#and yet I still wrote That Much in one night

[ff-killjam]

How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]

Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.

Rating: SFW and very fluffy

Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!

AO3 version

A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.

It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.

That’s how its USUALLY IS.

Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.

From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.

After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.

So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.

But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.

It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.

The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.

It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.

It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.

You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.

“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.

“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.

“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.

“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.

“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”

“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.

“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.

“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”

“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer…”

Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.

Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.

“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.

“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”

“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.

“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.

Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.

Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.

And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

[thebramblewood]

this is in a similar vein to an ask you got recently but do you have any tips for those who are interested in sims 4 (or even other games like ts3 and ts2) storytelling? I write fanfiction but I think making sims 4 stories could be a fun venture. Anyway, thank you for your time! I love your stories so very much they're literally my hyperfixation!

Well, that makes two of us because it's literally my hyperfixation. I think I've shared bits of advice before, so some of this might sound familiar, but here are some things I think are important to remember (and I tried to be concise, I swear).

Write the story you want to write. Obviously, it's a great feeling when something takes off and people get invested. But if you pursue an idea only because you think Simblr will like it, you probably won't be inspired for long and it'll probably show. I've been very lucky with my story, but it didn't blow up overnight. Early on, I was thrilled to get double digit notes or one reblog or comment and was admittedly disappointed when I put a lot of effort into something and nobody seemed to notice. But I kept going because I was obsessed and wanted to see it through, and that's more true now than ever.

Start with low stakes and allow yourself to evolve. Before I was on Simblr, I made Sims stories with no poses or visual enhancements or fancy editing. I wrote them for myself, and I loved every minute of it, but they also gave me a solid foundation for the kind of storytelling I do now. Even after starting this blog, I eased myself into it. I learned how to use poses and Reshade, then moved on to more advanced editing techniques, then moved on to teaching myself to make poses and very basic CC. If you try to learn it all at once, you're more likely to give up because you're overwhelmed. Take your time and make peace with the fact that perfection isn't possible. Everyone's always learning!

Take advantage of the fact that Sims is a game. Even though I've been a creative writer for most of my life, I don't come up with fully-fleshed, elaborate Sims stories from scratch. It started off with my legacy and not wanting every generation to feel the same. I thought about gameplay I hadn't experienced yet and centered each generation's story around that. Even with HZID, I just wanted to make and play with vampires! That's it! Initially, I used a lot of gameplay to convey Helena's college experiences, and I still try to incorporate it when I can. It can really be a great base to spark your creativity if you don't know where to start.

Don't have a life outside your story. I'm joking. Kind of. I'm not a very social person and I don't like leaving my house if I don't have to. This leaves me with a lot of time for working on story things. Honestly, I could probably stand to work on it less. But for better or worse, I'm doing story-related things most nights and weekends, and even if I'm not doing anything, I'm thinking about it. It's probably mental illness, but we'll just call it passion. At the same time, it's also important to take breaks! If you're feeling burnt out, step away for a while. If you can't make yourself step away completely (raises hand), just edit the script or spin your blorbos around in CAS or something rather than going straight for posing a scene.

Follow and interact with other storytellers. This is probably the most important thing, and as someone who struggles with social anxiety it was the hardest for me to do. But I try to make a point of keeping up with other stories, commenting, and reblogging. Not only will the amazing talent of other writers inspire you, but you're building meaningful connections that make them more likely to want to interact with your story. There's no denying it feels amazing to watch your audience grow. But no one's going to see you if you don't make an effort to be seen, as scary as it can be. So try to be active in the community and support other storytellers the way you want to be supported!

[yandere-yearnings]

ultraviolence by LDL except it's sun ❤️

i KNOW he's meant to be a cute author yan but to me he is EVIL and i think about that one "don't wanna take ur eyes away" drabble u wrote a lot more than i should dar. u did this to me. 😓😓

my apologies genie😔💔 hope giving you this (non-canon) evil sun will make up for it🤧 i was gonna add some flower motifs and stuff bc yk,, ✨️ultraviolence✨️ but i've been distracted so it got lost on me lmao

putting this one under a cut bc it's vv heavy on the implied abuse and domestic violence + reader is some sort of emotionally manipulated w/ stockholm syndrome (??) also this is definitely my worst piece writing-wise and i'm embarrassed haha subby sun enjoyers pls look away he is not very bby boy in this

There was a place he would take you to. Blindfolded in the passenger seat of his car, windows rolled down so you could feel the breeze, warm like his hand on your thigh, like the laughter swapped in breaths between the two of you. You loved him so much, not once did you question his taking your vision from you, even if only momentarily.

He promised to show you only beautiful things. You believed him.

It was a garden. Basked in green lights and shimmering white. A place where daybreak seemed eternal, because Sun only brought you there on the brightest summer mornings. He’d lift the cloth from your eyes, and each time without fail, the ethereal world around you was lost to his radiant smile. Narrowed to brown irises brimming gold, you’d dance to unspoken vows, whispered to the winds on chaste kisses. All you wanted was to spend the rest of your life with him. For that, you’d given him everything.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

Running through this empty concert hall in the dead of night; an impulsive game of cat and mouse coordinated by slivers from the dying moon. Why was it that the more distance you put between you, the more you felt you were leaving yourself behind?

Open doors to the rain outside, and the coldness of it all should’ve woken you up. That scent of mud and dirt, the taste of iron at the back of your teeth, the way you felt your heart would burst from all that welled inside — yet for a minutes, you waited there. Minutes, wishing you could feel those hands on your swollen ankles. That Sun would drag you back to him before you could make the stupid decision to walk away again.

Discordant crashes and bangs and the sound of familiar footsteps. Your grip loosened on the handle. He didn’t even chase you anymore. Sun knew you, and you knew yourself, too. You were hopeless, even if it hurt. If he were to pin you down and break your legs like he always said he would, you would feign ignorance to it all. Staring into the endless blackness that vignetted from the four corners of this grand auditorium, you’d revisit the evening he’d invited you to the orchestra with him, and pretend you remained there. 

Blind-eyed, and finally, arms around your hips. You could hear the violins. “Should I bury you, baby?” fingers snaking up, prints in purple to the column of your throat, “is that what you want?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t know what’ll fix me.”

“Nothing can.” Sun was the knife and needle all at once. Nails digging into your skin, twisting your head to meet his gaze. He’d snap your neck. You were sure of it. “But it’s okay,” a soft smile, your foreheads touched. “I’ve loved you ugly, haven’t I?”

He had. Sun loved you even when his name on your skin had scabbed into a disgusting cluster of blood and tissue. He loved you when you were beaten and broken. Touched you so tenderly afterwards, you could completely forget it was him that slammed your skull against the floorboards — so insistently to the point the wood was stained to its core. Maybe it all got skewed in your head then, but you didn’t care anymore. Nobody would understand what you felt with him. You’d no longer be able to imagine life if you were to take him out of yours.

“Your legs hurt, don’t they?” he cooed, moving to stand in front of you. His thumb brushed your cheek, and came away wet. “You’re crying.”

You sniffled, leaning in, nuzzling into his all-encompassing warmth. “I don’t mean to.” It was strange how all else became insignificant like this. “I’m not sad.”

“That’s good.” Sun glanced outside, and there were strings tugging your stomach to your lungs. You wanted his attention back on you. You wanted everything from him. His deepest desires unravelled in pillow talk alone, had become your own. Now, it made sense.

So you didn’t refuse when he ushered you to your knees. Sun's praise was sweet, tone dulcet and sombre and safe when he told you to follow him, to crawl — looking out for you as always because your knees were in better shape than your feet.

The rain in rivulets over him, shirt damp quick, and sticking to his skin. Sun showed you his backbone. The smile coming to your lips felt wiry. He must’ve trusted you as much as you did him. 

“Will you take me home?”

“No,” he muttered. “To the garden. We’ll dig your grave.”

[underfaller]

in his house of mind, dead cipher waits dreaming

Chapter 1: On Your Mind Rating: T Synopsis:

You really think you won that day/You packed your bags and sailed away/You think you left your past behind/But trust me/I'm still on your mind

A year has passed since Weirdmaggedon and the Pines family, victorious in the end, are happier than ever. Stan and Ford are adventuring at sea, making up for lost time. Dipper and Mabel are now freshmen and are ready to take on high school-- geometry, bullies, (student eating?) clubs, and all! However, things take a turn for the worst when Dipper and Mabel receive of horrific message from Ford:

Bill is back.

You wrote a page about me in my own book so allow me to make this tiny addendum over your dull ramblings. 

Stanley Pines,

I've been on your mind. 

Are you surprised to see me? You must be confused so allow me to explain, slowly, in small words: 

If memories could return so easily, why couldn’t I? 

You really thought you won that day, huh? It’s painfully pathetic how naive you are. 

Aw, don’t look so distraught! You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Stanley. You may have lied and cheated to get your way for your whole life, but you can’t elude simple logic-- no matter how desperately you try! 

Still there? Of course you are! There’s not much else for me to say and I’ve got a very busy schedule ahead of me so I suppose I’ll end things here. However, before I leave you to the endless void and your growing insanity, I’ll let you in on a little secret-- Don’t ever say I’m not a generous guy!

Here it is: 

I see myself in you.  And that’s not because I’m literally possessing your worthless skin puppet. You and I are quite similar-- always scheming, constantly caught in our own web of lies, conning the world until we can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake anymore. A spectacular guy like myself should be thrilled at our similarities! I mean, the more “me” in the universe, the better, right? 

We should be getting along better than bleach and ammonia! 

…But I’m not thrilled. Far from it. Am I upset? Upset would be an understatement. No, your dimension’s vernacular can’t even begin to describe my resentment of you. 

I hate you, Stanley. I detest you. I despise you.

I can still see through the eyes of everyone I’ve ever possessed. I’ve seen your past, your present, and your very near end. You’ve spent your whole life screwing up and you will die no differently. You’re a loser. A blight on this already tedious world. A waste of space. You shouldn’t exist. 

So how? 

So how could you have beaten me? How could a lowlife, fat-headed, braindead, absolute failure of an existence possibly beat me? 

…And how do you have everything that I don’t have? 

Your dimension is safe, drifting peacefully in chaotic, infinite chaos while mine has been obliterated, erased from existence as we know it. Even the last atoms of my universe are gone-- decimated by your brother during our little Weirdmageddon spat. 

You’ve done nothing to contribute to your world and yet, when I only wanted them to see the stars, I was met with ultimate destruction. 

How is that fair? 

Your brother adores you. Your brother once adored me too. Has he ever looked upon you with pure, unadulterated hatred? We both ruined his life but only one of us is forgiven.  

And your mother. Your mother still thinks of you. She keeps your photo on her bedside table. She looks at them every night. She misses you. 

My mother is dead. 

How is that fair? 

Now I am you and you are me but why do only you are rewarded. Why is it that I get nothing? What makes you so special? 

I am the only one who sees you for what you are and I hate you. I hate every molecule of your being. I hate everything you have that I don’t. I hate, hate, HATE you, Stanley Pines. 

You don’t deserve what you were given. You aren’t worth even a sliver of it. 

So I’m going to take it all away-- Take what’s rightfully mine. There’s nothing you can do. No more cheap tricks, no more cons, no more last minute plans-- your luck has run out. Your time in the spotlight is over-- Time to show you how a real star performs. 

Better luck next time, bootleg Sixer.

When you awake, you will find yourself in utter, pitch black darkness. You will soon realize that your arms and legs paralyzed, unable to even struggle. You’ll be suspended in a limbo where you are neither awake nor asleep. 

Can you fathom my pain after you erased me? Can you imagine the torture? Your smooth brain would implode on itself if you even tried to grasp it-- And now you will experience it yourself. 

How do you like that, huh? 

HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? 

You enjoyed your little victory but in the end, it’s me who won. 

Ha! Ha! Ha! 

Goodbye, Stanley Pines, and good riddance. Your pitiful existence will not be missed. 

Don’t worry too much, I’ll take good care of your family. 

It seems like an eternity since we've returned to sea but the Stan-o-War II is back. We left Portland at 21:00 and headed to Point Nemo. My research has led me to believe that the pole of inaccessibility is a magnet for weirdness, much like Gravity Falls-- There may even be ruins of a long lost civilization in its underwater bowels. I would like to test my hypothesis. Stan is fine with our expedition as long as there are “hot Atlantis chicks” to flirt with. I will keep his sentiment in mind. 

We’ve grown closer this year than we have in three decades. It’s… nice to be back with him. 

Despite my excitement for our adventures, I enjoyed our short break in Gravity Falls. It's always a delight when the children come to visit. Everytime I see Mabel, I swear she's grown at least an inch taller. At this rate, she'll be towering over me! Dipper is growing into a bright, young man-- it is impossible for me not to notice our similarities when I was his age. He recently mentioned that he plans to take honors geometry next year. I replied that if he ever needs tutoring then his ol’ Grunkle Ford is more than happy to help. 

It's been almost a full year since Weirdmageddon yet I still occasionally think of Bill. I am prone to anxiety and occasionally find myself irrationally fearing his return. That's impossible, though. I remind myself of that more times than I care to admit. Bill is gone and the moss covered statue in the forest proves it. We erased him. He can't hurt me anymore-- and he certainly cannot hurt my family. 

Stanford closes his journal, before blowing out a flickering candle and standing up, yawning. He looks at his watch. 3:33 AM. Old habits die hard and Ford still finds himself procrastinating on sleep, slightly fearing what will happen when he loses consciousness. He sighs, pushing past memories from his weary mind.. He'll need at least two cups of black coffee tomorrow morning if he has any hope of getting up on time. 

As Ford lays in his rickety cot, the Stan-o-War II shudders and creaks as it rocks against rolling waves. Usually, the familiar sounds of the boat lull Ford to sleep, but tonight, they keep him up, tossing and turning, each noise seeming to echo ten times over. 

It is one of those nights. 

Ford looks up at the ceiling, frowning. He used to have fantastic, imaginative dreams. After Weirdmageddon, however, his resting mind is always empty, dark like the ocean during a new moon. He misses dreaming. 

Though, Ford should be grateful-- there are much worse alternatives to a dreamless sleep. 

In the distance, Ford hears the rumblings of thunder. A summer storm isn't uncommon and it certainly isn't the ship's first experience with unsavory weather but for some reason, Ford feels uneasy. Perhaps he should sleep in the bridge tonight, just in case something goes awry. 

Ford’s thoughts are interrupted when his cabin door creaks open slightly. Ford grins, aware of his twin’s antics. 

“Very funny Stan. Aren’t you a little too old to be afraid of thunderstorms?” 

Familiar, cackling laughter rings across the room. 

“Oh Sixer, I’m not the one scared right now!” 

It can't be. 

Time stops. Stanford violently sits up, scanning the seemingly empty room. 

Click. 

Lightning cracks. Stan is sitting atop his brother, shotgun pressed against Ford's chin. Ford looks up in horror seeing Stan’s eyes bright yellow and glowing in the darkness. 

“Not so fast, unless you want your pretty brains all over the headboard,” Bill teases. He examines the shotgun in his hands. “Can you believe the old guy sleeps with this thing? Talk about a safety hazard!”

Ford freezes, his blood turning to ice. He can hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. His usually rapid firing mind has slowed to a complete standstill in his terror. His mouth is dry as he struggles to speak. 

He must have fallen asleep. He’s sleeping, he’s sleeping, he’s sleeping-

“This is a dream,” Ford stammers. “You’re not real; you’re dead-” 

Stanford Pines does not dream.

Bill howls with laughter. As he does, Stan's mouth contorts into an unnaturally large grin. 

“Oh Sixer! You can’t kill an idea or a god and certainly not both!” Bill replies. He giggles. “Did you miss me?”

Ford tries to answer but Bill cuts him off. 

“Oh, I already know your answer-- of course you missed me!” Bill chatters on. “And now that your inferior twin is outta the way we can head back to Gravity Falls and finish what we started!”

“Why did you come back?” Ford says through grit teeth. “Your henchmen are gone, the rift is sealed-- there’s nothing left for you here, Bill.” 

“Nothing left for me, hahaha!” Bill shakes his head, smirking. “Man, that idiot's stupidity is rubbing off on you! Have you forgotten?” 

Ford doesn’t answer. Bill leans closer, lowering his voice to a drawl. 

“We made a deal, you and I. You’re my partner from now till the end of time.”

Ford looks into his brother’s yellow eyes and is filled with fury. Seeing Bill using his twin like this while having the audacity to expect him to continue their partnership-- it’s laughably, outrageously, enraging. Ford can’t help but give a low chuckle before glaring at the demon. 

“Go fuck yourself, Bill.” 

Lightning flashes once more, illuminating the two adversaries. Bill sighs, clicking his tongue. 

“For some reason, I knew you’d say that.” 

Bill grips the shotgun and shoves the barrel down Ford's throat. Ford’s eyes widen, threatening to pop out of his skull, and he gags, tasting metal and sulfur. Bill grins, obviously amused by Ford’s discomfort. 

“Well, if you’re not going to be of use then you can join the rest of your family in the afterlife.” 

The kids. He’s going to come for the kids. 

Bill pulls the trigger. 

Click. 

Silence.

“Seriously? Who keeps an unloaded gun by their side!” Bill shouts. 

It seems his luck hasn’t completely run out. Now, it’s Ford’s turn to slightly grin. He looks up at Bill.

“Alright, my turn.” 

Sorry Bro. 

Stanford lifts his right leg up and kicks Bill in the balls. Hard. Bill cries out in pain and keels over, clutching between his legs. 

“Goddamnit! Curse human body weaknesses!” He yells.

Ford roughly pushes Bill off him and races out of the room, making a break for the bridge. The storm is much closer than he initially thought, violently rocking the tiny vessel against angry waters. 

I have to warn Dipper and Mabel before it’s too late. 

Ford whips around the corner, jumping into the bridge. He quickly locks the metal latch behind him and barricades the door with a piece of wood lying to the side. That’ll stall Bill just enough. He rips open drawer after drawer until he finds a small handgun. This one is certainly loaded-- Stanford always made sure his weapons were. He hesitates at the thought of potentially wounding his brother. 

Anything to stop Bill. 

Stanford checks the ship’s communication radio, flipping switches and dialing to station 618. 

“Transmitting from S-O-W- 0-2. S-O-W- 0-2. This is Stanford Pines.” 

Before they’d left, Stanford gifted the twins a radio and scanner to communicate with them while they were out at sea. With a few tweaks and some borrowed alien tech, Ford had made sure that its frequency range would reach wherever they were in the world. He imagined it would be used to regale the children of their fantastical adventures. Never would Ford have thought he’d use it for this. 

But even if they were near the radio, the kids are likely fast asleep at this hour. Still, he speaks into the mic. 

“Bill is-” 

There’s a thunderous boom and the ship suddenly lurches to the left. Stanford stumbles, gripping onto the edge of the table to keep himself from falling. The light bulb above him swings violently above him, threatening to fly right off its wire. Stanford steadies himself.

“Bill is back. Do not engage. Do not answer.” Ford hesitates before adding, “We love you two. Please keep safe-” 

Ford is knocked to the ground. His gun skitters across the slippery floor. For a moment, he can only see stars. He groans, his face radiating red hot pain and ears ringing from the blow to the side of his face. Bill holds the empty shotgun like a bat, grinning like a madman. 

“Who were you talking to?” 

Bill looks at the radio, slapping his forehead and cackling. 

“Aww… Don’t tell me you were talking to ol’ Pine Tree and Shooting Star! You’re so impatient-- I’ll get to them soon!” 

“No, don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare-” 

Bill strikes him again with the butt of the shotgun. Ford tries to crawl towards his gun but Bill steps on it, kicking it even further before kicking Ford in the stomach. The air is instantly extinguished from his lungs and Ford gasps in pain. Bill looks down at him in disgust. 

“Shut the fuck up, IQ. You’re in no position to tell me what to do. I’ve given you chances over and over but since you’ve obviously got a death wish, you’re gonna die like a dog just like your brother,” Bill narrows his eyes, pursing his lips. “I used to think you were different, Stanford. Special . But now I see. You’re trash just like every other member of your damned family. You’re pathetic. ” 

Suddenly, Bill starts laughing as he kicks him again. Over and over. 

“C’mon, Fordsy!” Bill spits. “Aren’t you gonna play the hero? Where’s all that fight in you gone? Or are you too scared to hurt me in this body?” 

Bile rises in Ford’s throat as he is repeatedly assaulted. Pain numbs his mind and his body curls up, mind desperately trying not to black out. Bill’s foot strikes his face and Ford hears his nose crack, blood filling his nostrils. 

Then Bill abruptly stops, bored that his attacks aren’t getting a rise from his former partner. He clicks his tongue, standing over Ford, watching him writhe, gasping for air. Bill shrugs. 

“Well, if you’ve already spoiled the surprise, allow me to say a few choice words.” 

The demon bounds for the radio, grabbing the microphone, twirling the cord in his fingers as he speaks. 

“Hey Shooting Star! Hey Pine Tree! This is your Grunkle Stan! I’m about to paint these walls red with my brother’s guts and turn this shitty tin can around back to the mainland! Don’t be too upset though guys! You’ll be joining him VERY soon! OVER!”

Bill rips the microphone from its wires, throwing it across the floor. 

“As I was saying-” 

Ford grabs Bill’s leg and violently pulls him down. Bill yelps in surprise and falls to the ground. The two wrestle, punching, kicking, scratching at each other like mad men, vying for dominance. Ford spies his handgun, dangerously close, and lunges at it, grabbing the weapon. 

The gun goes off. Bill jumps away like a rabid animal before straightening up. He gently touches his cheek, looking at the blood smeared against his fingers. He chuckles.  

“Wow Sixer, real gutsy pointing that thing at me but we all know you love this meat puppet way too much to actually kill me.”

Ford narrows his eyes, once again pointing the gun at Bill. His hands are trembling. 

Stanley wouldn’t want to be used like this. He wouldn’t want to hurt me. He wouldn’t want to hurt the kids. It’s because of that, that I- “You’re wrong Bill,” Ford says, quietly. “It’s because I love him that I will.” 

Bill’s body shudders. He convulses, gagging before he shakes and closes his eyes. When he reopens them, they aren’t yellow. Stanford lowers his gun slightly. 

“Stanley?” 

Stanley stands in front of him, wide-eyed and terrified. 

“Stanford?” 

His body spasms once more. The yellow eyes return and Bill lunches at Stanford. There is one last crack of lightning. 

The gun goes off.

[traffic-was-a-b1tch]

wrapped around your finger

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

author’s note: I RECOMMEND NOT READING THE SUMMARY BEFORE READING THIS FIC! if you want to have the full effect of the story, don’t spoil it for yourself! now for those of you who don’t know, along with gvf, I am a huge 5 seconds of summer fan. I wrote this fic based on one of their unreleased songs (my favorite of all time), wrapped around your finger. I recommend reading the fic first and then listening to the song on youtube after. I loveddd the experience of writing this fic because I got to live out the events of the song through my own character and I think that’s always fun! anyway, enjoy the story!

summary: jake takes you out for a night you’ll never forget. but when the morning comes, will he still be the man you thought he was?

warnings: SMUT!, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f rec), loss of v card (unknowingly), cursing, theft, angst, arguing, misogyny, underage drinking (I do not condone)

• • •

the clock read 6:37 pm and you were just coming back up to your room after mom’s chicken and rice dinner.

you had to kick a few boxes of pictures to the side on your way up the stairs. the new house was pretty but still unfamiliar. it had only been 4 months since your parents uprooted you from everything you knew and moved the family to california for your dad’s new job. the transition was tough at the beginning, but now was just boring. you had nothing to do. ever.

you plopped down on the edge of your bed that wasn’t covered in papers. you had decided to leave all your homework piled there, too lazy and overwhelmed to continue anymore. if mrs. turner thought that you were gonna finish her set of 50 algebraic expressions by monday, she was on crack. it was friday, damn it. why was everyone being so freaking difficult lately? couldn’t you catch a break? you eyed the pictures displayed on your wall, the contrast and vibrancy made you break into a small smile. you wished you were out taking pictures. you hadn’t got a chance yet, to capture your new city on film. it was calling to you…but so was your notebook and pen. you glared at them, frustrated. you needed something other to do than homework right now, but still you reluctantly grabbed them, starting on the next problem.

you don’t even know how much time had passed while you were scribbling math before you heard the tiny click. perking your ears up, you looked around to see what made the noise. you scanned around you. nothing in your room was out of the ordinary. the closet door was open as well, letting you see clearly that nothing was hiding in it. you suspiciously looked around one more time before going back to your equation.

so, if x equals the equivalent of 172 radical 4…

another click.

you recognized the direction the sound was coming from then, head focusing in on the window near your bed. you waited, wanting to see what was going on. after a few seconds, a pebble came flying up and smacked into the glass.

you got up and walked over to the window, peeking out to see if you could catch a glimpse of the person, at least you hoped it was a person, down below. a shadowed body was barely visible, the face too dark to tell any features.

damn it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do this. you were barely dressed in pjs, definitely not for unknown guests, and you had no makeup on.

slowly, you unlocked the window and pulled up, sticking your head out. just then, a rock came hurling up at you fast. you gasped and ducked, the solid circle traveling through the air and into your room. luckily for you, it landed on the carpeted floor so it didn’t make much noise. the last thing you needed was your parents to know someone was outside trying to get your attention this late in the evening.

you hesitantly peeked your head back out, seeing a pair of empty hands waving.

“hey! sorry!” a man’s voice called up, too loud when considering your parents’ keen ears.

“shhh”, you whisper-yelled back, “who’s down there?”

“it’s jake, from english”, he lowered his voice a little, “sorry for being so loud, I just wanted to see what you were doing tonight.”

you were a bit shocked and wondered if you had heard correctly. he wanted to see what you were doing tonight? what did that mean? I mean, you and jake weren’t particularly friends. sure, you saw him in class or the halls and he joked about teachers with you, but you wouldn’t say you two were friends. you definitely weren’t on the “show up at my door after dinner and throw rocks at my window, why don’t you” level. so, you had no clue why he would be here. you knew you didn’t have friends yet, but a childish thought popped in your brain. what if he liked you? no, that’s stupid. you hadn’t ever had much action back home anyway, so to think he liked you already when you had just gotten here was a delusion. but still, the question stood. why was he here?

“well, I was working on mrs. turner’s packet. I’m probably going to try to finish it tonight”, you hesitated, “why? what are you doing here?”

he finally came into view, stepping underneath the light shining from your bedroom. you took him in and became almost speechless. he was clad in dark denim jeans and a cream long-sleeve shirt halfway tucked in, buttoned only up to his nipples, where they would be anyway (you weren’t thinking about his nipples, definitely not), and completed with a ball cap. you had never really saw him like this before, relaxed and rugged. maybe it was just the soft yellow lights from your room that made him look this handsome. definitely the lights.

“well I, uh, was in the area”, he began, “you know, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?”

what? the hell? you couldn’t help but think that jake being outside your window asking you to hang out was just a cruel joke. or maybe, just maybe, it was fate? what if him being here was for a reason? what if this random hang out with a new classmate would be the best thing for you? the thought ate at your logic-loving brain. you had to tell yourself to shut up.

“um”, you thought for a second, “I’m not exactly dressed to go anywhere.” you laughed a bit awkwardly, looking at your pink rainbow pajama set.

“come on”, he urged, opening his arms out wide, “live a little.”

his words hit you. you hadn’t really had a social life lately, having no real time to get friends or join extracurriculars. you almost gasped when you realized.

you were lame.

sure, you never were the life of the party, even back home. but you wanted to be. you wanted to be the girl that people envied. with this move, you could make cooler decisions and nobody would know better.

“you know what, fine. where are we going?”

he broke out into a grin, “it’s a surprise.”

a twinge of doubt and fear hit your brain but you shook it away. maybe he was right. you needed to live a little.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you changed quickly into a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. grabbing your phone, you sneaked down the stairs, past your parents’ room, and out the door.

you met him in the backyard, his back leaned up against the side of your white house. he seemed a bit taller than you remembered, towering over you.

he smirked, “you ready?”

smiling slyly back, you replied with a nod.

he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the direction you two were going to walk. you followed him, still a bit nervous but powering through. you hated the idea of not being cool enough to do fun, spontaneous things like this. he led you to the road and you started making the trek to wherever you were going.

“soooo”, he put his hands in his pockets, “where did you move from?”

“georgia.”

“ahhh, southern girl huh?”

you laughed, “yeah I guess. not too obvious?”

“nah. I would’ve guessed east coast, but now that I look at you”, he took in your appearance up and down, “you have that southern belle kinda look.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile, “oh really? what about me says southern belle?”

he shrugged, “you look sweet.”

you shut up at that. you weren’t sure why a small compliment from him would shake you up so much, but you couldn’t deny how attracted you were to him.

he chuckled, “what? I can’t say that? ok.” he shook his head with amusement, “you have any plans coming up?”

you shook your head almost immediately and laughed, “I don’t do much.”

he smiled and laughed with you, “well, there’s a party tomorrow night at jenny stewart’s house. I heard it was gonna be fun so i’ll probably go. you should come, it’s at 9.”

you fought the urge to raise your eyebrows in surprise at him. was he really flirting? instead you just nodded and said “maybe.”

he smirked and changed the subject, “so how are you liking santa cruz?”

you reflected on the time you’ve spent here and became underwhelmed. “well, the people are nice”, you slightly tilted your head towards jake, making him smile. “and…I don’t know. I haven’t made many friends yet and kinda get caught up in school, I guess. I haven’t had a chance to really experience everything here.”

“mmm. well, then I guess it was a good thing that you have me tonight.”

he stopped at a crosswalk and grabbed your shoulders. it caught you by surprise, and you tried not to shiver at his touch. “I have a question for you.”

“yes?” you answered a bit too quickly.

jake looked down before making eye contact, “can I have you tonight?” you immediately raised your eyebrows in confusion, and he continued, shaking his head. “can I have your time? show you what is great about this place?”

a small smile tugged at your mouth from his thoughtfulness and you nodded.

“yeah?” his eyes looked hopeful and sweet as he became excited, nearly jumping for joy. he settled a bit before saying, “ok, first things first:”, his eyebrows jumped, “race ya.”

he took off down the crosswalk, the sign still illuminated with a red hand. he was fearless, dodging two cars to make it to the other side. before you could talk yourself out of it, you chased him, nearly screaming when a car honked his horn at you loudly. when you caught up, you pushed him playfully and he laughed heartily. the rest of the walk was about 10 minutes, silence non-existent. he’d managed to get you to open up. you talked about your life in georgia, your old friends, your school. he filled you in on what happened in santa cruz before you. the conversation was easy and fun, flowing freely.

he led you to a mcdonald’s, the golden arches shining above you. this was a bit surprising, as you didn’t exactly picture a mcdonald’s being a particularly important part of santa cruz.

“follow my lead”, he smirked as he pulled the door and went inside.

there were a few employees inside mopping and a couple in the kitchen. jake swaggered up to the register and dinged the bell on the counter in front of him. one of the employees in the kitchen walked over and mindlessly asked what he would like to order.

“two big macs please”, jake said a little too confident, “and two drinks.”

the worker handed you two the cups and left to get the burgers.

“hey”, he whispered in your ear, “get me a coke, will ya? i’m gonna initiate phase 2.”

you looked at him questioning, but he waved you off and you listened. you went to the fountain, filled your cups with soda, and when you turned back around you saw what jake was up to. he was slinking to the part of the store that an employee had just mopped and, because there was no wet floor sign, turned back to you and winked. with one move he flung his head back and pulled his feet up, falling on his back, hard. you put your arm over your mouth to cover your shocked mouth. you started to giggle a bit at what just happened and jake, groaning, jerked his head at you to come over. you got the hint and gasped before setting the drinks down and rushing over to him.

“oh my gosh! are you ok?” you rubbed his arm as he twisted and turned in mock pain.

“oh no! no, no, no! I am not ok! who would have known that they were mopping there? there was no sign! oh, my back! having no sign for a slippery floor is so dangerous for your customers!”

you nodded and then shook your head, “so dangerous!”

by this time, all the employees had stopped to see this and the manager had come out to see what was going on.

the manager rubbed his bald head as he took in the scene and asked, “are you ok, sir?”

“no”, jake answered, “i’m not ok! I got hurt because of your negligence! i’m gonna sue!” jake crossed his arms and you followed, trying to seem genuinely mad.

“well, don’t do that!”, the manager bent to help jake up as he chuckled uncomfortably. “we can offer you coupons or free food or-“

jake, standing with a stuck up look on his face, cut him off, “I would imagine that my meal today is free!” he thought for a second. “in fact, I would like additional food to help with”, he fought back giggles, “my healing.”

“of course, of course”, the manager snapped his fingers at the employees. “whatever you need, sir!”

you two proceeded to order just about everything on the menu.

“…and two mcflurry’s”, you added at the end. out of the corner of your eye you saw jake smile at you, full of an emotion but you weren’t sure which it was.

only a few minutes later, all your food was in bags and you were walking out the door with too much to carry and zero money lost. as soon as you two were out the door and around the corner, you started laughing hysterically.

“when you- I didn’t know that you would- that was-“, you laughed.

he did too, smiling at you and then doing something unexpected: he put his arm around you. you tried not to let it phase you, clutching the food a bit tighter, but you loved the weight of his arm around your shoulder.

“you know, i’m surprised that you got into it as much as you did. you don’t seem like a troublemaker.”

you rolled your eyes, “well, i’ve never done that before, that’s for sure. but, I don’t mind a bit of trouble.”

he smirked at you, impressed, “good. we’re gonna get in way more trouble tonight, just wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you eventually turned a few corners and reached a big chain link fence. you couldn’t see what was beyond it very well, as there were quite a few buildings blocking your view.

he grabbed the bottom corner of the chain, which had been cut, and pulled it back. he looked back at you with a grin, “you ready?”

you couldn’t really believe you were about to follow a cute boy you didn’t know, who you talked to about your past and robbed a mcdonald’s with, through a cut fence to a unknown place.

you laughed a bit through your words at the absurdity of the situation, “yeah, I am.”

he offered his hand, his eyes hopeful. it occurred to you then that you were definitely going to take his hand. you couldn’t stop the night, too far in to quit now. even if you could, there was no part of you that would decline. you were his for the night.

you accepted his hand and he smiled. he bent down, squeezing himself through before helping you, the sharp edges around you catching on your clothes. you ease out and grab the food that you left on the other side. once you were all together, he stopped you before you could move.

“ok, do you know where we are?”

you looked around yourself breifly before answering, “nope.”

“good. i’m gonna go do something really quick and I need you to stay here.”

you nodded, a little sad he was leaving you.

“promise?” his eyes searched your face for sincerity.

“I promise.” you smiled and fought the urge to tell him that you wanted to promise your life to him. you kept all your thoughts inside as he grabbed the food and raced away through the alley of the building.

you shook at your thoughts, “ugh! stop it! you don’t know this guy! you need to stop before you embarrass yourself.” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes to center yourself. opening them back up, you saw jake coming back through the alley. his sleeves were rolled up and his ball cap had turned around, now facing backwards as he jogged up to meet you. you nearly passed out. what was it you said about not embarrassing yourself…

“you ready?” he pulled you out of your trance and you had to remember to answer.

nodding, you watched his body get behind you and place his strong hands over your eyes.

“ok, we’re gonna walk forward, but go slow.” his voice was right on your ear, low and raspy. you could barely concentrate, but you put one foot in front of the other and walked.

he led you through the alley, and from there you had no idea where you were. you relied on him to guide you, leaning back on him a bit. you almost tripped over a rock of some kind, letting out a funny scream-like noise. he chuckled in your ear behind you, making you almost shiver at his voice. god, this was getting hard.

“and… stop.”

finally, he pulled you back and stopped walking. he kept his hands over you eyes as he talked.

“before I show you, what do you hear?”

you listened closely.

“wind.”

“good”, he praised and you tried not to smile. “what do you smell?”

you sniffed the air, slowly.

“um”, you giggled at your answer, “fishy air?”

he laughed deeply in your ear, “good. now, what can you taste?”

you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out a little.

“hmmm, salt?”

“very good. now, are you ready to see?”

“for goodness sake, jake, we’ve been walking forever and I played your games, I think i’m ready-“ you tugged his hands off your eyes and lost all your words as you took in where you were.

the beach was beautiful under the moonlight, lighting up the waves as they crashed and sprayed. the water met the sand in a beautiful blue-tinted dark spot, and a few feet in front of it lied a blanket and our mcdonald’s bags. it was a picnic on the beach under the moon. you wanted someone to pinch you.

“jake- I-“, you couldn’t find the words if you tried.

“do you like it?”, his voice hopeful while his fingers grazed your arms lightly, his presence ever comforting behind you.

you looked back at him, “I love it.”

he grinned and grabbed your hand, leading you to the picnic.

“where did you find a blanket here?”

he smiled fondly, as if at memories you had brought up with your question. “my family used to come here all the time, so I always loved it. now that, you know, i’m grown and we don’t go out much, I come by myself. I keep a blanket in one of those lockers over there, just in case.” he pointed to a wall of lockers for people to stow their belongings while at the beach.

“and what about…“, you answered your own question by turning around and seeing what the buildings blocking your view of the beach were. “suites and private beach houses? wow, people have money.”

he laughed and helped you sit down on the blanket, fingers accidentally brushing your lower back. you locked eyes at the touch, dangerously fast, and you looked away before anyone could say anything. if you would’ve stared into his eyes for just a second longer, who knows would’ve happened.

finally, you both sat and got comfortable on the blanket over the squishy sand. he frowned, sighed, and shook his head.

your eyebrows furrowed at his actions, “what?”

he sighed again and made eye contact, “i’m just-“. he contemplated his words, looking up into the sky and then dropping his head to the sand before looking back at you. “i’m just really…”, his eyes danced around your face as he leant in, almost unaware he was doing so. it seemed like he was being pulled towards you, and you back to him. you followed his lead and leant in a little. he licked his lips, smiled sheepishly, and pulled away. “i’m just really hungry.”

you both nodded fast and you tried to shake the memory from your head. giving him a sweet smile, you grabbed a big mac out of the bag.

you two ate and talked for a good hour. half of the humongous bags were empty and there was nothing but happiness radiating from your spot on the beach. he had found himself on his elbows laying back, and you on one elbow looking down at him. he was so fucking charming. and it was going to be the death of you. you laughed at his horrible jokes and he smiled up at you, putting a fry between his teeth. you tried your best not to stutter or lose your train of thought, but it was so hard with him. he was just- perfect. and that was a dangerous thought.

“so”, you began after catching your breath from the joke, “what do you want to do? in life, I mean.”

he thought for a second, his head moving side to side. “realistically? or my dream?”

you smiled, “your dream.”

he grinned back, “musician.”

you rolled your eyes, laughing, “is that why I always see you playing that sg?”

his brows furrowed as a questioning look donned his face. “you see me play? when?”

your face blushed a bit, realizing how creepy the next sentence was going to sound. “after lunch. my next class is- well- when I leave- I pass the music hall on the way to my health class.”

he smiled at your embarrassment. “and you spy on me?”

“no! no, of course not! I just- see you through the window,” you backtracked, “like because it’s really big and I just catch a glimpse. I don’t watch you or anything-“

he threw his head back and laughed. you grunt in frustration, nothing you say making the situation sound less weird.

“it’s ok, it’s ok”, he fought to stop laughing, “I know you weren’t being creepy.” then, he raised an eyebrow at you. “wait, how did you know it was an sg?”

you shook your head, “my dad is a collector. it’s dumb but he always made me go with him to look in the vintage shops.”

jake smirked, “impressive.”

you shrugged, “I don’t know about that.”

he eyed you, “what about you? what’s your dream?”

you felt yourself get bubbly just thinking about it, a smile creeping on your lips. “a photographer.”

his eyes got bright, “pictures, huh? take one of me right now!” he stood, kicking up a bit of sand as he did, and struck a pirate-like pose.

you laughed and grabbed your phone, lining up the lighting and snapping a few shots.

he sat back down and urged you to show him, laughing at the situation. when you did, the joking left his face and was replaced by an expression of amazement and confusion.

“fuck, these are actually really good.” he looked up at you, “how did you get the shadows and highlights with just a phone camera?”

you shrugged, “i’m always just taking the picture by feeling. I get inspired and then it always just leads me to the perfect shot.”

he shook his head, still surprised at the quality, “this is perfect, don’t you realize? you could take pictures at my concerts!”

you laughed and nodded, “sure, jake.”

“i’m serious! you said you need inspiration and my music, especially the guitar solos, will definitely inspire you.” he tilted his head back and added, “plus I look super sexy when I play.”

you wanted to laugh, to play it off, but you didn’t want to admit how much that image was affecting you. you just decided to roll your eyes and shake your head, pushing the thought away.

“promise! say that you’ll be my personal photographer!” his enthusiasm was hard to turn down.

giggling, you agreed, “fine. but no nudes.”

he busted out laughing and shoved you.

after the laughs subsided, there was silence for the first time in the night, both of you too caught up in the eyes of the other. the tension was dangerous, waiting to erupt. still, there was a question still eating at you.

“jake?”

“yeah?”

“why this tonight? why me and the beach? why are you doing this?”

jake studied you, eyes drifting up and down your body. he motioned for you to come closer, his breath tickling your ear, “why not?”

you slowly turned your face to his, not backing up. you were eye to eye, foreheads almost touching and lips just inches from each other.

you broke the trance by placing a finger on his lips and pushing him backward. “race ya”, you challenged and took off towards the beach.

you heard him laugh from behind you, getting closer. you were about ankle deep in the water when he grabbed you around your stomach from behind, lifting you up and spinning you. water splashed up on both of you, drenching your clothes. giggles plagued both of you as he spun and then set you down.

you turned and saw his face…and you don’t think you’ve ever been the same since.

he was smiling, big. his hat had flown off in the run, the wind blowing his shirt open. his hair was flowing messily and his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. he was perfect. so amazing that you couldn’t find words to describe it. you hoped right then and there that this would last forever. you weren’t sure you’d ever get him out of your brain.

it was then you realized that your shirt had been soaked by the ocean, the white cloth sticking to the curves of your torso and becoming see-through. you looked down to see your light gray bra showing through, and looked back up to see jake’s smile gone. it was replaced with a look of deep desire. his mouth slightly parted, his eyes locked on your wet body. you stared at each other for a minute, your salty hair whipping at your face.

he came close, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. he leaned closer and nudged your noses, almost asking permission.

“jake…”, you trailed, begging him to keep going.

he came in so close that your lips were grazing each other, pausing just a second before closing the painful gap. he kissed you softly, and you sighed into it.

you knew then.

it didn’t matter anymore.

it doesn’t matter what else happens or doesn’t happen tonight.

you were his.

the connection was complete.

after a few seconds of sweetness, you kiss him harder. his hands find your waist, pulling you into his body. your hands hold his face on yours, slightly in his hair. he continues to kiss you deeply, hands roaming to your ass and then your legs, picking them up so he could carry you back to the blanket.

he made haste, nearly tripping from the sand on the way, making you squeal. he laid you down on the blanket gently, you legs wrapping around his waist naturally. you both giggled at the position you had found yourselves in, feeling the excitement and adrenaline. you could feel his hands shaking as they trailed up and down your sides. the kisses grew hungrier, both of you getting impatient. he disconnected your lips and sat back, panting. you watched from your laid position as he unbuttoned whatever was left of his shirt and shouldered it off. then he bent back down and lifted the edge of the shirt sticking to your stomach, pulling it up and over your head. your bra was removed shortly after, being tossed to the side. your chest laid bare in front of him, his breathing shook as he whispered under his breath, “you’re fucking gorgeous.” with that, he kissed you hard again, hands slowly cupping your breasts. you moaned softly in his mouth and it was obviously too much for him to handle, as he immediately fumbled for your jean shorts’ button. he undid them and tugged them off fast, throwing them to the side. he groaned as he took you in, only clad in your underwear. it was a white thong decorated with cherries and jake laughed when he saw it.

“cherries?” he smirked as he began to kiss his way down your chest, licking your nipple. you gasped and moaned as he continued down your stomach and reached the top of the thong.

he smirked and looked up at you. god, what a sight that was. his hair messed, his eyes dark and mischievous. he looked up at you like you were something to eat. and god, you hoped he had an appetite. “I wonder if you taste like cherries, too?”

you were speechless as his fingers hooked into them, inching them down and tossing them over his shoulder. automatically, your legs came together at the brisk air on your private parts.

“ah, come on baby”, he shook his head, “let me see her.”

he made eye contact with you and bit his lip as he placed each of his hands on your knees, prying them apart slowly. his eyes flicked down to your center and he took a throaty breath before he dipped his head down between your legs. hooking his arms around your thighs, he looked at you before lowering his face down and licking a long stripe up your core.

you moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked, already feeling like it was too good.

“fuck, you do taste like cherries”, he smirked, licking his lips, before diving back in. he teased you, going fast and then slow.

“jake, please”, you begged.

“what baby? use your words, honey.”

he stopped teasing and made out with you, only taking breaths to kiss your inner thigh. you squirmed and whimpered, his grip just getting tighter. your hands tangled in his hair and pulled, causing him to grunt and flick his tongue over you faster.

“jake- too much. I can’t-“, you pleaded.

“you can. you will.” he said it as a promise, like he had already made up his mind about it.

jake went faster, harder. he was making true on that promise. you felt your muscles tighten and your mouth fell open. you screamed as the orgasm hit you. he continued for just a minute more, working you through the rest of it, until you started to run from the overstimulation. he pulled back and admired the mess you made.

“fuck, cherry”, he panted, smiled, and came up to kiss you. “I almost couldn’t stop.”

you moaned as he kissed you, beginning to feel something hard and hot on your thigh. you gasped breathlessly, his bulge evidently turning you on. you reached down and touched him through his jeans. you didn’t even use much pressure and he was already groaning. too worked up for his own good, he tugged down his pants, and you couldn’t help but run your hands across his toned chest. as he removed his underwear, you sucked a small hickey into his neck as a little memento to remember your first time together. you were certain that this wouldn’t be the last.

jake finally got fully naked, lining himself up with you. your eyes met and he slowly started to push into you. he sighed in relief, like he was returning to his home inside your body. the stretch was painful at first, as he wasn’t small by any means, but when he started to move the pain went away. it felt so good. too good.

“fuck, baby. you’re gonna be the death of me.” he moved slowly, all the way in and almost all the way out.

the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt, the pleasure taking over your brain and making you a mindless zombie.

“jake, oh my-“, you couldn’t even finish, cut off by a powerful thrust that hit a spot in you that you didn’t know existed.

“I know, baby. give it to me.”

the rhythm got faster, fueled by the pleasure radiating from both of you. soon, he was fucking you hard. the sound of slapping skin and moans mixed with the background noise of waves crashing against the sand was intoxicating.

“oh fuck, baby. are you close?” he was falling apart, evident by the squeak in his voice.

“yes! fuck, jake!” you could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling. the warm buildup started in your belly and you knew it wouldn’t be long. his grunts became faster and louder as he pummeled into you as hard as he could. he looked you in the eyes and moaned your name loudly, like he didn’t care who heard him.

“jake…”, you groaned, feeling the buildup get to the edge.

“oh, fuck. me too. show me, baby. show me how good you feel. cum for me.” he groaned at the thought of you falling apart on him.

you did as he said. moments later, you felt like you were engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense you shook. you never broke eye contact as you moaned his name and squeezed his dick like a vice.

“fuck-“, he came with a groan. he shuddered and panted as he painted your walls. his eyes drifted away and he hung his head in the crook of your neck.

still inside you, he whispered in your ear, “you’re so amazing.”

you felt a smile creep on your face as you scoffed lovingly. he brought himself back up to look at you, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. the smiles on both your faces were sweet and sappy, taking in the warmth.

you wished that this moment would never end. this right here? this was heaven. in jake’s arms, on the beach, orgasm haze washing over you both. it was all you’d ever want, you were sure of it. all you’d ever want is him.

he pulled out, hissing at the feeling, and tearing you away from your thoughts. “so, let’s get you cleaned up then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he used a napkin from the food bag to clean you off and then you both got dressed. pulling on your shirt, you saw jake glance at his phone.

“oh shit. it’s 12:06 in the morning. I gotta get home.”

“oh”, you tried to hide your disappointment, “that’s ok. I probably should too.” you smiled, walking over and pulling him into a hug, and he smiled back.

the walk back to your house took almost 30 minutes but you welcomed the time, dreading the moment he’d have to leave. you talked the whole way back, laughing about the night and things that happened at school lately. you held hands, swinging them like elementary schoolers with their first boyfriend.

you reached your house and turned to face him, sad. “I don’t want you to go.”

a small, empathetic smile tugged at his lips as he pushed you back towards your home. “go. you don’t want your parents to wake up and find you gone, now do you?”

you looked him in his dark brown eyes and wished you could tell him that all you wanted was a hug from him. all you want is a life with him. he became all you wanted within a few hours, sweeping you off your feet instantly. you needed him.

but all you could manage to say was, “ok.”

you kissed him one more time, softly. he smiled and kissed your back, his hand coming around to grab your ass. you squealed and pushed him away.

“stop it! my parents are like a foot away.”

he laughed, “fine. i’ll see you around.”

and with that, he turned and walked away. you figured you should do the same too, backing up slowly. you got to your front door and turned back to look at him. you hoped to see him looking back at you, but he was gone. frowning, you slipped inside. quietly, you made it to your bedroom and sat on your bed.

holy fuck. what just happened? this was the greatest night of your life.

you tore off your still-wet clothes and grabbed a towel before running to the bathroom to shower. the warm water ran down your body, washing away the sand and salt. you could still feel his hands on you, and you smiled at the reminder. when you were done washing your face, you went back to your bedroom.

you gasped when you stepped on something unexpected, but then smiled when you realized what it was. it was the rock from earlier tonight; the one jake threw. you smiled and picked it up, putting it on your dresser next to your favorite pictures. it was now going to be displayed with your favorite things. when you laid down, the comfortable bed swallowed you up as you thought about the night. about him. about jake.

you smiled and yawned, the happy memories and warm sheets lulling you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you woke up the next day sore. you sat up and stretched, but your mind started to wander and soon you remembered the fun of last night. it filled your heart with happiness and all you wanted to do was see him again. but, in the haze of the night, you never exchanged numbers.

that’s when it occurred to you. jenny stewart’s party. he said it would be tonight at 9 and he’d probably be there. you almost patted yourself on the back for remembering. you looked over to your clock and almost screamed when you saw that it was noon. you slept late. too late. it was time to start preparing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had jumped in the shower again, and this time it was an everything shower.

you washed and conditioned your hair thoroughly, did full skincare, exfoliated, and shaved everything. like everything, everything. when you got out, you wiped your hand on the foggy mirror and brushed your teeth to finish the routine.

you ran to your room and started picking out something to wear. you started by grabbing a lacy, black matching set. last night you weren’t prepared, but tonight you would be. you put them on, the black bra pushing your tits up perfectly. the lacy panties left nothing to the imagination, but that was the point. next, you turned to your closet to find a dress. this would probably take a while.

it took a good minute of searching before you found what you were looking for. it was a black dress covered with cherries. how perfect. you thought about how he’d love the subtle callback to last night’s events and giggled. you put everything on and smiled at how you looked. he was gonna love it.

next was makeup. you did a subtle look, swiping a bit of sparkle on your eye and blush on your cheek. the mascara you used made your eyelashes 10x longer and you batted them at yourself in the mirror. you added a bit of sparkly gloss as a finishing touch. you felt like a little girl, giddy to see your crush.

by the time you were finished with everything and put on comfortable shoes, it was time to go. you said bye to your parents, saying you were going to a study group with friends. you tried not to feel upset when they raised their eyebrows at you having friends, and just ran out the door.

the walk there would only be a few minutes because jenny lived in the neighborhood next to yours. you checked your phone and saw that you were gonna be a few minutes late, but that was ok.

as you walked up to her house, you saw that the party was in full swing. there were people in the yard and on her wrap-around porch, already tipsy and talking. you excused yourself by them and made your way up the steps and to the door. the music bumped inside the house, rap being played out of a speaker. you walked into her house and saw you were in the kitchen. jenny’s house was big and very nice, but it was a mess from the party. there was beer bottles everywhere, liquor spilt here and there, and tortilla chips spilling out of bowls. the granite island in the middle of the kitchen had all the booze on top of it, and you realized then that you had never really been to a high school party. not a real one anyway. the only party you were used to going to had punch and a piñata. this was a real party.

you decided to keep your focus on finding jake, looking around the room. you tried to make your way to the living room, accidentally bumping into a very drunk jenny stewart.

“heyyyyyyy girl!” she slurred her words and waved at you.

“hey, jenny”, you tried not to laugh at her state, “have you seen jake?”

“jake kiszka? yeah he’s here.” she almost turned away before she whipped back around and grabbed your arm, “wait. whyyyy?”, she said in a flirty tone. “are you guys togetherrrr?”, she smirked.

you blushed and looked down, “I mean, kinda.”

“shut upppp! go get him, girl!” with that, she pushed you towards the living room.

you laughed and continued on, smiling as you came into the living room. but as soon as you saw him, your smile disappeared.

there he was, dressed in a hot black t-shirt and jeans, leaning against the stairs with a drink in his hand. and next to him was a girl. her dark black hair fell down her back and contrasted with her fair skin. she had on a red bra-like top and the shortest shorts known to man.

they were laughing. talking. why was she making him laugh so much? her hand was on his bicep and his hand on her waist.

you walked over slowly, mouth still slightly open in shock. when he caught a glimpse of you, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from the girl, coming over to you.

“what are you doing here?” his tone was annoyed, impatient.

“um, what? what am I doing here? first of all, you invited me!”

he rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think you’d actually come. it took a army to get you out of your house the first time.”

you scoffed at his rudeness but kept going, “well second of all, what the fuck are you doing?”

“what do you mean, ‘what am I doing’? i’m at a party, having fun.”

you’re eyes got wide and your voice got louder, almost able to be heard by others over the music, “you’re with someone else! what the fuck?”

he put his hand over your mouth and backed you into a corner where nobody would see you, “shut the fuck up. damn, do you ever stop talking? what? you act like we got married last night.”

your eyes glossed over with hurt as you ripped his hand from your mouth and spoke, “what? so nothing that happened last night means anything to you?”

he laughed and rolled his eyes again, “oh my god! it wasn’t that big of a deal. it was one night. yeah, we had fun. but I thought you knew it was just that: fun. you act like we said ‘I love you’ or some shit.” he took a swig of his beer.

you felt stupid. he was making you feel like last night was all in your head. the tears started to fall on their own and you couldn’t stop staring at him in disbelief.

he sighed, “oh, now you’re fucking crying? grow up, (y/n). we’re in high school. what did you think? we were gonna go run away together, get married, have kids, and live in the florida keys?” he scoffed, “you’re pathetic.”

you wiped your tears quickly and made eye contact again, “no, I didn’t think we were gonna get married”, that was a lie that hurt your heart to say, “but fuck, jake! we had sex on a beach and now you’re here flirting with some other girl like I don’t mean anything to you?”

“it’s just sex! fuck, you are so sappy!”

“you took my virginity, jake! what am I supposed to do? pretend like it never happened because you want to fuck some other girl?” the tears started again, and it was getting harder to hold them back.

he threw his hands up like he was innocent, “hey, don’t blame that shit on me! I didn’t know you were a virgin! you didn’t tell me shit.”

“so it was all about sex?! so if you knew I was a virgin, you would’ve never taken me out?” your shook your head, hoping you were wrong.

“no, I wouldn’t have”, he scoffed and said it like it was obvious, then he turned and ran his hand through his hair muttering, “this is such bullshit.”

you couldn’t help the disgust and shock plastered on your face as you took him in. this was a new person. this wasn’t the man you knew last night. maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe you were just a fool all along, believing his lies. you dropped your head and took a shuddering breath.

“so, you don’t want me?”

he turned back to you and you looked back up. he sighed at your face, covered in tears, like it was annoying to see you like this, like you were a rock at the bottom of his shoe.

“no, I don’t want you. I wanted you last night, and so I had you. don’t make this a thing, ok? normal girls know that when a guy shows up at their house at night asking to ‘hang out’, it means he wants to hook up.” he took a breath, “I guess you just thought I was asking you out so we could lay in a flower field naming the stars and counting the constellations”, he laughed at you, “don’t get me wrong, the sex was good but that’s all it was. now, we’re done.”

that was it. the truth. the truth you never wanted to know. you didn’t know what else to say to him, but you knew you had to say something.

“ok.”

he raised his eyebrows, “ok? you’re done crying?” he sighed, “alright, i’ll see you around.” he walked away, drinking more of his beer, and returned to the box-dye-black-haired girl.

you moved on autopilot, leading yourself out of the room and back into the kitchen with the loud rap playing. passing by the liquor island, you grabbed a big bottle of malibu and continued outside. the party was still going, people making out and talking everywhere. you found the porch stairs and sat down, opening the rum and chugging a good amount. you sat there, drinking and staring out into the moonlight for a long time. you could still feel his hands on you, and you shivered. it was now such an unhappy memory. when the malibu was about half gone, you pulled out your phone. you went to your camera app and looked at the pictures from last night. they started with the one of jake striking a pose right after he learned you wanted to be a photographer. you laughed at the memory and took another drink of the malibu. you swiped and found a bunch of pictures that you had took while you two were laying on the beach, right after you were done having sex. they started with you two smiling, then another of him kissing your cheek, then another of you kissing passionately.

“you can’t tell me that wasn’t real”, you muttered to yourself, looking at the picture and taking a swig of rum.

“boy problems?”

a girl’s voice startled you as she walked up to you from behind.

“yeah.” it was all you could say, the tears already welling up again. you turned off your phone, not being able to look at the happy faces anymore.

she sighed and sat down next to you, “I know that feeling. happened to me a year ago.”

“really?” you looked over. she was so pretty. her brown skin and hair fit well with her marbled glasses frames. she was dressed in a polka dot t-shirt and jeans with a headband taming her curls.

“yeah, some guy I met from a different school. you don’t even want to know what happened.”

you looked at her empathetically and handed her the bottle.

“thanks”, she took a drink and turned to you, smiling. “i’m kate.”

“(y/n). it’s nice to meet another girl who can relate.”

“oh yeah”, she sighed, “I definitely can. so, who’s the guy?”

you hesitated at first, but then thought: what did you have to lose by telling her?

“a guy named jake.”

she gasped, “wait. kiszka?”

you nodded and took another drink.

“that’s the guy who broke my heart a year ago.”

you nearly spit out your gulp of rum. “what? he dated you?”

she rolled her eyes, “yeah, well I wouldn’t call it dating. it was one night. a glorious night on the beach.”

you went still but stayed silent. of course. of course, it was all a prepared night. it was a routine he did to make girls put out and then leave them high and dry.

“I know that’s what happened to you, too. i’ve heard it’s what he does.” she shrugged and took the drink from you, downing some more. she looked over at you and smiled softly, “i’ll help you get over him; I don’t have many friends anyway. we can go get slurpies and sour candy and go watch step brothers at my house.”

you laughed and nodded, laying your head on her shoulder, “that sounds great.”

a silence fell over you, only the faint sound of music and breathing audible.

“it feels like i’m never gonna be alright.” you were such a fool for him. you let him build you up just to tear you down. you hated how much you still wanted him, after everything.

“yes, you will. believe me, it takes time but you get there eventually. until then you just have to deal with it: being wrapped around his finger.”

• • •

THE END.

this one took forever to write (purely because i’m lazy and took so many long breaks lmao) but it’s so rewarding to see it finished! please let me know if you liked this one and what you would like to see next! love you guys so so so much! 💓

(comment under this post to be added to my overall tag list because I just realized I don’t have an overall tag list lol :))

[beck-a-leck]

Idk if it's me thriving on Night Shift Life or just drinking nothing but Current Hyperfixation Juice

But I added 6.4k words to my WIP tonight and god I need to think of a title for this damned thing so I can start posting it because damn!

I'm 8 chapters in, with a ton more written ahead that hasn't been dropped into a chapter. And my maybe halfway done word count is about 64k. Which is an INSANE amount for me to have written on one thing in just like 6 weeks...

[tvrningout-a]

CHAPTER SELECT       ➤ ???       ➤ ???       ➤ is it not enough i'm happy? 

i made the team! i get to play! i get to be their setter!

     how brightly she shined as she told her parents of her success, of how she worked hard for months to obtain that starting position, of the excitement she finally felt again. they were happy -- why wouldn’t they be? for years, makiko hadn’t touched an extracurricular, nor had she dedicated herself to anything worthwhile. they were relieved to see her smile, to hear her talk so animatedly about something.

     but makiko had been naïve. they always want more from her. 

     oh, won’t it be nice if you’re captain next year? her mother mentions it more than once, likes to talk about how yuuta was the basketball captain his senior year, and makiko tries to smile and move on. she doesn’t care if she becomes captain or not, doesn’t believe it’s something to entertain when she’s still building trust with her new teammates. she just wants her team to do well, to enjoy themselves and feel good about what they’re doing. what does it matter if she’s the one leading in the end?

     her father thinks her coach is too easy on her and her teammates, mistakes allowing the girls’ room to learn and trust each other as a lack of initiative. never mind they’ve won every game up until now -- that coach rubs him the wrong way, and maybe he’ll have a talk with her. makiko knows this comes from a place of love, that he only wants the best for her, but she can’t help the scowl and harsh protest that leaves her mouth. he scolds her for talking to him that way and tells her she won’t succeed if she doesn’t have someone to push her.

     makiko shuts up, apologizes, and clenches her fists so tightly that her palms sting. 

they push their own sense of ambition onto her, yet they don’t believe she can do this on her own? that she can’t be like her siblings like they’ve always wanted her to be unless someone holds her hand? what a fucking joke.

     her mother brings up becoming captain again one night, and makiko just cannot take it anymore.

     “ is it not enough i’m having fun? ”

     quiet but sharp, makiko’s words halt the conversation at the dinner table. she feels yuki’s stunned gaze, but she doesn’t look away from her plate. mrs. furukawa asks, “ what? ”

     " is it not enough i’m having fun? is it not enough i’m happy? ”

     “ makiko--- ” 

     “ no, tell me! is it more important that i’m successful, or more important that i’m happy? ”

     it comes pouring out, every ounce of resentment makiko has ever felt for being compared to her siblings, for being taught that unless she was the best, she wasn’t good enough. it’s reflected in her eyes as she glowers at her mother, shoulders tense and one hand clutching her chopsticks with a death grip.

     “ where is this coming from? ” her father has the nerve to look confused, and makiko scoffs.

     “ how many times have you compared me to yuki and yuuta now? a hundred times, a thousand? it isn’t a crime to lack ambition, dad! ”

     " we just want you to be successful, makiko, ” her mother interjects, sounding stern despite her glassy eyes. “ your siblings never needed us to push them much, but you... ”

     “ i don’t need you to push me. you pushing me has only ever made me feel inadequate, you know that? you put my siblings on this pedestal and expected me to match that -- of course i stopped trying! ”

     chest heaving, heart racing, head spinning --- when did she stand? she’s trembling, she realizes, and she can’t seem to get her breathing under control. yuki reaches out to her, but makiko recoils ( don’t touch me or i’ll break ) . it seems her parents are stunned into silence, though makiko doesn’t take the time to look at them. she doesn’t see the guilt as it sinks in what they’ve done to her. no, she has an overwhelming need to get away, far away, and rushes from the dining room and out the front door. she can’t be sure who it is screaming after her. her mind can’t focus on anything else but being anywhere but here.

     she’s done. this is the last time she runs away from a problem. in a few hours, makiko will come home, sit down, and talk to her parents. but she needs this right now, a small reprieve after finally finding her voice and exhausting it.

     as makiko collapses against a tree ( of course she finds herself at the community center, where it all began ) , she makes herself a promise: she won’t ever be that timid, shell of a girl again.

[mercuryislove]

55k words into this writing exercise that was only intended to be at most 2k words........

[willowfey]

ignore this i just wanna ramble in the tags for a sec i’ll probably delete it in a bit 🤪

[tardis--dreams]

Guuuuys, I sent my application for my exchange semester!!! No idea if I'll do it, but I still kinda hope to get accepted, so I'm nervous now ahahaha

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[fictionalmenmistress]

I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, so I wanted to share that Logan's rant monologue insulting Wade in the Honda Odyssey, before Wade decides to beat him up and they ~fight~ all night... that so clearly to me, was Logan projecting. It started as a tempered rant to cope with how annoyed and pent up he was, with the heat of everything and with Wade's muchness that makes him, him, but the longer he went on, the more he started ranting and exposing himself in the process.

"THE XMEN REJECTED YOU, AND THEY'LL TAKE FUCKING ANYONE!!!" That was my first hit, that he was referring to himself. He sees himself so lowly, so failed, that's canonical to the film. And canonically, he didn't even quite originally feel worthy or want to be with the XMEN. Didn't feel like there was a place for him there, a place for him anywhere. One of his biggest healings was Professor X not giving up on helping him believe that he deserved to be there, was wanted, was worthy, was a good guy. That's canon to his character. So we know he was speaking about himself. He was chewing Wade out, but he was also talking and focusing moreso on what upset him about himself. (He sees himself as just any jo shmo, when he IS literally THE X MAN ㅠㅠ)

He was seeing himself in Wade, how he "can't even save a relationship with a gd stripper", (he sees himself as not able to save anything either, and he's angry for that more than anything else he's angry or annoyed at) projecting SO HARD as he pieced together saying it out loud, that Wade was exactly like him. Logan hated himself for not saving anything. For being a "loser", a "failure", for all of the same reasons he was lashing out at Wade for. He was so angry and annoyed by Wade reminding him of himself, because he related to him. Wade was his reflection, in his eyes, calling him out so loudly with his own behaviors. And he hated himself. He deeply was suffering with that hatred for himself, and as a result, he lashed out on Wade when really he was chewing out himself, inside, admitting it.

"God's CRUELEST JOKE, IS THAT YOU *WONT* DIE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU! CANT! DIE! SO THE REST OF US HAVE TO SUFFER YOU THE REST OF OUR EXISTENCE!" (something along that.)

He didn't know for sure that Wade can't die. He picked up on that Wade can't be killed. Logan is the one who can't die. They are two flipped sides of the same immortal power coin. When he finished his screaming at him, and everyone was silent at how cruel and shocking the confrontation and his words were, I was sinking with a very empathetically whispered "oh, Logan..." Because I felt his misery. I immediately picked up on him really talking about himself, and I think that was genius and layered. I was upset for how awful that was to say to Wade, heartbroken for Wade taking that to heart, and I was heartbroken that Logan was saying that because he believes that about himself. Because they are, oddly, a lot alike. Very compatible.

This scene here:

I read that Hugh said that Ryan wrote that. He's brilliant with these films. It was so genius. I really needed to share this and bring this thought, meta, analysis to light. For all of us to have.

Is Logan mad at God's "cruel joke" of his immortality, yet ability to feel so much pain through it still? Yes. He punched the roof in rage, because it's not fair. Venting his own pain. He sees his powers, his own and Wade's too, empathetically, as their curse. The curse of being the one who lives, and the guilt with that. The one who can't die. The one who lives, who is forced to live, while everyone who "deserves to live" dies. And WILL die, around them.

"And You can't die. That's on all of US!" Logan says, clearly referring to himself living forever... And "us" being the people HE loved. He saw himself as a burden for existing with them, for them. He deflected that onto Wade, as if the people in Wade's life must feel that way too, but didn't really mean that. He meant it about himself. Logan believes he was a burden on the people he loves, the people he lost. That's probably why he left too, and didn't come back when they called out for him to. He distanced himself to protect them, and protect himself from that fear of rejection that he feels is so imminent, and them not having him, is the one element that led to none of them surviving without him. He was always the key. He was always wanted, and he was always important and needed. He just couldn't ever believe that.

Man, that's why it became so personal for Logan too, when he was shown Wade's photograph of his family. Because HE had a family, and he would do anything now to save them. Just like Wade. He held that photograph all night, he went and got it when it fell out of the car, he kept looking at it. It became personal for him, when he identified with it. That Honda scene really was their turning point of everything. That's when Logan cared with everything. He got it. Wade is the him he couldn't be. But now he can.

I dropped some heat with this one.

Extra little personal context/thought notes: Maybe I just spotted it because I have a natural knack for psychology, I'm hyperobservant, highly empathetic and deeply feeling, and I'm also years experienced of my parents and whole family treating me the same exact toxic lashout way almost every other day. That's a workweek for me to see through toxic lashout anger BS. These are not my gifs!!! They were created by another amazing account. I will refind their @ and tag them!! >>> It's @landoslastnerve ! Thank you friend! 🤍

Also wanted to include someone's tags from those gifs:

.

[likeumeanit9497]

wanna see? | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

summary: during a night of heavy drinking, y/n tells chris that her roommate, who had slept with him weeks prior, had been less than impressed by his skills in the bedroom. chris asks if y/n believes her roommate, and when she says she does, he decides to prove her wrong.

warnings: SMUTTTTT; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); p in v; DIRTY TALK; unprotected sex; drinking; spanking; ROUGH; 18+

notes: not to gas myself up but...this smut...is insane. i literally wrote all of this in like three hours idk what happened i think my body was taken over by my hormone monster or some shit. but anyways i hope u chris girlies enjoy <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Y/n! Our Uber is two minutes away, are you ready?” My roommate Bree called from the other side of my bedroom door just as I finished applying my lip gloss. “Yep! I’ll be out in a second.” I replied, taking one final look at myself in the full length mirror and adjusting my pleated mini skirt. Satisfied with my appearance, I finally exited my room and found Bree struggling to tie her corset top up herself. “Oh god, let me help.” I sighed, grabbing her shoulders to turn her around so that I could lace her up. “Thanks babe. Oh my god, you look unreal!” She exclaimed, facing me once I was finished, and I smiled sheepishly. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I looked down at my tiny skirt, low cut top, and chunky boots self consciously. “Absolutely fucking not. As a matter of fact I think you should wear that outfit every day for the rest of your life.” She replied before poking my cleavage playfully. I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh shut up, let’s go.” I shoved her shoulder jokingly and we both headed for the front door of our apartment.

“So,” I began once we got on the elevator, “Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” Bree’s fingers were flying across the keyboard on her phone, frantically texting someone. “Um…the usual group I think, probably gonna be a few other random people we don’t know yet, but Nick told me they’re keeping it pretty small this year.” She replied as we got into our Uber and I nodded in acknowledgment.

We were heading to the triplets’ house to celebrate their 21st birthday. Bree and I had met Nick Matt and Chris about a year ago, and the five of us had grown extremely close since then. It was a short drive from our place to theirs, but still I pulled out two mini bottles of tequila and handed one to Bree. She raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “We didn’t have time for a pre game.” I said simply before raising my bottle to cheers her. She laughed before doing the same, and we both took our shot. “Fucking ew,” She said, shuddering, “I hate tequila.” It was my turn to laugh. “The first shot is always the worst, remember?” She nodded hesitantly. “True enough.”

“So…you think things are gonna be weird with you and Chris? This is the first time you’ve seen him since-” Bree cut me off by waving her hand nonchalantly. “Nah, it’ll be fine. For him it meant nothing, and you already know what it was for me.” I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.

A few weeks ago, I was awoken from my sleep at 3 a.m. by Bree barging into my room to tell me that she had just slept with Chris. This news shocked me, since I knew that she had been pining after Matt since we first met them. When I asked her to explain how the fuck that happened, her only explanation was that she was drunk enough to pretend that Chris was Matt. Initially, I had been concerned that their intimacy would make things weird in our group, but both of them seemed to be completely unbothered by it.

“Alright well, let’s just enjoy the night.” I said as our Uber pulled up to the house. “And who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky with the right triplet tonight.” I joked before walking up to the front door, side by side with Bree. She sighed. “Probably not. Pretty sure all hope of that disappeared once I opened my legs for his brother.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I realized that I was drunk. Bree and I had arrived at the house about an hour ago, and we both immediately took three tequila shots back to back in honour of the triplets’ birthday. Thirty minutes later, we took another trio of shots, and that was more than enough to get me absolutely wasted. I haphazardly reapplied my lipgloss before exiting the washroom and heading back over to the kitchen to grab something else to drink.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Shouted Nick over the loud music before rushing from the cluster of people he was with and grabbing the bottle of tequila from my hand. “Pretty sure you don’t need any more of that right now. How about some water?” He phrased it like a question, but didn’t wait for me to respond before grabbing a solo cup and filling it with water. I made a weak attempt at protesting, but deep down I knew that he was right; I was so far gone and the night was still young. “Thanks Nicky.” I said once he brought me the cup of water, and he rolled his eyes. “Ew. Don’t call me that. Now come over here and hang out with us.” He led me to the kitchen table, where him, Chris, Matt, Nate, and a few of their other friends were chatting.

“Hey Y/n, you want a shot?” Nate asked, a bottle of vodka gleaming in his hand. Just as I was about to respond, Nick cut me off with an aggressive “No!”, causing me to pout. “Oh yeah, you’re wasted kid.” Chris said with a shot glass in his hand. I looked at him for a moment, taking in his disheveled appearance and blood shot eyes. “Yeah well so are you.” I retorted weakly, and he chuckled. “It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He said before immediately lifting his glass to cheers with the rest of the group.

I stood there sipping my water slowly as they all took their shots, my eyes focused on Chris’ sharp jaw as he grimaced from the taste of the alcohol. I continued to watch his mouth as he spoke to the person to his right, caught in a drunk trance and intrigued by the rosy colour of his lips.

If I was being honest, I had felt a certain attraction towards Chris since I met him. It wasn’t exactly a crush, and I certainly didn’t have any sort of serious feelings for him, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t ever been tempted to go there with him before. There was a time, early on in our friendship, where we almost crossed that line.

I had been helping him hang posters on the wall above his bed, when he suddenly tackled me onto the mattress. It started off playful, but after a few moments of us play fighting, he ended up on top of me and the mood in the room completely changed. The smiles on our faces disappeared, and I felt my heart begin to race as his lips moved closer and closer to mine. Just as our lips brushed, the sound of Matt’s footsteps coming down the basement stairs caused us to jump apart, and we never spoke of that moment again.

Outside of that time, him and I had only ever acted as very good friends. As a matter of fact, out of all of the triplets I definitely got along with Chris the best. We both had similar personalities, and could joke around without worrying about hurting each other’s feelings.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Nick’s voice to my left. “Y/n, did I tell you how unbelievably hot you look tonight?” I giggled, noticing that his voice was beginning to sound slurred even to me, so he was clearly drunk. “You did, but thank you Nick.” I replied, smoothing down my skirt and batting my eyelashes jokingly in his direction. I thoughtlessly glanced at Chris, and found his glossy eyes trailing slowly down my figure; clearly admiring my outfit.

“Hey Y/n, have you seen Bree?” Asked Nate, and I looked around the room quickly, realizing that I hadn’t seen her since I used the washroom. “I saw her go outside a little while ago, probably went to smoke.” Replied Matt, and I smiled to myself knowing that Bree will love the fact that he has been secretly keeping tabs on her whereabouts. “Speaking of Bree,” Chris started, turning back to look at me, “Did she tell you about what happened two weeks ago?”

The group grew silent for a moment as they waited for me to respond. I took a sip from my water and nodded. “She sure did.” Chris smirked. “I’m surprised she even had to tell you. You must have been out cold if you slept through all that noise she was making.” The entire group groaned, clearly disturbed by Chris’ lack of filter. “Oh my god! Goodbye.” Nick threw his hands in the air before storming off to join Madi on the couch in the living room.

I scoffed, grabbing the bottle of vodka from Nate and taking a swig. “Bullshit.” I replied simply, wincing from the burn as the vodka travelled to my stomach. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?” Even in my drunken state I was very aware of the amount of eyes on me awaiting a response. “Well, I asked her to rate the sex on a scale from one to ten. She said six.” The group broke into laughter, and Chris’ jaw clenched as he smirked. “Hmm, funny.” He replied.

“You asked for the wrong number,” Said Nate through his laughter, “You should have asked her for the inches.” Chris grabbed the bottle of vodka from me before bringing it to his lips. “Oh I did,” I smiled, leaning towards Chris’ ear before continuing in a whisper so that only he could hear, “I believe her exact words were, ‘nothing special’.” Chris smirked, swiping his tongue across his front teeth. “Oh really? And you believe that?” He responded, and I nodded, crossing my arms across my chest. “I have no reason to not believe her.” We stood there for a moment, both of us just staring at the other tauntingly as the rest of the group just watched in silence, clearly feeling left out of the conversation all of a sudden. Finally, after letting his eyes travel down my body slowly again, Chris spoke.

“You wanna see for yourself?”

It took every fibre of my being to keep my jaw from physically dropping at his words. “Uh, what the fuck are we talking about here?” Nate said, his voice tentative. I kept my gaze on Chris, hoping that my eyes weren’t giving away how shocked I was. I watched him watch me; his bright blue eyes drilling into mine, his lips upturned in a confident smirk. Realizing I had been silent for too long, I blinked repeatedly and cleared my throat to regain my nonchalant composure before shrugging. “Sure.” I heard Matt groan beside me as I grabbed the vodka from Chris, taking a sip as I followed him towards the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m gonna be sick.” Matt’s distant voice shouted as Chris and I descended the stairs and walked into his dark bedroom.

Once Chris shut and locked his bedroom door, I felt a pit in my stomach begin to grow. I suddenly broke into a fit of laughter from the ridiculousness of this situation. “What are you laughing at kid?” Asked Chris, beginning to chuckle himself. I took a moment to catch my breath before responding. “You’re not actually gonna let me see your dick, are you?” I clutched my stomach as I tried to control my laughter, and he shrugged. “I will if you want to see it.” I bit my lip in contemplation, trying desperately to think properly through my drunk fog. Failing miserably, I nod my head.

Chris smirked. “Come here then.” I put the bottle of vodka down on his desk and walked over to where he was standing in the middle of his room. I stopped about a foot away from him, but he gently pulled me closer. Looking at my face, he finally pulled me up against him; rubbing an uncertain thumb against the small of my back. “Wait, I’m not hard right now.” He chuckled, seeming to have his own moment of consciousness. I smiled up at him and tilted my head, placing a hand on his stomach. “Well I need to see it in its full glory. How else am I gonna know if you’re telling the truth?” His thumb stopped its movement on my back, and a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes.

“Okay, then make me feel good baby.”

My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his before grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth and pulling slightly; watching as it snapped back into place. My right hand slowly traveled down his stomach towards his waistband, where I let it linger for a moment before moving down to his crotch. There, I had to keep myself from audibly gasping; as even through his pants, his fast growing bulge was in fact huge.

Chris smiled lazily as my hand continued to palm his clothed dick. “Impressed yet?” My eyes snapped to his, and I decided to maintain my unimpressed persona. I hummed, my lips touching his but not quite kissing them. “Is this all you got Chris?” I bit his lip once more just before it turned up in a smirk. “Not quite.”

I gasped in shock as Chris spun me around and slammed me against the door, attacking my lips with his own. His kiss was full of a sort of animalistic hunger, and I was consumed by the taste of peppermint and vodka. He pressed me even harder against the wall as he rolled his hips against me, and I fought the urge to whimper at the feeling of his restrained cock against my needy core. He brought both of his hands up and pulled my low-cut top down to free my tits before grabbing one in each hand. Detaching his lips from mine, he took a moment to look at my chest before attaching his mouth to my left nipple; swirling his tongue around its sensitive nerves before moving onto the right.

Pulling away from my tits and once again coming face-to-face with me, he spoke. “Get on your knees.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and began guiding me down to the ground. Now at the same height as his bulging member, I watched as he wasted no time in removing his jeans. Now only concealed by his thin boxers, the true size of his cock was much easier to see. I stared in silence for a moment, taking in the fact that his boxers just barely covered its entire length. “Now do you believe me?” He asked from above me. I struggled to find my words, but I didn’t want to end this crazy game that we were playing, so I shook my head. “I’ve seen bigger.” I replied, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Chris rolled his eyes before pulling his boxers down to his knees. Now fully exposed, his cock smacked my face as it sprung free from its restraint. I couldn’t help but stare at it in awe — it had to be at least eight inches — as the faint light in the room reflected on its beautiful veins. “Open your mouth.” Chris’ commanding voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked up at him in shock. “What?” He tilted his head, “You said you’ve seen bigger, so you should have no problem swallowing this cock. So open your mouth.” His dirty words went right to my heat, and I felt my panties begin to flood with arousal.

Chris used both hands to collect all of my hair and held it out of my face as I wrapped my lips around the first few inches of his cock. Starting slow, I swirled my tongue around his sensitive tip before bobbing my head; taking a bit more of his length with each pump. I released his cock from my mouth for a second to catch my breath, before quickly leaning back in and deep throating his entire length. I heard a hiss escape his lips as my nose brushed against the sprinkle of hair against his lower stomach, and I began moving my head up and down his entire length; making sure to get every inch of him in my mouth.

“F-fuck, Y/n, that’s good. Keep going.” Chris rasped, and he began thrusting his hips at the same pace I was moving at. I moaned around his cock as his grip on my hair tightened; halting my movements entirely as he began face fucking me. Tears welled in my eyes as his cock repeatedly slammed into my throat, and I watched his face as his jaw went slack in both concentration and arousal.

Suddenly, all his movements stopped and he pulled me up to my feet. With his lips on mine and his hands tightly grasping my ass, he walked me backwards towards his bed. Once my heels reached the edge of the bed, Chris reached under my skirt and slid my panties down my legs. Feeling myself lose all sense of control, I didn’t hesitate when he ordered me to lay on my stomach with my ass in the air. I began trying to remove my skirt, but was stopped short by a sharp slap to my ass. “No, leave it on. You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” My back arched subconsciously from his words, and I began to tremble in anticipation.

I felt the bed shift as Chris climbed on, and I shuddered from the heat of his breath against my core as he spoke. “You want to talk shit about how you don’t think I can make girls scream, then you better stay fucking silent.” He gave me barely any time to register his words before his mouth connected to my core. Working his tongue relentlessly against my clit, I buried my face in his duvet to keep from making any noise. Using both hands to massage my ass as he continued to devour my cunt, he very quickly proved to me that he did in fact know how to eat pussy.

His mouth moved from my clit to my opening, and I couldn’t stop the guttural moan from passing my lips as his tongue began to plunge into me. Immediately, he stopped his movements and slapped my ass hard. “What did I say?” He asked, his gravelly voice filled with a sinister edge. “S-sorry.” I replied, pushing my core back in an attempt at reconnecting with his talented mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He replied before finally re-attaching his mouth to my hole. I bit down on my lip — so hard that it began to bleed — in order to keep myself from making another noise as I felt an orgasm approach. Chris continued using his tongue to fuck me as my legs began to shake and my brain grew fuzzy.

Like a tidal wave, my orgasm overtook my body and I began to convulse uncontrollably. I was somehow able to stifle my sounds of pleasure, even when Chris moaned into my pussy as I felt myself squirt all over his face. Without even giving me a moment to recover, Chris straightened his body up onto his knees, grabbed onto my hips, and plunged every substantial inch of his cock into me. At this, I couldn’t help but scream out in shock, and Chris promptly pulled out of me; leaving my dripping core feeling empty. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Do you want me to stop?” He tapped my pussy with his cock as he waited for me to respond. Scared to say anything, I simply shook my head. “Are you ready to admit that Bree was lying?” I turned my head so that I could see him behind me.

“Size doesn’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use it. So go ahead and prove yourself right.” At my words, Chris shook his head as his lips turned up in a smirk. Immediately, his dick slid back into me slowly, and I felt my hole stretch more and more as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, before pulling his hips back so far that his tip was barely resting inside of me; and then slammed all of himself back into my cervix. He continued at this agonizingly slow and deep pace for a while, and used his words to taunt me the entire time.

“You’re such a good girl, taking all my cock like this.”

“I bet you feel so good right now baby.”

“Oh fuck, keep creaming all over this big dick.”

Suddenly, Chris pulled out of me and flipped me onto my back. Wasting no time, he hooked my legs around his neck and pushed his inches back into me. I stared at him, mouth open, as he watched my pussy swallow his cock with each quick thrust. Using one arm to support his weight, he placed his free hand on my stomach and pressed down. “You feel that?” He began, finding the spot where my stomach was bulging, “Feel how deep in your guts my cock can get?” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I bit on my own arm to stifle the noises that were dying to escape it as I felt my second orgasm approaching.

Chris seemed to notice my impending climax, as he leaned forward to reach even deeper into me. “You want to cum, hmm?” He cooed, bringing a hand to my cheek. With my face contorted in the confusing combination of pleasure and frustration, I nodded my head. He moved my arm away from my mouth and planted a deep kiss there. “You can cum as hard as you want, just as soon as you tell me how good my cock makes you feel.” I whined silently, my overstimulated nerves causing my body to fill with a sudden desperation. “Come on, Y/n,” Chris brought his thumb down between our bodies and began rubbing my clit, “I want you to cum for me.”

I was panting now, feeling as though I might explode from the overwhelming pressure within my body. I was quickly realizing that I was losing this battle, and it was time to throw in the towel.

“Fuck Chris you’re so big.” I nearly screamed out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at keeping my composure. “Feels so good, please let me cum.” I begged, and watched his face as his pupils dilated from my words. “That’s my girl. Now let go.” His hips continued pounding into me as I finally gave into my orgasm, and I lost all control of my mind as I spewed a plethora of moan-filled profanities into the room. My walls contracted uncontrollably around his girth as my orgasm tore through my body, and I felt my nails dig into the skin on his shoulders.

“Oh fuck Y/n, gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” His words came out shaky, and I didn’t hesitate before responding, “In me, please baby.” I begged, wanting to feel his warm seed spill into my worn out core. “Shiiit.” He hissed, his body slowing to a near-halt as he rode out his own orgasm. With slow, lazy thrusts, he pushed his cum deep into me as his cock twitched repeatedly.

Eventually, his movements stopped completely, and he slowly pulled out of me and walked towards his bathroom. When he returned, he came back with a towel and used it to help clean me up in silence while I caught my breath.

“I might be drunk,” He started, “But that was hot as fuck.” I laughed, holding my spinning head before sitting up. “We are never to speak of this again.” I said as I got to my feet to retrieve my underwear. “Sure sure…until the next time we do it right?” I rolled my eyes at his response and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Shut up. I need a shot, let’s go.” I headed for the door once he was fully clothed and together we began to climb the stairs. “How likely is it that everyone up here knows what we did?” I whispered to him as we neared the top. “Oh very likely, but who cares? It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He winked at me as we made it to the kitchen, where everyone’s eyes immediately landed on us.

“Oh god.” I muttered under my breath as I hurried over to Bree, who was smiling knowingly at me as she began pouring out two shots of tequila. “Please tell me one of these are mine.” I whispered to her, and she laughed. “It sure is. You have a good time down there?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she handed me a slice of lime. “If you really meant it when you said his dick was ‘nothing special’, then I’m gonna need the names and numbers of the guys you were ranking him against.” She tilted her head back and exploded into laughter before lifting her shot glass in the air and urging me to do the same. “You got it, babe. Just as soon as I get Matt to fall in love with me.” I laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before raising my own glass. “Cheers!”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[holybibly]

ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕫𝕪 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 | 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: smut, idol!Au, s2l, fragment of life

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 12,9k

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Seven times you've been lucky, on the eighth Song Mingi from Ateez shows you a side of himself that his fans will probably never get to know.

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾: Pervert Idol! Mingi, Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, сreampie, sexual audio recording, rough sex, praise kink and more.

𝔸/ℕ: Wrote this overnight, it's really crazy. Gosh, I am so excited to show you the handsome Mingi who has become a favourite for an overnight train ride poll. I hope it lives up to your expectations. This is one of the 4 pieces I've been working on. It brings us closer to a tender and sensual smut with Seonghwa (I'm still suffering from the idea).

I'll make a masterlist this weekend.

Comments, reblogs and questions are always welcome. I'm completely open to communication, so don't be shy bunnies. We have a safe space here.

Lots of love to you all. Have fun on your night train ride with Mingi.

dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

"Take care, darling; you never know what may happen. Especially in the night." Asa's voice was soft, but with a note of insistence.

"Asa, you don't have to worry so much. It's just a night train; I've done it a thousand times." You sigh tiredly, knowing it was pointless to argue with Asa, and yet, in a way, she was right. You never know what might happen at any given moment in your life.

"There's always a first time, Y/N. Take care, and be sure to text me when you get on the train."

"Sure, I will see you soon." You pull the sleeves of your shortened jumper tighter as you press the call disconnect button.

The night air is cool and fresh, dancing on your skin like a light breeze, crawling under the hem of your short skirt, tickling the soft, milky skin of your bare thighs. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you begin to regret your choice of clothing. It's too open and too revealing, both for the time of day and for the situation.

But it doesn't matter; the train is warm and cosy in its own way, and soon you'll be relaxing on the soft seats of the dark compartment under the peaceful rhythmic rocking, but most importantly, you'll be alone without the noise and bustle. Travelling to Tokyo is great, and you enjoy every second, but the crowds get tiring and the incessant noise starts to stress you out.

That is why an overnight train journey is a nice and relaxing change of pace.

It's a spontaneous trip to another city, just for a few days—a place quieter and more secluded than the never-sleeping Tokyo. Asa is waiting for you to finally join her, having travelled there the day before yesterday. Rumour has it that this is also the town where you're most likely to find the most Korean idols, who have come to relax in the luxurious hot springs.

They always come here to spend their long-awaited holidays without the constant camera surveillance and screaming fans. You didn't care if you met any of the celebrities there. Seeing a pretty face here and there was a nice bonus, but the main purpose of your trip was the hot springs and a few gourmet restaurants with high user ratings.

It's not that you were totally ignorant of idols; you were aware of many groups thanks to Asa and her crush on pretty boys, but you were a realist, and it was just stupid to have rosy dreams for a guy who had never seen you in his life, and if he had, he probably wouldn't remember you. That's why it didn't matter to you at all whether or not you met any of the pretty idols along the way.

You always thought night trains were the best way to travel. Travelling during the day is too hectic, too noisy, and too impractical. Instead of sitting in a stuffy metal box on wheels and wasting precious time, you could be doing something useful. There's always the chance of a night's rest, even if it's just for a few hours, and the next morning you'll be somewhere else, full of energy and good humour.

This was the seventh time you'd travelled by overnight train, and so far you'd considered yourself lucky. You were so grateful that you'd never had to share the confined space of your compartment with anyone else. The prospect of sleeping next to a stranger wasn't the most appealing one, and it would no doubt make you very nervous.

You cross your fingers in the hope that your luck will hold this time around. As you walk down the aisle of the train, you shift your gaze from your ticket to the small numbers on the tightly closed compartment doors. You try to find your seat. When you finally find it, you exhale with relief and push open the heavy sliding door. You are glad to be able to sit down and stretch your legs, taking off the most uncomfortable shoes in the world. It's first-class. The door opens silently and smoothly, allowing a thin strip of light from the narrow corridor into the secluded compartment, illuminating it with a bright yellow glow.

You've never thought about sharing your space with anyone else because you're so used to being alone. Except for a few passengers who seem to share your point of view, most people prefer to travel during the day, so the night trains are usually almost empty. Once your eyes get used to the changing light, you can't help but gasp at what you see.

"Oh!"

You're not alone. There's someone else in the semi-darkness of your compartment.

Someone from whom it seems impossible to take your eyes off, no matter how rude it might be of you to do so. There's a man sitting on the seat directly in front of you, with his legs spread wide open and his mobile phone held loosely in one hand. He is an incredibly attractive guy. You quickly look away, embarrassed that you're openly checking him out, as your eyes slide down his body. He's dressed in a black suit that hugs his thick thighs. God, this is embarrassing. His jacket is folded beside him, leaving him wearing a single black shirt and a few buttons undone on his chest, contrasting beautifully with his smooth golden skin.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his, and you gasped. You somehow know who those eyes belong to, and who doesn't? Two puddles of melted milk chocolate, the soft, sugary look of puppy dog eyes—Song Mingi, a gorgeous, cheeky rapper from Ateez. Oh, boy.

You swallow loudly at the realisation that your eyes aren't the only ones analysing the stranger in front of you.

"Good evening." You bow and lower your head as you realise that you've clearly been staring at the idol all this time. Suddenly, you feel so ashamed that you can't even imagine meeting his gaze again. In return, you get a small hum of approval from him and a polite nod of the head from him.

You finally decide to go inside and close the door behind you after a few seconds of awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot. The lights inside are rather dim, a bit of a nuisance despite the fact that they hardly illuminate your compartment at all, and you wonder if he would mind if you asked him to turn them off completely at some point. Eventually, it starts to make your sensitive eyes ache, but you don't want to make Mingi feel uncomfortable by asking for it.

The atmosphere was already awkward and strange, and you didn't want to make it worse. He must have decided to take the night train for the same reasons you did. And here you are, the two of you, strangers, although can you really call a guy the whole world knows a stranger? In the semi-darkness of a night compartment, without prying eyes or cameras.

The situation seemed to be stressful, and that's why you were so grateful that up until now you hadn't had to share your space with anyone else on overnight journeys. Even so, there was something strangely intoxicating and exhilarating about the whole thing.

Does it look like your luck has run out, or have you managed to grab it by the tail?

You take your bag off your shoulder and tiptoe up to put it on the luggage rack with your back to him. Unfortunately for you, you can't get to it. Right now you're cursing your short stature for looking utterly ridiculous in front of a good-looking guy, and not just any guy, but Song Mingi himself. You can feel the muscles in your legs tense up in pain as you try to stretch yourself up, and you have the feeling that the bag in your hands is getting heavier and heavier the more you try to put it on the shelf. It's so embarrassing that you let out a muffled, awkward laugh.

"I'll give you a hand with that." The unexpected touch of the palm of your hand against your lower back upsets your balance, and your body jerks.

Your head jumps up, goose bumps running up your arms and creeping down your back as you realise that Mingi is now standing next to you, too close to be considered decent. The scent of his woody, tart perfume fills the small space between you, and you long to bury your face in his broad, muscular chest and take a deep breath of him.

He easily takes the bag from you and sets it on top of the top compartment, the touch of his other hand still palpable—hot, confident, and somehow possessive—as it slides down, almost to the curve of your butt. 

You look down and suddenly realise how far your skirt has been pulled up. It now exposes most of your milky thighs and barely covers your bottom. Trying to look as decent as possible, you pull down the hem of your skirt with a soft squeak to get your clothes back in place. Your cheeks are flushed with shame and embarrassment. Looking up again, you realise that Mingi is watching you intently, watching every move of yours.

"You're so tiny." He says this, tilting his head to one side and letting the corner of his soft, plump pink lips curve up in a smirk.

Your heart flutters at the thought, perhaps a little more than it should be doing. You would never have thought that you would feel a strange mixture of emotions—something between excitement and extreme embarrassment—over something so trivial, perhaps even offensive.

"Maybe you're the one that's too tall." You realise this and immediately feel sorry for yourself, desperately wanting to put your hand over your mouth. God, can't you just make yourself look even stupider in his eyes? You shouldn't have said that aloud.

In response to your words, Mingi hums and raises an eyebrow. There is a gleam of amusement in his beautiful brown eyes; your comment seems to amuse him. Your cheeks heat up from the blush that is spreading over them, but you're grateful for the playful reaction; it makes the situation a little less weird and awkward.

You really should sit back in your seat and shut up so you don't say too much, something along the lines of, "You look absolutely stunning in that suit; can I sit on your lap?".

Eventually, you turn your attention to the hand still on your hip, and the sight of his long fingers adorned with massive rings makes your knees tremble more than you'd like to admit.

When he pulls away, you find that the loss of his touch is making you feel as cold as ice. You quickly come to your senses and sit down on the opposite side of the idol, who follows your lead and settles down in his own seat.

You take out your phone and text Asa, as promised. God, you'll have so much to talk about when you meet. Awkwardly crumpling the hem of your skirt, you wait for the train to depart. For a long minute, there is silence in the compartment—an utterly awkward, embarrassing silence.

Every time you cast a quick glance towards Mingi, you notice that his eyes don't seem to leave you for a second. He presses the tip of his tongue lightly against the corner of his plump, beautiful lips, as if analysing your every move.

It makes you nervous to be in your own skin.

"I'm Mingi." Your ears perk up in an instant as soon as he starts to speak again.

When he says his name, his voice sounds so soft, soothing, and confident. You can't remember the last time you've been so attracted to another man's voice. It makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, and maybe, just maybe, it makes you squeeze your thighs a little harder than you should.

 

This is messed up.

"I know." You answer quietly. This is a fucking embarrassment. You decide you've humiliated yourself enough in front of him, so after a moment, you add. "Y/N, nice to meet you."

"Ah, so you know, eh?" He smiles brightly, and you somehow melt. "And here I was thinking' we were just strangers to each other. That's not a problem for you, Y/N, is it?" The way he says your name takes your breath away from you. It's something in his nature—a hidden but imposing dominance, so deep with a quiet note of authority. There were darker layers lurking beneath that image of sweet charm.

You have no idea why he has such an effect on you, but it's safe to say the overwhelming feeling is not entirely unwelcome.

"No, no, it's fine." You wave your hands in an awkward manner. "It should have been my turn to ask if it was OK. At a time like this, I guess you didn't expect anyone else to be using the train." Your cheeks flushed, and you nervously bit your lower lip.

"How cute."

You bring your hand up to your face and press it against your hot cheeks, trying to cool them down a little. Cute! It's a real miracle that you manage to stop yourself from squealing enthusiastically.

"Are you going travelling, Y/N?" He tilts his head to the side in an interested way, like a curious puppy, and you can't help but smile in response to that.

.

"Yes, to the hot springs." Looking anywhere but at Mingi, you reply humbly.

"Ah, I see. Takayu Onsen?"

"Tamagawa Onsen, actually."

At your words, the idol nods understandingly, and a dazzling smile appears on his lips. God, can he get any more handsome?

"Of course it's Tamagawa. Somehow I can't imagine you anywhere else; this place is your kind of place. Then you're stuck with me. I'm going there too; the boys and I have to spend a few days there before the concerts." He says it in such an easy and casual way. As if you've known each other for a long time.

"Um, it's quite a long trip. Are you sure you'll be comfortable?" You ask Mingi, vaguely hoping that you'll be able to sneak away from him and find yourself comfortably alone again. For some reason, his presence makes you feel very uncomfortable and makes you tingle. There's something special about him, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"It's fine. Really, don't worry." Mingi settled himself more comfortably in his seat and spread his long legs a little further apart, causing the tight fabric of his suit trousers to stretch and outline the contours of his gorgeous, muscular thighs. His whole posture seemed to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." "Actually, I'm the one who should be asking if your boyfriend is upset that you will spent the night with another man." There is something about the way he says it that makes you tense up inside, but you ignore it completely and answer quietly instead, crossing your legs shyly.

"I've no boyfriend." And without knowing it, you give him exactly the answer that Mingi wanted. "I'm just on a road trip with a friend." Shying away from making full eye contact with him, his gaze so intense and focused, your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as you speak.

When he speaks again, you can almost hear the smile in Mingi's deep voice.

"Then I hope you'll enjoy it fully."

Silence falls over you once more. You keep looking at your shoes, desperately wanting to take them off and curl up on the soft seat. But Mingi's presence prevents you from relaxing completely. As the train sets in motion, you give a slight jerk. Midnight, it's now. It will take about eight hours to get to Tamagawa, and you should arrive at the station in the morning.

You let your eyes slide down from your shoes to Mingi's legs in stealth. His thighs are so muscular and strong that he could probably squeeze you between them, and you wouldn't be able to move an inch, trapped as you were under his tall, strong body. You feel warm between your legs, and you bite your lower lip, hoping Mingi is too busy phoning to notice you're staring at his thighs. And you have to push away the thought of how nice it would be to ride one of those beautiful, thick thighs and rub your pussy against it.

"This is a beautiful pendant. It looks good on you." The sound of Mingi's voice makes you jerk, and you raise your eyes to him fearfully.

Instinctively, you press your fingers against the gleaming heart of crystal that sits on your chest. It's massive—heavy on your chest, glimmering cold, hard to miss.

"Thanks; it's my favourite too." The compliment takes you completely by surprise, but at the same time, it brings a slight, sweet pout to your lips.

Mingi can't help but think about what that pendant is going to look like between your naked tits while you're being scolded like there's no tomorrow. He can bet that it's going to be fucking amazing. His plump lips curl up in a smirk.

"Do you always wear it?" Contextual question: When you get fucked, do you take it off?

"Yes. It's my lucky charm." As if to warm it up, your fingers wrap around the large crystal, rubbing it a little. "It always brings me good luck."

"How appropriate." Mingi observes, chuckling grimly.

For an idol, Mingi seems inordinately interested in learning more about you, but you naively chalk it up to a trivial lack of social contact and a limited opportunity to see the world without the constant scrutiny of managers and the attention of cameras.

You're too enamoured with his sweet, playful personality, reminiscent of a big, soft puppy. You'll fancy yourself under his scrutiny and answer all his questions, even the ones that make you blink in confusion or blush hotly. Mingi is a real sweetheart, and you can totally agree with his fans: He's such a nice, nice guy. Little do you know about him...

He does it almost mechanically, moving his hands so you can't take your eyes off them, twirling the massive silver rings on his long phalanges, touching his plush, juicy lips with his fingertips, and noticing the beautiful gel on his nails. Your body reacts to his every move; your lower abdomen feels pleasantly tight, and you can feel a faint throbbing between your legs every time he smiles at you, making you squeeze your thighs together and squirm nervously in your seat.

"Sorry for asking so many questions. You know it's not always easy to talk to someone." He lowers his eyes shyly and bites his plump lip. You immediately try to put his concern at ease.

"I get it; being an idol must be hard, having to be in control all the time."

Damn, you were so right; you'd run away from him as soon as you opened the door to the compartment if you only knew what dirty, lustful thoughts he's having about you and how his sweet smile hides a passionate desire to push you into the padded seat and fuck you so hard you can't think or walk.

But Mingi was good at it. He could control his face and body very well, thanks to Seonghwa's great example. He had taught him only the best.

"You must be tired; if you want, we can turn off the light and you can go to bed." Mingi said, noticing that you were rubbing your eyes more and more, stumbling over your own words, and yawning all the time. "You can trust me; I'll take care of you, Y/N." The tone is so sweet, too sweet, to hide the true meaning of what he's saying: Sweetheart, I want to jerk off to your sleepy, pretty face as you relax in my presence—so seductive and vulnerable.

That deep, honeyed tone inevitably makes your thighs clench, but with it comes a flood of guilt as you feel your panties get wet, and dirty thoughts put you in such an uncomfortable position that you have to fidget awkwardly on the seat, praying by all that is holy that your embarrassing arousal goes unnoticed and you don't leave a wet spot on the seat.

"Are you sure?" You're terribly tired from the day. The offer is so tempting, and Mingi is so charming and respectful. A real gentleman.

Mingi smiles softly, but it is a smile that looks a little predatory at the edges as his big, hot palm comes down on your bare knee. It sends a shiver down the length of your skin.

"Sure, go to bed, doll."

You feel yourself blushing again, but you can't tell why—the heavy, hot touch of his hand against your skin or the caressing nickname. God, this guy is a threat. You give a slow nod and turn your gaze to the dimly lit wall sconce on the wall. Mingi follows your eyes and reaches up to turn it off, plunging the entire compartment into a pleasant darkness. The faint, diffused light of the moon through the window is the only source of light that allows you to see each other's faces. A smile of gratitude is on your face in response to his actions.

"Thanks, I had no idea how much my eyes were hurting."

"You're welcome, doll."

You try to ignore the way his voice seems to sink lower. It takes on such a velvety, dark tone that it makes you even wetter between your legs. You pull back. Mingi has been so sweet and polite to you all this time; you should be ashamed of these feelings.

As you lean back in the empty seat beside you and close your heavy eyelids, the touch of his hand fades. You feel a strange comfort in Mingi's company, despite your earlier apprehension at being so vulnerable in the company of a stranger. Despite being a world-famous star and just a damn gorgeous man, he really is so kind and attentive to you. You do not dare to doubt what he says. Mingi has promised to take care of you, and you are strangely comforted by the thought. In fact, he really is a very caring man. You begin to suspect that this is true for all of them.

Before you close your eyes again, you look at Mingi. His dark gaze is fixed on you, and there is something raw in the depths of those chocolate-coloured irises of his. The moonlight falling on him makes his chiselled face look sharper and sexier, and there is no longer the sweet smile and adorable puppy-dog expression on his handsome features. It makes you take a sharp breath before your fluttering eyelids stay closed, weighed down by sleep. Your whole body relaxes, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, lulled by the peaceful rocking of the train and the calm presence of Mingi.

Mingi just can't take his eyes off you. You look so tiny, so soft and juicy with your plump arse and the most delicious pair of tits he's ever seen. They're perfect to hold in his hands and his hands are just itching to squeeze them into his palms, feel their weight, pull on those pink nipples until you start wriggling and sobbing. Oh, how he wants to hear the sweet sounds you make as he fills you with his cock, or even better, as you moan out his name.

For tonight at least, he just wants to have you. Mingi isn't at all picky about where he wants to get laid; a night train isn't the worst option. He's been fucked in more uncomfortable places than this. But that wouldn't be very nice of him. Would it? He said he'd look after you while you slept so innocently in front of him in that seductive little skirt. He wonders if you're wearing lace or silk knickers. It's probably silk, because you look as if you're enjoying the light and soft touch of the silk fabric against your sweet pussy. You must also be very sensitive.

Y/N. He is absolutely mesmerised by you. Everything about you is so enticing. The way your round cheeks blush, the beautiful way you smile, and especially the way you squeeze your thighs together every time he turns to you. You are a little slut. Mingi is absolutely delighted with how he's making you feel. He makes you nervous. He wants nothing more than to get under your skin even more.

But if Mingi has learned anything by now, it's that despite your best efforts, you're not a very subtle person. In fact, you're easy to read. Your petite body gives you away all the time. Your teeth bite your plump lower lip until it's swollen and red. Your eyes never leave his hands as he deliberately plays with his rings, causing you to lose your train of thought. You're probably thinking about him using his fingers to stretch your tight hole or using his fingers to fuck your soft, wet mouth. Mingi's sure he'll have to spend enough time getting you to take three fingers in your cunt before lowering you on his cock, and maybe you'll even let him play with your virgin arse. Hell, he'll beg you if he must. Fuck his pride at the prospect of being the first to fuck your plump arse. He's going to have to make a video of himself fucking you so stupid and so deep. San is going to go mad when he sees your juicy arse blushing under the palms of his hands and and jiggling seductively every time he enters you up to your balls.

You are definitely something special.

That's what Mingi tells himself over and over and over again. He's just reaching out to you. Nothing more than that.

Just like he promised, he'll take care of you. You'll feel good, and getting his dick wet will be a nice bonus for him.

He takes another good look at your beautiful face as he leans forward in his seat. Your lips are wet, plump and parted, and he can't help but imagine how beautiful they would look stretched around his big cock. You're going to have to practise getting yourself to swallow his dick whole, you probably won't get more than a quarter of him the first time. The thought of it is the cause of the salivation in his mouth. 

Your eyelashes are touching the top of your cheeks, your soft dark hair is beautifully curled up in ringlets, and Mingi wants to mess it up and pull it out. You look absolutely angelic. A real doll. Mingi has never seen an angel before. He can't be blamed for his desire to have a touch and to defile.

Idol or not, Mingi is just a man. 

It all begins with a small movement of his fingers over the kneecap of his knee to the top of his thigh. He can feel how his touch raises the goose bumps on your skin. Mingi feels bolder and lowers his palm all the way down to your thigh, letting it rest gently on your body, and then gently reaches up to the inside of your thigh, making you shiver. At the sight, Mingi licks his lips. It would be easier if he came closer. Would it?

As he kneels down, he places his other hand on your leg, now touching both of your thighs. Your skirt rises with each touch of Mingi's eager hands, lifting the fabric higher and higher each time. He glances over your voluptuous body, his gaze lingering on the spot where your sweater has risen, exposing the soft skin of your stomach and the peeking lower half of your bra. Fuck. He can't quite make out what it is in the dark, but he knows it must be the creamy silk that covers your full breasts. That makes him dig his fingertips harder into your skin.

You move in your sleep, shifting until you're on your back, giving Mingy full access without even wanting it. It's as if you want to make it even easier for his dirty hands to touch your chaste, tantalised body. When he sees an opportunity, Mingy never says no. Carefully, he slides one hand under your skirt while the other continues to massage your thigh in a soothing way. Confirming his earlier thought, his fingers are impatient and run briefly over your panties. They're silk, and they're wet as hell. You're soaked through, and he's already decided that he's definitely taking your panties with him. He'll be sure to jerk off in them when he has a bit of free time later.

"Oh, dolly, you're so damn wet." Mingi moans hoarsely as his fingers slowly slide over the wet material, rubbing it. The furrowed brow quickly disappeared, and the doll's lips parted in a perfect 'o', a short sob escaping from them. "Precious little one."

Your legs twitch in an attempt to squeeze Mingi's forearm, but he quickly calms you, spreading your thighs with his free hand and smiling carnivorously at the soft squeal that escapes your lips as you feel long fingers play with your plump clit through your underwear. If the fans knew what their adored idol was doing, they'd be going crazy. But they probably already knew. Considering the number of female fans they've fucked over the years, the information has leaked out somewhere in the tight circle of their fandom.

Mingi decides he doesn't like the silk barrier. He slides his hand under the silk of your panties and touches the wet warmth of your cunt, making his trousers suddenly feel too tight around his crotch.

As if he'd just discovered a new toy that he wanted to touch and explore before playing with it, he let himself explore the wetness. You are soaking wet, and Mingi can feel that he is gradually losing all self-control and all control over himself. He wants to taste you; he wants to feel you on his tongue; he doesn't even mind rubbing his face against you like a dog. The pressure of his thumb against your throbbing clit finally seems to wake you up. You gasp and begin to open your sleepy eyes. You look around in confusion. Then you let out a startled cry as you noticed Mingi crouching beside you, one hand between your thighs.

"Shhhh." As your legs begin to convulse, Mingi quickly reassures you. "It's all right, doll; it's just me. You can go back to sleeping if you want to. I'll take care of the rest." He whispers it in a velvety, soothing voice, as if he were trying to lure a kitten into his arms.

You still seem to be very disoriented; your eyes are not quite open, and you are whimpering in despair and shame at finding yourself in a situation for which you were totally unprepared. Mingi kneels before you. Song Mingi is kneeling before you with his hand pressed against your pussy. 

It is Mingi's wish that he could do away with all your worries and nerves. He knows he could, if only you would stop squeezing your legs so tightly around his hand.

"M-Mingi, what..." There's a sharp exhale from you at last, as if you're coming to terms with the situation. "What are you doing?"

The idol gives you a seductive smile.

"You looked like you needed help, doll. So needy and restless. Let me help you, huh? Let me take care of you, Y/N." Mingi leans down on your thigh to plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on it. When he lifts his eyes up to you, they're bright and languorous, but with that adorable puppy-dog expression that's so well known to his fans.

"I'm going to take good care of you."

You resist, still stunned by the sight and situation you woke up from, and bring your hands to your chest, unconsciously wrapping your arms around the heart-shaped pendant for reassurance. Mingi allows her fingers to continue doing what they were doing before, slowly circling over your clit, causing you to catch your breath. Your small hand reaches out for Mingi's palm, which is still gripping your thigh tightly, the nails digging into his skin.   "Y-you shouldn't do that. You...you can't act that way; what  if?"You sob in a convulsive manner, your glassy eyes meeting Mingi's. Sexy, gorgeous, and lecherous Mingi, the sweet image of him completely shattered, towers over you even in this position. Despite your words, your body has its own opinion: your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and your breasts are rising and falling rapidly. The way your thighs are still trying to squeeze together and the way more and more moisture is dripping onto Mingi's fingers is a clear sign of approval for his actions to continue.

You're so easy to read. Mingi loves it. He's always liked the more responsive and sensitive type better. For him, what a pleasure it is to fuck them, dumb and docile.

"And why shouldn't I be, huh?" Mingi says as he intertwines his fingers with yours and leans forward to run his nose along your thigh, too close to your pussy. He takes a deep breath. Fuck, you smell delicious and his drool starts to flow. "Because I'm an idol? Is it because I have to be good and obedient? Or is it because you don't want me to, because it seems like that's all you ever think about? Have you had a dirty dream about me? You used to moan so much in your sleep, Y/N."

You hesitate, closing your slanted cat eyes and letting the feel of Mingi's touch envelop you, your lips pressed together to hold back a loud moan. He can already feel you giving in, even though you haven't answered him.

He's good at cajoling. Again, thank Seonghwa for that.

"We shouldn't..." You whine as one of Mingi's long fingers teases at your wet entrance, and the thought of that finger plunging into you makes you shudder. 

"We can do what we want to do, or don't you want to do that? Don't you want me?" He purses his lips, pretending to offend. "You like me. Don't you? I'm your favourite boy, right?"

You nod, feeling more depressed by the second, unable to form a coherent thought. How could that have been the case? You must be dreaming. Dreaming that Mingi of Ateez is kneeling before you.

Oh my God!

"Use your words, doll. Say, "I want you." Speak my name." The idol continues to coax you, and you give in, much to the delight of the Mingi.

"I want you, Mingi." You do your best to keep your eyes on Mingi as you speak, but his gaze is too intense and too strong, and you feel terribly embarrassed. He looks almost predatorily.

Mingi grins fiercely and slowly licks his lips. His finger slides lightly into your wet cunt. In response to this, he hears an intermittent sigh of pleasure from you.

"What a good girl."

You sound so precious as he bends his finger inside you, feeling your velvety walls. Wetness drips down his massive silver rings to the base of his fingers. Mingi wants to record your sweet sounds and include them in the next track so everyone can hear how well he pleases you. He should do it, damned. Hongjoong will be burning with envy when he hears about you. The captain has a weakness for sweet little girls who moan and groan. Fucking pervert.

Mingi lets go of your hand to pick up his forgotten phone from the floor, still finger-fucking you. He quickly opens the audio recording application, hits the 'record' button, and drops the phone on the floor next to him, giving his full attention back to you.

You are so in need of his touch. You can't deny your desire for him. Your body speaks for itself.

"Come on, baby, moan for me. Let everyone hear what a dirty girl you are. Come on. What do you say we put some of your beautiful moans and groans on our new track? Mmm, you're going to hear it all over the place; every time you will remember how good it felt when I fucked your little, tight cunt."

"Oh God, that's... You can't say that." You whimper.

"Don't be embarrassed, gorgeous. Let's get you out of those pretty little knickers so you can sing even more sweetly for me." You nod impatiently, breathing heavily as Mingi helps you to lift your hips and pull your knickers off, quickly slipping them into his pocket. He was quite serious when he said that he wanted to take them with him.

Now that your pussy is fully exposed, Mingi takes the liberty of spreading your legs wide open and stares intently at the clear liquid that oozes out of your hole, causing you to whimper and cover your face in shame. He leans down to leave a hot scarlet and purple hickey on the inside of your thigh.

"Look at how wet you are, fuck." Mingi moans in a guttural voice as his fingers push your folds apart so that they are completely covered in your slick, glistening juices. "You've had a dirty dream, haven't you, baby?"

Your eyes are closed, and your long lashes are fluttering. Your plump lower lip is trapped between your front teeth. You're such a spectacle; oh, how he wants to fuck your brains out. In response to his question, you nod your head shyly.

"Y-yes."

Your embarrassment excites Mingi even more as he slaps your pussy, finally giving in to his perverted desires and feeling the moisture splash against his palm. You let out a shrill squeal, your hips shaking uncontrollably.

"Must have been something fucking satisfying, getting your little cunt that wet, huh?" He grins lecherously as he looks at you. You look tasty enough to make him want to eat you alive.

He should really thank the manager for getting him a ticket on that special train.

Your legs twitched, trying to close, but Mingi's hand stiffly stopped them before letting them close around his forearm. You're so overwhelmed by all the sensations, but you're not at all ready for them to stop.

"I... I don't remember. Maybe I was thinking of you. Or maybe someone else." Having heard from Asa about the jealous nature of the group, you say this deliberately. All of the members were very possessive of their fans and very aggressive towards them. Why should they look to anyone else when they are right here, ready to make all their fans' dreams come true?

Mingi bristled. Sinking his teeth into your thigh and forcing his finger into you, making his ring stick to the sensitive rim of your used hole. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure mix together and turn your thoughts into mush.

"With my fingers fucking you like this, don't you fucking dare say that." He growls, the deep sound of it vibrating against your skin. Mingi slides a second finger inside of you, the two of them gliding through the wetness with ease and a loud slurping sound. "You will think only of me all the time. There is no one who can be better than me, doll."

You throw your head back, your chest rising and falling in a quick motion. The velvety walls of your pussy clench around Mingi's fingers. The sound of your moaning rises as the idol runs his fingers along the plush and tantalising walls of your vagina. They seem to just suck him in. You're so tiny all over, and he wonders if you can take all his cock.

"It's only you, Mingi." The way you howl out his name is all the answer that Mingi needs to hear.

The idol can't resist the temptation to lean forward and put his face between your thighs. His lust takes over; the sight is too exciting. All he had to do was find out if you tasted as sweet as you looked. The reaction is immediate: his tongue is licking a flat line from your slit to your clit, which he is circling greedily in between his plump lips. Your soft thighs tremble, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with a long moan, and your little hands cling to his shoulders.

"Oh, oh, God!" You let out a gasp, a barely audible whimper, your nails digging into the hard flesh beneath your tight-fitting shirt. Mingi is hoping that you are going to scratch him to a bloody pulp. Hell, he's in need of it.

You drive him crazy with your cuteness. Your juices are flowing in abundance all over his tongue. It tastes amazing, just the way he imagined it would, and Mingi thinks that he could get drunk on you. Fuck, he'll be bragging about you for days to come, rubbing it in the faces of the members. What a sweet thing he's managed to get his hands on. He could probably sit there and do that for hours, even days, licking that pretty little cunt of yours until his jaw hurts and his whole face is wet. He may have oral fixation, but that's not something he's going to want to put on his profile.

He sucks furiously on your swollen clit as his fingers begin to penetrate your tight hole, the wet, squelching sounds drowning out the sound of a train rumbling down the tracks. You're just perfect—too perfect for Mingi to ignore and not fuck. You literally taste heaven, and your voice sounds like sin—hot moans of uncontrollable pleasure.

"I...will...ahhh...M-Mingi..." You whimper, pressing your hand to your own mouth, and Mingi passionately wants to stop you and tell you that there's no better sound for his ears than your moaning. But the rational part of his brain, which sounds strangely like Seonghwa, tells him that it's for the best and that it's wise not to attract the attention of outsiders. "Please!"

You beg, and it's beautiful, your words muffled by the small palm of your hand but still clearly audible to him. Your back arched as you pushed your hips forward, forcing Mingi's fingers to dig deeper into you. You squeeze them so hard that the idol can barely move them inside of you at all. You squeeze them so hard that Mingi's chest vibrates with a rather low purr, which only drives you more wildly and adds to the pleasure, finally taking you to an unexpected peak as you cum profusely on Mingi's waiting tongue and fingers. You are flowing everywhere, and Mingi is greedily drinking it all in, insatiable in his quest to bring you to yet another orgasm, to make you so silly and submissive in his hands. He will take it all and more from you.

Mingi is so hungry for you, and you are so juicy and ripe, perfect for eating.

The second orgasm makes your whole body shake, and the stimulation is almost painful. Your hips jerk in Mingi's tight grip as he digs his fingertips into the plush, creamy skin. He simply can't get enough of you. He marvels at how dishevelled you look, lifting his dark gaze. Your head is thrown back, your eyes are closed, your skirt is pulled up high over your hips, and your cropped sweater almost completely exposes your bra. But it is your sweet mouth that beckons him to you completely. Beautiful, plump lips, slick with saliva and bite marks. They have been opened to let out gorgeous moans of his name and heavy, puffed-up sighs. He will crawl up your body like a predator until his face, soaked with your juices, is hanging over you.

Mingi is a big man—tall, strong, and nicely pumped up—his stunning figure completely covering you and trapping you underneath him.

You gasp for breath, still in a hazy post-orgasmic stupor, your glazed eyes meeting Mingi's, and you whimper as big, rough hands slide down your sides. He easily encompasses your boobs with ease, squeezing them with a force that causes them to fall out from under your bra.

"What big, juicy tits you have. Mmm, you can't be a better doll." Your embarrassed squeal is swallowed whole as Mingi kisses you passionately. Your tongues meet in an exchange of saliva and heavy breathing. On his lips, you can taste your own slime. It's rough, but you like it that way.

He slides his hands under your bra and massages your breasts, pinching your nipples with his fingers in a teasing way that makes you moan loudly into his mouth.

"The most beautiful and seductive pair of tits, so soft and heavy in my hands, I could just fuck them, couldn't I? Would you like that doll?" He whispers as he bites down on your lips and sinks his teeth into the soft, tender flesh. To be honest, he'd like to tear your lips into a bloody mess, but that's probably for another time.

Right now, he wants to use you. He wants to finally get his cock inside you and fuck you into a stupor. As if you could read his mind, your trembling hands reach out for his crotch.

"You want my cock, darling?" He moves his hips gently, and you feel his huge, hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers.

"Yes, yes, I want your cock so badly, Mingy." You're not as shy as you used to be; your desires are overpowering your modesty. And you don't have to ask twice as Mingi leans back and quickly unbuckles his belt, and you reach out for it, drawn to his sensual lips. 

You would never admit it, but his lips were driving you crazy—those gorgeous, plump lips—moist and inviting, making you want to suck on them like a leech and never let go. You wanted to feel them all over your body.

Mingi quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Your tiny hands grabbed his shirt collar, trying to pull him as close as possible, and you licked his neck with your soft tongue. He's never met anyone so desperate to be touched. The way you whimper into his neck, kiss him randomly, and smear saliva over his lips and chin drives him wild. You're definitely his favourite—the best girl he's ever fucked in recent times, if maybe ever. He should tell the members about you; he should let them hear your beautiful, needy moans with the endless repetition of his name; he'll shove your wet panties right in their faces, damn it.

With one firm hand, Mingi holds you by the waist while the other pulls his boxers down until they are low enough for him to pull out his thick, aching cock. Running his thumb over the swollen, wet head, he squeezes the heavy length into his palm. You whimper and look up at him with your eyes wide open as his fingers grab your chin and pull you away from his neck. So perfect you look—dishevelled, tits bulging from your bra, skirt crumpled, and gathered around your hips as you desperately grab his shirt, trying to pull him as close as possible.

Mingi's desire is to destroy you completely.

"On your knees, dolly."

You are so relentless in your desire to please the man who is in front of you. As you obediently lower yourself to the carpeted floor—rough enough for your delicate knees—Mingi's hands run through your hair. You're too mesmerised by the sight in front of you—a gorgeous man, a world-famous idol, by the way—stroking his big cock lazily, looking too amazing to remain indifferent.

"Do you want to try it?" You drool. The only answer you can give is an impatient moan that tells Mingi all he needs to know.   You're so desperate; you've never wanted to take someone's cock in the mouth so much. It would probably be so hard on your tongue because Mingi looks so big.

You're not quite sure if you can take the whole thing or just half of it. You know it'll bulge out of your throat if you do. You're so focused on thinking about it that you only come when the hot head of Mingi's cock begins to circle your smooth, swollen lips. He lets out a deep, low moan and the sound is pure porn. You can bet your bottom dollar that Mingi can make an entire concert hall cum at once just by moaning into the microphone. Fuck, their concerts must be wild.

Your mouth falls open in impatience as you look up at him with your eyes glazed over.

"You are such a good girl." Mingi whispers, holding back a moan as your tongue sticks out to lick the drop of pre-cum that is leaking from the head of his cock. He's sure that you've only been made for sucking his cock.

It's so easy to lead you; you're docile, submissive, eager for pleasure, and desperate for the praise that comes with it. The further your mouth descends onto his cock, the bigger and brighter your eyes become, full of pleading as you look up at Mingy, watching how he reacts, wanting to know if you're doing well. Mingi knows that if he were to send your picture to the members right now, it would cause a universal heart attack. They're absolute wimps for obedient little girls that they can scold and use at will.

"Look at you." He takes a sharp breath and runs his thumbs over your pouting cheeks. You look wickedly adorable, and perhaps Mingi is tempted to shove his cock even deeper down your throat, so that you choke on it and begin to sob. "You bruised your knees just so you could suck my cock. How did I get to be so lucky?"

The stifled moan that you let out is accompanied by a thrust of your hips that makes you feel like you are starting to choke. You try your best to relax your jaw as much as possible, holding back the coughing that starts to bubble up in your throat and forcing yourself to calm down. You look at Mingi through the protruding tears and blink your eyes slowly, waiting for the idol to start to fuck you down your throat. He takes no more than a second to realise what you're proposing.

"Want me to fuck your mouth, baby?" Your strangled moan stops momentarily as Mingi moves his hips again, pushing further into the enveloping wet heat, throwing your head back as you accept his heavy, massive length without complaining. "Damn beautiful, such a pretty cock slut."

Your lips tingle around the suggestive girth, and your cheeks are warm from the praise and effort you've put into his pleasure. You look so dishevelled right now, saliva dripping from your chin down your neck and between your heavy tits falling out of your bra. Your knees are red from rubbing against the rough carpet, your eyes are wet and red from unshed tears, and a small puddle of your secretions is also collecting underneath you, dripping freely from your quivering cunt. You haven't even been fucked yet, and you probably look as fucked as you feel. Even though you have every hope that you will be soon.

When Mingi suddenly yanks you by the hair and pulls you away from his cock, you make a half-squeaky sound and look at him with a crying, hurt look on your face, as if your favourite toy has just been taken away from you. Mingi leans down and pulls you to him for a dirty kiss, his tongue thrusting into your mouth and licking it from the inside to the outside as he tastes himself. 

It may be disgusting, but your moans are enthusiastic, and you enjoy every second of it.

"You're so beautiful, dolly. What am I going to do with you?" His words are breathed in through searing kisses, the lips sliding together at random, smearing saliva and mucus all over. Damn, this is unrealistically hot—all of his fantasies coming to life in a beautiful girl who just happens to be sharing a compartment with him on the night train. "Maybe I should have you with me for an introduction to the other members? How would you like it if I were to fuck that obliging mouth of yours off in front of the whole group?"

Enjoying his praise and such a tantalising prospect, you whimper again. Being their whore isn't such a bad option, to be honest; as long as you're fed and well fucked, it's enough to have fun.

"I can't seem to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart. You're literally a pollination." Mingi's deep, velvety whisper tickles your ears. He reaches out to take the palm of your hand and cradle it against his cock. 

It's a heavy, hot length, resting perfectly in the palm of your hand, and you long to feel it inside of you. It's big, big enough to send you to heaven with every thrust, and the big head hits you right on the cervix with every thrust of those skilled hips. God bless his dancing skills, because, as you know, dancers can fuck like gods.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" You gasp as Mingi's big hand glides over yours, both of them sliding up and down his hard cock in a confident manner. "With your beautiful eyes and the beauty of your face, Perfect, sweet lips, perfect for the sucking of my cock." He bites down on the torn lower lip you have bitten and kissed and pulls it into his mouth, then pulls back to give you a chaste kiss on your swollen mouth. "All of this is just for me."

Leaning completely on Mingi in front of you, your weak legs have long since stopped supporting you. Your beautiful mouth is open a little, a small whimper escaping from the depths of your throat as you savour the praise that is pouring down upon you. It makes you feel so damn good.

"You are such a delicious girl." Mingi moans as he bites down hard on one of your lips. He turns you around and pushes you in front of him until you find yourself pressing your face first against the fogged-up window. You look out, eyes wide open. There is nothing on the road, just wide fields whizzing by in a fast, blurred image. But something about the thought of somehow seeing how Mingi is fucking you stupid in front of windows makes you wet. Your pussy clenches against nothing. You arch your back and your plump, soft arse, trying to rub against Mingi's cock.

His commanding hand pulls one of your buttocks back to reveal your wet cunt and virgin anal opening. Fuck, you look so delicious. He thinks about pushing his face into your pussy once more and licking you until the morning comes. Next time, he says to himself, shaking his head in the hope that the urge will go away. His hair is falling down over his eyes, giving him that same vicious look that makes their fans go crazy for them. 

"I'm going to fuck you like this." Mingi whispers, clenching the lobe of your ear with his teeth. "You'll be a good girl, and you'll be quiet for me so that nobody else can hear how good and how deep I'm fucking you. Do you understand me?"

The rough, big palm slapping your mouth muffled the impatient moan you made as the head of Mingi's cock pushed your sticky folds apart from behind.

"What I told you, doll. If you want to feel me inside you, you need to hear it. I can tease you all night long and play with your lusty little pussy if you are naughty." His words are disapproving and you do a quick nod of understanding. You're going to be good for him. You know you can. You will do everything Mingi asks of you and fulfil his every wish.

Mingi continues to tease you, enjoying the stuttering moans that are muffled by his hand as his cock slides between your folds, rubbing against your clit but never penetrating you. The bulging head of his cock clings to the edge of your throbbing hole and you want to start begging for it. It's agonising, and your eyes fill with tears of frustration at how much you want to feel the thick, long Mingi's cock inside you.

"Have I upset you, doll?" Mingi cooed at the sound of your sobs. "You want my cock so badly. Don't you?" Confirming his words, you nodded mindlessly. "Baby, you know how much I love you; I can't upset my fans." One second you're empty, needy, and throbbing with anticipation, and the next Mingi's thick cock is shoved deep inside you, your oozing hole struggling to get used to his massive size.

A wheeze bursts from your lungs at the intensity of the thrust, your breasts pressed against the window. Your nipples are hardening from the cold of the glass and are becoming even more sensitive than they were before. It's so painful and so good that you're on the verge of tears.

"So perfect, if only you could see the way your beautiful cunt is taking my cock in. I thought you'd have to be stretched for that, but what a pleasant surprise; you don't need it." The sultry purr makes you roll your eyes. His voice is a damned aphrodisiac, making you dumber and wetter, your juices squirting around his cock with every sinful move he make of his hips. Mingi fucks like a god; you were right about him.

You whimper weakly as your nipples rub against the cold glass of the window. Rationality has left you completely. Drool flows freely into Mingi's palm, which is still clamped over your mouth. Your legs turn to jelly as Mingi holds you with a strong arm around your waist, sliding hard in and out of your wet cunt, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Somewhere far away, your mind is foggy. All it can think about is how good you feel and how much you want this to never end. It's like you're addicted to a drug and you need more Mingi—more, more, and more.

The narrow, velvety walls of your vagina close in over Mingi's dick, pulling him inside and holding him in what feels like a soft vice. Mingi's low, deep moans, the slapping against skin, and the loud, rhythmic squelching echo around you. It's so damned loud, even when he's holding back, and you can't help imagining what it would sound like elsewhere. This must be in their dorm; the rooms are soundproof because he's a terribly loud, whining, moaning mess.Two long fingers slide into your mouth and onto your tongue. You gurgle around them, sucking hard, the cold of the rings burning you, and it's so erotic.

"The best for me." That's all Mingi has to say to you before his thrusts get faster and faster, becoming almost aggressive as he presses you up against the window, his muscular thighs slapping against your plump arse.

All you can do is take what you're given and lick his fingers deep into your mouth as his massive cock fucks the life out of you. You throb and whip your juices around him. As your orgasm hits you, you rest your head on Mingi's shoulder. You arch up and shake with your whole body. Mingi's cock is still thrusting into you. He is having a hard time moving because you are squeezing him so hard. He doesn't stop hitting you, he moves his hips in a calculated way, hitting that special spot that makes you want to see the stars. It's almost mocking. The intense stimulation is searing, almost maddening, as if you're stuck somewhere between heaven and hell.

"That's it, doll. You look so beautiful when you cum so hard. Maybe I should fuck you on stage before all the fans, so they can see what a pretty face you make when my cock is so deep inside you." Teeth sink into your shoulder, and you give a weak whimper. "Or maybe you want me to film it so that I can jerk off any time I feel like it? Tonight I'm going to watch you cum over and over and over again."

Mingi seems to really mean what he says, because it's pretty clear from the way he keeps moving inside of you that he won't be satisfied until he's gotten a few more out of you. His endurance is something rabbits would envy. Mingi fucks like an animal, but it's fucking splendidly.

You squeal in overexcitement and run your hands over the window in front of you, leaving a trail of fingerprints all over the glass. You moan loudly as Mingi comes out of you, your used-up, reddened hole shrinking in the emptiness as you instinctively try to close around the hot, massive length. He has literally broken all the men in your life. How the hell are you going to be able to have sex with anyone else after this?

You'll be in need of rehab for the rest of your life.

He pulls you by your waist like a real doll. You find yourself on the lap of a cheeky idol. Your hips are shaking, and you are trying to hold on to him, clutching at Mingi's broad, muscular shoulders with your hands. He stares at you with a lustful, wet gaze, his eyes gliding over every curve and every mark he's left on you. And Mingi isn't finished with you yet.

"Now let's plant you properly, baby." As he pushes you onto his cock, his hands grab your arse and spread your cheeks. The squelching sound is loud and sickening as you sink down onto him completely. Mingi presses his hand on your belly as the head of his cock protrudes from under the thin skin of yours. "That's right, you take me so well. Your cunt is the perfect place for the warmth of my cock to be. Don't you think so, dolly?" He's almost purring like a fucking cat, and you're not thinking anything; you're just mindlessly nodding along to everything he says.   You moan longingly as he circles your hips, and you settle comfortably on his cock. You're so full that he presses against every sensitive spot inside you, making you gasp for air. With Mingi's help, you begin to rise and fall, slapping your arse against his muscular thighs, your mouth ajar, your eyelashes fluttering, and your chubby cheeks wet and hot. You're pure sin. Your legs are too weak to ride Mingi properly, but the idol doesn't care; he's doing fine on his own, guiding your hips as he pleases and driving his cock into you with powerful, deep thrusts.

As he hits you in all the right places, making your toes curl, you see stars behind your closed eyes. You sob openly, your slippery lips pressing against Mingi's neck in an attempt to muffle your moans. You whimper about how good it feels, how deep it goes, and how he never wants to stop. With each thrust, the round, wet head comes to rest against your cervix.

You shudder and squirm in his hands as Mingi presses his fingers against your swollen clit. You can feel it; you're so damn wet. You're flowing like a waterfall, all the way down the length of Mingi and probably all the way down to your balls, forming a puddle on the seat beneath you. You don't want this moment to end; you feel so full and satisfied.

He can collar you and drag you all over the world if he wants to, just so you can keep feeling that gorgeous cock inside you.

"Now! I'm going to cum now, Mingi!" You squeal, pressing your hand to your mouth and bouncing up and down in spite of the tension in your thighs, your tits jiggling with every move you make. Aydol leans forward and catches one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his hot, silky tongue around it as he licks it. Are all rappers that good with their tongues, or is it just something that Mingi does? So you come for the third time that night, your head thrown back and your muscles burning as you continue to be fucked mercilessly. You contract and throb relentlessly all over the thick length that has been pushed deep inside you.

It's a lot, so damn much, but Mingi is still insatiable. To be honest, you wonder where all this sexual appetite comes from with such a constant workload. He could probably go at it with you the whole night through, changing position after position until you pass out.   Mingi isn't enough; he isn't full enough to be finished with you.

He turns you over on your back, and you slam your back into the uncomfortable seat. Mingi is still so hard; the head of his cock is a fierce shade of red; his balls are throbbing; one more orgasm from you, and maybe he'll finally let himself come and make a real mess of you. The prospect of flooding you with his cum would be heavenly for him; you would look so beautiful with thick white jets of cum flowing all over your face. It was definitely an unforgettable sight.

Your walls are on fire as Mingi's cock struggles to get back into the nice velvety warmth, and you shake your head underneath it, visibly shaking your whole body and letting out the most beautiful wet sobs.

"It's too much; I can't! God, Mingi, I can't." Mingi kisses you lovingly to calm you down, and you breathe heavily, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"That's OK, baby; you're OK. You can give me another one, right? I know you can, beautiful doll. Come on, make me cum."

"Just one more time." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yes, just one. And you can get some rest. I promise." It's something between a promise and an assurance; the words are little more than reassurance, but you're in agreement.

If you had another member with you, you can't even imagine what it would have been like. You wouldn't have survived. And you wonder how fans keep referring to the idols as cute prince charmers with big innocent eyes. Never again.

Mingi squeezes your plump breasts in her hands and bends her head down so that she can take one of your nipples in her mouth. You're too sensitive right now, and even this action makes your hips tremble slightly. Her tongue swirls around the hard bud until Mingi begins to suck tangibly. You tangle your fingers in the surprisingly soft hair, your breasts rising and falling rapidly as you slowly recover from the hypersensitivity of your last orgasm. Mingi's cock is still warm deep inside you.

His hips begin to move gently, in a slow, erotic rhythm, as his teeth graze your nipple, making you whimper. It is this kind of change that almost gives you whiplash. You wrap your legs around Mingi's slender waist and scratch his back with your nails; it hurts, but in a good way. Deep down, you always knew you were a bit of a masochist.

"Look, baby, you're doing so well. You look amazing." The deep, gentle movements of his hips hit the right spot in you. You jump, and you see white spots in front of your eyes. "You need this, don't you? You need to be fucked until you can't take it any more, you little slut."

You nod desperately. It's exactly what you've always needed. A fuck on the edge of your life is exactly what you need after a string of unsatisfying, disappointing partners, after work and endless errands, after the weariness of the day and the noise of the crowd. And it seems that Mingi does too.

You never expected to intentionally meet an idol, and you certainly didn't expect him to remember your face, let alone your name, but here you are with Mingi's cock from Ateez deep inside you, and to be honest, it's the best thing that's ever happened to you in your whole life.

You're so lucky.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open in a silent moan, and your breasts are shaking with every thrust. And just as Mingi expected, the crystal pendant looks amazing between your bare tits.

You are being fucked so well that you can't find the right words to describe it. The contrast between you and Mingi is striking: you're completely dishevelled, shattered in every sense of the word, shivering, your clothes half hanging off your body, while Mingi has only drops of sweat on his forehead with long strands of fringes clinging to them, his trousers still on his hips, unbuttoned just so his cock can slip out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his hair slightly dishevelled.

In a selfish desire to cum, you are pressed mercilessly into the seat, fucking the rest of your life out of you.

"Cum inside." You whisper, barely coherent. "Please, Mingi."

Mingi growls at this request, losing all self-control at the thought of him filling you with his cum, forcing you to keep it inside you so that all you can think about is him. Feeling him inside you with every step you take. He rubs your swollen clit hard with his thumb, making sure he squeezes the last orgasm out of you. His hips set a frantic, jagged rhythm as he enters your pussy that still flows around him, wet squelches and slaps echoing between you.   It's the final orgasm that finally brings Mingi to his own release. He lets his head drop low as he bites the back of your neck to stifle a loud, prolonged moan, both of you lost in their own pleasure. Mingi's orgasm is so intense that you can feel his cum running down the sides of your cunt, filling you to the brim. The intensity causes him to go blind for a few seconds, and it takes him a while to come to.

This is new. Even for him.

Mingi finally pulls back to look at you. He coos softly as he notices how broken and completely fucked you look.

"That's my girl. You did great, doll." He whispers in a low voice and leaves soft kisses on your bitten skin. His lips are like soft, fluffy clouds—very soft and delicate.

Your vision is blurred and your mind is a mess, and you don't seem to be able to function properly anytime soon, but the only thing you're sure of is how content and satisfied you feel right now. You whimper pitifully as Mingi comes out of you, trying to squeeze your hole to keep the cum from leaking out. But it's inevitable; a small amount leaks out of you anyway in a thick, creamy mass.

"Let's get you cleaned up, doll, so you can get some rest afterwards."

Despite the sperm leaking out of you, your head tilts helplessly to the side as Mingi helps you put your clothes back on. He seems to be enjoying the sight, making no effort to wipe it off. Disgusting, yes. He doesn't give a fuck. Nobody ever said he was a nice boy.

You cringe at the sensation. But the knowledge that it's Mingi's cum gives you endless perverse pleasure. You're tired, too exhausted to want anything more than to sleep. You still have hours of travel ahead of you; you must rest before Asa meets you at the train station.

Mingi notices your condition. He has already straightened your clothes and picked up your mobile phone from the floor. The recording is safely stored in a private folder. It is protected by a complex, multi-digit password.

"Y/N, you can sleep now. I'll keep an eye on you." He laughs as he says that, because that's exactly what he said before he started fingering you. But this time, he really means what he says.

"Whatever you want to say." You reply with a smile and finally take off your shoes, which are uncomfortable as hell, and curl up into a ball. "I think, thank you, Mingi. You know, for the sex."

"Don't thank me; I'm kind of totally into you."

"Good night, then."

"Dream about me, Y/N."

By the time you wake up, the train has already arrived at Tamagawa Station. As you would expect, Mingi is nowhere in sight, but your duffel bag is on his seat opposite you. He's not a complete bastard, after all. You pack quickly and fly off the train, straight into Asa's warm embrace.

"Hey girl, you're finally here. God, you look tired and exhausted." If she only had a clue...

"Long night," you reply simply with a shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, let's go. The hot springs are waiting for us, and I hear there's a famous group staying at this resort right now. Maybe we'll meet some of the idols." Asa is terribly excited and is dragging you by the hand in the direction of her car.

You vaguely remember what Mingi had said about him and the boys coming here to relax before their concerts. But you don't even know if they stay here or not, and this is a big resort. What are the chances?

When you get into the car, the only thing you can think about is Mingi's dried semen on your thighs and where the hell your knickers have gone. 

On the next day.

"This is it; I can't stand it any longer. How can you stand it??"Asa whined as she climbed out of the big hot tub with the bubbling hot water. She was all flushed, the pretty pink bathing suit clinging to her body like a second skin, until she changed into a fluffy white dressing gown.

"It's hot springs, Asa. That's the point.."You rest your head on the padded side and laugh at her pained expression. It's a beautiful resort, after all. "Go on. I'm going to be here for a while."

"Yes, don't get boiled alive; there's no one to save you. We're the last ones here tonight; you can sit here alone all night." You realise that Asa has already left, her voice coming from somewhere far away.

The hot water relaxes you, and you feel so good, warm, and comfortable. While enjoying your own moment, you close your eyes.

The next time you open your eyes, there will be a piece of fabric dangling in front of your face, or rather, is it a pair of panties? Cream-coloured silk with a delicate ruffle around the edge—it's definitely a pair of panties. It's your panties! Oh, shit. You turn sharply around and sail away from the edge to look into a face full of a seductive grin and the most gorgeous cat-like features.

"These are yours, aren't they?" The voice sticks to your skin like a kiss of love, so honeyed and sweet. Shocked by the situation, you nod your head stupidly, not knowing how to choose your words. "Oh, I finally found you. You know, Mingi has told us a lot about you, y/n." The man slips easily into the hot tub, unfastening his white dressing gown, revealing a chiselled, gorgeous body. For your taste, too close. He corners you unceremoniously, putting his hands on either side of your face, his wide shouders completely blocking you from seeing. "I'm San. But you already know that, don't you, baby?" He literally whispers the last word in your ear, sending a shiver down your entire body and hardening your nipples, even though the water is warm. "You know, we're resting here before the concerts start. It would be really nice to have a pretty kitty like you to keep us company."

Belatedly, especially when San's lips begin to trace a light path down your neck, you understand the meaning of his words.

"Us? I don't understand." You give him a slight push away from you, but he doesn't move an inch.

"To us, of course, you silly kitty - Ateez. You see, our leader is very interested in making a personal record of all your cute little sounds." He leans over to you and whispers in your ear in a conspiratorial manner. "We had a lot of fun listening to how you cum, kitty."

This is a big resort. You remind yourself. What a possibility, you say. You see a satisfied, anticipatory smile on Yunho's lips as he waves sweetly at you from the other side of the hot tub. He is such a sweet boy. Yeah sure, you absolutely believe it.

Looks like you got lucky. After all, what are the chances of getting to meet not just Mingi, but the whole of his group?

[veritasangel]

Make you mine

Ft. Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Nanami, Gojo

sum: do they prefer giving or receiving? (oral sex)

warnings! fempov, oral (receiving & giving), fingering, cum eating/swallowing, 69 in satoru's, legal age gap in toji's, inappropriate photos in suguru's, true form sukuna

wc: 4.6k - masterlist

a/n: wrote nanami's part in awful period pain so i don't like his too much but oh well :/

Suguru Geto - ex bf

✦ Receiving ✦ He's good at pleasing you, but can be a little selfish at times, especially after your breakup. ✦ Spends far too many nights with only his hand and it just doesn't compare to you, which is why he keeps showing up.

It wasn't long before you two were in your bedroom, you on your knees, with Suguru's cock right in your mouth. You could feel him all too clearly now, with your lips wrapped around him and that shiver of pleasure running through him. How familiar-tasting he was, such that you feel at home like this.

You continued with the task of pleasing him, your eyes holding his; there was a mix of lust and longing in both your gazes. It was as though, in the silence, they confessed that something very real was still held between them.

The tension was thick, the room was filled with the sound of wet slurps and groans as the atmosphere in the room was heating up.

Suguru wasn't letting you go anywhere as he forcefully pushed your head down, allowing his strong cock to go even deeper in your mouth. "There, there—take it like a good little slut," he purred with raw lust.

"Fuck, I missed this," he groaned, fucking your face without an ounce of consideration, his hips giving rough jerks forward. "Missed watchin' you choke on my cock, missed seein' you on your knees fer me."

He would pull out, a moment of him allowing you the chance to get a breath in—and then, brutally, he would plunge back in, setting a relentless pace. "You're mine, baby. Even now- when you wanna' act single."

You gagged and choked, tears streaming down your face, but you didn't want to stop, not when he looked at you with those intense, commanding eyes. His words infused something in your system, like a drug, feeding the fire that licked at your insides. You two ended it because he was toxic, still is, yet you crave it.

"Your mouth, fuck- jus' so good-" Suguru growled, eyes aflame with lust and determination as he continued to use it, "I've jerked off to our old pictures and videos so many times, but it's just not the same. I need new memories, doll. Needed a reminder of how good you are at sucking my cock."

He whipped out his phone, snapping pics of your tear-stained face and bruised lips wrapped 'round his shaft. "Smile for the camera, baby. Give me something to work with."

His words were filthy, but there was something raw underneath them. He needed you, he desired you in a way that was so much more than the physical. His phone continued recording this intimate moment as he worked your face, his cock glistening with your saliva.

You licked along the length of Suguru's shaft. A prominent vein twitched under your touch, enough to make him groan a little louder and tighten his hold on your hair.

"Such a good girl," he whispered in a very lustful tone, "My pretty girl. You know just how to make me feel good." His breathing grew ragged with each flick of the tongue over his erection and every added lick.

Suguru's hips snapped, his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth, the head. Sweat streamed down his forehead, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

Your tongue started teasing the underside of his cock, running at the most sensitive part of his head, which caused him to groan and thrust more.

An intoxicating smell filled the room, a mixture of lust and wanting one could practically smell in the air. There was something primal and instinctual about the two of you and your connection.

You kept on sucking Suguru's cock while his body tensed up. His breathing was coming in shaky gasps; his thrusts became harder. His eyes flickered open, met yours with that wild, atavistic expression of desire crossing his features.

"I'm gonna cum," he growled in a voice that was so low, commanding—that was an order. You knew what it was, so you doubled your effort, taking him deeper, your tongue working double to milk every last drop of pleasure from him.

"Shit, I'm so close-" Suguru panted, and his thrusts were sloppy as he neared that crucial point. Right then, he reared back just enough so you had a moment to catch a breath before he asked, "You want my load, baby? Want me to paint that pretty tongue with it?"

His phone angled down as you nodded, filled with a desire to please him. Suguru was many things, most not great, but the pictures always stayed with him, alone. That you knew.

Looking up the camera, sticking your tongue out at it, a mischievous smile on your face told him that you were ready.

He let out a guttural moan, his cock pulsing and shooting ropes of cum. You swallowed what he was offering, leaning forward, and letting the last squirts decorate your chin and lips.

Finally, Suguru let the last few drops fall onto your tongue, and he sighed satisfactorily as his body went limp. He eyed one of the pictures on his phone, a grin flaring on his lips. "Perfect," he muttered, pocketing the phone.

His thumb swiped over the cum painting your chin before he brought his finger to your lips. "Clean it up, baby," he ordered low, husky. You did, your tongue darting out to suck his thumb clean before he leant down to kiss you softly, one hand tenderly cupping your cheek.

It was a charged moment between you two, intimate and animal-like at the same time, one that sparked something dangerously close to care.

It was a reminder of the shared passion that still raged between you two, despite the time apart from the breakup.

Sukuna Ryomen - one of his concubines

✦ Dare i say...Giving ✦ This man can get whatever he wants from anyone, he has no shortage of concubines, but there's only one of you so he savours your taste. ✦ He gets satisfaction just from hearing your moans, knowing he's the only one that can cause them.

You're lying back on the bed, your legs spread as he is on his knees, between them. Two of his arms are holding your thighs open and keeping your legs up. One is stroking your hair, and the fourth is at your waist, guiding you to arch your back, giving him better access to your pussy.

Sukuna's head dips down, his smirk still in place as his tongue slides out, flicking at your clit, and he groans at getting the taste of your sweetness. His fingers dig into your thighs even harder, holding you in place as he devours you, like a man starved.

One of those hands abandons your hair and drops down to your breast, squeezing at it, pinching and tugging your nipple. The mixture of pleasure and pain has you arching into his touch, moaning loudly.

The chuckle is dark, the sound is muffled but no less wicked. He pulls back slightly, blowing cool air against your wet folds. "You taste divine, little one. I could feast on this sweet cunt all night long."

With that, he dives back in, tongue delving deep inside you. He fucks you with his tongue, curling it to hit that one spot inside. His other hand joins in, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Sukuna remains constant—utterly unyielding and unrelenting, convinced that he has you unravelling at your seams. The muttered words of Sukuna follow the lead of his tongue. "You're the sweetest. Can't help but want to keep you by my side, always. My favourite- most precious concubine."

He wasn't a man to pay lip service with words like that. He meant them. You are his favourite, and you have him most taken. It is in the growl of possession in his voice, the way his grip on your thighs tightens, and his fingers work your clit.

Both his words and what he was doing to you had you writhing, and your moans grew louder. It was a heady mixture of pleasure, affection, and the unmistakable intensity of being worshipped by the King.

Sukuna parts his hold over your thighs and works his tongue more intensely, spearing deeper into your core, all with the silent determination to have you come apart on his tongue.

So enflamed in his hunger to suckle, Sukuna's tongue laved over its unending purpose against your pussy, lapping up your sweet nectar. The vibrations in his own moans rubbed against your sensitive flesh, sinfully and erotically loud.

One of your thighs is left abandoned from his hand, now down to grip his own cock. He strokes in time to the thrusts of his tongue, groaning at the dual sensations. The sight of him pleasuring himself while devouring you is fantastically erotic.

His fingers are pushing in, just like his tongue in your tight heat, and curl inside, always rubbing that spot that makes you see stars. All while his other hand is pumping his cock, and the wet sounds fill up the room.

Sukuna gets lost in the overwhelming pleasure but not too much as he remains very focused on you, devouring you. Fingers not ceasing, only driving harder, faster, building you towards the edge as he wanted nothing more than to taste your sweet release.

The taste of you had Sukuna nearly driven wild, his dark eyelashes fluttering under the feel of his own cock gripped tight in his hand. A little desperate, his strokes speed up with a lot more urgency now, parallel to the rhythm of his tongue and fingers inside you.

He is so focused on your pleasure, on making you come, that momentarily he has stopped thinking about himself. It's a rare glimpse of vulnerability—this powerful man, momentarily lost in the act of worshipping his concubine.

He's getting close now, breaths growing ragged, but he doesn't stop, can't stop. He's gone too far, too consumed with the need to have you come, to fill him with your release.

His tongue flattens on your clit, flicking, flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub. His fingers continue, curling inside. He's driving you, forcing you over the edge. Sukuna's hand moves faster over his cock; the wet sound of his strokes fills the room.

He's close, so fucking close. And he holds back—just waits for you, wants to feel your pleasure before he'll take his own.

"Come for me, little one," he growls, the words muffled against your pussy. Let me taste your release. Give yourself to me." His eyes opened, locking onto yours. In them, you saw your own pleasure reflected back at you—intense, all-consuming—you were waiting for him, ready for him to catch you as you fell.

His eyes never leave yours, interested in observing how your features contort with sensation, how your voice grows louder with moans. Every moment, every expression—committed to memory. And your taut body arches off the bed when your orgasm washes over you. Sukuna moans against your pussy, and those vibrations really drive the wave of pleasure through you.

He never quits, keeps on lapping at you until he draws out your orgasm and has you a quivering mess underneath him.

It's all too much for Sukuna; he loses it, coming with a guttural moan, his cum spurting over his hand. He continues stroking himself as he rides out his climax, milking the intense pleasure for all it is worth.

And then he finally pulls back, panting. He straightens up as he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can almost taste yourself on his tongue. Heady. More intoxicating.

"You are my true delicacy, little pet."

Satoru Gojo - fwb

✦ Honestly both, perfect 50/50 ✦ He's needy and spoilt, wants to have as much as he can get. He's just so desperate for you. ✦ So why not both at the same time? He wants to enjoy the taste of you and have your mouth on him.

You feel Satoru's cock slide into your mouth, and he groans with pleasure as his hips slightly buck forward as you begin to suck. His mouth doesn't stop as he continues with his relentless assault on your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit before delving deep inside of you.

"That's it, just like that," he pants, muffled in your flesh. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good." He pushes into your mouth, fucking your face as he eats you out, dazed by need and blinded by lust.

Your hands work and twist around his rock-hard length, helping speed you along. His throbbing cock is cradled by your tongue, swirling and flicking around the sensitive tip.

"Fuck, you're so good at that. Bet you'd take my whole cock down your throat if I asked, huh?"

He pushes on your head a little, shoving more of his length down your throat. You gag a bit, but he doesn't stop. "That's a good girl." He coos, fingers sliding inside you meanwhile, curling to strike your sweet spot. "Fuck, you're so wet for me, just dripping all over my face."

The room was filled with moans and whimpers as Satoru's fingers began to pump in and out while his mouth works over your clit, sucking and nipping relentlessly. "Heard you were gonna go out on a date with someone else. Some other guy was gonna fuck you while I what- waited here?"

His words slid from him, possessively jealous, as fingers and tongue worked in tandem, bringing you ever closer to that edge. "You're mine, angel. All mine, and I won't share you with anyone else." He could feel your body trembling—the arousal washing through you. He wanted to hear you say it—that you were his and you wanted him more than you wanted any other person.

He pulls his cock from your mouth, just barely, enough that you can speak. A trail of saliva connects from your lips to his cock.

The look in Satoru's eyes bore into your very soul in a way that desperately teeters on another emotion, maybe wanting or almost angry. "Say it, baby," his fingers remained hard, thrusting in against your very insides, while his thumb tightly rubbed small circles on your clit.

"I need to hear it from you. Tell me you don't want anyone else, that you only want me. Fuck- I can't stand the thought of you with someone else." His voice turns all gruff, like a beg, as he waits for your answer, his body trembling from the surging need and jealousy.

You give in, hating the puppy dog look you know is on his face, the words tumbling out, breathless. "I'm yours, swear- I don't want anyone else."

It's like the words light something up in Satoru; his fingers fist inside you, and his thumb presses onto your clit once more.

Satoru buries his face in your pussy and resumes, sucking at your clit like he was starved. "God, you taste so good. I could eat this sweet pussy all day long."

"No one else gets to have you like this, to make you feel this good." His words are muffled against your flesh, but the possessive tone is clear. As Satoru continues to eat you out, his hips push up again, driving himself deeper until your nose all but burrows into his trimmed pubes. "That's it, show me how much you want me."

He feels the convulse in your throat around his cock, the shudder your body does in pleasure. "So fucking good- shit-"

Your tongue swirled, flicking on the sensitive tip, with your fingers clutching his balls, gently tugging and squeezing them. You feel his cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth; the veins are standing out in relief. Your saliva spills down the length of his shaft, running down your chin.

Satoru's mouth is smeared with your arousal; his fingers are wet with more of your juices. His tongue drags through your folds, leaving a sticky trail.

Satoru's hips faltered, the rhythm of his thrusts against your mouth slowing "Fuuck- I'm so close, baby."

Your body shakes, too, as the peak of your orgasm comes on. You call out, arching your back off that sofa as Satoru's deft mouth pushes you over the edge, eagerly leaning up to continue, holding your hips.

Satoru's cock swells in your mouth, and his hips jerk as he spills his load down your throat. He groans loudly, his fingers still working inside you as you ride out your orgasm to his, his mouth continuing to please you.

His cock twitches in your mouth, and you pull away. He groans at the sensation, his head falling back onto the sofa, his fingers finally leaving your still-quivering pussy, and you feel empty and full of satisfaction.

You lean back down onto the couch, Satoru's thighs acting as a headrest. He shifts again, pulling you up so that you're lying beside him. He wraps one arm around you, tucking you into his side as he pants and tries to catch his breath. "God, you just make me lose my fucking mind," he murmurs. His words were honey-thick with adoration, like candy.

He plants his lips on the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair like silk. "Don’t want ya’ to leave me, so let's just make it official, yeah?" he murmurs, trapping you in his arms.

Toji Fushiguro - boss

✦ Receiving. ✦ He gets lonely sometimes and craves the attention he gets from you. ✦ His work is exhausting and sometimes he just has to destress, it just so happens that his son’s babysitter is perfect for the job.

Toji groans as you take him into your mouth. He's been dying for this, for your touch, for weeks on end. It's been so long since he's had any kind of sexual contact, and the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him is almost too much.

He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your hair, guiding the movements as you bob up and down on his length. "Fuck, just like that," he growls, hips rocking forward to meet your mouth. "You're such a good little cocksucker, aren't you? Taking my cock so well."

He wants to savour this, needs to make it last, "Ease up a little for me, sweetheart." His breath catches at you dragging your lips away from him to stroke a hand down over his slick, throbbing cock.

He feels the closeness, building pressure at the base of his spine. He's so close, so fast, it's goddamn embarrassing. Way too long since he'd had another touch. Toji's practically shaking with the effort of holding back, his abs flexing as he fights the urge to just let go.

You go slower, your tongue running downwards as you move to focus on his balls, sucking at the skin.

Toji lets out a shuddering groan as your tongue drags over his sensitive balls, his head falling back against the couch. "Oh fuck," he gasps, fingers tightening in your hair. "That's it, just like that. Suck on them, baby."

He's so goddamn close that he can hardly think. He wants to come, wants to feel the relief of release, but he wants it to last forever. He wants to bask in the feeling of your mouth on him, and he wants to drag out this moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He fights it, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as you work over his balls, your tongue and lips driving him wild. "Don't stop," he begs, voice rough with need. "Please don't stop."

Toji's breath catches in his throat as your lips trail back up his shaft, planting kisses along it. Each soft kiss sending sparks of pleasure racing through him. He's so unbelievably sensitive, every touch feeling amplified tenfold.

His eyes are heavy-lidded, yet he drinks in the sight of you, kneeling between his legs, flushed, and with shining lips. You look like a goddamn dream, like something straight out of his dirtiest fantasies.

You reach the tip of his cock, and you flick your tongue out to tease the slit, a low, guttural moan coming from Toji's lips as you do so. "Fuck, yes," he hisses, hips bucking slightly forward. "Makin' me feel so good."

He's so close to the edge, it would take only a few more strokes of your tongue, a bit more pressure from your lips, and that would be it. His body all but vibrates with the need as muscles tighten, breathing becomes ragged, and he approaches release.

He watches the way your lips stretch around his girth, eyes narrowed, a look crossing his face of lust mixed with possession. "Look at me, baby," he growls, tightening the grip in your hair. "Look at me while you suck me off."

The sight of your lips wrapped around his cock as your eyes meet his, makes his eyes roll. Toji tightens his grip in your hair, holding you in place, while his hips buck up to meet your mouth as he face-fucks you, using your mouth for his whim of pleasure.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned as he fought the urge to let it go.  "You want my cum, baby? You want me to fill your mouth?"

He hisses, hips stuttering forward. "Take it, baby. Swallow every fucking drop." And then he's coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spills himself into your mouth. He groans long and low, head thrown back, fingers tangled in your hair as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

Toji's chest heaves as his high starts to come down, and he eases up on his grip in your hair. He looks down at you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. His hand comes to rest against your jaw as he silently urges you to open your mouth and show him.

Toji's eyes darken with approval as you open your mouth, revealing nothing but your pink tongue. He smirks, that possessive edge to his gaze sharpening. He leans forward, pulling you up some as his lips meet yours, tasting himself on your tongue. "Good girl," he purrs.

He releases you, giving your ass a sharp smack as he stands. "Get your ass upstairs, we ain't done here," he commands, his voice rough with renewed lust.

His long strides carry him toward the stairs, not waiting to see if you'd follow.

He knows you will.

Kento Nanami - husband

✦ Giving. ✦ He's the husband blueprint, he looves worshipping you. ✦Especially when he sees you doing anything domestic, he's a sucker for that and finds it hard not to just bend you over and have you cum on his tongue until he's satisified.

He had you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open, as he tasted every inch of your pussy. He interrupted you as you were making food; he'd already made you come on his tongue once but evidently, he still wasn't done.

The breakfast you'd been preparing seemed as though it had occurred in some other lifetime now, the eggs and bacon were forgotten in their pans, Kento completely focused on you, his lips and tongue ran through your folds with such intensity, that it left you breathless. "So sweet," he purred.

Kento's tongue kept the relentless assault as his nose brushed against your clit, drawing and sucking at your soaking folds. Your hands were in his hair, borderline painful as you drove your hips to his face. Though he relished in that sweet sting, his tongue dove deeper, lapping up your juices as though it was the sweetest nectar.

His hands moved up and down your thighs, gripping and squeezing as he continued to dine from your wetness. His mouth was embedded in your pussy, and his tongue twirled inside you like he was lapping from a river.

"God-fuck- you taste so good," Kento groaned against your flesh, his breath hot against your core. It seemed to be one prolonged, relentless attack, since his tongue did not stop in his mission to have you fall apart once again.

His tongue slowly traced a path from the entrance of your pussy up to your clit. His movements were purposeful. Sucking on the sensitive bud, before moving backwards, pushing his tongue back inside.

The pressure and friction, from his tongue and the bridge of his nose constantly against your clit was driving you insane. He moaned against your flesh, bringing the vibrations to send shockwaves through your body. He was relentless; his tongue never stopping its assault on your pussy.

"Got the prettiest wife-" Kento murmured, his voice muffled but entirely filled with affection. He continued worshiping, his tongue sinking deep within you. "Could do this forever," he moaned.

Kento slowly pushed a finger inside you, curling it at the perfect angle, hitting your sweet spot as his tongue continued. The dual assault had you moaning loudly, your hands gripping his hair more tightly.

"You're so wet," he growled, his voice filled with lust as he pumped his finger in and out of you. His mouth never leaving your clit. Your senses were overwhelmed, with your body tensing in anticipation of the following orgasm. Kento's ministrations continued, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

He sucked on your clit, burst after burst of the pressure and suction that shot shockwaves across your body.  You could feel your orgasm start to build, the tension coiling inside of you. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers thrusting hard and deep inside you.

He's pushing you, urging you towards your climax. And with one last flick of his tongue, you shattered. Your body convulsed, your release gushing onto Kento's face. He lapped it up eagerly, the sound of slurping filling the room, drinking your very essence.

Kento's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as you rode out your orgasm. With your tremors subsiding, Kento let go of you, his face slick with your juices.

He looked up at you with a lopsided grin. "That's my beautiful wife," he encouraged, speaking the words with love and adoration in his voice.

Kento stood up, his face shining with a mixture of sweat and your arousal that coated his lips. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand and licked his lips.

Looking down at you with a satisfied grin, he continued, his voice filled just as much lust as with affection, "Seeing you around the house and remembering you're my wife just really gets me going. Sorry- I just couldn't help it."

His exuberance with praise and adoration was contagious. "I'm not complaining," you teased, "But now breakfast is ruined." You turned to the pans; the eggs and bacon were far past their prime by this point.

Kento laughed with mischief in his eyes. "I'd say it was a fair bargain," he chuckled as his eye skimmed your body most appreciatively, "Why don't I take you out for breakfast instead?"

He grinned at the shakiness of your legs as you nod. Smiling, you go to hop off the counter, only to be stopped by Kento-

"A late lunch", he corrects. "I still haven't satiated my fix for you yet, this morning", he went on, his body leaning in close enough that you could feel his erection against your thigh, straining against his sweats.

With that, you couldn't help but smile, leaning up to kiss Kento. The warmth in his praise and the lingering afterglow from your orgasm assured the love the two of you held for one another.

please reblog if you enjoyed!

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.