaving Jimin in charge of the costume meant that, for you, it was free of charge. It also meant he had full control of your attire and you were hoping it wouldn’t be too slutty.

At first, you weren’t sure about it when Jimin came at you with what appeared to be lingerie and a pair of wings for you to wear. “It’s red.” you had told him with a raise of an eyebrow.  “Isn’t it supposed to be, I don’t know, white?”

“White is too pure for a whore like you.” was Jimin’s response, followed by a smirk. He wouldn’t tell you that he thought red would look good on you underneath the neon lights at the party. He didn’t want to gas your already big head up.

So you wore the red fishnets followed by the lingerie of the same color. He even gave you lace gloves to wear, stopping right at your elbows. 

At first, you were nervous to wear something so revealing in public. Jimin had convinced you that when Taehyung meant slutty, he meant it truthfully.

“I got you these, too.” Jimin stated as you looked over yourself in your hallway mirror. Your eyes had connected with his through the reflection. He’s holding a black, rectangular box in his hands. “To go with your costume.”

You turned to face him now and he handed over the box. Your eyes scanned the small, silver letters right in the middle of said box. Saint Laurent. You then looked up towards the man who’s waiting for you to open said box.

The heels are more of a wine color than a red, but it wouldn’t be noticeable at the party. The YSL letters along the heel catch your eyes immediately and you feel your eyes widening.

“These must’ve been expensive.” you told him with a swallow. “So not only are you my bitch tonight, but you’re also my paypig?”

“They were expensive.” Jimin responded, a low smirk forming onto his lips. “I’m sure I’ll get my money’s worth tonight.”

Arriving at the party alongside Jimin, you understood now that he wasn’t lying. The lights are flashing and there’s smoke lining the ground so even if what you were wearing was too revealing, it didn’t particularly matter.

Jimin appeared more of a traditional cupid, dressed in a long white cloak - or chlamys he said because he was Jimin and he needed to correct you - gold wrist cuffs and a gold shoulder belt. He also has wings that match your own.

“Y/N!” Taehyung greets over the loud music. He’s holding two red cups in his hands. One he gives to you and the other to Jimin after he takes a sip of it. “You look amazing! Finally someone who gives slutty but classy.”

You smile at Taehyung a bit shyly. He turns to Jimin and furrows a brow at him before snickering. “Have fun you two.” he says, winking. “Nice heels, Y/N.”

Jimin takes a sip of his drink, his eyes glaring at his friend as he walks off. Taehyung wouldn’t tell you how Jimin bought the heels for you prior to you being invited to the Hallowtine’s party. Or how he insisted that they couldn’t be regular heels or nothing about him was “regular”.

“How drunk are you trying to get?” Jimin asks, downing the rest of the drink. It’s a mixture that only Jungkook would’ve made. If it was Namjoon, it would taste bitter and strong of alcohol and leave it up to Hoseok, it would just be juice.

“You drove so.” you shrug your shoulders. “I’m following your lead.”

Jimin smirks a bit. “These parties go on all night, Y/N. Tae lets me sleep in the guest room.”

You lift a brow but don’t respond. Instead, you do the same as he and down the remaining liquid in your drink.

The party goes on with you and him doing exactly that. You and him - and even some of his friends - take shots as if they’re water. You play games with them, majority of them you lost - much to Jimin’s dismay as you and he were partners. You dance, too, finding that the large space with dancing bodies to be exciting. Everyone was already drunk and it was hard to feel self-conscious when the liquor was making you outgoing and sociable.

You were in the middle of unwrapping a lollipop when Jimin stood beside you. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a furrowed brow. “You’ve been dancing with them for over 30 minutes non-stop.”

Them being Jungkook’s girlfriend and Chaeyoung, who were already drunk. You had to admit you had the most fun with them, even if Jungkook had to carry his girlfriend out. Or if Chaeyoung had decided to call it a night and nap in the kitchen - only because she didn’t want to miss out on who won best costume.

“And you’ve been watching the entire time?” you put the red, heart shaped lollipop in your mouth. “That’s not creepy.” you say sarcastically.

Jimin tilts his head. He isn’t sure where his friends have gone and he knows Taehyung has no intentions of announcing the winners yet. That being said, he was tipsy, horny and you were being too much of a bitch right now.

“Huh…” you look at Jimin a bit closer, squinting your eyes. Even underneath the flashing lights, the look in his eyes is highly evident. You reach a hand out to touch his slightly uncovered chest, the cloak hiding little of it. “...you must want to fuck me.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, even if it was the truth. “I hope you didn’t think those heels were free.” he retorts. 

You smirk, glossy lips shining underneath the neon lights. “Don’t worry, I’ll wear them just for you in my next video.” a finger swipe up from Jimin’s chest right to his lips. You tap them playfully before turning on your heels. 

“Where are you going?” Jimin huffs, his body flushed. His legs work on autopilot as he follows you. 

“We should go somewhere to be alone, shouldn’t we?” you ask as you reach the kitchen. The alcohol appeared never ending and it had to be a sign of wealth because who else could truly afford all of this alone? Not including decorations, food and a $1000 cash prize.

You grab a bottle of champagne and shrug your shoulders. No one would miss it. 

“Lead us to the guest room.”

“Upstairs.” Jimin says, jutting his head to the left where the staircase was at. “To the left, last door.”

Jimin wants you to lead the way just so he can watch you from behind. The wings compliments your costume, a sensual look that looks almost ethereal. The neon lights cast a glow off of you that his tipsy mind is angered with himself for finding you appealing. 

The heels make your legs appear longer, Jimin thinks. Even from the loud music, he swears he can hear them click onto the tiled floor.

The guest room is large, you note upon opening the door. It’s clean and organized with a single, queen size bed right in the middle of it. On either side of said bed has two night stands, both holding decorative lamps. Right above the headboard is an oval shaped mirror that reflects the neon lights that shine inside when the door opens.

“It’s quiet.” you note once Jimin closes the door. The music is loud outside and it offers a muffled version from inside the bedroom that’s soothing. “Champagne?” you turn to face Jimin, raising the bottle.

Jimin nods, his eyes on you.

“Sit down.” you press, jutting your head towards the bed. 

“Hm, demanding.” Jimin does as he’s told. He passes by your, his arm brushing past yours and he sits onto the edge of the bed. 

You pop open the champagne and a bit of it spills. Jimin is unphased by the action and continues to look right up at you. You step closer to him, lifting the bottle to your lips and taking a sip.

Jimin watches the way a bit of it trails from the corner of your mouth and falls down your jawline. He takes a deep breath as you come closer. Your gloved hand reaches out for him and latches underneath his chin. You gently lift it up, a thumb lightly tapping at his plump lips. You lift the bottle to them.

Opening his mouth, Jimin’s eyes never leave yours as you pour the champagne into his mouth. The bubbling liquid fizzles onto his tongue and he swallows it whole when you’re done. He licks his lips as if savoring the taste. 

Your touch underneath his chin is hot. Your hands roam towards his cheek, a thumb running along his lips as you tilt your head. For a man, Jimin did have such plump lips that never appeared to be chapped - a thought you hated.

“It must be killing you to sit here.” you murmur, standing right between his parted legs. One knee lifts a bit so that you press it against the bed and right between his legs. You furrow your brows when you feel it - the bulge. Sure, Jimin’s costume covered a bit of his lower half, but you weren’t expecting this so soon. “Excited already?”

“It’s the alcohol.” Jimin retorts, already willing to fight against you. It was going to take a few tries to get him to submit, but you were a patient person. After all, only you could do it. 

“Shut up.”

Your knee presses against Jimin a bit - not too hard, but enough to get the man to click his mouth shut. The expression on his face would cause you to laugh if you weren’t determined to remain in character.

“You,” you snort. The bottle of champagne tightening in your grip. You lower your face so that you and Jimin are eye to eye. “want to call me a bitch so bad, don’t you?”

Jimin does - not in a malicious way. He never truly does mean it in that way - nor does he even intend on you knowing this, either. 

Jimin remains silent, his eyes flickering to your lips for a mere second before back to your eyes. You’re so close to him, your knee not letting up as it continues to graze against his painfully hard cock. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, attempting to control his breathing.

“Kiss me.”

It’s an action that Jimin doesn’t fight you on. Your lips have a bit of gloss to them surprisingly. After all the shots, snacks and overall partying you’ve done. They’re sticky, but sweet; tasting of cherries that he knows he would want to get another taste of when this was done and over with.

You deepened the kiss, gloved hand not falling from his chin. It’s an act of possession and neither of you appeared to care. Soon, your tongue and his is dancing along one another, hot and needily. You can feel his cock pulsing pathetically against your knee.

Aggressively, you shove Jimin away from you. The action causes him to grunt and nearly hiss at you, but he bites his tongue. You notice the action immediately and hide your giddiness.

“More champagne?” you ask with a quirked brow.

Jimin nods.

“Cat got your tongue?” you question with a scoff. “Use your words, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eye twitches. “Yes.”

“Yes…?” you were having a bit too much fun with this. “Where are your manners?”

“Yes. Please.” Jimin grits out, his right leg shaking. He was holding himself back in berating you like he usually does - an action that never bothers you. It’s something that he’s familiar with. 

“Good boy.” you say with a smirk. Jimin is taken aback by your words - more so because it causes his cock to jolt immediately once it leaves your mouth. 

You press the champagne bottle to your own lips, eyes never leaving Jimin’s. Droplets begin to fall from the corners of your lips again, dropping directly to your chest. Without thinking much, you lift the bottle more, allowing a bit - not too much to be messy - to fall onto your chest.

“Go on.” you say.

Jimin dives in instantly, his warm tongue licking up the champagne from your skin. He groans to himself as he dips lower between your breast, a hand reaching out so all he had to do is push your lingerie-

SMACK!

Jimin’s head is jerked to the side, a stinging in his face.

You were getting bold, having too much fun with you being the one on top. “You didn’t have permission to touch me, right?”

A part of you expects Jimin to either 1, hit you back or 2, berate you like he always does. 

You didn’t expect Jimin’s head to slowly turn back towards you, eyes dark, and for him to say; 

“Sorry.” in such a low, voice. “Can I…touch you?”

Jimin’s voice is pleading that it shocks you for a moment and shoots straight to your core.

Slowly, you exhale. “What do you want to do?”

Jimin’s cheeks are flushed. He glances away and you can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek.

“I want to lick the champagne…off of you.” Jimin murmurs, cheeks a crimson color. “Please.”

Your lip twitches upwards. Slowly, you begin to repeat the action, this time placing your free hand behind Jimin’s head. He turns it back towards you as the champagne begins to slide down your breast, in his eyes slow motion.

Jimin’s mouth salivates and his eyes dart to yours, silently pleading. You nod your head and it doesn’t take Jimin much hesitation for his tongue to be right back on your skin. He licks the top of your breast, grunting at the taste before he dips his head lower. His hands work up your breast, tugging the lingering down so that they pool out of them. He doesn’t hesitate to engulf both of them into his hands and to suckle, the citrusy taste hitting his taste buds immediately.

You moan a bit at how starved Jimin appeared, suckling onto your breast as if his life depended on it. His hands squeezing the mounds as if they would disappear if he hadn’t. His eyes are closed, face stretched in utter bliss at being allowed to do this - to taste the champagne right from your breast. When the high (and alcohol) wears down, you were going to have to tease him about it.

Now, however, Jimin’s tongue continues to swirl onto your nipples with such needy greed, going from one to the other every few minutes. Your head is pushed back, moans releasing from your own parted lips, nearly forgetting just who was supposed to be in charge tonight. 

You couldn’t allow Jimin to regain control once more - not tonight when it was your night.

The hand that once kept Jimin against your chest entangles in his dark tresses and you yank him away from you. Jimin whines at the sudden action, but licks his lips when his eyes blinks open to look right at you.

“Too much?” Jimin quips. 

“You looked too happy.” you retort. “Can’t let you have too much fun.”

“Of course not. You’re a bitch.”

Jimin is taunting you, wanting to see what you’d do. Maybe pull his hair or slap him again. He never did that before - or expected to like it as much. Maybe doing this with someone you hate (maybe that was a strong word, he didn’t hate you truly) made it more fun.

“You talk too much.” you shove Jimin’s head away. You drop the bottle of champagne beside you before grabbing hold of the cloak Jimin was wearing and tugging it. It flies off of him, leaving him in his underwear. You quirk a brow. “And you call me a whore.”

A shiver runs through Jimin but he doesn’t allow it to dwell. He watches the way your face brightens.

“Lay down.”

Jimin does, eyes blinking towards the ceiling. He can hear the way your heels click against the floor. The bed has movement and it dips as you begin to climb it - climb onto him. Your gloved hands roam his chest and Jimin rolls his neck a bit.

“There’s only one way to shut a whore up.” you say, before dropping yourself onto Jimin’s face, clit right against his lips. He’s shocked, but would be lying if he didn’t find the action entirely hot.

Jimin understands just what he was meant to do in this situation, hot tongue flinging out to roam your wet clit. Your thighs cage him between your legs, right hand gripping his hair tightly. Instantly, his own hands hold onto your outer thighs, tongue plunging between your folds.

Jimin recalls the many times he’s watched you - live or during recorded videos you’ve uploaded - fuck yourself. How wet your pussy was. Even then, it caused his mouth to water at the thought of how good you might've tasted against his tongue. How he could have you quivering if he’d ever get the chance to. The last time he’s tasted you was months ago and he could never get enough; not even now.

Your stomach churns as Jimin’s tongue continues to devour you effortlessly. Your attempt to shut him up did exactly that with little push back. Your hips buckle a bit, wanting to feel more of Jimin’s willing tongue against your clit, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin was such an asshole - a cocky one at that. He knew how attractive he was. How intelligent and cunning he was. He understood every assignment, inside the classroom and out. It’s why you and he budded heads so often.

“S-stop.” you stutter, but Jimin doesn’t. He knows fully that you don’t want him to stop and neither does your pussy. His head, pushed firmly against the bed, rocks back and forth as his tongue lays flat against your clit. His eyes flicker open to look at your scrunched, familiar face to know you were about to cum all over his tongue. A taste he craved for.

You cum, must to your dismay, all over Jimin. You’re highly upset with yourself for allowing him to get you distracted enough that it happens. You choose to take said irritation out on him.

You push yourself away from Jimin, eyes dark. “You’re such a whore, Jimin. So greedy for my pussy that you’d do anything to have it.” 

You push yourself away from Jimin, the man licking his lips seductively. 

“You’re right.” Jimin says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve missed your pussy.”

Your eyes widen a bit, not expecting him to admit it.

“I’ll never admit it in front of anyone.” Jimin murmurs, squinting his eyes to you. “I’ll continue to belittle you in front of everyone. I hate you.”

Your walls clench and you’re truly unsure how that makes you a bit horny.

“You hate me?” you say, amused. You lowered yourself so that you’re right in front of his clothed cock. You place a hand on it and it immediately jolts.

“No.” Jimin shakes his head, stomach churning at the sudden touch. “That’s also a lie. I hate the way you make me feel.”

Jimin must’ve been drunk or more than just the alcohol. 

“You’re the only person that successfully manages to come toe to toe with me in everything.” Jimin licks his lips once more, your taste still on him. 

You blink a few times. “Hm.” is all you say and without warning, you take out Jimin’s cock. It’s erect and pink - and oh so pretty. The tip is oozing with pre-cum that you just want to lick up. “Tell me more.”

Jimin swallows when he watches you take off your gloves and throw them aside. You wrap a hand around his cock.

“You,”

Jimin doesn’t get to say much because he watches you lay your tongue out to allow a trail of saliva to drop onto his tip. It trails down the shaft until it reaches your cuffed hand. You slide your enclosed palm up and down to lubricate his cock.

“-oh fuck.” Jimin groans.

“Speak or I’ll stop.” you warn, eyes hard. 

Jimin swallows again. “I-I,” he begins just as you begin to jack his cock. “...I don’t hate you, Y/N.” he repeats, but understands that he can’t have you stop now that you’re making him feel so good. “I…I hate myself for being so consumed by…fuck…by you.”

More words that shoot directly to your core. Jimin was oddly hot now, eyes squeezed shut while you forced a…confession out of him?

“Arguing with you is the only way I know how to express myself around you.” God, Jimin thinks. You weren’t making anything easy for him. 

Your tongue flickers against his tip and nearly laughs when Jimin flinches.

“Keep. Talking.” you grit, tongue twirling around his tip like you’ve done to the lollipop earlier.

“You know what the fuck you’re doing!” Jimin hisses, head lifting with hazy eyes as he catches suckle right onto the tip of his cock. “You’re…such a bitch, Y/N.” he groans, head slamming back against the bed. “And you drive me fucking crazy…you and those damn videos. I’ve watched you squirt more times than I can fucking count.”

“Good boy.”

Your mouth takes Jimin whole now, deciding maybe it was time to stop teasing him. He was being so good, after all. A completely sober and not so horny Jimin would’ve never admitted these things. 

Jimin whimpers, you calling him a ‘good boy’ just makes this situation worse (better). Your mouth is so warm and wet, fully devoted to now cater to him; even if it is just for a moment. You take him entirely into your throat, then lift up so that only his tip is in your mouth. You repeat the action, each time sucking even harder. A hand wraps around his shaft so that you can jack him as you come up.

“Your mouth feels so good.” Jimin whines, hand itching to touch you but he doesn’t want you to stop. “You’re so good at this, fuck,” Jimin groans. “you’re so good at everything.”

It must’ve hurt him to say that, you think as you continue to suckle onto his cock. Satisfaction flows through you as Jimin continues to babble on, intoxicated on more than just the alcohol.

Your mouth pops Jimin’s cock out from your lips, saliva pooling out along with it. 

Jimin shudders, chest heaving at how you stopped so abruptly.

“Who knew you felt this way.” you tease, a hand wrapping around his wet, hard cock. “When you sober up, I’ll have so much material to tease you on.”

Jimin knows this just as much as you do.

“If I didn’t know better…you’d be admitting to liking me.”

Only teasing him, of course. You would never believe that Jimin would like you outside of sexual encounters you and he share. But you did enjoy teasing him about what he has admitted to you.

“Would that be bad?” wasn’t what you were expecting from Jimin. If anything, it wouldn’t even be on your list of responses from the man.

Would that be bad?

Would it?

Well - no. It wouldn’t be bad, but weird. You and Jimin went at one another's neck so much that most people that knew you expected it. They waited for you to pipe in whenever Jimin spoke and vice versa. The tension between you two in the beginning slowly turned to something sexual; mainly because of Jimin watching you.

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Jimin doesn’t expect you to truly. Your words were true, you would tease him on end when this was said and over with and he’d do what he does best - talk shit, deny and deflect. 

“I’m going to sit on your cock.” you say randomly. “I’m going to fuck it until I cum.”

Jimin gulps, nodding his head feverishly. “Okay.” he says, voice dropping a few tones. “I want you to use my cock as you like.”

Fuck, you think. Pussy drunk Jimin was something else - so submissive with little to say besides complying. You could get used to this.

You climb onto Jimin, kicking off the heels you just realized you were still wearing. You’re facing him, Jimin notices, when you hover above him. You sit onto his cock slowly, pussy clenching until he’s fully inside of you.

Jimin’s hands dig into the sheets, lungs filling with air.

Satisfaction runs through you witnessing Jimin being so fucked out. You know how he felt when you were his bitch and you had to admit that it felt amazing. 

You rise and fall on Jimin’s cock, legs widening to assure he had a perfect view of it all. Jimin finds it hard to watch you, his mind flickering to the countless times he’s watched you through his phone screen. The way you’d fuck yourself with your dildo, rising and falling just the same way. Your face morphing to a one of pleasure, wet pussy dripping with lustful arousal…

Jimin groans, a hand reaching out to touch your clit. He cannot believe just how wet you were, thumb rubbing along your clit. 

“Your pussy’s so…” Jimin shakes his head, exhaling. “...pretty and wet.”

“You sound like the simp you always call Jungkook.”

Jimin snickers, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, since you allow it, he continues to twirl his thumb around your clit.

“I want you to cum all over me.” Jimin murmurs. It isn’t demanding in the slightest. It’s pleading. His eyes are begging. “I want you cum all over my cock like you do with your dildo.”

A whimper releases from your throat, eyes widening slightly. Your hips roll onto Jimin’s cock, wishing he would just shut up - but no, he didn’t.

“I don’t even have to cum.” Jimin groans, looking seconds from doing just that. The thought of being used by you as if he was your own personal fuck toy was highly exciting. He’s watched you for so long - the amount of times he came just by you squirting was too much to count.

“You’re so obsessed with me, Jim Jim.” you giggle, head falling back to let out a quick whine. “This pussy has you wasting thousands on heels.”

“It’s not wasting if you have it, Y/N.” Jimin’s hands roam up to grip your breast. His stomach churns with you squeezing around his cock.

“I know you want to cum.” you quip, this time slamming your hands onto his shoulders to push him back. You continue to rise and fall onto his cock sloppily. “Cum with me since I’m feeling nice.”

You also wanted to feel him cum inside of you; to watch the way his face would turn to one of pure ecstasy.

Jimin’s hands catch hold of your hips as you pound right on top of him. Your lips were centimeters from his and you contemplate kissing him, but decide against it. You didn’t want to appear like you were thinking about the plumpness of his lips; how full and tinted they were or-

Jimin presses his lips against yours as he cums, splashing your walls with warm cum and you’re cumming right along with him, hips quivering. The kiss is deep, neither of you breaking apart for a long, long moment.

Your forehead lies against his, panting when your lips finally detach from his. You fall beside him and groan.

Jimin breathes heavily. “You okay?”

You nod your head slightly. “Yeah. You?”

Jimin was asking himself the same thing. He was going to feel the full effects of it tomorrow.

“Yeah.” Jimin answers truthfully. “Do you…want to go back to the party?” he asks awkwardly. The music is faint from behind the door. “I don’t think we won best costume.”

“Why?” you turn to face him. It wasn’t like you were expecting to truthfully. “I thought our costumes were great!”

“Of course it was.” Jimin snickers. “It’s us.” he says, and then blinks - because he actually said “us” instead of “me”. He was including you along with him - and you notice just as he does, a smirk forming onto your lips. “Tae would never let me win a contest. Even if it was rightfully won.”

You hum out a response. That was fair. It wasn’t like he needed the reward.

“This Hallowtine’s party was actually fun.” you place a hand onto Jimin’s naked chest. Your fingers tap softly. “I should thank Taehyung for inviting me.”

Jimin remains silent. He doesn’t tell you that Taehyung invited you because Jimin couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t say that to his friend, but he didn’t have to. Taehyung could see it for himself. 

“Are you staying here tonight?” you question once the silence settles. “I can take a lyft-”

“Dressed like that?” Jimin scoffs with a raised eyebrow. He raises to a seated position. “That sounds absurd.”

“Ah, so you do care.” you tease, batting your eyelashes at him. “And here I thought you were just pussy talking.”

Jimin feels his cheeks flush, but he wasn’t going to go back and forth with you now.

“We can stay here.” Jimin says with a glance. “Or, I can take you home.”

“Hm…it depends. If I go home, will you come?” you were being bold enough to ask. “The night isn’t over, Jim Jim. You’re still technically my bitch.”

Ungodly Hour Masterlist

[haihoneys]

Pool Party Fun Times

Summary: San is getting really tired of this cat-and-mouse game he’s been playing with Y/N. Little does he know, she’s fed up too. What’s going to happen when they each decide they’re going to make a move at their mutual friend’s pool party?

Word Count: 3,763

Pairing: Choi San x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut - reader is a ✨screamer✨, mention of blood (bitten lip), barely proofread (im defs high editing this oops), unprotected sex (pls be smart)

A/N: this is set in the same universe as If The Heavens Ever Did Speak and Afternoon Delight. you don’t have to read those to read this, though!! just thought i would mention it hehe. if you wanna get really specific… it actually happens the same day as Afternoon Delight… its the same party 👀

——

The first time they met, San found himself drawn to her. She just had this magnetism about her that seemed to always keep him in her orbit. From the second Yeosang, a long-time friend of her’s apparently, introduced them to one another at a listening party San was just…enamored. She was all twinkling eyes and bright smiles, fluttering lashes and breathy laughs. 

Since then, she’d been popping up randomly in his world.

Two days after the listening party, they ran into each other at a cafe. A week after that, he was picking up some takeout from his favorite chicken place and all but ran into her as she was leaving the same restaurant. The very next day, as he was leaving the dance practice, he saw her from across the street as she was exiting a cab. 

San smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughed and called her name. Y/N whipped around, shock coloring her features as she searched for the stranger calling for her. He jogged across the street, huffing another chuckle as he stopped before her. 

“We really need to stop running into each other like this.”

She laughed and nodded her agreement, reaching out a hand to rest on his bicep.  

The gentle touch had him biting down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from sighing and leaning closer to her.

“Yeah, we definitely do,” she smiled up at him, and to his horror, she pulled her hand away to hoist her bag up higher on her shoulder. “I actually have a meeting I need to get to. But, here, let me see your phone?”

San immediately started fumbling for his phone, patting at his pockets until he found the device. He unlocked it before placing it in her waiting palm. Y/n pulled out her own phone, swiping until she open… Snapchat… of all things and opened up her profile to show the qr code. She found the same app on his phone and opened it up, scanning the code to add her as a ‘friend.’ 

She made a satisfied little hmph sound as she locked his phone and handed it back to him. “Ooh, the request came through! Let me accept it before I head to my meeting.”

And they had been dancing around each other ever since, skirting just on the edge of flirting.

A shirtless, post-workout gym selfie from San. A shot of her legs in a bubble bath in response. 

A reply to his story complimenting his new haircut. A little video showing off said haircut as he thanked her.

Nothing too overt, but at the same time… it wasn’t just nothing.

They were both aware of the mutual attraction, of the suggestiveness of some of their photos and messages. But neither of them were making any real moves towards the other.

That is, until they were thrown into a group chat together with all their friends and invited to a pool party to celebrate the start of the summer.

Their phones pinged at the same time from opposite sides of the city: Y/N tucked into her cozy apartment and San in the back of an SUV on his way back to the dorms from the studio.

That was it. That was the opportunity they needed. This party would be the perfect time to make a move.

Of course, both of them choked when the day came. Offering up only shy hellos and timid waves when they saw each other.

In San’s defense though, she just looked too fucking good. When he saw her in the low-cut summer dress, nipples poking through the thin fabric, he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to adjust his semi-hard cock in his jeans.

He spent the rest of the afternoon making eyes at her from across the pool deck, not bothering to hide the fact or even deny it when Wooyoung giggled about it.

And she was sending those looks right back to him! He swore she was fluttering her long eyelashes at him, too. And maybe he started to think about how she would look up at him when she was on her knees for him… about how she’d take him down her throat and - 

A beach ball came soaring across the deck and smacked him on the forehead. He stood there, a bit dazed, as he snapped out of his thoughts.

Wooyoung was doubled over, laughing so hard he was near tears, trying to choke out an apology. San huffed and rolled his eyes, picking the pool toy up and hurling it back at Wooyoung.

San smiled at the dull thwack! as it made contact with the side of his head.

“Ow!” Wooyoung gasped, hand flying to rub at his head. “No way it hit you that hard!” 

“Serves you right, brat,” San shrugged. Honestly, it was probably for the best with the way his thoughts were spiraling just seconds ago. 

San eventually found himself behind the outdoor bar, playing bartender much to the delight of his friends. Yunho and Mingi’s cheering for him caught Y/N’s attention from across the deck, her focus pulling away from the boys’ makeup artist to land on the rowdy trio. 

She excused herself at the first lull in the conversation, claiming she needed another drink despite the nearly full seltzer she was nursing, and seated herself at the far end of the bar. 

San turned toward her, leaning back against the counter behind him as he tossed the towel he was using to dry his hands over his shoulder. He crosses his thick arms and Y/N’s eyes locked in on the corded muscles and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about him pinning her down and - 

“What can I getcha miss?”

His question brought her back to reality, her cheeks and ears heating as he stared her down.

‘He knows’ she thought ‘he absolutely, 100% knows that I was just thinking about him pinning me to the bed upstairs.’ 

“Um,” she stuttered, suddenly nervous under the weight of his intense gaze. “Surprise me.” 

The left corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk as he uncrossed his arms and turned away from her. He began pouring various mixers and liquors into a shaker before slapping the top on and shaking the concoction. Y/N watched him and nearly moaned at the way the toned muscles in his shoulders and back flexed and moved under his white t-shirt as he went about the task. 

Yeosang just so happened to pass behind her and reached up to tug on a lock of her hair to get her attention. Y/N hummed, barely acknowledging her friend, and Yeosang chuckled under his breath.

“Close your mouth. You’re starting to drool,” he teased before walking off again. 

Y/N swatted at him as he went, mumbling for him to hush because she was busy watching a ‘show.’ 

San scooped some ice into a glass and poured the mixture over it, making a show of licking the fingers of his right hand as he slid her the drink with his left. He leaned forward onto the bar, and the muscles of his arms shifted again. He noted Y/N’s eyes following his movements, and he smirked.

“Let me know what you think.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” She reached for the glass, making sure to just barely brush the tips of her fingers against his forearm as she did. She kept her eyes locked on his as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.

“I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.” 

Y/N choked and spluttered on her drink, the heat returning to her cheeks. She looked up at him when she finally caught her breath, ready to spew something about how the drink had just gone down the wrong way. But when her eyes locked on his face again he was giving her the biggest shit eating grin and something clicked into place.

She realized he had been torturing her on purpose. Well, two could play at that game, she supposed. 

She leaned forward onto the bar, purposefully crossing her arms under her tits so they were pushed up practically in his face. She gave herself an extra point in their little game when she noticed his eyes dip down to her cleavage. He flicked his eyes back up to meet hers, his mouth opening to say something clever, to try to fluster her again. So she beat him to the punch.

“Hmm.. I bet I could top it.”

San cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her. “Is that so?” 

Y/N hummed in affirmation and took another sip of her drink. This time, she had to bite back her cringe as the alcohol actually made contact with her taste buds. It was atrocious; nail polish remover probably would have gone down smoother than the literal poison he had given her.

But she smiled, her best attempt at coy, and slid off the bar stool without another word, making sure to put a little emphasis in the sway of her hips as she made her way to the sliding door that led directly into the sunroom of the house. 

It was one of those cliche-as-fuck moments where San thought “damn I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave”. 

He was still leaned over the bar, trying to give her at least a few minutes of a head start so everyone still gathered around the pool and bar wouldn't immediately know what they were about to get up to.

The last shred of his willpower flew out the window, though, when she made it to the door and looked over her shoulder at him. She grinned like she knew she had him in the palm of her hand.

And to be fair, she did. 

San pushed off the bar and, as casually as he could, walked towards the door she’d just disappeared through. He found her in the sunroom leaning against the sideboard that was pressed directly under the window, back to the door as she played on her phone.

He stepped behind her and wrapped an arm around her from behind, one hand splaying across her lower tummy as she discarded her phone. San leaned in and moved the hair from her neck and shoulder before leaning in and pressing a kiss just beneath her ear. 

“You thought you were cute out there, huh?”

She could feel the smirk he pressed into the skin of her neck, and then all of the bravado she had worked up was suddenly gone as she practically melted into his touch.

“Bet you thought you had the upper hand all day…Just flouncing around in this flimsy little dress.”

His hands started to wander, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they slid from her hips, up her abdomen to cup and squeeze at her tits. “Not wearing a fucking bra… bet you aren’t wearing panties either, are you?” San laughs, and it’s a sardonic, almost cruel sound.

He pinched at one of her nipples and involuntarily bucked into her when she whimpered and arched into his touch. He slid a hand up further so he could grasp her neck, turning her head towards him just a bit so he could see her pretty face. 

“What if I’m not?” She was breathless as she said it, the anticipation, the want, evident in her tone.

She was clenching her thighs together, trying for any sort of friction, for any sort of relief. San laughed again and dropped the hand that was still on her chest back to her hip. He started to grab and bunch the fabric there, hiking her dress up just enough to slip his hand under the hem.

Y/N whimpered as his fingers brushed over her thighs, tracing shapes and patterns so close yet so far from where she truly wanted him. She was ready to beg for it, the plea on the tip of her tongue when he finally, blessedly moved his hand between her thighs and slid his fingers through her folds. 

He pulled his hand away and held it up in front of their faces, the setting sun shining through the window and reflecting off the sticky wetness on his fingers. 

“You’re being a tease,” she breathed out, chest heaving. 

San laughed and Y/N was beginning to hate the sound and how it made her pussy clench and ache for him. She turned in his grip and watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean.

He groaned at the taste of her. He was going to spend a long, long time between her thighs. He wanted to fucking drink her and all she had to give him. 

Then he was kissing her, hands in the hair at the base of her skull and pulling just hard enough to guide her where he wanted her. She could still taste herself on his tongue and it was driving her fucking insane, her head swimming.

The primal urge to tear into each other was palpable. The kiss was all clashing teeth and bitten lips, wet and sticky with spit and a bit of blood from a bite that was just a bit too hard. San pulled away a fraction, his pupils blown wide as he stared her down. 

Y/N zoned in on the drop of blood on his lip and gasped. “Fuck! I’m so sorry…oh my god… I didn’t realize I was going that crazy.”

She was speaking a mile a minute, rambling and apologizing profusely, and San cut her off with another searing kiss. 

“What’s pleasure without a bit of pain?” He walked them backwards as he said it, his hands still tangled in her hair.

He eased them down onto the daybed at the back of the room, pulling her into his lap and rucking her dress back up around her hips so she could straddle him.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to keep her comfort at the top of his priorities. 

“God, yes,” she breathed out and went back in for another kiss, licking into his mouth like she wanted to imprint the taste of him in her own mouth. Y/N started grinding down onto him, the fly of his jeans and the hardness of his cock providing the most delicious friction against her clit.

He moaned into her mouth, strong hands on her hips, dragging her back and forth over his lap until she was whimpering and whining for him. San kissed at the corner of her mouth and murmured to her, “You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum just from humping me like this, baby?” 

She whined and nodded her head frantically, her voice fully gone, the pressure building and building in her lower belly until her toes were curling and stars were bursting behind her eyelids. San hummed below her, hands still pushing and pulling at her as she started to writhe above him, riding out her high.

San watched her, in rapture, as she lost herself to the pleasure. He wanted to burn the sight into the backs of his eyelids so he could conjure it up the next time he found himself alone and wanting.

“I need you inside me right now or I might fucking die.”

That might be the hottest thing he’d ever heard. 

She lifted herself onto her knees - there was just enough space between them to allow her to fumble with his pants and help him shimmy them down his thick thighs. She almost started salivating at the sight of his cock slapping up against his abdomen, heavy and swollen and already leaking precum. 

“Can’t have that now, can we?” He tried to joke, but his laugh was cut off by a guttural groan as she sank down onto him. The wet, molten heat of her might just be heaven, his own personal nirvana. He honestly thought he could live there, buried to the hilt in her pretty little cunt.

Then she started rocking against him and moaning his name, and San nearly came undone at the sound. He gripped at her hips, fingers pressing marks that would surely turn to bruises, and picked her up just enough to give him room to fuck up into her.

The angle was damn near perfect, she could feel every ridge and vein of him, could feel the tip of his cock kissing against her cervix. Her head fell back as she moaned at a particularly well-placed thrust, leaving her throat exposed to him. And San took full advantage of it.

He leaned forward and attached his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Biting down until she whined - he was starting to think that high-pitched, needy little noise was going to become one of his favorite sounds - before he laved over the quickly reddening mark with his tongue to soothe the sting of pain. 

She was clawing at his arms and shoulders, nails raking down his skin, and he hissed at the sharp bite of it. But he loved it. Loved that she was marking him up, putting her claim on him in such a visible way. Just as he had done to her. 

Suddenly, he was flipping them, and she squealed, arms flying up to wrap around his neck. San never lost his momentum though, fucking into her with even more force thanks to the new angle and leverage. He buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking new marks onto the column of her throat.

“Fuckkkk,” he groaned into her, pressing the curse into her skin between the kisses, “you feel so fucking good.” 

Words were lost to her at that point; her eyes rolled back in her head as he slammed into her over and over again. She was whimpering and keening beneath him, her hands tangled in and tugging at his hair as he kept pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

San slipped his own hand between them, effortlessly finding her swollen clit. It was a bit clumsy at first, but he steadied himself quickly, drawing tight little circles over her. He sped up his thrusts, and the force of it had them sliding over the edge of the bed.

He was somehow clear-headed enough to thank god that the daybed was low. Practically just cushions on the floor already, so neither of them ended up hurt when they fully slid to the floor.

Y/N didn’t even seem to notice the shift, pupils blown wide, and cheeks flushed. She looked so fucked out that he thought he might could cum just from the look on her face. From knowing that it was him that put that look there. He set back to rubbing at her clit, determined to make her cum again.

“Can you cum for me again, baby? I need you to cum for me… c’mon and give it to me, yeah?

She didn’t need words to answer him, her body taking over and doing it for her as her pussy clamped down so tight around him that he couldn’t fucking move.

The blinding ecstasy ripped through her, and she screamed his name as her vision fully whited out. She was clinging to him like she might slip away from the earth if he wasn’t there tethering her to it, arms thrown around his shoulders and legs hooked over his hips.

San slapped a hand over her mouth, torn between relishing in the fact that he was the one making her scream like that and being worried about everyone just on the other side of the window being able to hear them. 

He swore to himself that next time, he would make sure they were fully alone. That they had all the privacy they needed so she could be as loud as she wanted. So he would be able to hear all those pretty sounds at full volume.

San knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, the fluttering of her cunt around him and the muffled whines she was making from behind his hand were sending him barreling towards his own climax.

He quickly pulled out, sitting back on his calves, his hand flew over his cock as he gave himself a few pumps. San moaned as he came, hot ropes of cum spilling onto her lower belly. 

She was still trembling through her aftershocks as she hummed and brought her fingers to the mess, swirled them around before bringing them to her lips and licking them clean. The menace made sure to keep her gaze locked on his as she did it, moaning at the taste of him as he watched her slack-jawed.

“Didn’t think it was fair that you got to taste me and I didn’t get to taste you.”

San snorted as he rolled to the side of her, flinging his arm over his face. “Keep looking at me like that and saying shit like that and you’ll definitely be tasting me soon.”

Y/N laughed, and it had him giggling in turn. San wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, pressing soft kisses to her temple. They gave themselves a few moments to fully catch their breaths before they decided they should clean up and head back out to the party before their friends came looking for them.

He needed to find her something clean to wear and offer to have her dress dry cleaned. He told her as much, but she waved him off, telling him not to worry about it. 

San leaned against the doorframe and watched as she tried her best to tame her hair into something remotely presentable. 

“By the way,” he started, “You’re really loud. I was sure someone was going to come in here thinking I was killing you or something.”

Y/N flushed and looked away from him, embarrassed that he had brought it up after the fact. “Sorry… I get so caught up I can’t really help it…”

San paused, head tilting to the side and grinning softly at her.

“I never said it was a bad thing. Or that I didn’t like it. In fact,” He took a step forward, just close enough to be able to settle a hand on her hip, the other cupping her cheek. “I plan on hearing those sounds again. And seeing just how loud you can get."

——

Tag List:

 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ a quiet love ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ james potter x shy!reader ୨୧ not all love was like the movies portrayed them, but that doesn't mean it isn't good a/n: (1.9k words) happy valentines day!

Honestly you two getting together shocked everyone, even James himself was surprised you agreed to date him. You both were polar opposites, he was loud and outgoing while you were quiet and shy.

You both did have things in common though, like your kind hearts, your infectious humor and your Transfiguration class. Which coincidentally was how you both met.

You'd been failing behind on the assignments and Professor McGonagall assigned James to tutor you just until your grade rose a little higher.

You both agreed to meet at the far back upper level of the library. You were so sure he would bail. It wasn't hard to hear about James Potter and his troublemaker friends around school. But he'd showed up, on time and with a set of notes and books for you both to look over.

Everytime you think back to those early study sessions you cringe at your past self. It would've been easier to talk to a startled turtle. The most you said was a swift 'see you later' once the session had ended.

But that never deterred James. If anything it seemed to push him to get past your walls. He was nothing but patient and kind while explaining the Flobberworm to Fritter incantation all the way to explaining the Bird-Conjuring Charm and everything in between.

Eventually you did warm up to him. Your quiet word responses turned to shy short sentences. Then by the time you were passing Transfiguration with flying colors you and James were able to laugh and joke together.

Once the study lessons were over, he invited you to Hogsmeade with him the following weekend. No one had ever tried asking you before and you'd only gone there once with the second year tour, so you were very excited to go, and with such a good-looking boy too. You were over the moon!

The weekend trips became a regular every two week deal between you both. As well as Friday afternoons you both would study in your old spot in the library together.

After a few months of this sweet routine, one Friday the library was cleaned as someone threw a smoke bomb or three inside, which stained the walls and floors with multicolored powder. James had sworn to you it wasn't him but you caught that gleam in his eyes and shook your head in dismay.

He'd offered to study in his dorm, he said him and his friends found a way to disenchant the staircase when they needed to, you chose not to think too hard on the reason why.

He'd led you to the Gryffindor common room which unsurprisingly was styled in red and gold. You both passed fellow students sitting in the red couches that were placed around the fireplace, and past the students sat by the tall windows at desks. Thankfully both groups of your peers were engrossed in their gossip or studies to pay attention to the rule breaking happening in front of them. Or maybe they were used to James breaking the rules.

James flicked his wand and the winding staircase shimmered a silver colour and he ushered you up quickly. As you reached the top of the stairs you were met with a long hallway with two brown doors, one on each side. You looked back and the stairs had stopped shimmering and James pointed to the end of the hallway.

At the end of the hallway were two sets of staircases, the left staircase spiraled down and the right side staircase spiraled up. He gently directed you to the right staircase. Thankfully this time not needing to be enchanted. At the top the next level was the same setup as the previous floor. He pointed you to the door on the right.

As you approached the wooden door you could faintly hear muggle music playing from inside. He scooted past you and opened the door for you dramatically. You entered and took in the chaotic room.

A large square rug took up most of the floor, it was red and gold with the Gryffindor crest on it. Sitting down on the rug leaning against the wooden bedframe sat Remus, with a thick book in his hands.

Four beds pushed against each corner of the room, in between each horizontal bed was two chests on either side of the room. The chests seemed to act as dressers, two tidy and neat while the other two looked like a clothes tornado ran through it.

At the opposite wall of you, was two long windows with two desks in front of it and a third in between the gap. Two of the desks had books and papers stacked on and around them. The last desk was occupied by a blonde boy who you recognized as Peter. He was hunched over the wooden desk scribbling something on a sheet of paper.

The walls were littered with muggle posters of bands and singers, along with various quidditch players. A record player was blaring a muggle song you hadn't heard before from the right corner bedside.

Lying flat on his stomach on the farthest right bed was Sirius. Of course it was his music playing, you thought with a small smile. James had told you about his friends before formally meeting them, not like you hadn't observed them when running from different Professors.

Sirius was the only one to look up. His pretty eyes met yours.

"Well, isn't this a delightful surprise?" His teasing voice lifted over the music. He quickly sat up, leaning over the record player and turned it down slightly.

"What's a doll like you hanging around ol' Jamie?" His playful smirk widened as you felt your face warm in embarrassment. James had warned you about this.

"Oi, piss off we're studying" James' loud voice held no real heat to them which eased you greatly.

"Ah, 'studying' sure. Uh-huh. You want us to leave you two love birds alone then?" Sirius said very theatrically. If your face was warm before, it was burning now. You could almost feel the heat waves bouncing off you. You hoped no one could tell.

Remus looked up from his seat on the floor. "What're you studying?"

You looked down in surprise, you'd almost forgot he was there. It was even more surprising he was looking at you when he asked. You gulped.

"Transfiguration and Potions" You fumbled out, you felt victorious that you hadn't stuttered through it.

"I have some notes from Potions class if you need it" He said softly before returning to his book. You realized he was shifting the subject away from Sirius and his teasing. How sweet.

"Thanks Moony" James walked and flicked through the papers scattered on one of the free desks before muttering something to Peter that made him start to scribble faster and pick up a bigger textbook. James grabbed a handful of notes and showed you to the closed bed to the door on the left. He sat leaned against the pillows while you sat with your back against the wall.

He handed you Remus' notes and started opening up the textbooks.

You often thought back to that day, and how nervous you were to befriend James in the first place. You often laughed about it. Right now you were on your way to those exact dorms.

James had taught you the spell to make it easier to visit their dorm whenever you needed to. You used the well used spell and made your way up towards their room.

The four boys were scattered around the room when you entered. James' smile widened at the sight of you.

"Love! I was just thinkin' about you" He practically sang from where he laid on his bed.

"When aren't you?" Sirius snorted from his spot on his bed, where he read a muggle magazine with his head hanging off his bed.

"Sorry sweetie but I'm not here for you just yet" You walked past James' bed straight towards his neighbor where Remus sat with a notebook in his hand writing away.

James made a dramatic gasp, his cries echoed around the room. In what he'd call 'utter dismay' which was what you'd call a hilarious performance.

"Hi Remus" You smiled sweetly at him, trying to batter your eyelashes at him.

"Hi flower" He smirked, knowing what you were doing he leaned into his trunk roof pocket and pulled out some of his famous chocolate.

You giggled, "Thank you!" You childishly ran back towards James' bed and flopped down next to him while guarding your precious sweets from him.

"What the hell?" Sirius's head whipped up so fast you almost winced for him.

"How'd you do that?" Peter practically whined out from where he sat in his bed munching on Fudge Flies and Jelly Slugs while studying.

"This is blatant favoritism!" Sirius now kneeled on his bed, waving his hands around while James fell back onto his pillows laughing loudly.

"This isn't funny, do you have any idea how long it took to bribe him for some? all she had to do was ask!" Sirius wailed. Remus hid his chuckles behind his notebook.

"I guess I'm just the favourite, huh Sirius?" You teased from the safety of James' bed.

Sirius scoffed flopping backwards into his bed.

"I liked you better when you were quiet" He grumbled into his pillow which he'd placed over his head.

You turned around to face James. His cheeks were flushed from all his laughter and his glasses were slightly wonky. You reached and corrected their position on his pretty face. He gently smiled at you.

“Hi” He whispered, his eyes tracing your face with a warmth that left you giddy.

“Hi there” You whispered back with a giggle.

He lovingly kissed your cheek, then moved to your temple, then above your eyebrow. Which made you giggle. He kissed the bridge of your nose. He kissed you only just missing your lips with a soft laugh.

Kissing James never felt like fireworks or a spark, it felt soft and warm like a beloved blanket keeping you safe from the cold.

“We’re supposed to be studying” You gave a half-suppressed laugh.

“Mhm, yeah but that’s not as interesting as you are Love” He teased with a playful smirk.

“Ya know we can still hear you right? It’s revolting” Sirius chimed in, loudly expressing his concerns.

James reached behind him, lifting his pillow from behind him he threw it across the room hitting Sirius straight in the face.

Both you and Peter cracked up at Sirius’ briefly stunned face.

“This is war Prongs” Sirius said rather seriously, ironically.

“You’re on Pads” James narrowed his eyes and grabbed the last pillow left on his bed and hopped up.

Both boys raced towards each other in a very heated pillow fight. James kept aiming for Sirius’ hair, which wasn’t taken well. Sirius aimed for James' legs in hopes of knocking him over.

“They’ll be at it for awhile” Remus sighed, like this was a regular occurrence which it probably was you though. 

Remus placed his notebook back into his trunk and pulled out even more of his sweet chocolate. Remus looked between you and Peter with an unspoken question.

You and Peter ran and jumped on Remus’ bed, and he shared his chocolate between you three as you all watched the two doofus’ battle each other.

[yandere-sins]

Cake Surprise

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! I'm glad to be able to do specials again, so this year I worked on an idea I had for a while! Unspecified yandere, too, so you can imagine whoever you want! :D Hope you enjoy it ♥

Characters: Male!Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Food Sabotage, Feeding body fluids), Pathetic Yandere, Stalking, Forced Isolation, Pretending to be a friend, Long Post

Valentine's Day had never been his favorite day.

Why? Sharing a birthday with an official holiday just sucked. The gifts were generic merchandise catered to the holiday—all pink and cute and strawberry scented—and most people were too busy to celebrate on his actual birthday since they were doing couple stuff. But this year? This year, he loved his birthday.

Because he got to spend it with you.

He couldn't remember the last time he was so excited about his birthday party, especially since there had never been someone special by his side before. Usually, he sat between all the guests, who were coupled up and feeding each other cake and laughing at the bad jokes of their lovers, but this year would be different. Because out of all the people invited, you and him were the only ones single.

There were great hopes tied to the fact that between all the lovey-dovey couples, you'd only have one option to choose. He had ensured that no one got the stupid idea to ask you out leading up to this day. For the last weeks, he had followed you around, discouraged others from approaching you, and conveniently put himself on your radar, always smiling and greeting you, walking you home after work when you two "coincidentally" met after his own shift. Buying and offering you a drink or a snack ever so often just from the "goodness of his heart". You never even noticed how he melted in your presence, how he absorbed every word you said, more desperate to spend more time with you every day.

It was a lot of effort to be the only one by your side, considering how beautiful and desirable you were. Countless times, he had to hold himself back to not pluck out the eyes that followed you wherever you went. The light in your eyes was so vibrant that no picture could capture it, and your smile made him feel like he was finally coming home after years of trying to find his place of belonging. It simply had to be you, no matter the struggles he had to go through. He made sure to be up-to-date on every hobby you had, so the conversations wouldn't run out, and in times of distress, it was him who offered his help. No wonder that you, when you were sad about not meeting your friends as often anymore and feeling lonely, gladly accepted his offer to come to his birthday party.

He regretted having to put a damper on your mood before this by making sure you'd be a little more desperate to spend time with him, too. But when you said "yes", he heard the wedding bells ring.

Everything was already decorated, his apartment a monument to everything he didn't like. Gaudy balloons, reds and pinks, roses, and kitsch that made his stomach churn. His fridge was stocked with bottles of sparkling wine, Valentine's special drinks, chocolate-dipped fruits, and the highlight of the day: a sweet, strawberry-flavored, buttercream-covered, delightfully decorated, three-tiered cake. No one would call him stingy, that much was sure.

Carefully pulling out the cake from the fridge, he admired how heavy it was, smelling heavenly with all the cream and fruits on top of it. It would be the day's highlight and, hopefully, the way straight to your heart. He knew all about your love for sweet carbs, and although you ate it mostly for special occasions or when you felt really shitty on some days, this cake was definitely going to impress you.

Setting it down on the kitchen counter, he admired the artistic endeavor done on the food. Some would say it was almost too pretty to eat with all the swirls and decorations covering it, but he'd make sure you'd receive the biggest, most delicious piece of them all! Just thinking about you cutting a big bite out of it, scooping it up on your fork, and passing it through your plush lips sent shivers down his spine.

Your tongue darting out to lick off some excessive cream left behind on your cheek, the sounds of pleasure and delight you'll make as the cream melts in your mouth, coating everything in sugary sweetness. Feeling his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his pants, he knew he shouldn't indulge in the images of you enjoying the cake he provided for you, but how could he not, especially when the comparisons were almost too perfect?

Even though he knew there was a difference between the cake and his cock, it was so easy to replace the two in his thoughts.

He was imagining you on your knees, tongue stretched out to taste his shaft with eager licks, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Your lips wrapped around his tip, licking and sucking up the precum spreading all throughout your mouth until you could finally swallow his whole length, your head bopping up and down, pleasing him to receive all of his "cream".

By the time he pulled himself out of his head, watching the seconds run by on his clock with no more than twenty minutes left until the party was supposed to take place, his cock was rock-hard and leaking into his underwear. You were a potent aphrodisiac and he should have known better than to indulge in the thoughts of you, but it was hard, considering he desired you more than he ever had anything before. Nothing would ever bring him as much joy as you would. You had long become his whole world, and he worshipped you like the deity you were.

It was absolutely impossible to look into your eyes without coming right then and there on the spot. Time was running out as every minute threatened with his guests' arrival, and now he had this extra challenge to take care of before this perfect day could commence.

Working quickly, he freed his imprisoned cock, his palm almost immediately slathered in pre-cum, lubricating him as he pumped it up and down. All he had to do was keep imagining you and all the things he had planned for when he'd finally get to claim you as his completely. His hand worked back and forth, and he thought about taking you to his bedroom after the party, you wanting to thank him in private for the invitation. You, in skimpy, pink lingerie, slowly undressing yourself. The thought of you stripping away your clothes until you were almost completely bared to his eyes was nearly enough to make him cum. However, his cock was a mean prick, still so hard and needy, even though he fed his mind the delicious imagery of you.

All he could do was keep going at this point, time ticking away as he scolded himself for not finishing up quicker. You, jerking him off instead, your soft hands working over his shaft, telling him how much you want him to fill you with his big cock. How you've dreamed of him taking you and moaning at the pure thought of it. His hips made a jump forward as he imagined the tip of his cock about to penetrate you, finding your soft, receptive hole waiting while you mewled and pushed back against him. It almost felt real how wet you were in his mind, almost as if...

Prying his eyes open, he looked down in horror at the smudge on the cake, his tip donning a cream hat, which would have almost been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. This cake was his masterpiece, and he just put his cock against it, almost completely ruining it!

"Shit, shit, shit," he mumbled, using his dirty hands to spread the buttercream down evenly where he had nudged it, the precarious state of his cock forgotten for a moment. It clearly looked like someone tampered with it, but at least it was uniform again. He'd simply take this piece so that no one would see.

Sighing, the stress fell off him again, his cock twitching below to remind him of what still needed his attention. Swiping off the cream from his tip, he licked it off his fingers, moaning at its sweetness. You'd enjoy it so much and savor every bite because he knew you liked the flavor. And it was all his doing.

Stroking his cock again, he eyed the smudged spot on the cake that he had ruined, imagining you eating something his dick touched. You'd never know, but you'd still enjoy it. There was barely anything more he could do to mark the cake, yet it drove him almost insane to think it was all his doing that made you enjoy it. If only there was something more. Something even clearer that marked you as his, other than just providing you with cake and a quick taste of his dick hurriedly covered by coating.

His pulse rose as he imagined his cum dripping down your lips, seeping into your skin. You, moaning as you tasted his jizz willingly, enjoying the taste mixed with the enormous amount of sugar from the cake. You'd never know what he did, never question it. No, instead, you'd be thankful and filled with his cum. You'd be marked as his by the smell of his cum and your willingness to consume it. No one could argue who you'd belong with while his batter was inside you.

With heavy breaths, he placed his tip back on the smudged cake spot. No one had to know. He could simply fix it again, and no one would notice the disgrace he did to this cake he'd present as his masterpiece.

Awfully slowly, with a loud groan, he pushed his tip inside the goods, followed by his shaft. The insides crumbled around him, welcoming him like he imagined you would. Sounds of pleasure erupted from the cake, the same wet squelching that was anticipated from any good hole.

One push, two. Everything was tight and yet softer than he had ever imagined. Immediately, the images returned to his mind—you, hungrily licking off the cake from his cock. It was all that was needed for the pressure to build. His thrusts grew sloppier as he snapped his hips forward. The cake threatened to slip away, so he grabbed the plate, making sure it would take his cock as it should. Another thrust, another loud moan as he imagined you arching your back and curling your toes, screaming as you were coming on his cock in your frilly lingerie, flushed with ecstatic pleasure only he could give you.

It was enough to send him over the edge, too.

He felt his cum burst into the cake, sloshing all around him and threatening to leak out. There was too much to absorb, but for a moment, he simply let himself enjoy the feeling of filling you to the brim. He'd have to clean up and get ready very quickly after this, so for a few blissful seconds, he let the shudders rush through him, listening to the screams and moans of yours that he could easily imagine just from his memories.

By the time he got a grip on himself, cum had already drooled out of the hole he made, adding an embarrassing stain against the white buttercream. He wiped off his cock quickly before putting it back inside his pants and grabbed some coating and fruits to fill up the hole he had created. In a moment of clarity, he realized how fucked-up this was, but the doorbell rang before he could decide not to serve his cum-filled cake to anyone and discard it.

As expected, everyone was awing and oohing at his efforts, their eyes going big at the sight of the cake. Embarrassment was an understatement for what he felt. It should have been pride, happiness, carefreeness. But knowing what lingered inside this cursed cake was too damning, too shameful, even for him.

And then, you arrived. Like an angel sent from heaven, with a little green package, whispering how you knew he didn't like the Valentine's fuss, so you made sure to be extra careful not to come close to the theme with your gift. Your heart was so good, your intentions so pure, and watching you light up as you saw the cake utterly broke his heart.

He wanted to, but couldn't. He definitely couldn't serve it to you.

The guests mingled, filling his apartment, as he began to dread every second of the party. You looked so natural, swaying your body through the room as if you already lived there. As if you were another host to the party, you handed out drinks and helped everyone to settle in. A sight to behold, that's what you were, fitting between all the decorations with how beautiful you were.

He should have been overjoyed by the sight of you acting so naturally in his home, playing his better half without even agreeing to go steady with him yet. But when everyone sat down at the table, ready to celebrate him, his mood crashed violently. Sweat collected on his forehead as he cursed the damn day, especially when you walked up to him, asking if he was alright and checking his temperature. You were so perfect, so sweet. So kind to offer to check on him. If only you could have touched him more, made him forget about all the other guests, and let him explore your body indefinitely in return. Of course, he quickly denied anything was wrong, instead inhaling your perfume, which left him light-headed. It made it easy for you to lead him to the table, sitting him down while you went to "take care of the rest" for him, and his guests kept him busy, talking and congratulating him, so he didn't see what you were doing in the kitchen.

At least not until you started bringing out slices of cake to everyone. He got the first one, topped with fruit, since it was his birthday. It was a beautiful piece from the top tier, and one by one, the cake was handed out. Gripping the chair he sat on hard, he watched as the cake slowly lost its height, piece by piece. Soon, only half of the bottom tier was left, and from his position, he couldn't see where you cut yourself a slice from. Maybe you'd miss the spot, and he could dispose of the rest quietly later. No one had to know, even if it was gross what he did to the cake either way.

But when you sat down next to him, smiling at him as you held up your plate, the color drained from his face when he noticed the change in cream consistency inside and the piece of fruit stuffed into the middle of the cake.

Jackpot.

Everyone sang him "Happy Birthday" while he sweated profusely, his eyes transfixed on your plate, but he didn't even notice or care. Clearing his throat, it was his time to make a small speech, but instead, he merely asked you to swap pieces since he had much more fruit on his, and it looked more delicious. You shook your head, holding your plate out of reach playfully before telling him firmly it was his birthday and he deserved the best piece. People chuckled and started digging in. Moans and compliments rang through the room, but he couldn't pry his eyes off your plate.

Using your fork, you stabbed it right into his cum, the fluids dripping off as you didn't seem to notice the difference from the cream. You lifted it to your mouth, opening wide, and so did his as he wanted to stop you, but no words rang out. Shame and hesitation held him back as he watched you consume the cum-filled cake with delight, humming appreciatively before gulping it down.

Heat filled his cheeks as he watched you take fork after fork of his surprise cake flavor, unaware of how he disgraced it. You were smiling and enjoying your cake thoroughly until you noticed he hadn't eaten a piece yet. With an innocent grin, you cut off some of yours, holding it out to him and prompting, "Open wide!"

And he did.

With his heart bursting out of his chest, your gesture too cute to withstand, while his stomach twisted as he tasted his own salty cum on your fork. But how could he not have been happy? Being fed by you, even if it was his own jizz that coated his tongue and not the sweet cream of the cake? It was a dream come true, and at this point, he would have eaten anything from your hand, he was sure. You were so happy, too, grinning from ear to ear and doing a happy little wiggle in your seat, not even thinking about the indirect cum-stained kiss you two just shared.

You were now fully, utterly his. However perverted and disgusting it was, it was the only thing he could think of. His pretty little partner, owning the place and him as if it always belonged to you. You had his heart in your hands, squeezing it with every smile and making it throb at the sound of your laughter. And not only had he satisfied your fondness for cake, but your belly was now also filled with his cum that you ate so willingly and eagerly. Of course, you didn't know, but you didn't even flinch at the change of taste you must have noticed at some point. If only that cum could have soaked all over you, spilled over your face and chest, and from your little hole that was probably waiting for his cock to fill it next.

He could have said something, ruined this moment and any chances of a relationship with you or any of his friends. But it was already too late, he reasoned. You already ate most of the piece, and he didn't have the heart to tell you what he did. It would be his little secret, although he did make sure that no one else got a dirty piece of cum-filled cake anymore. If anything, they had always been meant just for you. But as he ate his own cake, filling his mouth to the brim to get rid of the bad aftertaste, you leaned over.

"Happy birthday! And happy Valentine's!" you congratulated him, and all the panic and embarrassment simply fell off as he smiled back, thanking you after swallowing the cake. He was already thinking about what he could fill with his cum next for you to eat as he asked you out to have dinner with him soon. And you beamed up, none the wiser, agreeing immediately.

Best birthday ever.

[iguessitsjustme]

When It Rains It Pours Ep 3 & 4 Thoughts

Listen. I am currently at work and not about to watch this show (for at least a few more hours) but I after deciding to wait to watch the next episode and sleeping on it, my little brain wheels started turning and I have some thoughts to get out about the first two episodes before I start the next one. So this time there is more than just a liveblog under the cut:

I wrote that and then immediately had to actually do work. Alas. Anygay

So I was thinking about why the relationship between our boy and his girlfriend felt off to me and I think I puzzled it out. She takes immaculate care of his nails. To the point that other people notice. But his nails are where her care starts and ends. He is initiating all of their conversations basically. She will engage with him but she won't start anything. Except the nail thing. It's why he wants her to be jealous. Because then he will have some sort of proof that she cares. Cause at this point it doesn't feel like she cares about him as a person. She cares about his nails and their appearance because if they look bad that is a poor reflection on her as a girlfriend. But his actual well being and how he feels? She's not present for it. Sure, she'll turn around before she leaves and asks for a hug, but it's so out of character and out of place that our boy doesn't even realize that's what she's asking for at first. He needs to communicate his needs with words, but he has definitely been indirectly communicating his needs and she's not paying attention. Or she is and she doesn't care. And she is not communicating anything either. Their beds have separated to the point there is a table between them. A clear indicator that what they had before is changed. It can easily be moved back to how it was but neither one of them is doing it. No one is even making an attempt. Who put that bedside table there? Because my bet is that it was her. A signal to him that something had changed, but she doesn't have the guts to actually say it. Or even to admit it to herself probably. Anyway I still think she's cheating.

And now I want to talk about Sei and his boyfriend (?). It seems like Sei has made an awful lot of compromises. Does Sei have any say in anything to do with that relationship? How much of himself has he given? Way too much. And I'm not saying his boyfriend (?) needs to compromise on having sex with him if that's not something he wants. But he can compromise on other things. That's what a relationship is. He gets jealous of Sei having someone else to talk to. But Sei can't be in the apartment because of an interviewer coming over. Sei is obviously a homebody but his boyfriend (?) seems to go out a lot. Does he ever make the time to stay home with Sei. Sei has proven he is willing to leave the apartment for his boyfriend (?). So why not invite him to something. Even if it's just the two of them. Why is Sei supposed to give up all of himself and have no control over anything at all?

Okay. That's a lot of words and I haven't even started episode 3. I didn't even mention the plastic umbrellas. Lord jesus.

OKAY. The fact that she TOLD him he has rice on his face instead of removing it for him. Something is not right. She doesn't love him. At least not any more. They don't have any sense of domesticity.

Oh so not boyfriends. Best friends. Okay that tracks. Except the jealousy thing. Also Sei has still given waaaayyyy too much of himself to this dude. He needs to be free to be himself. There's something there about being closeted.

I am watching. I am listening. I am learning. *hyper focuses on arms full of umbrellas*

Man I really wish I had the spoons to talk about the music in this show cause it is phenomenal. Someone remind me this weekend. That is if anyone wants that.

Something something framing. My brain is currently hibernating.

They are about to find out aren't they? God bless.

THEY BOTH EMAILED ABOUT THE STATUE. ARE THEY NOW GONNA LOOK AT EACH OTHER?

God bless.

Episode 4 time? Episode 4 time. (but only if this truck goes away it's shaking my whole apartment.)

Truck is gone. I am free. Episode 4 let me look at ya with my eyeballs

…have I mentioned that I haven't been getting much sleep lately?

Something something going down an escalator. He's going down. Towards hell? Making poor decisions cause he's gonna cheat on his girlfriend? Going to hell because he's going to learn about his attraction to men? And obviously gay people go to hell? I need a shot of those two together going up the escalator or I'm gonna scream.

Oh he's me. This is the literal exact thing I would say to my friend in this situation.

Okay I get it. I get it. I'm gonna be thinking about this scene for a while. The way Sei thought the messages as knew them were over. The way instead he was asked out to dinner. Because both of them need each other. They understand each other in a way no one has understood them before. They see themselves in each other. I'm fine. I'm totally and completely fine. Where are the umbrellas.

Oh the toe.

DID HIS FRIEND DESIGN THE CARD HOLDER? IS THAT WHAT THE SOMETHING IS. Or one of the somethings. Everything is connected.

"When he shows his masculine side it kills the mood" girl WHAT. Are you even attracted to him? Do you even like men? Girl. Be so fucking for real right now.

So I hate both of their partners. The girlfriend and the best friend. They are both keeping these two trapped and I HATE it.

Should I watch episode 5? *looks at the time*

[idciminlove]

FIGHTER.

Part Eight - Like

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Kang Dae Ho x f!reader

warnings- themes of PTSD, father issues, mention of overdose (but not an actual overdose), grief, etc.

You make some new friends, and some old ones too.

Dae-Ho could still feel the warm press of your body against his. It wasn’t until he had you in his arms that he realized how small you were. Your presence was so strong, making you larger than life, like an angel or a goddess, but when he held you, you felt real. Like something attainable, something human.

You wanted to push him away at first, he could feel it. Your body tensed up, and he almost let you go, but then he felt you relax. Felt your head rest on his chest and your arms wrapped around his back, soft and gentle, as if you gripped him too hard, he would break.

You were like fire..all different kinds. A forest fire, wild, untamed and dangerous, burning anyone that got close, but also a fireplace, warm and inviting, comforting on a cruel, frigid night.

You were truly something else. He had never met anyone like you.

“Is everything okay?” 001 asked, bringing him back to reality. All of his other teammates were looking at him now, concerned from his unusual silence.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little lost in thought, I guess.” He grinned, shifting his focus on their conversation instead.

–

Dae-Ho introduced himself (Dae-Ho - Dae as “huge” and Ho as “tiger,” of course) and listened to their names and the meanings behind them. He knew 456’s name was Seong Gi-Hun, since he had been called that by the other men. But he didn’t know the rest. There was 390, or Park Jung-Bae (meaning twice and righteous) who supposedly lives twice as righteously, 001, which was Oh-Young Il, his name coincidentally meaning zero one, (maybe that’s why they gave him the number), and Miss 222, Kim Jun-Hee. She didn’t know the meaning behind her name.

As they talked, he couldn’t help but gaze over at you, letting his attention drift once again. You were sitting on your bunk, all alone. He knew you probably preferred it, knew that you could handle yourself just fine, but it didn’t sit right with him, especially after the two of you had made up. Everything was okay between you two, so why couldn’t you join him?

Once again, he was standing in front of the group. He gestured to you. “Would it be okay if we had her join us?”

“I don’t know. She kinda seems like trouble.” Jung-Bae mumbled. “She got into a fight on the first day, and she doesn’t exactly seem popular around here. If we have her on our side, it might be harder to convince people to change their vote. How do you even know her, anyway?”

“She saved me in the first game. Of course, Gi-Hun was very motivating, but she was the one who really got me through it.” Dae-Ho admitted, slightly bashful.

It was the truth. Without you, he didn’t know what he would’ve done. He was in a bad way that game, with all the gunshots, blood, and screaming bringing back memories he had so desperately tried to repress. His hands were all shaky and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and then you took his hand, and guided him through it. You truly had saved him, and he still doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he owes you one. The least he can do is look after you.

“She helped me too.” Jun-Hee chimed in. “She was the one who told me to join your group. She gave me the confidence to do it.”

Gi-Hun and Young-Il traded glances. Young-Il was the first to speak. “Sure, why not.”

Gi-Hun didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in agreement.

–

You could feel their eyes on you. Thanos and Nam-Gyu, glowering at you, watching you like a hawk watches its prey, circling like sharks in blood thirsty waters. You tried not to pay attention to them, tried not to show your fear because you knew the moment you did, they would win. So instead, you lied on your back, staring at the bunk above, gazing at the metal fixtures, and counting down the minutes until the next vote.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dae-Ho’s head popped up from the side of the bunk, standing beside it, below you. “Hey.”

“You scared the shit out of me!” You practically jumped out of your skin, startled. You were so surprised that you almost hit your head on the bottom of the bunk above you.

“Oh, sorry. I thought you heard me.” He offered you his hand.

“What?” You asked, gazing at it hesitantly. What is this about? What does he want?

“Come with me.” It wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you took his hand, letting him carefully help you down from his bunk. You expected him to let go of you once he had done so, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept holding your hand, leading you over to the group, the team he had been with in the pentathlon.

He finally let you go once you reached them. “You should meet my friends. This is Seong Gi-Hun, Oh Young-Il, Kim Jun-Hee, and Park Jung-Bae.”

You bowed politely. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Aren’t you going to tell us your name?” Jung-Bae inquired.

“Oh, yes, right.” You hesitated for a moment, gazing at Dae-Ho. He gestured to you encouragingly, a bright smile on his face. You took a deep breath and told them your name.

Jung-Bae repeated your last name. “Wait, like the famous MMA fighter?”

“Yeah. That was my Dad.”

You watched the older men’s expressions change, watched as it clicked. Who your father was, who you are, a major piece in the puzzle, falling into place. It all made sense to them now.

“Ah, the heavyweight champion, The Dragon. Gi-Hun and I were big fans. We would bet on his fights all the time.” Jung-Bae remarked, pumping his fist. “That explains how she’s so tough. Yeah, I can totally see the resemblance.”

You smiled softly. It was always such a bittersweet feeling when people recognized you and your father. There was always the awe and amazement, and then the pity. Your father had kept his family life private from the tabloids, so most didn’t know about you, and you liked that. You’d rather gain your own fame through blood, sweat, and tears, working your way up the MMA rankings instead of being known just for being someone’s daughter. What little information was known about your father was his death, rumors of his overdose spread like wildfire, whispers of him being a junkie, using during his career, when they didn’t know the true story.

No, they didn’t know anything at all.

“It was a shame what happened to him.” Jung-Bae added, pity and sympathy clear in his voice. Young-Il nodded in agreement.

Gi-Hun spoke, soft and quiet. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You nodded, looking at the ground, unable to meet their stares. In your periphery, you could feel Dae-Ho’s eyes on you, and see his hand move, as if he wanted to reach out to you. You heard those words time and time again, so much that they lost their meaning. It’s a shame. I’m sorry. Like that would bring him back. Like it would make you feel better. You’re so tired of hearing it. You’re so tired of the pity and the guilt. You’re so, so tired.

Before your conversation could continue, the guards entered the room, thankfully shifting the focus to something else you had to worry about. They congratulated you on getting through the game, and clicked the remote. The piggy bank lit up and the bills fell in, the amount of money going up on the chart while the number of players went down.

20.1 Billion Won. 78 million won each.

The players around you complained. It still wasn’t enough.

The front guard tried to appease them. “Your concern about the prize money is completely understandable. However, we always leave the door open for you to explore other opportunities.”

A shiver went down your spine. You looked over at Thanos and Nam-Gyu. Nam-Gyu caught your gaze, a snake-like grin crossing his lips.

Two guards brought the voting podium into the front of the room. Everyone got into their lines. You sighed softly.

The cycle continues.