#but like that was not his place to do that at all

[willyhoos]

you, and what little remains of your brother.

[demaparbat-hp]

For your Dandadan AU. Are we in a "Modern Setting" (e.i. No bending)? Or you are having their "supernatural powers" be homages to their bending powers?

Something tells me that Aang is going to get the Jiji role. Only Aang to be that goofy, and do the thing that will happen in Season 2.

Are you also having Kanna as the stand-in for Seiko?

Hi, and thanks for asking!

I'll be leaving this over here and the rest of the lore under the cut.

The Dandadan AU takes place in a modern setting, much like the anime/manga does. There are legends about people who could control the elements in ancient times, but those are just tales—humans can't bend.

Spirits and Yokai, however, are a different story.

Each character's supernatural abilities reflect their original bending prowess! Zuko is a bit of an exception, since I'm leaning towards the shadow and stealth aspect of the Blue Spirit. Fire is still there, just in a different form.

Katara has natural bloodbending powers which the Painted Lady enhances. Whenever Katara taps into the yokai's curse on her, she becomes able to control water as well. Azula (in Aira's role!) will get lightning, illusion, and deception powers from a Kemurikage yokai.

Seiko's role gets passed on to Hama and Iroh. They're both part of the White Lotus, a society of mediums and yokai hunters from all nations.

Hama is Katara's Gran Gran, a stern and rather intense old woman who has made several deals with the Gods of the Land. She delivers corrupted souls to them in exchange for strength, protection, and an emergency tap into the bloodbending powers that she wouldn't be able to harness otherwise.

Meanwhile, Iroh becomes spiritually enlightened after his son's death. He's a beacon for corrupted spirits and bloodthirsty yokai—mostly because of his unnatural ability to rehabilitate said beings. The Painted Lady is one such yokai, and isn't it ironic that Iroh's own nephew is now one of his patients?

Hama sends most of the yokai she hunts down to Iroh due to his ability for dealing with them. If Iroh can't help a yokai move on peacefully, she finishes the job. Not because he can't do it, but Hama is the one who does what she considers to be "the fucking bulk of the iceberg" and Iroh can't take all the credit for it, damn it.

As for Aang...

The Avatar State is terrifying, which makes it the perfect stand in for the thing. Aang has such an outstanding amount of spiritual energy that he's a beacon for all spirits and yokai out there. Which...isn't good. Especially when one of the most ancient and powerful spirits out there wants to possess him.

Which leads us to the Avatar State.

I made the choice to remove his power over the four elements to focus instead on something much more interesting and fitting for this AU: energybending.

The Avatar is able to manipulate all vital and spiritual energy around him, as well as give or take everyone else's powers at will. This makes him pretty much the most dangerous being to ever exist, since he can make everyone powerless by simply willing it so.

As for the Avatar's motivation? He's a protective yet ruthless spirit that has laid dormant for thousands of years, but a certain event woke him up to a world in disarray. His purpose has always been to keep balance in the world, but the concept itself of balance can be easily corrupted.

The Avatar comes from a world that doesn't exist anymore—a far better place that he wishes to recreate and bring to life once more. Even if he must destroy this version of earth to birth it anew.

[ebodebo]

minors beware!

shameless smut w simon in... (age-gap shit also)

three…

two…

one…

“Too old for you,” Simon remarks as you approach him, mask hiked above his nose. He takes a swig of his bourbon, his disinterest evident.

"So you’ve said," you reply, rolling your eyes slightly before grinning and settling into the stool next to him at the empty bar.

He stares intently at the television in front of him, locked onto a local news channel.

But it’s clear he’s not watching to catch the latest on the new pizza place opening this Sunday or to hear the heartwarming story of the little boy who saved his dog from choking.

It was to avoid you.

"I know you're avoiding me, Simon," you simply say, eyes glazing over his hands that twitch slightly around his cold glass.

"What gave it away?" His tone is dry.

It would have made you run with your tail between your legs at his apparent disinterest if you didn’t know he was interested in you.

Even if he's pretending not to be.

You remember how hard he had gotten when you'd barely even touched him, manicured nails running across his shirt to get a piece of fuzz off, about had him bursting through his cargo pants.

Or when he practically whimpered your name to get him to come.

His issue lies more within himself.

More specifically, his age.

Thinks you should be with someone more your age and not some 'old brute' such as himself.

He basically lectured you all while he was on the verge of release while you were bouncing on his cock.

You laughed in his face.

He came hard.

After that, he left, leaving a note about how he thought it'd be best for you two to stop seeing each other so you could find someone more...what did he say?

"Age-appropriate."

You rolled your eyes at the note because you couldn't care less about how old he was.

You just wanted him.

And so, by God, you'll have him.

"Funny," you remark with a sarcastic tone, narrowing your eyes at his avoidance of eye contact.

He takes another swig of his drink, eyes still laser focused on the news station.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You ask, your frustration growing with each passing moment.

“Afraid you’ll claw my eyes out,” he says in a casual tone.

“I wouldn’t claw your eyes out,” you say matter-of-factly, resting your chin in your palm. “I’d do something more practical like…” You let your eyes scan the bar before lighting up as you spot a metal shaker.

Your eyes move to face him. “…hit the side of your head with that metal shaker,” you tip your head to the shaker behind the bar.

You’re sure you see his eyes crinkle from laughter.

"Ah, very practical," he says with a hint of humor.  

"I told you so," you reply with a smile, chuckling at the sheer absurdity of it all.  

Simon lets out a gravelly laugh, clearly amused by your delight.  

This entire situation is utterly ridiculous, and you both know it.  

Yet, instead of feeling uncomfortable, you find it all downright hilarious.  

"Simon," you manage to say between fits of laughter, your fingers reaching up to wipe a tear of joy from your cheek.  

"Mhm," he responds, briefly glancing at you before returning his attention to the television. 

"I want you to fuck me," you say earnestly, shifting from playful to serious in an instant.

Your expression remains straight-faced.

Simon's head snaps around to meet your gaze, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What?" He replies, his tone straddling the line between astonishment and intrigue.

You narrow your eyes. "You heard me."

His eyes stay fixed on yours, his lip quipping a bit.

"You want me to fuck you?" His voice is low and grumbly, almost arrogant.

"Wouldn't be the first time," you remark, teeth coming out to chew on your bottom lip.

He carefully assesses you for a moment, eyes lazily moving to watch your teeth chew on your lip. "I'm old," he lazily says.

As if that was supposed to deter you.

"And?" You prompt, hand coming to skim his knee over his cargo pants.

He lets out a ragged breath, fingers tightening around his glass of bourbon. 

"Better be careful, sweetheart," he mutters through his tight throat.

Your hand moves up to brush against his thigh. "Why's that?"

"You're gonna start somethin' you can't finish," his eyes lock onto yours, dark and desperate.

You lean in closer, your tongue flicking out to moisten your lips, leaving a glistening sheen behind.

"Who says I can’t finish?" You tease, your hand inching nearer where Simon aches.

His breath is unsteady, and his pupils are dilated.

"You should know," you begin, wet lips hovering only inches away from his ear. "I always finish."

And that was it.

The straw that broke the camel's back.

Simon’s undoing, if you will.

His hands moved faster than you could speak as he grasped your wrist, throwing a twenty on the counter before leading you out of the bar and into the parking lot toward his truck waiting nearby.

He opened the passenger door, urging you to get in while he hurried to the driver’s side. With an impatient tug, he yanked the door open and slid into the seat.

“Take your pants off,” he mumbles as he throws the truck into gear to peel out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” You ask, your voice brimming with excitement rather than nervousness, as you eagerly slide your pants down and let them drop to the mat on the floor.

“You want me to fuck you,” his voice is gruff as he white knuckles the steering wheel seeing you in your pretty lace panties, easing towards a nearby empty lot. “I’ll fuck you.”

Oh, shit.  

Your eyes widen at his straightforwardness, but it’s not from fear; it’s pure desire.  

A flutter spreads in your stomach, and heat washes over your body.  

“Come here,” he murmurs, shifting his seat back slightly to make room for you.  

Without a word, you swing your legs over the middle console to straddle him as your hands reach his shoulders.

"You wear these for me?" He mutters as he snaps the elastic band of your panties back onto your sensitive skin, lips coming to skim against your shoulder blade.

You release a small moan at the sensation, fingers gliding through his hair with ease, a sense of familiarity within the touch. "Yeah," your voice is breathy as your eyes bore into his, awaiting his approval.

"Still so good for me," he breathes against your skin, scooting himself impossibly closer to you.

You can feel him straining through his cargo pants.

Your fingers fumbled from his hair to delicately unzip his zipper, slipping his pants and boxers down to reveal his, as you expected, very erect cock, already leaking pre-come.

"So wet, sweetheart," he gruffs as his finger trails to gently push aside your soaked panties.

Your body jerks forward at the feeling of his rough, cold finger spreading you to accommodate his cock.

"Grab my shoulders," he advises, as he brushes the head against your aching clit before pushing himself into you, your cunt swallowing him whole.

You let out a deep moan at the feeling of him in you while he rips his mask off before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a rough, deep kiss.

His fingers find your waist, digging deep into the fat as he helps you find a good pace.

You're losing your mind, already feeling euphoric.

His grunts merge with your whines, slipping out of both your mouths, sloppily swapping spit and nips from your teeth.

You grip his shoulders tighter as you speed up your pace, grinding and bouncing on him with intention, trying to get the knot in your stomach to finally unravel. 

He can't even think straight; all his words are reduced to guttural grunts or quiet curses spilling for his tongue and into your mouth.

"I could be your father," he hisses, a hint of disgust creeping into his voice just as he's about to come.

You don't even focus on what he's saying as you feel yourself edging closer and closer to release, just a little more.

"Please, please," he chokes out, voice shaky.

He's begging, no pleading for you to squeeze him dry.

Drain him for every last drop he has to offer.

And so you do.

You wail as you come, as he throws his head back on the headrest, shaking with relief. 

You're still coming down from your highs before Simon mutters a strained, 'Should we go again?'

You let out a breathy laugh, hissing as his cock moves against you. "You sure do have a high libido for an old man," you tease, voice hoarse.

His eyes meet yours instantly, a lazy smirk growing on his lips. 

"You have no fuckin' idea."

author’s note: been having sm fun writing these little drabbles...i have SO many more thoughts. just you wait! also, feel free to send me cute little asks on more scenerios you would like to see hehe

wanna join my taglist?

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[okwonyo]

KISSING YOU BABY， a kiss to wake them up

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾.

boyf!enha & femreader 11OO established relationship でも skinship kissing 𓂃 𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒

嘉 .. this wasn’t supposed to be this but i had a vision >< enjoy 🎀

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks please ˊᯅˋ DAILY

HEESEUNG

waking him up in the morning isn’t easy. your boyfriend values his sleep time a lot and always takes the most time to get out of bed.

the truth is, you can call his name as much as you want, make the most noises for him to open his eyes— he only gets up when he wants to. most if the time, it’s way too late.

this morning, you decide to try a new method. which is brushing your lips all over his face until he decides to wake up. it is not certain that he will, but you are welcoming every hope that comes your way.

you start by kissing the tip of his nose, then his forehead and his cheeks. there is no sign of him awaking except his eyebrows furrowing more and more as the kisses go on.

soon, he breaks into a fit of giggles. “baby, stop,”

he doesn’t wake up. instead, you get trapped in his arms and back in bed like a few minutes ago.

JAY

he starts groaning the moment you tap his shoulder in the slightest and most delicate way you can do it.

honestly, it makes you chuckle more than anything else— you know how your boyfriend gets when he is disturbed in his drowse. however, you know an enchantment that could work.

“honey,” you whisper his petname, voice laced with twinkling affection. your fingers run in his hair, cafuné, before you lean in a place a peck on his exposed forehead.

at that, he groans as well as earlier but leans into your touch, your hand finding his cheek, rubbing his it in a smooth motion. he looks like a cat this way.

his eyes open slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep, eyes fluttering upon you kiss his mouth. he is met with a dreamy vision of the love of his life looking at him. he can’t help but smile sweetly.

he puts his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer. before another kiss, you greet him, “good morning, sleeping beauty,”

against your lips he smiles, “good morning, princess.”

JAKE

he loves kisses. he loves your kisses, especially. it is not a secret for anyone— it is obvious at the sight of his face after your lips connect with any place of his skin.

even in his sleep, he loves to get kissed by you. down to his unconscious state, he smiles whereupon you kiss his lips.

he thinks that he is dreaming at first. getting aroused by kisses is like a dream come true, he cherish this moment too much to even want this dream to stop.

your voice sounds as if he was under water. showered in love and drowning in the immense ocean of your affection. he barely even hears you when you call his name.

he ends up waking up, of course, but he does need you to know that. and you, in fact, doesn’t know that until he starts smiling like an idiot.

you decide to stop kissing him as he is already awake— and as soon as your lips aren’t all over him anymore, he opens his eyes, “why did you stop?”

SUNGHOON

he wakes up immediately. before you can even kiss him, his eyes are wide open, ready to kiss you right back.

“do you want to make out?” is the first thing he says before opening his eyes properly, before even greeting you a beautiful morning.

you stare at him blankly. then with barely controlled disgust and shyness creeps on your pretty face. he doesn’t seem to understand the problem:

you push his shoulder as he gets up, “you’re disgusting!”

he gawks at you, putting his hand on the place you pushed dramatically. he asks you with widened eyes, “what did i do?”

“we didn’t even brush our teeth yet,” you smile, a faint blush taints your cheek and you get up.

he is confused on how it’s an issue.

SUNOO

your boyfriend is a bit flustered. coming out of dreamland to get welcomed in by his lover kissing him.

his eyes flutter gently, a soft sigh leaves the barrier of his lips. he is confused on whether he is really awake or not, but his doubts evaporate when he hears your sweet voice calling his name.

prior to opening his eyes, he jails you in a warm hug. it makes you stop pecking him in the process and at the end, he is the one that starts kissing you.

“good morning, sweets,” he tells you. he smooches your cheeks sweetly.

you can’t help but giggle at his lips tickles your skin, his warmth is all over you. “good morning, sun.”

JUNWGON

he is always soft in the morning; eyes closed, hand on his heart as he sleeps on his back, his chest heaving gently before falling back. he isn’t doing much— but you want to kiss him at the mere view of his face.

his eyes open, fluttering at the kiss you just planted on his cheek, it’s an immediate response. drowsiness still remains in his state, it doesn’t make the affection from shining in his eyes.

the kiss is fleeting, perhaps, but it’s enough to make him smile. he rubs his eye, shaking off the sleep, with a soft laugh.

“hi, doll,” he whispers while getting up. afterwards, he speaks again; “can i have another kiss, please?”

the concave if his dimples are visible. you oblige, cupping his cheek and kissing him again.

RIKI

a grumpy expression blooms in his face, he doesn’t seem pleased by your hand pushing his shoulder continuously as a way of waking him up.

the emoji on his face is soon replacing with a pink hue dancing on his cheeks, although he tries to stay as grumpy as humanly possible— it doesn’t work after the tenth kiss on his nose.

he stirs, slowly getting out of his unconscious-like state. he cannot control his smile, although he doesn’t see you.

the first thing he hears is you telling him how cute he is. surely, it is an amazing way to start the morning. all shy and giddy.

“stop,” he weakly protests, the delicate sound of your laughter is contagious. he has the sudden urge to pull you closer, therefore, he does. “i love you.”

you were supposed to drag him out of bed at all costs but his last three words makes you weak in your entire body.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

p/s. don’t forget to vote for your favorite writers on @enha-files

[trivia-yandere]

ok head me out…jungkook…who happens to be your brothers best friend…are you catching what im saying???

well why the fuck not? off limits

he’s a 10 but…he’s your brother’s best friend & completely off limits.

word count: 3.118

warning: smut, little plot fr fr, age difference (like 3 years), fingering, unprotected sex, alcohol intake, oral sex (f/m) creampies, dirty talking,

“Did you know?” you asked Jungkook, head pressed against the cold window. Your eyes watch as the world passes by in a blur with the speed in which he’s driving. Your mind is a mess, the alcohol flowing through your body.

“Know what?” Jungkook asks.

Jungkook was the person you called to pick you up from your night out with your friends. It was nice of him to deal with all of you - the random crying in the backseat from one friend, to the angry screaming another did over the phone with her boyfriend. It was silent now, however, as he was on his way to driving you home. There’s soft music playing through the speakers that’s at the perfect volume for you and him to talk.

You don’t answer his question - not yet, at least. “Remember…my freshman year of highschool,” you start, lifting your head from the window to turn to look at him. “when I kissed you?”

Jungkook feels your eyes on him as he drives. His hand grips the steering wheel, his right hand lightly tapping his fingers against his thighs.

Jay, your brother and his best friend, would have not picked you and your friends up without giving you an earful along the way. Especially once he saw the way you were dressed - short skirt, tight shirt and laced stockings. It was one of the main reasons why you called Jungkook, after all.

“Yes.” Jungkook murmurs. “You weren’t even supposed to be at that party.”

True, you think. But neither was Jay. Your parents were out of town that weekend and that meant Jay was going to do what he wanted. You threatened to expose him if you didn’t go along with him - typical younger sister actions. After giving you a long list of things not to do, he allowed you to come.

Of course, he had told all of his friends about you being there and to keep an eye out. Your beer was stolen from your hands by Jimin who replaced it with soda. Taehyung had plucked the joint that was handed to you by a senior right out of your fingers and insisted you do something else. That something else was joining a game of seven minutes in heaven where, surely, no one would be there.

Except, Jungkook was. And the moment he saw that you were going to be in the closet with someone older than all of them, he had stepped forward and gone inside with you instead. He fully intended on not doing anything with you, of course.

“The look on your face was funny.” you snort, thinking about that memory. You haven’t talked about it with him ever - neither did you even tell Jay. Your brother made it clear from day one - back in elementary school when he met his closest friends - that you were to never be associated with them outside of a platonic relationship. 

They were off limits; and so were you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” Jungkook responds, snorting. You’ve done it so fast and it lasted less than five seconds. There was only a minute left in the game and you had placed a hand onto his chest and murmured a quiet “our little secret” before leaving. “You were like a little sister to me back then.”

Your smile immediately falls, your eyes shifting back to the road. The mood changes immediately and Jungkook notices it.

Your question you asked him before was did he know. Did he know that you liked him back then? You were only a freshman while your brother and him were juniors. You didn’t blame him for seeing you as a little sister as you all grew up around one another. He witnessed you and your brother fight and argue countless times, eyes bouncing between you and him with large doe-like eyes.

“How about now?” you ask as Jungkook stops at a red light. The roads are clear from any cars in sight. “Do you still think of me as a sister now?”

Jungkook allows himself to look at you fully now. He stares at you for a few moments, gathering your question into his mind. He doesn’t respond, unsure how to.

It was easier to see you as a little sister back then - all of the friend group had. Taehyung would always tease you like Jay had while Jimin was more of the caring type. 

Now, however, it was different. He noticed the shift as you began to grow older. Your senior year to be exact. Your figure changed, your voice grew a bit deeper and older. You were growing a bit mature for a senior girl. He told himself it was because you were a pretty girl so naturally, he would notice these changes.

But even after highschool, his eyes continued to wander to you and linger longer than they should. You moved in with Jay into his apartment to be closer to college and he would see you whenever he frequented there. Your shorts fit you perfectly, as did your shirts. You showed more skin (than Jay ever wanted you to) and when you spoke to him, it was always in a tone that Jungkook swore wasn’t entirely platonic.

“Kook?”

Jungkook blinks, turning his eyes away to look at the light that’s still red. He contemplates just running it as it’s nearly 3 a.m and not a single car around them. His cheeks are dusted a bit red when he realizes he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“No.” Jungkook says. “I don’t.” he answers truthfully.

“Kook?” you hum once more, this time a hand reaches out for him. It touches his arm and causes a jolt of electricity to shoot throughout his body.

“Yeah?” Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. This damn light wasn’t turning fast enough. He turns his attention towards you. He notices from this angel, the red lights are illuminating your face. Your lips are coated in gloss and it shines.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Another swallow, followed by a squeeze of the steering wheel.

“I lied about where I was going to Jay tonight. And…if I go home. He’ll see me dressed like this.” you explain further. It causes Jungkook to glance down at your attire again, immediately regretting it and then meeting your eyes. “He’ll call me a whore again.”

Jungkook wants to say no - that you should go home. Jay should be asleep by now; he had work in the morning right? 

Jungkook doesn’t see the issue of you being at his apartment. You’ve gone there before…with Jay. Without Jay, what would be the reason for you to be there? What if Jay found out and thought-

“You’re thinking too much into this, Kook.” your lips form into a smile and your head tilts. Your hand squeezes his biceps a bit. “Besides, what could go wrong? It’s just me.”

Everything could go wrong - and it did.

You’re unsure how long it took when you and him got into his apartment, but your lips were on his before either of you could think.

Jungkook’s mind screams at him to stop this. Not only were you not sober, but you were off limits. You were someone he respects greatly and shouldn’t take advantage of.

But your hands roam his chest, then go lower to his stomach. You grab hold of his hands and place them onto your hips - all the while continuing to deepen the kiss.

Jungkook gives in, pushing you closer. You smell of fruity alcohol and strawberries - your lips taste of peach; soft and sticky from the gloss. He’s hooked, the flooded feelings he suppressed coming out at such a terrible time. 

“I want you.” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck. Afraid to let him go in the guise that this could possibly be a (wet) dream; one you didn’t want to wake from just yet.

Jungkook knows you do, but he’s hesitant. Kissing you is bad and it goes against his friendship. But fucking you was something so heinous. If Jay found it, it would ruin nearly two decades of friendship.

“Please,” you repeat, one arm unhooking from his neck to take hold of one of his hand that’s gripping your ass. You dip it between your legs and through the skirt so he can feel just how much you wanted him. “please.” you repeat.

Jungkook groans - how much could one man handle? You’re soaking through your panties and the stockings you’re wearing. His fingers are directly against your clit and on instant, they rub circles on the wet, sensitive bud.

“Jay’s going to kill me if he finds out.” Jungkook groans, capturing your lips into his as his fingers dips between your wet folds. He makes no move to stop or push you away, however.

“It’ll be our little secret.” you say, repeating those very words he heard years ago. A secret he was going to take to the grave with him, no matter how small and insignificant it may have been back then.

Jungkook dips his fingers into your hole. It’s tight and squeezes around him. Instantly, he begins to pump, needing to feel just how wet you were for him.

You don’t hide your moans in the slightest. You wanted Jungkook to know how much you wanted this; wanted him. You waited years to be in this position - to have Jungkook all to yourself, even if it meant that you had to do it behind everyone’s back.

“Just for tonight.” Jungkook says, his warm breath tickling your cheek. “Tonight I’ll give you what you want.”

“The whole night?” your hand is still holding his wrist as he pumps his fingers deeply inside of you. Your arousal is coating his palm, a groan escaping your lips.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, eyes already clouded with lust. “you’re going to be insatiable.”

Jungkook removes his fingers from you, a whimper escaping your lips at the loss of them. He juts his head down the hall to the bedroom. He tugs you along, slamming the door open and leading you inside.

You don’t take your time in removing your clothes and the stocking, having them pool around you.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time pushing you onto his bed and pulling your legs apart. Your pussy is glistening underneath his LED lights and he groans at the beautiful sight. His head dives down, tongue swirling onto your clit. He’s groaning and grunting, his cock throbbing with just the act of eating you out.

It felt so wrong doing this, Jungkook thinks. The same young girl who was once so innocent and sweet was now you. The girl who was an adult who knew what she wanted. Who was laying naked on his bed and whimpering as he suckled onto your clit.

Your hand places itself onto his head, gripping his hair. Your hips grind against his tongue and he lays it flat so you could continue. The amount of times you thought of Jungkook in less than holy ways couldn’t be counted on both hands, but getting to live it out was a dream.

“Fuck, Kook.” you moan. 

Jungkook wasn’t going to stop until you came - which wasn’t far. He has your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your thighs to assure you cannot squirm away from him. His tongue laps your clit greedily, messy black hair jumping with the way his head bobs back and forth.

Jungkook’s cock is painfully hair as you moan for him. His eyes flicker up to your face - scrunched in pleasure with your eyes fluttering open just in time to meet him. He doesn’t look away, a satisfaction flowing through him when your eyes widen slightly and you groan. His tongue continues to ravish onto your cunt greedily until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You begged for him to fuck you right there. To take you as rough as he wanted - to not hold back. You were on birth control, you said. You wanted to feel him - all of him if this was going to be the one and only time.

Jungkook was but a man. He was already a fucked up person and friend. He sinks his cock into you and pounds you so disrespectfully - as if you weren’t his friend's baby sister. As if you weren’t someone he cared about deeply.

You begged for more, each thrust causing your stomach to churn. Your breast bounces erratically and your pussy’s already squeezing out another orgasm, but you don’t want this to end; neither does Jungkook.

Jungkook turns you around and fucks into you even deeper, your face pressed into his cotton sheets. Your ass was amazing from this view - it was going to be engraved into his mind. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” Jungkook whines, fully positive that he sounds like a school boy experiencing sex for the first time. 

It doesn’t help that you’re far too willing for him  to fuck you that you do whatever . You spread your  legs even further to allow him more access, nails digging into his sheets. He pounds into you with no mercy, your pussy squeezing him.

Jungkook hovers about your arched back, right hand dipping between your thighs to capture your already throbbing clit in his. He rubs it as he pounds into you, his lips close to your ear. “Are you really on birth control or was that a lie?”

“I-I am!” you say through moans. “A-Are you going to cum in me?”

Jungkook grunts - you weren’t going to make it easy for him, were you? The thought of cumming in you was exciting as he never did it with anyone without a condom. 

What’s the worst that can happen? You and he were already doing the unforgivable.

“You want me to cum in your pussy?” Jungkook’s voice sounds like sex, deep and sensual. 

You cum right there, overstimulation flowing through you but you nod your head erratically. You wanted any and every part of Jungkook that he was willing to give you.

And Jungkook had.He came right in you - again and again.

The fucking didn’t stop until he’s came in you at least four times. One time on your back so he could see your face as you cum around his cock. Once while you ride him, his hands cradling your hips possessively, eyes darting from the way you rise and fall on his wet cock to your bouncing breast in his face. The next follows immediately after, this time Jungkook taking control while you kept your position right above him.

Somehow, even then you weren’t done. You allowed yourself an hour before you asked if he could cum in your mouth. The request was outlandish but, Jungkook complied. You laid on your back and opened your mouth for him to, in your words, use you.

Jungkook should feel disgusted of himself for already using you as if you were nothing but a whore, but it was far too tempting. He pumps his cock into your mouth, watching the way you take him effortlessly and he ponders just how long you wanted this.

Him fucking your mouth turns to him fucking your breast - another request you had. His hands squeeze your breast together as his thumbs twirl against your hardened nipples.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts.

“Only for you.” was your response that has him cumming again, cum shooting out and coating your breast.

The amount of sex that you and he have leads the both of you exhausted, sprawled out on his ruined sheets and both breathing heavily and sweaty. Jungkook’s mind wanders to how he was going to be able to look at you or his friend in the face again without feeling like a complete asshole.

Neither of you have time to think when a loud ringing sound comes from down the hall. It’s your phone and judging by the time, you can guess who it was. 

“It’ll go to voicemail.” you murmur to Jungkook. “He still thinks I’m at a friends.”

Jungkook's heart sinks but he nods.

“Wanna shower with me?” you ask, a hand placing onto his sweaty forehead. “We can both use it.”

Jungkook sniffs. “If that’s what you’d like. We can.” he says. “Y/N, I-”

You place a hand onto his lips to silence him. “I know, Kook.” you murmur. “You don’t need to let me down easily.”

Jungkook lifts himself to a seated position. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” he shakes his head. “I just…I want you to know that I do have love and respect for you.” 

You blink as Jungkook continues.

“And I don’t want you to think that I view you as…a slut or…any less than before.” Jungkook’s cheeks are a crimson color now. “I-”

“Kookie,” you lift your body so that you can grab his hands into your own. The nickname was one he hadn’t heard since middle school and it immediately caught his attention. “I get it. Trust me.” you say, a smile forming onto your lips. “Did you know…” you began, repeating the question from earlier. “...that I liked you?”

Jungkook's mouth goes dry and slowly, he shakes his head. It should be surprising as Jungkook was oblivious to any and every girl that liked him.

However, Jungkook does recall one moment - an instant in which Jay had stated that you and him could never be together. It was a random comment that came entirely out of nowhere, but it happened right after you kissed him.

“Jay knew.” you murmur. “I didn’t tell him but…he knew.” you look away. “I thought maybe he told you. I’m glad he didn’t.”

Jay wouldn’t have - not even now. 

Jungkook slowly inhales. A part of him feels even more like an asshole because this was a mistake. You had feelings for him that should’ve been obvious if he wasn’t such an idiot. Things are much more complicated now.

“Let’s shower.” you say, noticing the change in Jungkook’s demeanor. This was a one time thing that wouldn’t happen again and you’ll grow to be fine with that. “Then if you’re up for it, you can show me that movie you’ve been talking about.”

Jungkook nods slowly, allowing you to tug him off the bed and towards his bathroom. His mind wanders back to your confession and recalls just the amount of times he’s caught you looking his way and smiling shyly when he notices.

Off limits, he hears Jay’s voice say in his mind over and over again as you turn the water on to heat up. He was fucked.

@darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @chimmy-licious @investedreader @momnomnom

[drgnflyteabox]

Soap finds himself a lucky charm // Soap x fem!reader // kidnapping, noncon, gambling, post-injury soap, unreliable narrator (he's crazy), johnny hears simons voice in his head <3, breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, ghoap elements but simon isnt in it

Johnny finds himself at the horse track of all places, six months to the day since his injury.

Simon doesn't know where he is, but he knows that Simon could find him as easily as anything. He hasn't yet. Space, is what Johnny had asked for. Space is what he's getting. It both upsets and pleases him.

Spending money is too easy. He splurges everywhere, on everything. Takeout, booze. His apartment's a pigpen of bottles and containers. All thanks to his honourable discharge stipend, which is generous thanks to Price, though he hasn't returned any of his calls.

Price could find him easily, too, but their relationship's been tight since the signing of the paperwork.

Not my choice, John had said tightly. My hands are tied.

A couple thousand down already, his lucks been off. Ever since the accident. It's not any of the post-TBI symptoms, it's spiritual. He feels it, deep in his gut.

Cosmic.

He should be in the field, but he's not. Something has shifted the wrong way. Everything feels, looks, is, slanted. Off.

Bonnie Bouquet is the horse he's been betting on. A few hundred at a time. She's a fast girl, but she's been finishing off the board lately. Losing him a lot of cash.

He can hardly focus as he a group of squawking, stumbling partygoers elbow in beside him.

There's a pulse that begins in his temples as he watches her fumble, outpaced by a horse called Apple Cider of all names. He feels a hot coal settle in his chest, frustration morphing into anger as costs him again.

That pulse turns to sharp, digging pain, the bullet back again and tunnelling it's way into his head. He can practically feel the thick, cottony fog come back on, the dizziness. His vision pinpoints onto the downturned arrow on the screen. He hears the gun cock again,

Bonnie Bouquet finishes tenth out of fourteen, and he swivels to snarl at the pack of harpies beside him when—

It's been a while. Longer than before the injury, even, since he's had pussy. That's why he deflates, chokes up, lets the swell of pain in his head wash over him without so much as a twitch when he sees you.

The answer. The solution he's been waiting for, right here in front of him, sent by God or the universe or fuck, he wouldn't put it past the team to have sent him a little consolation prize.

"There you are, Johnny," he hears Simon say. His voice is right there, in the room. You're for him. You're his light at the end of the tunnel, the reason he's been booted.

"S'all worth it now, isn't it?"

It'll be worth it when he can fit his cock in your snug little cunt, and make a new purpose for himself through your womb.

He doesn't think of how he looks when he approaches you, pushing past your clucking friends, eyes razor sharp and shoulders squared.

"What one are ye bettin on?" he opens, staring down at your surprised face, petal-soft mouth in a sweet little 'o'.

His cocks rock hard in his jeans, straining, and distantly he hears one of your friends gasp. He doesn't give a fuck. Look, hen, it's for ye. That's all for ye.

"Um," you stutter. Cute wee lamb, he thinks. "I think, uh, The Scottish Thistle."

The Scottish Thistle. As clear of a sign as any. Simon laughs, grating, "Picked a Scottish horse, didn't she? What else do you need, Johnny? A kick in the arse?"

Nothing. He needs nothing else to push out again, betting on The Scottish Thistle and winning for the first time in months.

You're terrified when you discover him in the backseat of your car.

Poor little lamb, trying to fight. Bleating and pushing against him with arms that haven't seen even a shade of what he has. But he's still strong, still got it, puts his arms like a vice around your throat until you're docile enough that he can take your keys and drag you back out into his truck.

It's alright. You'll understand soon enough, that you're meant for him. That you're gonna be his lucky charm, his cause, his justification. He'll make it all back and more. In droves.

And he if doesn't come back? He's still got warm, soft thing to sink right into. A comfort for his weary head.

You learn eventually, that this is destiny. That you're meant to be right here, tidying his house, taking his come right in that pretty pussy. Keeping it safe, he jokes to you. Creating a life for him where before he had died.

He could cry, when he sees the test. Johnny's gonna be a father.

You still tremble, even after all this time, wide little cow eyes looking up at him, teary. Beautiful.

"Look at that, hen," he shows you the stick, smiling at your happy tears, "awe, it's okay to be nervous. Ah ken you'll be a good mam."

He fucks you that night to celebrate, slots himself deep, crushes you with his body the way you like it. You don't really speak often, but that's okay. You're just naturally shy, and he doesn't mind living off your cute little sounds instead of words.

"Ah, good girl," he grunts, pumping, "gooood girl."

You squeak, pant, cry. Face wet with overwhelmed tears. You've stopped trying to fight, stopped pushing his hand away when he fingers your swollen clit and makes you come again.

Soon, he'll have a family.

"Purpose, again, Johnny. That's a good lad, give it to her good."

And when he brings you, belly swollen with the life he planted there, to the races again— he's sure you'll pick the right one.

[moonstruckme]

Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her

You may! Thank you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words

“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 

“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 

“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 

Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 

“Something you think I should know?” 

“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 

“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 

“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 

“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 

“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 

Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 

“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 

You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 

“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 

“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 

“I won’t.” 

You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 

You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 

“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 

“What?” 

He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 

You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 

“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 

“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 

You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 

“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 

“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 

Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 

Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 

“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 

You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 

“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 

You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 

Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  

Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 

“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 

His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 

[beloveds-embrace]

(Couldn’t stop thinking about this… so here lol)

The day you arrived as the new Duchess, the household braced for the worst.

The rumors about you had long preceded your arrival. The maids whispered in worried tones, recalling the vicious words printed in the society columns: that you were proud and frigid, a woman with no warmth in her heart, incapable of love or kindness. The footmen steeled themselves for the cold treatment they assumed you would bestow upon them. One butler, an old and steady man who had served the Price family for decades, stood rigid along the halls, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his expression carefully blank- though tension lined his shoulders.

And the men watched with quiet wariness as you stepped from the carriage with Kyle’s help, your gown flowing like water, your posture straight and your face unreadable. John had married you out of necessity, pressured by his position and the expectations placed upon a man of his standing. He had expected many things of you- pride, coldness, disdain.

The first sign that the rumors were false came in the way you carried yourself.

You did not sweep into the estate like a queen expecting devotion; you entered cautiously, your movements precise, your gaze flickering from one unfamiliar face to another with something that almost resembled apprehension. You were quiet, barely speaking unless spoken to, and when you did respond, your voice was soft and measured, never sharp.

The second sign came with the staff.

They had expected cruelty. Some had even resigned themselves to enduring the rule of a cold and haughty duchess, one who would scrutinize their work, find fault in the smallest details, and wield her authority like a blade- especially maids who came from other estates, serving under other nobles. But instead, they found that you hardly seemed to know what to do with them at all.

You never raised your voice. You never scolded or criticized them unfairly. In fact, you barely issued orders at all, preferring instead to quietly accept what was given to you- your meals, your gowns, your schedules- without complaint or demand. The maids had watched in stunned silence when, upon being asked if you wished for a particular set of linens in your chambers, you hesitated for a long moment before murmuring, “Whichever you think best. I am not particular about it.”

The maids quickly learned that you disliked being fussed over. You did not preen before the mirror or demand endless, impossible adjustments to your hair and attire. If anything, you seemed almost uncomfortable with prolonged attention, your hands clasped together in your lap, your eyes averted as if uncertain where to look. When they had first presented you with an elaborate, albeit a bit… gaudy, gown adorned with gemstones and intricate embroidery, you had stared at it in silence before hesitantly asking, “Is there… something simpler?”

And then there were the men.

John had assumed that, at best, you would be a distant and indifferent wife, content to live separate lives while maintaining appearances. Kyle and Johnny had expected someone who would look down upon them, someone who might sneer at the idea of her husband keeping company with his own butler and chef and another duke, should the day come you’d find out about their relationship. Simon had expected to dislike you entirely.

None of them had expected you.

You, who startled so easily when Johnny laughed too loud or Kyle joined your side to help you with your duties.

You, who shied away from lingering gazes, who seemed to struggle with conversation not out of rudeness, but out of a deeply ingrained discomfort with being the center of attention.

You, who kept your hands folded neatly in your lap at the dinner table, answering their attempts at conversation in soft, careful words before retreating into silence, averting your gaze when you’d notice how touchy they were with one another.

They were used to seeing behind masks, and yours was not a mask at all; it was simply the way you were.

And the worst offense you ever committed, in the eyes of society, was that you did not smile.

The rumors had always described your expression as cold, John remembers, but the truth was far simpler: you did not smile often because you did not know how.

You had spent so long avoiding unnecessary interactions, so long trapped beneath the weight of others’ expectations, that smiling had never become natural to you. And when you did attempt it- when you forced your lips into an unfamiliar curve- it often came out wrong, too stiff, too hesitant, almost a grimace rather than an expression of joy.

You had learned, early on, that this only made things worse. That people took your forced smiles as sneers, your awkward expressions as condescension.

So you stopped trying.

But your lack of smiles did not mean you were unkind.

The staff saw it in the way you murmured thank you whenever something was brought to you, even though you never expected to be served.

The men saw it in the way you listened, truly listened, when they spoke- not out of obligation, but out of genuine interest, even if you did not always know how to respond.

The head maid saw it when you found her in the hallway one afternoon, an unopened book in your hands, hesitating before asking: “Would this be of any interest to you? You- you said your granddaughter is learning her words, and this book might be of help…?”

Kyle saw it when you stepped aside one morning to let a maid carrying a basket pass first, even though no one of your standing would ever be expected to do so.

John saw it when he caught you in the garden, sitting in the sun with a book in your lap, your fingers tracing the edges of the pages, your expression soft and unguarded. You were not cold. You were not cruel.

You were simply quiet.

And that, he realized, was why the world had hated you.

Because high society thrived on spectacle, on sharp words and bright smiles and effortless charm. Because they did not understand a woman who did not laugh at the right moments, who did not command attention, who did not play the game the way they expected.

Because they had never looked closely enough to see you for what you truly were. But he- them, and all of the staff did, and It did not take long for the estate to settle into the truth of you, to grow accustomed to the quiet rhythm of your presence.

You were not the cruel woman they had feared.

You were simply you.

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men Role Reversal with Reader

AN: I love the idea of this. Works well with reader pov 🤌🏻🤌🏻 Also if anyone knows a top or gn reader blog for LADS please let me know (I do not own these characters)

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: Role reversal & cannon divergence

Summary: What if places are switched. They are the bearer of Aether core and you are the past.

Rafayel:

You walk into the art museum, marveling at the strokes that lifetimes have failed to change. How is it that he still paints the same?

You are drawn to him as moths to flame.

In some divine way, despite being wrenched from your kingdom, fate is merciful to you. It always contrives a way for your path to cross his.

Your powers are long diminished, time is cruel like that. But the years spent in his world have given you enough leverage to hire him as a painter. To commission a portrait of yourself, just so you may have the mercy of watching him paint again.

This time, you wonder, will he, who has left you waiting for so long, remember you? Will he still remember how to love you?

You look at him, his furrowed brows, his pronounced pout, his dramatic tendency to flail and fall. He remains unchanged.

Xavier:

He is there before your eyes, as if conjured by the very moonlight itself.

One moment, you were slaying the Wandered. The next, you blinked to rest your eyes, and he was by your side, calling your name frantically, his hands steadying your shoulders.

You would have felt him, had you not been so tired. How could you not have known? Perhaps this is the last mercy the universe has to offer, to let you meet him for one final lifetime.

And so, it begins again.

The last dance of your last spring with him.

This lifetime will not see him sacrificed. None after this will either, because you will make sure of it.

Picking up your sword, you follow him, sidestepping his mumbled questions with ill-concealed fondness.

That last spring becomes the most beautiful of all the springs you have ever spent beside him.

Zayne:

In every reincarnation, you never quite know when the memories will return. But they always do. Lord Astra makes certain of it, allowing you the agony of foreknowledge.

It is the price you pay for leaving him. For choosing Zayne.

His presence comes at a steep cost.

But the grief of the past has never dampened the joy of another lifetime with him.

It has only made you foolishly stubborn, unyielding in your desire to defy his fate.

You meet him as a friend, a lover, a colleague in some lives. A riddling foreseer in others.

Yet, no matter how much time erodes the traces of your world, he remains untouched. In some twisted amusement, your Lord Astra ensures that Zayne always falls in love with you.

In every life, you cross paths. In every life, Zayne offers you his heart with the same sincerity. And you, despite the centuries of pain, accept it foolishly.

Because no matter the cost, you refuse to break his heart. All the foreknowledge in the world has failed to make you stop loving him.

Sylus:

Head of the Onichynus?

He seriously never stops surprising your ancient senses.

You grin at your mate as he guides you into the embellished mansion of his latest empire. Countless rebirths have failed to dull his chaos.

Somehow, they have also failed to make your heart any wiser.

So, you play your part, the spoiled aristocrat whisked- away to gather intel, watching him roll his eyes at your complaints.

Somewhere along the way, this endless cycle of separation and reunion has stopped aching. Instead, it hums beneath your skin, a yearning that lingers, waiting for him to remember.

He always remembers.

No matter what land you are born into, no matter what name you take, your mate always finds his way back to you.

You only have to wait. To play along with his games.

Who are you to complain, when he has so meticulously planned your first meeting?

Sometimes, even dragons play the part of a sheep.

Caleb:

You watch as he collapses in the academy lobby.

Your heart shudders at the sight of him, his gaunt face, his sunken eyes.

He has lost weight.

You caused this. Your death.

Every day, he wakes earlier than before. Every night, he loses more sleep. Working himself to the bone, chasing perfection, desperate to be the best among the aerospace cadets.

He still wears your dog tag pendant. The one he once gifted to you. It brings you some comfort.

You wish—oh, how you wish, to run to him. To hold him. To tell him you are alive.

To force him to rest. To forbid him from risky missions he volunteers for to progress faster into his role.

Yet, you cannot afford to. Not yet.

Someday, you will return to him. Stronger than you are now. You will make sure he never suffers again. Perhaps he doesn’t need you to do that, but you will no longer allow anyone to control both of your lives.

Not after how close you had come to losing him alongside your grandmother.

This time, you will keep him away from EVER’s claws.

Or rather, this time, you will be the one to hunt the monster that has haunted him for so long.

[casedeviant]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𓋰 ╭ 18+ ╮ top male reader & bottom transmasc satoru gojo ⓘ solo masturbation . phone sex . sex toys . squirting . multiple orgasms . voice kink . daddy kink . talking him through it but you're at work . twt link . 1.7k wc

i did not plan for this to be so long lol but horny 3am thoughts i guess. not proof-read. love the thought of gojo being super giggly and a little airy when he's horny. grown ass man btw. anyways, inspired by this suggestive video i saw on twt. enjoy.

what are you going to do when your boyfriend satoru randomly sends you a video of him grinding his clit up and into your bedsheets, just half an hour after you left the apartment to go to work?

you're in the office, impossibly hard now, wracking over all the ways you could make use of his holes instead of all the ways you should be writing paperwork instead; it didn't help either, that all of this is left up to your imagination at eight o'clock in the morning.

the video wasn't even that explicit to begin with. but he always knew how to be a sleazy little thing at the most inappropriate of times, getting under your skin at any chance he thought was amusing and necessary.

before you proceed to play the short and scandalous video, you slip in your airpods from their case that was sheltering against the pockets of your slacks, turning the volume down to a moderate level.

it's not like it mattered when you had both earbuds in, but with how easily they can block out the noises around you, you felt like you needed to experience this way before you lost your mind completely.

after you hover over the play button, your thumb comes down on the illuminated screen, sizing the video into full screen that has you tilting it horizontally.

your cock instantly responds at the sight behind your pants, forcing you to hunch over yourself against your office desk. one of your hands come up to your chin in riveted focus, as the other holds the end of your phone, lightly letting it sit against the mahogany wood.

"daddy- i miss you... i woke up from a wet dream where you were violating my sweet, little body. i can't stop thinkin' about you and your big, stupid, fat cock."

your brows crinkle and you let out a sigh, running a palm down your face, ever so slowly, at that nickname. it was no use trying to rub away the frustration as clear as day on your countenance, when the only frustration was actually sitting in your pants and not displayed on your face instead.

satoru was tickling your patience.

"f-feels... good... ngh" your eyes carefully watch him guide his lower half up and into the crinkled duvet. one of his hands rested on the outside, as his hips bucked up, adding pressing. the line of muscles that sat against his lower stomach and navel flattened and then bulked as he continued the rocking motion, slips and stutters ensuing.

i know, my sweet boy, would be what you'd say to him if you were there with him in that moment, but instead, you reply with a "come in", as your secretary interrupts your riveting watch time with a hefty knock on the door.

"but it's never as good as what your warm cock feels like inside of me."

a cough suddenly escapes your lips, and she looks over at you with a raised eyebrow. you then deadpan at her, adjusting your tie.

"what is it?"

"we have a meeting in five?"

shit, you forgot about that.

"fine, whatever. i'll be out there in a second. so give me a bit of time to prepare these papers."

she pushes up the spectacles on the bridge of her nose suspiciously as you placed your phone screen down against the table, the light catching against her glass frames. she nods at you with a sigh, the stern look on her face prior, washing away. she bows politely before excusing herself from the room.

as she closes the door behind her, you immediately turn your phone over to look at the video again.

and that's when you thought it couldn't get any better than it sounded listening to your boyfriends moans over important business meetings.

the duvet has migrated further down his thighs now, just resting above his knees. and you watch him furiously rub away at his clit with two fingers in a circular pattern.

"fuck, satoru..." you breathe out from underneath your breath as he continues to pleasure himself in the video.

"ah! ah! right there~ oh my god, [name]! s' good! ahh....ahhh...p-please" the whine at the end of his string of pleasurable moans caught you off guard with how vulnerable they sounded.

how long ago was this video sent? fuck it, i'm calling him.

when you exit out the video before it finishes, you click on the phone icon that dials up his number.

"hmm, baby? what are you doing calling me up this early in the morning?"

cheeky bastard.

"strip."

there's a moment of silence, and you know exactly what type of facial expression the man is making – that stupid little smile, index nail caught between his front teeth. looking real innocent for someone who's fucking guilty of turning you on so early in the morning.

"'nd how do you know i'm not already naked?"

"'satoru. do as you're told."

"ah......"

"you don't want to disappoint daddy just before an important meeting, do you?"

"..."

you hear him begin to take his clothes off behind the phone, ruffling noises filling your ears.

"there, are you happy now?"

"not quite. put the phone down, onto the vanity for me."

with how much his voice echoed from before, you knew he was in the ensuite bathroom. probably preparing to shower after just getting himself off. stupid mutt.

"okayyyyy... 'nd then what?" he asks in a spunky voice. a devious smirk graces your lips.

"then, i want you to put the glass holder for our toothbrushes, over the speaker."

at this point, satoru isn't quite sure what you are up to. but after more moving noises, he replies back to you.

"i did it... is this really mea-"

"now, i want you to go into the bottom drawer, where you will find something very, very special."

after you interrupt him, he bends over to inspect it. as surmised, inside, there was a pink vibrating dildo you bought just for him.

"i-"

his voice shakes, not from embarrassment, but out of pure joy that you bought him something "so cute!".

"good boy, 'toru."

satoru swallows thickly, anticipating your next instructions carefully, now understanding what you wanted him to do.

"are you still wet from earlier?"

"mhm"

"use your words, boy."

"y-yes... i'm still- wet, daddy."

"good. i want you to attach that dildo to the side of the sink for me, just below your phone. i need to hear how properly soaked you are."

you hear the suction cup underneath the dildo seize the side of the vanity, giving your go-to to speak.

satoru is already slightly bent over, rubbing his folds over the toy. you can hear it as clear as day, the slippery sounds reverberating in your skull.

as you stand to proceed to leave, you slip your phone in your pocket, deciding to go with one earbud so it wasn't as noticeabley suspicious. you left the odd one on your desk as you left your office, heading towards the meeting room.

"d-daddy? are you there?"

"just a second, my love."

you step into the vacant elevator that took you to the floor with the meeting room.

"are you still there, my love?"

"mhmm... how do i- turn it on? i need this thing inside of me, right now!"

you chuckle before pressing the earbud into your ear to hear him better.

"on the side. but do it carefully, i want to hear you take it slowly, imagining its me fucking you instead."

satoru whines at that notion, already picturing the angle your cock naturally tilted at. he then pressed the pink, now vibrating, silicone head against his dripping entrance, knees buckling when it pushes in.

the squelch sound could be heard crystal clearly amongst his whines, and it makes you wonder how the hell you're going to hide the half-boner in your pants.

as the elevator dings, informing you that you arrived at the correct floor, you step outside.

"i don't want to hear you stop or take a break at all during my meeting, got it, my dear?"

satoru nods his head furiously, as if you could see him... "yes, daddy. i under- ah! stand..."

the silver-haired man pushes his hips back, sheathing the entire dildo into his hole. his back arches, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between his legs as his knees bend together, holding him upright.

"welcome, [name]"

satoru hears on the other end of the phone, and he knew the meeting was about to begin. you nod nonchalantly, moving into the room with the rest of them.

"f-fuckkk. ah! oh god." satoru snivels, reaching his first climax as more drool exudes from his weeping cunt and onto the cold tiles below him. he fucks himself through it, his ass repeatedly slapping against the vanity's side. the echoes sends a shiver down your spine.

you inhale sharply, running a hand through your hair as you take a seat next to your secretary.

"the meeting has begun."

you nod when the gentleman the opposite side of you, announces.

"d-daddy. i need you so bad. FUCK! it feels like 'm gonna cum... again. holy shit- this thing slaps."

you roll your eyes at the way he breaks tone, thinking that you were directing it at the fellow in front of you. the man glares at you, before continuing to speak again.

you were thankful that you didn't need to speak much this meeting.

as time passed, and it ended, you hear satoru squirt on the other end of the phone, the suction cup that was holding the dildo to the sink, slipping off.

you hear him collapse to the ground, slapping his own pussy. heat instantly reaches your ears at that thought; slapping his cunt, that's a new dirty drink you'd like to try out for yourself.

i wonder what face he is making. you think to yourself.

"sir?" your secretary calls out to you, and you stand up from your seat, excusing yourself as the others packed up too. as the two of you make it back to your office in silence in the elevator, you quickly excuse her.

"'toru? baby, are you still with me?"

"..."

"satoru?"

"hehehehe"

"fucking hell..."

you let out a momentary sigh.

"you're going to regret sending me that video so early in the morning, when i get home from work today."

"oh yeah?"

you let out a hearty chuckle.

"you don't believe me?"

"i don't knowwww. maybe i don't." he lets out a small titter again, clearly fatigued from coming so much

"stop it. get a shower. your daddy will be home in..." you check your watch, sighing, realising, your day is just getting started.

"...soon."

[luveline]

can we have bed time with dad!spencer, his baby boy and reader? 

Jude has brown eyes like Spencer. They have the same mouth and nose, the same thoughtful gaze. “That’s me,” Spencer says, Jude’s back to his chest, an arm between his legs to keep the little boy steady, “and this is you.” He points at Jude before smoothing a hand over his chest. “See us? That’s dad and Jude.” 

“Us,” Jude echoes. 

“Yeah, that’s us.”

Jude works his lips up into a smile. 

They smell like talc and lavender oil for the teeny tiny burns on Jude’s fingertips. He touched the oven door a few days ago while it was still on, Spencer gets hot remembering how hard Jude cried. It took more kisses than he bothered counting to make him stop screaming, an ice pop held to his small hand with a hand towel wrapped around it, squeezed to the bathroom door together —the first place Spencer could remember seeing a towel, Jude still sobbing. 

Spencer wants Jude to associate the bathroom with normal things. Peeing, showering, and not the little burns. If he can have happy associations, that’s better. Like dad and Jude’s night time routine, where Spencer brings him in here to brush his teeth and dab his face clean with a cloth. Some nights he needs to detangle his hair, or give his baby an impromptu shower, and some nights Jude is already asleep by the time Spencer remembers these things. 

“You’re really handsome,” Spencer says, pointing at the mirror, “see? You’re beautiful. See your smile?” 

Jude giggles excitedly. “I am beautiful,” he says proudly. 

“Exactly, you’re beautiful. Are you happy?” 

“Yeah,” he says, tipping back, his curls tickling Spencer’s nose. 

“Are you comfy?” Spencer whispers. 

“Think so.” 

“You think so,” Spencer says, beaming to himself as he kisses the top of Jude’s head. “You’re smart, Judey. Okay, how do we know we’re comfortable? Are your clothes tight? Do you want to take off your socks?”

“No.” 

“Okay, good. Does your mouth still taste all minty from the paste?” 

A flicker of disgust. “Yeah, it does.” 

“I’ll get you your sippy cup. You don’t seem tired, are we having a story?” he asks, voice turned to fatherly syrup as he shifts Jude around. He turns off the bathroom light and shuts the door behind them as they leave. 

“No, I wan’ be in the big bed.” 

“You do?” 

“With you.” 

“Okay, that’s okay, you can be in the big bed, are you sure you don’t want a story too? We can read about Edward the rabbit again.” 

Jude doesn’t bother answering. Spencer tends to read to him every night unless Jude has expressly shouted that he doesn’t want one, ‘cos that’s what his mom did for him, and Spencer loves his mom. 

Spencer fills Jude’s sippy cup with water (not so much a sippy cup as a bottle), and they retreat together to the big bed. In the middle of the bed, tired and curled up and waiting for them, is you. You perk up enough to drag yourself to one side of the bed as you kick down the sheets. 

Spencer isn’t used to this, but he should be. (This, because there isn’t really a word for it? For being friends and for not being intimate and for sleeping in the same bed together whenever you stay the night.) 

“Hi, baby,” you say, holding your arms out for Jude. 

Spencer gives him over. Jude suckles his drink, a picture of the baby he was when Spencer first got him as he turns into your chest. He’d need all the help he could get back then. You’d given more than he could ever ask for, and Jude knows you for that. 

You tip Jude against you and press yourself flat, your hand spread over his back. 

“Are you reading Edward Tulane tonight?” you ask quietly. 

“Just a bit. Couple of pages.” 

“Sounds good. You okay, mister?” you ask Jude. 

He nods around his drink. 

Spencer turns the light off and the lamp on, bathing you and Jude in a kind orange glow. The mattress sinks under his weight, dipping under yours, encouraging you closer together in the middle. You barely notice the outside influence, shuffling across the pillows to rest your face against Spencer’s arm. 

“Did you want milk?” Spencer asks him. “You can have some, it’s okay.” 

“Minty,” Jude whispers. 

“Minty,” you whisper in support. “Daddy takes good care of those teeth, huh?” 

Jude loves being spoken to sweetly. He closes his eyes as you pull him like a curve to you, squished and cuddling. You’re his mirror, eyes fluttering shut as you sniff his hair. Spencer loves your smile —he knows what you’re thinking, because he knows what you’re thinking. Jude still smells like baby. 

“Maybe this book is too sad,” Spencer says, thumbing to the last page he’d read from. 

“It’s not too sad, and we won’t be awake long.” 

“My Judey told me he’s not tired,” Spencer says. 

“My Judey needs his sleep,” you whisper.

Jude smiles and lets the rest of the cup fall away from him. “Can say you love me?” Jude whispers. 

“Who, baby?” Spencer asks. 

“You and you,” he says. 

You take a deep breath, whispering grandly, “I love you.” 

Spencer follows suit with a hand wrapped around Jude’s calf. “I love you, too. So much they don’t have a word for it yet. You know your middle name, you know what it means? Anwil, it means loved one, because I love you a lot. And I have forever and ever.” 

“And ever?” Jude asks. 

Spencer rubs his leg softly. “And ever. More than Y/N does.” 

You gasp in offense. “No way!”

Jude giggles but settles as you run your fingers through his hair. Spencer lays down and cracks the book over his chest, falling into his usual reading cadence, though he doesn’t bother much with special voices. Jude’s eyes are already shut and he’s jelly on your chest. 

He leans over mid story to brush hair from Jude’s ear. “I love you,” he says, to be sure.

Jude says something back that sounds like, “too.” 

[flwrstqr]

HONEY, HONEY ⠀ ⟡​⠀ WHEN THEY WANT YOUR ATTENTION ───𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

𝓲⠀⠀ ⦂ enhypen & fem!rea 𝑖𝑛 8OO fluff one shot head canon 警告 cursing, skinship, petnames, jealousy & click . . ( 𝓲ssue )

다니 ⠀⦂ ⠀this is dedicated to juni & annachu (> <) i know i alternated the title a bit & the prompt... but hope you guys enjoy xoxo. also thank you jenn for help on certain members 💌

LEE HEESEUNG

"baby, don’t you think you’ve talked about that guy enough?” heeseung pouts, arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i mean, sure, he helped you with your project, but did he hold your hand while you stressed over it? did he kiss your forehead and tell you you’re the smartest, prettiest person ever? no? exactly.” he leans back, eyes narrowing playfully. “i bet he doesn’t even make you laugh like i do. does he send you good morning texts? compliment your hair? tell you how much he adores you?" he intertwines your fingers, bringing them to his lips with a pout. "face it, angel, no one loves you like i do," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your jaw. "so how about we focus on me now, hmm?"

PARK JAY

jay doesn’t say it—he never does—but you know. you feel it in the way his arm drapes over your shoulders, effortlessly pulling you against his warmth as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand. in the way he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering for just a second too long. in the way he exhales softly, setting his phone down as if nothing else in the world matters except you. "let’s go out," he murmurs, voice low, but there’s no second-thinking. an expensive dinner, a shopping trip where he never lets you check the price tags, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through every store. you don’t have to ask, don’t have to wonder—because when jay wants your attention, he gives you all of his first.

SIM JAKE

“baby, look at me,” jake whines, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “why aren’t you paying attention to me? i’m right here.” his lips graze your skin, warm and teasing, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. “you love me, don’t you? then love me properly,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek, hands roaming your back in slow, lazy circles. when you hum in response, still distracted, he groans dramatically, placing his head onto your lap. “you’re so mean to me,” he sulks, his voice muffled. “just wanna be spoiled by my baby. is that too much to ask?” he lifts his head, eyes big and pleading. “one kiss, and i’ll forgive you.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is shamelessly competitive when it comes to you, and it’s honestly hilarious. the moment another guy dares to make you smile, he’s swooping in. “your hair looks really nice today,” some guy says, and before you can even respond, sunghoon’s already cutting in, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “nice? angel, you look like you just stepped out of a dream. actually, scratch that—you are the dream.” his voice is smooth, like he’s making sure you don’t even think about entertaining someone else’s compliment. when the other guy laughs, trying again with, “you have a really pretty smile,” sunghoon scoffs, tilting your chin up. “of course she does. it’s the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, and, by the way, i’m the reason she's smiling.” he smirks, eyes flickering to you, desperate for confirmation. “right, baby?”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo is so dramatic when he wants your attention, and he makes sure you know it. he starts with a loud, exaggerated sigh, arms crossed as he leans against you. when you don’t react fast enough, another sigh—longer, heavier. finally, you glance at him, and there he is, bottom lip jutted out in the deepest pout, eyes wide and pleading. “baby…” he whines, nudging his head against your shoulder. “you’ve been ignoring me for so long.” (it’s been five minutes.) when you try to hold back a laugh, he only pouts harder, leaning in until his face is this close to yours. “don’t you feel bad? look at me,” he insists, tilting his head. “my lips are a bit lonely today.” and oh, he’s expecting it now, tilting his chin up ever so slightly, waiting for you to finally give in and kiss the pout away.

YANG JUNGWON

you barely register the way jungwon tugs at your wrist until you suddenly find yourself pulled onto his lap, his arms circling around your waist with ease. “baby—what are you doing?” you laugh, but he only hums, resting his chin on your shoulder like this is the most natural thing in the world. “you weren’t paying attention to me,” he mumbles, voice laced with the smallest pout.you huff, pretending to be annoyed, but the way your heart races betrays you. “you could’ve just asked, you know,” you murmur, but he shakes his head, squeezing you a little tighter. “this is better,” he grins, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “now you have no choice but to focus on me.” and when he nuzzles into your neck, you know he’s already won.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“baby, pay attention to me,” riki whines, snatching your phone right out of your hands with that smirk. he holds it high above his head, effortlessly out of reach, and you groan, standing on your tiptoes to grab it. “oh? trying so hard, huh?” he teases, laughing as you struggle. determined, you lunge up, but just like every cliché romcom, your foot slips, and before you know it, you're crashing right into him—chest to chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. “woah, princess, if you wanted to be in my arms, you could’ve just asked,” he chuckles. you glare, cheeks burning, but he only tightens his hold, grinning down at you. “you’re cute when you’re flustered,” he muses, finally handing your phone back—only to boop your nose and whisper, “but i’m still the only thing you should be looking at.”

[luvoooenha]

Juno!

Doing ‘Juno’ positions in front of my boyfriend

Summary- Y/N was really into Sabrina Carpenter's ‘Juno’ Positions and decided to try them in front of her boyfriend. 

Pairing- hyung line! enha x girlfriend Y/n!

Warnings - spicy, freaky positions, fluff, loveable couples, kissing, cuddling, skinship, uhh lowkey idk pls lmk what i missed…

Word count - 1.8k

a/n! - have you ever tried this one? SORRY I HAVE SO MANY SABRINA CARPENTER STORY LINES I WANNA DO 

-

Heeseung - Standing Doggy

“Wait—babe, you can’t laugh!” I warned him with a smile, pushing Heeseung onto the couch before turning toward my laptop.  

“I won’t,” he chuckled, leaning back against the cushions. “But what exactly are you doing?”  

Ignoring his question, I scrolled through my playlist and clicked play on Juno. As the opening notes filled the room, I turned to face him, hands on my hips.  

Heeseung’s eyes slowly trailed over my outfit—his gaze darkening as it took in the tight, red, bedazzled bodysuit hugging every inch of me in all the right places. The deep cut of the neckline, the way the high-cut sides accentuated my waist, and, of course, the chunky white platform boots that made me at least five inches taller.  

“First of all,” he started, leaning forward slightly, “what are you wearing?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips.  

I frowned slightly, a teasing pout forming. “Do you not like it?”  

His smirk widened, hands gripping his knees as if to keep himself in place. “No, baby, I love it. Makes you look sexy as hell.”  

He started to get up, but I immediately placed my hands on his chest, pushing him back down. “I said watch.”  

I scrunch my nose and leaned in to give him a light peck before turning back to my laptop.  

“You make me wanna make you fall in love…”  

The song’s sultry lyrics filled the room, and I let myself move to the beat, swaying my hips side to side. As 'Juno' played, I let my body follow along, rolling my hips slowly with the rhythm. When Sabrina sang, "Wanna try out some freaky positions?" I accentuated the line with a deliberate motion, placing a hand on my hip and rolling it teasingly.  

Heeseung’s smirk grew, his eyes locked onto me like I was the only thing in the room.  

I took a slow step back, turning slightly to the side, then bent forward, arching my back into the standing doggy position right in front of him.  

“Have you ever tried this one?” I sang along, glancing over my shoulder.  

His jaw clenched, his fingers tapping against his thighs as he spread his legs slightly wider. He was holding back, but I could see the restraint wavering.  

His voice was huskier now. “Babe…”  

I straightened up and turned to face him, still moving with the beat, loving the way his eyes followed my every movement. His fingers curled against his jeans, and I knew he was waiting—waiting for me to finish, waiting to see just how far I’d take this little performance.  

With a playful grin, I straddled his lap, my arms draping around his neck as I whispered, “Are you just gonna sit there and watch all night?”  

Heeseung’s hands finally found my waist, gripping firmly as he pulled me closer, his lips ghosting over my ear.  

“You started this, baby,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “But now? It’s my turn.”  

And just like that, my little performance turned into something way more than just a show.  

-

more below cut!

Jay- Standing One Leg Up

Y/N had been down a Juno rabbit hole for the past week. Ever since she saw Sabrina Carpenter flawlessly execute those daring, flexible positions onstage, she’d been obsessed. The confidence, the control, the absolute power of it all.

So naturally, she decided she had to try them herself.

Jay was sprawled out on her bed, scrolling on his phone, completely oblivious to the chaos about to unfold. Y/N took a deep breath, hyping herself up. Alright, girl, channel your inner Sabrina. You got this.

"Hey, love," she purred, standing at the foot of the bed.

He looked up, intrigued. "Yeah?"

Without another word, she attempted the first move—one leg stretched high, arms positioned for balance. Except… balance she did not have. In a matter of seconds, she wobbled, lost her footing, and landed not-so-gracefully in a heap on the floor.

Jay shot up, eyes wide. "Oh my God—are you okay?"

Y/N groaned, face half-buried in the carpet. "Yeah… totally meant to do that."

Jay bit back a laugh, failing miserably. "What exactly are you doing?"

She sat up dramatically, flipping her hair. "I was trying to recreate the Juno moves. Y’know, from Sabrina’s tour?"

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Wait, like the crazy bendy ones?"

"The very same," she said, striking a pose (while seated this time—safer that way).

Jay smirked, getting up and offering her a hand. "Baby, I love the effort, but I also love you in one piece."

Y/N huffed playfully. "So you're saying I shouldn’t try the one where I—"

"Nope. Absolutely not," he cut in, laughing. "Though, I mean, if you really wanna impress me, you could always just… sit next to me and let me adore you."

Y/N pretended to think it over. "That does sound easier than breaking my spine."

Jay pulled her onto the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, and way cuter."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine, but next time, I’m practicing with a helmet and knee pads."

Jay chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. "I’ll be there with an ice pack, just in case."

-

(click on sc to see the positionnnn)

Jake - Oral

From the moment I stepped into the living room, Jake’s eyes locked onto me. He barely glanced at the TV, barely acknowledged whatever he was doing in the kitchen. His entire focus was on me—the way my light pink mini skirt hugged my hips, how the pink corset from last year’s Halloween costume pushed up my chest.

His gaze darkened immediately. I could practically see the thoughts running through his head.

Jake moved fast, stepping out of the kitchen, his long legs eating up the distance between us. “Mami, what are you doing?” he murmured, his voice husky as he pressed soft kisses against my neck.

I let out a light chuckle, tilting my head to the side to give him more access. “I wanna show you something.”

He frowned slightly when I placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed him back, but he followed me into the bedroom anyway, curiosity sparking in his dark eyes.

I grabbed the dry shampoo bottle off the dresser and turned to face him with a playful smile.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Okay…? What are you supposed to do with that?”

I tried to move away, but he was already clinging to me again—his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his body pressed against mine. He smelled like cologne and a hint of vanilla from the cereal he was eating earlier.

“Loveeeee,” I whined, squirming in his grip. “Let go for just a second. I want to show you something.”

Jake sighed dramatically but finally let go. “This better be good.” He flopped onto the couch, legs spread wide, watching me with narrowed eyes.

I grinned, scrolling through my phone until I found "Juno" and pressed play. The smooth beat filled the room, and I wasted no time getting into it—swaying my hips, running my hands up my thighs as I moved in sync with the music. Jake’s frown was gone now, replaced by something hungrier.

When the verse hit, I dropped to my knees.

With one hand, I lazily tugged my hair into a loose ponytail, my fingers curling around the strands. In the other, I held the dry shampoo bottle, positioning it right in front of my lips. I moved it up and down in slow, teasing motions, smirking as I sang along to the lyrics.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Jake froze.

His jaw clenched, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His knuckles turned white where he gripped his knee.

Then, before I could blink, he snatched the bottle out of my hand and tossed it onto the couch. His other hand reached for his phone, and I heard the faint click of the camera.

“Oh, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with something dark and amused. He ran his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly, making my scalp tingle.

I looked up at him, batting my lashes innocently. “What?”

Jake tilted his head, his smirk widening. “I like this.”

He tucked his phone away and leaned forward, his hand sliding down to my chin, forcing me to keep my eyes locked on his. “But I think I’d like the real thing even more.”

His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his gaze dropping, heat simmering behind those brown eyes.

And I had a feeling we weren’t making it out of the living room anytime soon.

-

Sunghoon- One Leg up- split

Y/N had never been one to back down from a challenge, and tonight was no different.

Ever since she saw Sabrina Carpenter effortlessly performing those “Juno” positions on tour, she’d been obsessed. The way Sabrina moved—so confident, so fluid, so in control—it was the kind of energy Y/N wanted to channel.

So, naturally, she decided she was going to try them herself. In front of Sunghoon.

Bad idea? Maybe. But she was committed.

Sunghoon, her ever-supportive but annoyingly amused boyfriend, sat on her bedroom floor, leaning back on his hands as he watched her cue up Juno on her speaker. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re trying to recreate the Juno positions?”

“Yes.” Y/N turned to him with full confidence. “Prepare to be amazed.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “Oh, I’m prepared.”

The music started, and Y/N took a deep breath. First, she rolled her shoulders back, channeling her inner pop star. Then, she stepped forward with a dramatic hip sway, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she owned the stage. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, impressed so far.

Then came the first move— I laid on my side, lifted up on leg, then the split, which landed perfectly

“Have you ever tried this one?” I asked with a smile on my face, being happy that I landed the split. Sunghoon was already grinning.

“Damn love, you look so hot while doing that,” He smirked and got up to lift me from the floor.

I giggled, “oh trust me, in my pj shorts? Sure my love…” As he picked me up, I wrapped my legs “Maybe, I wanna try that one?” Sunghoon smirked, his hands settling under my thighs. “And you could keep practicing. I wouldn’t mind a private encore.”

Her cheeks burned, but she grinned. “Oh? So you were impressed?”

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “Let’s just say… I’m very entertained.”

-

Have you ever tried this one 🙄

@i03jae @juicygirl4life @amourenha @wmyoons @deobitifull @yuyita-rosier @manuosorioh @juleso3o @delswine

[codnasties]

So.. tell me this isn't something that the handsome from König would do?

https://x.com/MurdaLeakss/status/1824470632689467902?t=D-efLQG9rrsiHr6P_bD-Yg&s=19

god babes, always the juiciest vids ♡♡

backshots w/konig 🗡 (🌽 link)

konig, my beloved disgusting pervy boy. he cares so much for you. all he wants is to make sure that you are safe and happy. loved, fed and well fucked when he has to leave for work.

he may be somewhat unexperienced, just a few hookups that did nothing but show how little time he has spent with partners. to rough, to uncaring about the others' release. but with you, he's making sure to go the extra mile, learn every single thing about your body and what you like.

so you best believe that once konig finds the perfect angle while giving you backshots, the one that makes his thick bulbous tip repeatedly hit against your sweet spot, the man's just going to keep abusing it. thrusting at the same speed and deepth that was making you moan loudly.

holding you in place to make sure to not loose that sport - and also memorising the perfect angle to hit it when he fucks you in the future -. large heavy hands roamign your body, trying to retain every centimeter of your body, and playing with your sensitive clit until you came.

wouldn't be surprised if he just wanted to go another round because of how fast he made you cum.

[artemisiasmuse]

princess treatment | rafe x low maintenance gf

cw: fluff, mentions of emotionally abusive family dynamics, slightly suggestive (mentions of sex but no details)

you’d always been treated as some sort of third parent, a therapist, a friend but never what you were: a daughter

that all changed when you started dating rafe

on top of being mistreated by your family, you’d never had a bf who treated you right

the first time rafe brought you flowers you cried, he thought he’d done something wrong but you were so touched you couldn’t say anything as you hugged him tight

he made sure to bring you flowers often, making sure you never ran out. you remember finding a flower from your bouquet in his car, asking him why he had it. “when it wilts i know i gotta get you more.” you’d proceeded to make him pull over.

it was like he was dead set on making you fall even more in love when he said, “as fucking great as that was, i don’t do these things for sex baby, i don’t expect anything okay?” you told him you knew that, which you didn’t actually since all the guys you had been with before seemed to be like that, and proceeded to kiss him some more.

to him treating you like a princess came naturally, he was never good at expressing himself so buying you presents, taking care of you, doing things for you was just second nature

in the beginning he thought it was cute how appreciative you were but when you still got shocked from his actions after months he realized you had just never been treated how you deserve

and that pissess him off

he makes it a point to treat you like an absolute princess, not even letting you open a single door by yourself, you don’t even remember the last time you put your heels on by yourself because he was always crouching down to help you before you could think about it

“rafe if you spoil me so much ill get used to it.” you murmured as you watched your 6’2 gently place your heeled foot on his knee so he could buckle the shoe. his touch was always so gentle, as if he’d hurt you like this.

“that’s kinda the point angel,” he says it without hesitation, brows a bit furrowed as he looks for the best notch that won’t cause you discomfort. you think you might start crying again but you bite the inside of your cheek and kiss him when he stands up

rafe hates how your family treats you, but he holds his tongue because he knows you love them it doesn’t matter to him if your family hates them, he know he should seek their approval but he doesn’t think they deserve to dictate any part of your life

he’s holding back until your mom oversteps her bounds in front of him and he just has to step in, taking over whatever thing she told you to do even though he knew your mother was perfectly capable. he guises it as being a good future son-in-law

“it’s okay rafe-“ you say it without realizing, so used to taking the load off of others.

“you can ask me from now on if you need anything,” he looks pointedly at your mother with a smile you know is fake. you just brush it off and think rafe is just trying to make a good impression. you don’t know he doesn’t give a fuck what your parents think. he even starts hating your sibling.

your brother is older than you but never acts that way. when you mentioned an older brother he expected someone protective of you. he was met with someone doted on by your mother, irresponsible and immature and uncaring of his sister. it seemed like you were the older sibling.

you’d been living with your parents while you both dated, you hadn’t seen anything wrong with it until rafe gets you to move out to live with him. your parents are against it at first but with the help rafe has been they have little reason to refuse him.

when you do move out you realize how much better everything is. you’re not your mother’s caretaker, or your parent’s marriage counselor, or even your brother’s mom. you’re you. and you can finally breathe. rafe doesn’t expect anything from you and it slightly unnerves you, how could he take care of you without expecting anything in return?

he pays for everything, even if you push back at first, he replaces your card in your wallet with his going as far as hiding your card and he knows you have a job and that you can afford it yourself but he doesn’t see why you have to

you’d gotten your nails done and shown them to him and when he didn’t see a charge on his card he pouted for a whole day until you gave in and agreed to use it next time

but rafe knows you’re holding back, he can see that you’re spending frugally. he doesn’t want you to, in fact nothing would make him happier than seeing a dent taken out of his bank account because of his beautiful caring girlfriend

you remember your first date when he got offended that you’d offered to split the bill, he was even more shocked when you thanked him profusely after for paying

when you whine about him taking your card he finally has to speak up, “baby, what’s yours is mine right?” you nod without pause, you loved when rafe drove your car or used your skincare. it felt so intimate and domestic like you were a married couple, the thought bringing heat to your face. “right, so what’s mine is yours.” and you can’t really refute that.

one day when he’s drying your hair after your shower, you can’t help but ask, “why are you so nice to me rafey?”

“i love you, s’that simple”

“i love you too but no one’s ever been this nice to me.”

“no ones ever been as nice to me as you are either, that doesn’t mean it’s wrong right?” he always has a way of making you see his side so effortlessly you have to agree. you could never argue that rafe didn’t deserve the amount of love you gave him or more.

“yeah, thank you for taking care of me”

“‘you gonna thank me for the rest of our lives?” you just stare at him blankly and rafe watches the tears well up in your eyes. “hey don’t cry baby, you can thank me as many times as you want okay? just don’t go thinking you deserve any less than this.”

“i’m never letting you go.”

“i’m counting on it.”

on your anniversary, rafe buys you a car and even though you do thank him profusely and maybe cry a little it doesn’t turn your stomach with anxiety on how to thank him properly or that you don’t deserve it. instead you spend the night loving your boyfriend as much as he loves you. you realize rafe just has a different way of showing it.

a/n: instead of crashing out ab my family i wrote this :)

taglist: @ggraycelynn @clar2aa

[nanamisgirly]

cw smut, cheating, toji is almost 50, reader's in college.

sorry not sorry but toji is a total asshole, fucking with no remorse the tight cunt of his son's girlfriend.

"you little brat, this is what you were waiting for" he says, one rough large palm landing on your lower back, forcing you into a meaner arch.

megumi was out to buy some ice cream for the night. He suggested you stay home since he'd be quick anyway. And who were you to refuse when toji was here too?

"walkin' around all day with those slutty little clothes—" his cock was buried sooo deep inside you, splitting you open, making you feel full. "a short, barely coverin' your pussy" he slams his hips harder, grinning when your ass jiggles. "brushin' against my cock when you passed by—" a sharp spank lands on your cheek, making you gasp. "just admit, you stayed here hopin' i'd fill up that needy slut cunt of yours."

toji might be a grumpy old man pushing 50, but the man was still in condition, built like a goddamn machine. his stamina put boys around your age to shame and his cock as thick and hard as a rock when you were around.

"t-toji," you pleaded "huh, don't talk" he growls, slamming into you mercilessly. one hand pressed your face against the cool kitchen counter, keeping you firmly in place. "wanna hear those loud noises my girl is makin' down here" he grins, pupils dilated at the sight of your soaked cunt. you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you open with every relentless thrust. "bet the little boy doesn't make that pussy as wet as i do," he says, voice thick with arrogance. the slick mess between your thighs dripped down, your walls clenching around his length— milking every inch. "best fuckin' pussy i've ever had, so fuckin' tight" he groaned, making his pace even filthier. you could feel his veiny dick deep in your tummy, it was no joke. toji was ruining your inside, he was so fast— imposing a brutal rhythm. you could barely keep up. the kitchen was filled of wet noises, each obscene squelch only fueling his hunger. "meh, listen to her, think she likes being fucked like a whore."

He pulled out, only his tip remained inside. parted your legs wider. angled his hips. slammed back in. and here he was deeper.

your breath hitched, a helpless, pornographic moan spilling past your lips." it's- aghn, d-daddy, mh," too cock drunk. your mind was blank, his cock reaching spots you didn't even know existed. toji chuckles "daddy, huh?" he mocked, that almost turned him into a beast— his cock only grew impossibly harder inside you.

"daddy's gonna destroy that poor pussy of yours," he says in an guttural voice "take it like a good slut". he slipped out, completely, using his flushed glistening brown tip to slap quickly against your swollen clit. "c'mon, brat. make a mess for me so i can fuck it right back into you." he was dragging his dick back and forth on your slick folds, his fat tip creating friction with your stimulated clit each time.

a sharp cry escaping you as you came, your body doing as he said before you realized it. muscles tensed, thighs quivering at the overwhelming pleasure. but toji gave you no time to recover, the second you hit your peak, he was right back inside, his heavy balls smacking against your swollen lips. "here, let's fuck for real now" toji lets out as his grip tightened on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock, balls drenched in your arousal.

And that's when megumi comes back from the store.

"what the hell are those noises," megumi asks, pushing the door. wet slaps echoing in the hallway. "toji did you put some porn or-" megumi stays still. eyes widened taking in the sight before him.

His girlfriend being fucked out by his dad.

toji doesn't give a fucking damn. doesn't even stop ramming into you. He locks eyes with his child as he picks up the pace, balls deep in you. as if he had all the right, as if he owns you. as if you weren't his son's girlfriend. "tsk, look at that kid," he smirks, amused by the situation. he grabs your hair, forcing you to arch back onto his chest, your breasts bouncing widely as his hips meet yours. "she got a needy hole, i thought i could help" he bites your ear. "her pussy tight's like a damn virgin" he adds. a large hand circling your throat. squeezing.

your vision blurred, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. you weren't even trying to muffle your moans, you couldn't. you were so aroused megumi could see his dad's cock glistening from where he stands, his fists clenching at his side. taking you boyfriend's dad's cock in front of him and having so much pleasure from it— oh that's what you liked. the room was filled of your sounds, shameless, raw, filthy. your walls molded perfectly around the older man's dick. a deep growl coming from toji as he thrusted harder against you. your skins slapping against each other.

"look at that, son" he says in a pant, going in and out so fast it was inhuman. megumi had full view on your bouncing tits and your moist cunt. "pussy's tryin' to suck me in- fuck" toji couldn't stop his pace. his thighs flexing with the effort.

you were a total whimpering mess. megumi could feel his blood rushing to his length. 'why was it so exciting' toji hips rolled, hitting your g-spot perfectly. "oh, d-don't s-stop" and meg' let out a groan at your shaky voice.

"d-daddy, p-please— mghn" your boyfriend flinches at the nick name.

"yeahh, that's right slut, show the kid how needy you are of my cock" and you skirted. you didn't even realized how you did, your mind was spinning, searching for your breath through toji's chock.

"oh, saw that? she's gettin' messier" toji smirks, proud of himself. he was just too good. his mouth goes to your ear and he says loud enough for his son to hear through your noisy moans and slick, indecent pussy's noises "maybe I should let megumi cleans the mess when I'm done splitting you open, huh?" and that's when you finally, finally, lifted your eyes only to be met with a flustered gumi.

and a boner picking through his pant.

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