#cause he can rap for sure

[marnerlue]

[ladycaramelswirl]

Tease

Aaron Hotchner x girlfriend reader

Summary: Hotch is a workaholic and you’re just… helping everyone out (mouth fucking him senseless). Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: reader is kinda bratty 🤭 Hotch is canonically a giggly kisser and weak to teasing, sooo… I did what I had to do. Idc. Porn no plot. warnings/tags: adult content, mdni. Sex in public? Don’t do this at your workplace guys. No use of y/n. Praise kink if you squint.

enjoy 🤍

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You wait until everyone’s distracted to slip into Hotch’s office and close the door behind you. He smiles at your presence.

“Hello”, he says softly. 

You walk over to seat yourself in his lap and he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. 

“Want to do something fun?”, you tease, playing with his tie. He looks at you apologetically.

“Honey, I have so much work to do”.

Lying workaholic. He needs a break and you both know it. You give him a playful shove.

“No you don’t. You’ve already finished everything for today. Let’s go home”, you insist. He rubs his thumb against your hips. 

“I know, but I want to get this extra stuff done today”, he says, taking your hand off of his tie to kiss it. 

You take the other hand and palm him through his trousers and he groans. You grin, sliding in closer and grinding against him. He doesn’t do much to stop you, losing himself in the movement of your ass on his cock.

“L-look”, he stammers, his breath hitching in pleasure. “Maybe later we can-“

He stops talking as you unbutton your blouse to reveal your breasts, held in place by lacy black lingerie. He groans into your neck and you grin, feeling his cock swell under your hips. You lean in to put your lips to his ear.

“Want to see the matching underwear?”

His eyes immediately darken in interest, and he practically picks you up and places you on his desk. Giggling, you unbuckle his belt. 

He smiles as he leaves soft kisses down your neck.

“You’re so perfect”, he murmurs into your skin.

It almost makes you feel bad to push his face away start buttoning your shirt back up. He frowns.

“What are you doing?”

You smile at him not-so innocently.

“I thought you had to work?”

He smirks. 

“If you don’t take off your skirt right now-“

A rap on the door makes you both freeze.

“Agent Hotchner? It’s Anderson. May I come in?”, a shaking voice asks.

You look down at your half open shirt and his unzipped trousers. Shit.

You push Hotch into his chair and crawl under his desk. You hadn’t exactly told anyone you’re dating yet and this is not how you want them to find out. So somehow you find yourself on your knees in front of Aaron’s cock, with an agent only 10 feet away. 

Hotch straightens his tie and you settle into a slightly more comfortable position. The precum from when you were grinding on him earlier glistens in front of you. You feel yourself throb at thought of it in your mouth.

“Yes, come in”, Hotch calls out. 

You pull his chair closer into the desk. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help but run your tongue up from the base to his tip, lightly sucking the head. Hotch takes a sharp inhale, barely stifling his gasp. You grin as you slowly lower your mouth onto his cock and see him grab onto his desk for dear life. This was what he gets for refusing to go home on time. 

Anderson walks in, his anxious hands fiddling with a file.

“Sir?”, he asks. “I was wondering…” 

You hear him shuffle his feet on the carpeted floor. Hotch furrowing his brows in a desperate attempt at a poker face was probably not helping the poor agent’s nervousness. Hotch runs a hand soothingly along the top of your head, trying to signal to you to slow down. It only makes you hollow your cheeks and squeeze the underside of his cock with your tongue, causing his stomach to flex in restraint. The young agent is still stammering.

“Spit it out Anderson”, Hotch grits through his teeth. 

From his angle, he can see the way your lips look on his cock and your breasts peeking out from your barely-there bra. 

You make sure to catch his eye before taking him all the way all the way to the hilt. It makes your eyes water a little, but the way he has to literally close his eyes to take a deep breath makes it totally worth it.

“I was wondering if I could go home early today?”, Anderson asks. “I know that I’m-“

“Yes. Sure, just go”, Hotch says breathlessly. But your movement makes him frown in an attempt to stifle a moan, which gives Anderson the wrong impression. 

“Sir I know that it’s last minute and I should have asked earlier, but I just want to say-“

You use your hands to move with your head up and down his shaft which causes Hotch’s hips to buckle up slightly. 

“Anderson”, he hisses. “Go. Home. Now.”

The poor agent scurries away, barely remembering to close the door. 

Now without the threat of someone overhearing you, Hotch whimpers, which only makes you move faster. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he whispers breathlessly.

He’s desperate to not make any sounds but he can’t help but let out a soft moan. You feel his cock twitch.

“Sweetheart I’m- fuck- I’m going to come-“, he splutters. “God, you’re so-“

You cup his balls and fuck him so good he sees stars, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum explodes in your mouth. He’s gripping his chair so tight to keep himself from shouting out your name. 

When you’re certain he’s come down from his high, you release him. He brushes your hair away from your face and pulls you up into his lap.

“I can’t believe you just did that”, he whispers.

“You liked it”, you smirk, giving him a kiss. He smiles, but doesn’t deny it as he kisses you back.

“I’m going to get you back for it someday”, he grins. 

You raise an eyebrow. He is going down.

“You still haven’t seen my underwear”, you tease. Hotch immediately perks up.

“I’m calling it an early day today! Everyone go home!”, he yells through his closed door. Outside Hotch’s office, everyone looks at each other, confused. They can’t tell if he’s joking and no one moves to get up.

You, however, get up from his lap, seating yourself on his table and bringing your hands under your skirt, slowly peeling off your now soaked underwear. In the process, Hotch catches a glimpse of your glistening cunt.

“If you don’t go home now I’m making you do 2 hours of extra paperwork!”, Hotch barks.

You giggle as you hear everyone frantically packing up their things. 

Hotch watches as you drop your underwear to the floor, followed by your shirt. 

“You’re going to be the death of me”, he whispers. 

“Lock the door”, you tell him. 

He looks at you with a glint in his eye, and you know you’re about to get exactly what you deserve for being so naughty.

It’s really only fair that he makes you come so many times he has to carry you to his car.

————————

masterlist

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[rainrot4me]

Forgive, But Don’t Forget Me

Summary: Katsuki takes you home from a UA class reunion party where you had one too many drinks. You get a little handsy, and Katsuki has to figure out how to deal with you and his emotions.

Characters: Pro Katsuki Bakugo x Pro Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Drunk fucking, inappropriate touching, repressed emotions, eating out, fingering, vaginal, fucking your ex, reconciliation, scratching, sappy, dry humping, clothed fucking

Words: 3.6k

A/N: This story is HEAVILY inspired by @/duskumes' comic on twitter! Go check it out!

Katsuki’s patience had run out hours ago. 

He knew it wasn’t his fault that you drank no less than twelve shots of straight vodka, but in the end, he was the one wrapping your arm around his shoulders as he walked you to his car. You were a babbling mess, barely able to thank him as he buckled you into the passenger seat, leaning over your body to lock the buckle in. 

It was no secret the two of you had dated back at UA, but that was years ago. But somehow, everyone at the UA class reunion party thought he was the most fit to take care of you. Your flirty little hands grabbed at him all through the party, making snarky little comments about his muscles and dick size until he couldn’t take it anymore and shuffled you out the door. He was quick on the goodbyes to his friends, too preoccupied with swatting your hand away from groping him. As Katsuki slid into the driver's seat of his sports car, you leaned on the console, fluttering your pretty eyes at him. “So, do I get to suck your dick now?” Katsuki’s eyes shot wide, taken aback by your brass statement, alcohol swaying your words to an uncomfortable point. “No,” He huffed, bucking his own seatbelt and starting the car. “Hands to yourself.” You huffed, crossing your arms dramatically as you pouted your lips. Katsuki rolled his eyes, shifting into drive as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. His radio mumbled some rap music, keeping the music low so as not to overstimulate your already dizzy head and leading to you puking all over his car. 

“It’s soooo hot.” You groaned, leaning into the seat. Katsuki glanced at you, rolling his eyes as he flipped the A/C up, letting the cold air blast onto you. You huffed, spreading your legs wide and causing your short dress to ride up your thighs, your panties peeking out just enough for Katsuki to quickly avert his gaze, gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel tighter. This was incredibly frustrating. You watched as the bright street lights zoomed past the window, the freeway mostly empty as it was so late into the night. Your eyes sparkled, looking over to Katsuki and grinning smugly. “Y’know, I’m real good at road head.” You giggled, sliding your hand over to rub his thigh only for it to be smacked away. “I’m well aware.” He grunted, leaning his elbow against the door and his head into his hand. The truth is he was more than aware. He remembered your days sneaking into each other’s dorm rooms like it was yesterday, recalling every time you sunk to your knees any time he asked. He groaned, rubbing his temple as he sped up.

“That party was soo boring, wasn’t it Kat?” You smiled, leaning onto the console and resting your head in your hand. Katsuki turned to look at you, his eyes rolling as he huffed a laugh. “Sure was, until you outdrank everyone there.” You giggled, laying your head on the console. “Not true… Pretty sure Mina had one more than me.” Katsuki adjusted his position, awkwardly laying his hand on your back as you lay on the console. “Difference is she can hold her alcohol.” He chuckled, turning his blinker on and pulling off to a side road leading to your apartment. You giggled. “I can hold your dick.” You ran your hand to his crotch, palming his slacks before he grabbed your wrist tightly and threw it back to your side. “God. I’ve never met anyone who gets this horny drunk.” You sat up, leaning into your seat. “Just horny for you and your big cock.” Katsuki stared at you, knotting his brows before turning back to the road. “Shut it.”

He pulled down your drive, the condos and high-rise apartments of the city shining brightly from the street. Katsuki pulled into the parking garage adjacent to your building, sliding into a spot and shutting the car off. You fiddled with your seatbelt, Katsuki leaning over and clicking the button. He jolted back, your hands pressing onto his chest as you quickly invaded his personal space and pressed your face way too close to his. “Nobody here but us… Let me suck you off…” You hummed, running your hand down his stomach but getting cut off as he gripped your wrist tightly. “You’re drunk. Hell no.” He scoffed, pushing you back into your seat as he unbuckled himself and popped out of the car. Circling to your side, he hauled you out, wrapping his arm around your waist as you nuzzled close to his muscled torso, rubbing your hands over his stomach and feeling his abs through the button-up shirt. Katsuki tried his best to ignore you. Hauled into the elevator, he pressed your floor number, a little shocked he still remembered which one.

Your head rested on his chest, your whole body weight being held up by his arms. It had been so long since he held you like this since he had done anything with you. It was so nice, his cologne filling your nose and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Your mind was dizzy, thoughts unorganized as all you could focus on was the man holding you, your former lover in your arms again. Katsuki enjoyed the quiet as you rode up the floors, gripping your side tightly to make sure your knees didn’t buckle under you. Seeing you like this was hard. Seeing you at all was hard. This was the first time Katsuki had even spoken to you in months, your relationship dying shortly after you both graduated from UA to ‘focus on hero work.’ The work kept you both preoccupied, sure, but seeing you after all this time felt like he had never left in the first place. You were still you.

As the elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Katsuki hoisted you out into the carpeted hallway. He found your room, typing in the little access code he forgot he even knew and shuffling inside. It smelled like how he remembered it. Citrus and vanilla, your scent. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, kneeling to help you slide your heels off. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, stabilizing yourself as he worked on the overlapping straps. “You look so good down there…” You giggled, running your hand through his spiked hair. He groaned, standing to take his shoes off before leading you to your bedroom. 

He pushed open the door, flipping the lights on as he helped you onto your bed. “Get changed. I’m going to grab you some medicine.” He commanded, sliding his suit jacket off and tossing it on the accent chair decorating the space. You smirked, pulling at the bottom of your dress and slowly slipping it off. Katsuki’s face blew red quickly, spinning on his heels and stepping out of the room quickly. “Oh come on Kat! Don’t wanna help me undress?” You called down the hall, teasing him. Rolling his eyes, he stepped into your bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, shuffling through the random painkillers and allergy meds until he found a bottle of morning-after pills and shook a few into his hand. He shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. As he turned, he finally saw just how messy your space was. 

To-go bags littered the living room, unclean dishes were piled in the sink, and random clothes were half-folded on your couch. Katsuki cringed, wondering how a person as organized and upkeep as yourself managed to not only get yourself wasted but let your apartment run to crap too. He stepped back into your room, relieved to see you were in an oversized shirt and not completely naked. You lay on your bed, eyes half closed as Katsuki sat next to you. “Take these. It’s to help your nausea.” He instructed, opening the water bottle for you and handing it to you as you swallowed the pills. You smiled at him, your goofy grin making him chuckle. He patted you on the knee, going to stand and leave before you gripped his arm. “What? All that and you still won’t fuck me?” You slurred, rising to your knees and wrapping your arms around his. Shaking you off, he stood at the end of your bed, watching as you pouted your lips dramatically. “You’re drunk. Goodnight [Y/N].” As he turned, you jumped down from the bed, barely connecting your steps as you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him to stop. 

Laying your forehead in the center of his back, you breathed in that smell one more time, the flush on your cheeks burning wonderfully. “I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” You mumbled all too fast, Katsuki glancing behind him to confirm if he heard you correctly. He gripped your arm, pulling you in front of him to face your beat-red face as you stared at him. “Nobody.” You urged, standing as still as you could as Katsuki’s hands gripped either arm tightly. You shook out of his grasp, stepping back to sit at the end of your bed before your dizziness became too much. “Kinda ruined all other dicks for me anyways,” you laughed awkwardly. 

Katsuki stood silent, staring at your face as he puzzled his words together carefully. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as he felt defeated by your pitiful face. “It’s not like I’ve had time for anyone else either.” He groaned, staring at the floor. 

The air turned awkward. Both of you stared anywhere but at each other as you could feel your buzz slowly fading, a headache replacing it. “I’ve only ever been with you, Kat.” You admitted quietly, looking him directly in his fiery eyes as you fiddled with your fingers. “No one else really does it for me like you.”

Katsuki sighed, shuffling over to sit down next to you, silently cursing to himself. Truth was, Katsuki only ever thought about you after the breakup. It wasn’t like he wanted to end things, but he felt he needed to prioritize his career before all else after school. He looked for other partners, going on a date here or there, but no one ever matched the energy you brought him. Even years later, no one still did. “It’s never been anyone but you.” He sighed, glancing at you as your eyes sparkled so beautifully. Slinking your hand to his thigh, you gripped reassuringly. This time he didn’t push you away. You dared, leaning forward, just inches away from his face. 

“[Y/N].” He breathed, staring at your lips. 

“Katuski.” You returned, staring into his eyes.

He closed the space first, quickly wrapping his hand behind your head and pressing your lips together. It made you moan the way his lips danced so perfectly with yours, every tug and tightening grip rushing your memories back to you. Oh, how you missed this. You swung your leg over his lap, straddling him as you tangled your hands in his hair. But his hands were quick to pull you closer to him, cupping under your ass and pulling you flush against him. His moans were lethal, small grunts and gasps while he squeezed your legs and devoured you with his lips. You could feel his bulge grow under you, smirking into the kiss as you subtly pushed your hips down harder, a long groan falling from his lips. It didn’t take much before his hands were gripping your hips, forcefully grinding your cunt against his erection. Grunts and sighs mixed between both of you as Katsuki slipped his tongue into your mouth. The friction was heavenly, your panties and his slacks the only separation from him pressing into you, which he very badly wished to do.

Before you knew it he flipped you over, towering over you as he pressed your legs back, marveling at the wet spot that tinted your panties. He flicked his thumb over the area, your thighs clenching when he brushed your clit. Unbuttoning his shirt, he peeled it off his torso, his thick arm muscles leaving you a red mess under him. Chuckling, he sunk back over you, latching his lips to your neck as he unzipped his slacks and shoved them down his muscular legs and to the floor. His dark boxers did a horrible job at hiding his large erection, the bulge finding its way to your clothed cunt and grinding up onto you. You choked out a gasp, Katsuki’s hips rhythmically thrusting against yours as he ground against you, practically fucking you. It sent you spiraling, your clit throbbing under the pressure while he nibbled on your ear, grunting ever so slightly. It was so erotic. “Kat… fuck-” You gasped, his pace increasing as he cupped his hands under your knees and pressed them back, giving him a better angle to rut against your clit.

You were going to cum and he hadn’t even taken off your panties yet. You felt the knot tighten, eyes rolling as Katsuki’s bulge pressed down on you and abused your swollen clit. He nudged his head into the crook of your neck, moaning through gritted teeth. You whined loudly, pleasure crashing through you as you released into your panties, Katsuki’s thrusts slowing to grind deeper and harder and ride you through your orgasm. You hadn’t come on someone else’s touch in so long, but as you caught your breath, you knew you couldn’t stop at just one. 

Katsuki peppered kisses onto your cheeks and whispered about how good you did, holding his hips still but flush against your cunt as the damp spot slowly grew. Kissing his lips, you smiled, wiping his bangs away from his sweat-glistened face. “Can I suck your dick now?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. It was so barely noticeable, but the gasp that left his lips made your body shoot to life. Katsuki leaned back, slinking his rough hands up your thighs and fiddling with the lacey hem of your panties, his cock very obviously twitching impatiently in his boxers. He finally locked eyes with you, your red cheeks and puffy lips sending a shiver up his spine. “Only if you let me eat you out.”

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you sat up, letting Katsuki slip under your hips and lay face-to-face with your clothed cunt. It was beyond embarrassing, it was plain filthy. Deciding not to psyche yourself out about it, you leaned forward, slipping your fingers under the band of his boxers and sliding them down, gasping when his large erection sprung up in front of your face. Katsuki gasped behind you, hands gripping your hips tightly as he moved your panties to the side. It was a sight he missed way too much, brows knitting as he strained his neck to lick a stripe up your folds. Heavenly was the only word for it, little mewls and gasps echoing each other’s lips as you licked a stripe up the length of his cock. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol still messing with your brain, but every swipe of Katsuki’s sinful tongue on your clit made your entire body electrify. However, Katsuki grew impatient of straining his neck to reach your delicious cunt and gripped your hips tightly, slamming them down against his face as he slinked his tongue into your entrance. 

Your back arched, hips grinding to meet the pace of his tongue curling into you. You hadn’t realized you were leaving Katsuki’s cock unattended till it was twitching in your hand, begging to be touched. You pressed the head into your mouth, bobbing shallowly as you moaned on his tip, way too preoccupied with his tongue inside of you. It was like he was hypnotizing you, every arch of his tongue making your back arch the same. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking more and more of his length into your mouth until you were choking. You bobbed your head, sucking what you could and jerking off what you couldn’t. You missed the feeling of Katsuki in your mouth, relishing the sweet taste of his precum as it rubbed against your tongue. He was grunting into your cunt, nails digging into your hips as he forcefully ground your hips against his tongue. 

The tell-tale signs Katsuki was about to come were showing themselves, the high-pitched grunts and the bucking hips speeding up his tip at the edge. You could feel his hands tightening, his moans growing louder as he refused to let off of your cunt, choosing to suffocate rather than miss out on one second of your sweet taste. You accommodated, pressing your hips down and bobbing deeper on his length until you choked, and even then holding there a little longer. Katuski whined, bucking his hips up one final time before he spilt into your mouth, the warm seed shooting down your throat and coating your tongue with a sweet taste. He was a moaning mess against your cunt, only letting off to breathe when you forced your hips up. 

“Get over here, fuck-” He growled, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back before he climbed on top of you. His face was flushed, sweat glistening as his bangs stuck to his forehead. You thought he looked cute, but your sweet thoughts were interrupted as Katsuki lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit before ever so slowly sinking the tip in. He was careful to gauge your reactions, stopping when you hissed and pushing when you moaned. He was precise about it all, gritting his teeth as your warmth squeezed him perfectly. “This pussy belongs to me, got it?” He growled as he bottomed out, your groans music to his ears. “Got it?” He urged again, gripping your jaw tightly as he began to slowly thrust into you, your walls constricting him so perfectly. You nodded quickly, arms wrapping around his neck as he drove into you, pace quickening. He released your jaw, gripping the sheets under you to stabilize himself so he could snap his hips to meet yours. 

Moans and gasps echoed, each thrust sending you jerking against the bed before you were sinking back onto his cock. “You take me so good… Don’t know how I ever left this pussy…” He groaned, gritting his teeth as he stared into your heavy eyes. He scooped his hands under your knees, pressing them back roughly as he plowed into you. The angle left you gasping, his cock reaching impossibly deep as connected your lips to his, muffling your loud moans. 

The bed creaked loudly, the headboard softly knocking the wall as it matched Katsuki’s thrusts, each slap of your skin echoing loudly. “Kat- Ahh..” You moaned, arching your back and whining at the angle, each thrust sending Katsuki’s cock ramming against your g-spot. It didn’t take long before you were wrapping your arms around his back and clawing deeply, each rapid-fire thrust making your nails sink. Katsuki was relishing in it, the sweet pain mixing with the tight heat around his cock. God, how he missed you. He didn’t know who he had to thank for bringing you back to him, but thank you.

He pressed your knees back further, leaning in to wrap his lips with yours as he felt his release building. Your pleasure rising as well. With a few final thrusts, you were cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing incredibly tight as you moaned into his mouth. Katsuki could barely thrust into you anymore, his hips bucking roughly as he groaned against your tightness. That was all it took before he pulled out of you quickly, thrusting into his hand and releasing all over your stomach. He moaned, slack-jawed as he caught his breath. 

Your lips were still pressing kisses to his cheek as your fucked out expression met his. He grinned at you, his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy as he slowly lifted off of you. He lifted off the bed, shuffling to the bathroom and grabbing a towel before coming back to clean you off gently. You smiled at him, blushing as you watched him so carefully take care of you. You missed this. You missed him.

He leaned over, flicking the lamp off and pulling the sheets of your bed down, lifting your body with ease to place you on the pillow. Nervousness pinged you as you feared he’d leave the bed and tell you goodbye. But as he pulled your body flush against his and pulled the covers over both of you, you sighed with relief. 

You faced each other, bodies flush as you gazed into the other’s eyes. Katsuki kissed your forehead, brushing your hair behind your ear as he wrapped his arms around your body. “Forgive me.” He whispered, peppering more kisses onto your face. “For?” You whispered back, brushing your fingers up and down his chest. He sighed, tucking your head under his chin and holding you as close as he could. “For ever taking you for granted.”

You kissed his neck before nuzzling into him, breathing in his scent deeply as you could feel yourself drifting. “Apology accepted.” You mumbled against his skin, eyes fluttering shut. Katsuki smiled, kissing your head before shutting his own eyes, relishing in your embrace for the first time in a long time.

He promised to never let you go again.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[ew-selfish-art]

DPx DC AU: Danny learns that he can change his summoning ritual and decides to go chaos mode with it i.e. A viral tiktok trend.

Danny ascends the throne and it's honestly pretty alright as far as new jobs go. He states a few opinions, makes sure no one goes to war and is slowly integrating a community service sentence to Walker's prison. It's not a bad gig, and considering the troves of gold he's now owner of, it doesn't pay too shabby either.

His main problem with the job isn't even his constituents (he likes to think they would vote for him over pariah), it's all these loony death cults! They keep summoning him with Pariah's old cold sign and it's driving him insane- After a very unhelpful smirk by CW, a long study session in GW's library and some help from Ember (she knows drama like no one else) Danny finally has a new summoning ritual.

Of course he swapped out the blood and bone for like, sour gummies and random shit he had in his backpack at the time. A TI-84. And yes, the Latin chant is that one super-fast bit of Rap God preformed to a BTS dance at speed.

But rather than keep this to himself, he gets Sam (who has a thriving plant and protest community following) to record her completing this ritual and Danny being summoned. Why? Cause it was a very specific to Sam skill that they didn't know if people could replicate and it gives Danny some plausible deniability that he tried to make it difficult when CW asks.

Posting it makes it very quickly go viral as people attempt to call it fraudulent but sure enough, Danny is now traveling the world at a moments notice.

Which is great cause it's summer and he's bored in Amity anyway (He's going to change it before he starts university in September, duh), and its even better because the second a lame ass death cult brings him forward to, like, destroy the planet, a slumber party or influencer has already summoned him away. Shit, he even met a few celebrities this way! Plus, turns out that most death cultists aren't able to rap!

Reality hit him pretty hard when he got summoned to an office space that is clearly a base of operations and the summoning spell locked him in. Literally, he has no idea how to get out of this binding spell- Danny definitely hadn't realized that was an option. Taking in the Justice League members in front of him, plus one trench coated menace, Danny groaned for a moment before thinking to ask:

"Wait- Which one of you was able to do Rap God? And the dance? Please tell me someone thought to film that!!"

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[orimuraa]

໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺ Don’t you want me like I want you baby? - OT7

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆roommate enha when you have a crush on their friend ⨾

۶ৎ ot7 roommate!enha x fem!reader ┆fluff, crack┆jealous enha, reader is a bit of a tease,┆ wc 904

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: jiji active moment frfr!! thank you to the anon that requested this and i hope it’s to your liking! please reblog and share some feedback! i really appreciate it <33

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

“hey hee? do you mind maybe introducing me to sunghoon? i think he’s pretty cute,” you smile, trying to contain the smirk on your face. you knew heeseung had a crush on you and to be honest, you did too. but you couldn’t help but also find his best friend quite attractive as well. “what? hoon? really?? i mean- you could just to wayyy better than him..” heeseung rambles, his ears noticeably getting reader. “yeah? like who?” you challenge, your face moving closer to his with a sudden confidence that came from nowhere. “hmm…me.” he smirked, his confidence also coming out of nowhere. “forget sunghoon, go out with me instead,” he whispered, his eyes clouded with jealousy. who knew your roommate was so hot when he was jealous?

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆��𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

“jay? you okay? you’ve been glaring at jake for so long….” you asked, concerned for why your roommate was drilling holes into jake’s head. “he’s been getting on my nerves lately,” was all jay uttered. you knew it was because he was jealous of jake and all the attention you had been giving him this past week. everyone knew jay had a crush on you—it was just so obvious. “yeah? don’t worry, you’re the only pretty boy i have my eyes on,” you smirk before walking off, letting your comment sink in with jay. “hey wait what??”

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

“jakey!! heyy, so do you mind if i invite riki over? i’ve been wanting to hang out with him lately and i just wanted to check it with you that it would be okay,” you ask your roommate, jake. “riki? my son??? oh no no no no! absolutely not! i will not lose to my son!” he argue, making an ‘x’ with his arms. “w-what? why not? what do you mean lose to your son?” you were so confused. “i can’t let riki steal you from me!! no! so the answer is no, he cannot come over! why do you need him when you have me?” jake whined, a pout forming on his lips. “fine fine fine,” you sigh. “all i need is you.”

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

“hey hoon? do you know if heeseung is single?” you ask one afternoon, catching sunghoon completely off guard and causing him to choke on his drink and start coughing manically. you rush over to help your roommate not die, slapping him on the back. “sorry- i- that just caught me off guard..” he coughs, clearing his throat. “umm, why dk you ask?” he asks suspiciously. “ohh well..i..he’s just..pretty cute and i know you’re close with him, but it’s okay if he’s not! i understand,” you practically rap out. “hey hey hey slow down. he is single but i don’t know if i’m willing to share you,” he frowns. “i’m so selfish i want you all to myself.”

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

you and sunoo have been roommates forever and sunoo started to grow feelings for you and with that came him becoming very protective of you. so when you started gushing about jungwon, he couldn't help but feel jealous. the tipping point for him was when he came home to find you and jungwon doing face masks together. that was his and your thing not you and jungwon's thing! "hi sun!! wanna join? wonnie has to head home soon so we can have a spa night!" you smile, your nose scrunching ever so slightly as you talked. "oh uhhh sure! i'll join you in a bit," he said, nervously glancing from you to jungwon. once jungwon had left and it was just you and sunoo cuddling up on the couch, sunoo couldn't help but pout at the thought of being replaced by his best friend. "you're mine," he huffed. "not jungwon's." he just had to clarify.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

"hey wonnie? do you know if jay is single? he's pretty cu-" "no. jay hyung is off limits. you're off limits to everyone but me," he said, his eyes brows furrowing together as a small pout formed on his lips. that caught you really off-guard. jungwon was always protective of you but never like this. "what? why?" you whine, matching his pouty lips. "because! you're mine! got it? m i n e!" he pouted. that's when it hit you. jungwon was jealous. "wonnie?..are you jealous?.." you ask, a smile appearing on your face. with a huff, he quickly looks away out of embarrassment. "no...i just- it- jay hyu-" he stutters, purposely avoiding your eyes. "it's okay wonnie, i was just joking. i only want you." oh he was so red by now.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

riki was not one to admit his feelings, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of hatred at that moment when he saw you and sunoo playing around in the kitchen. "oh hi ki! sorry, i forgot to tell you that sun was coming over to bake with me," you smiled sympathetically. "it's fine," he grumbled before shutting himself in his room. once sunoo had left, you went to go talk to riki as he seemed off when he got home. "hey ki? you alright? you seemed off when you came home," you asked, joining him on his bed. he was quick to pull you close to him, an arm wrapped around you tightly. "you're not his, you're mine. i'm selfish and want you all to myself," he whispered into your neck. ahh so he was jealous. a small smile tugs at your lips. "don't worry ki, i'm allll yours."

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[girliism]

more of art with his mean femdom fuck buddy cause why not.

it’s been a week since you heard from art, which is weird because he’s usually blowing up your phone the second he wakes up. now, you would never be caught dead chasing down a man but this was art, your art. and though you’d never admit it because you and him were nothing more than fuck buddies, there was a part of you that was actually worried about him.

you rapped your knuckles against his door. art opening the door in his his striped boxes and a plain t-shirt. “what are you doing here?” art was shocked to see you, you didn’t bother answering him just pushed your way into his dorm.

“you’ve been super m.i.a recently, just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.” you took in the state of his room, his bed wasn’t made and there was papers and books scattered around his desk. “o-oh, sorry about that i’ve been busy studying for my test.” he scratched the back of head looking down.

studying. you knew art wasn’t much of a scholar and by the state of him preparing for this test was taking a toll on him. you stalked towards him, running your hands up his chest to rest on him cheeks looking him in the eye. “you’ve been working so hard haven’t you?” art pouted, nodding his head. his eyes were getting glassy as he started to slip so easily into subspace. you ran your hands through his soft curls.

you pushed art to sit down in his desk chair then climbed onto him, settling down in his lap.

“i really don’t like it when you ignore me.” art takes a deep breath, fingers lightly squeezed at your thighs. “i didn’t mean too. i-i just am failing this class and i really needed to study, i’m sorry.” he whispered the last part. you trucked his hair behind his ear sighing. “failing? art, i know you’re not the brightest but failing.”

you were disappointed and art could hear it in your voice. it was making him horny, you were practically calling him stupid and his dick was hard.

you tsked, shaking your head. “you’re so useless. failing classes i could pass in my sleep.” you look him straight in the eye. “what are you even good for?” you asked in mocking pout. art shook his head, his pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. “whatever you want. i-i can be good and-and i’ll stop failing. i just wanna be inside you right now. please.” your uninterested eyes bore into his pleading one’s.

you got off arts lap, his eyes following your movement. “need to get your dick wet in order of your brain to work?” you stood over him with your hands on your hips. art gave you a pathetic little nod before you motioned for him to get on the bed.

art layed out on the bed waiting for you to do something. you crept your hands up his strong thighs, yanking his underwear off and his cock sprung free. you didn’t touch it even though it was practically begging you too. his shirt was taken off next leaving him bare underneath you.

you stripped yourself of your clothes and situated your body on top of art’s. his hands instinctively flew to grab at your waist. you swatted his hands away “dumb boys don’t touch.”

“s-sorry.”

you grind your cunt over art’s cock before gripping it and sinking down on it. “fuck.” you let your head drop back as you embraced the stretch of your walls. art dug his nails into the palm of his hand. it was taking everything in him not to touch you when you started to slowly bounce on him. art was whimpering and whining, tears were starting to to prick in art’s eyes. the way you were squeezing him tight making his cock all warm and wet, the feeling of your fingers pinching at his nipples before slipping into his mouth pressing down on his tongue. it was getting to be all too much.

“i’m so-so close, please please can i cum.” his words were slightly muffled around you fingers.

“of course you can.” your voice was so sweet, art let out a moan as if he were about to cum right then and there before you spoke again. “but only after you take a practice test and score no lower than a b minus.” it was an ambiguous task for art but him ditching you to study all week should pay off right.

“what?! no, please! i can’t hold it. need to cum.” art sat up taking hold of your hips. you hand rested now on his neck as you pushed him to lay back down. “if you cum right now art i swear i’ll all your little tennis buddies what real slut you are.” art’s face flushed making him redder than he already was.

he could see it now, walking onto the courts for practice only to see the guys huddled together staring at the all the pictures and videos of him that you sent out. the humiliation alone would kill him.

you could feel art’s cock twitch inside you at the threat. “i thought you wanted to be good.” art had thick tears sitting on his lash line. “i do. i wanna be good, but you just-you feel so good. best pussy, my favorite.” he buried his face in your chest and you let him. “but i’ll wait.” you smiled, rocking your hips again chasing your own high.

you moaned directly in his ear, and your fingers pulled lightly at his hair. “you’re such a good boy art. so good for me.” you were getting closer and art placed his thumb on your clit rubbing it. “th-thank you.” art gave your neck messy kisses and you came on his cock with a harsh pull of his hair and a loud gasp.

you let art sit inside you for a bit before having him do the test you mentioned earlier. he ended up doing better than you both excepted and was rewarded accordingly.

“art. you know if you ever need help with your work and stuff you can ask me.” you broke the calm silence. art raised his head from where it was resting in the crook of your neck. “i’ll remember that, thank you.”

[uofcosmos]

mark bf hcs

sfw

- type to say "babe this one's for you" and miss

- says dude but romantically

- thinks you're his best friend, his gf, his bbg, his everything

- makes you pinky promise him and takes that shit to heart

- thinks you're the funniest person alive

- is always touching you in some form, especially in front of other people

- the type to embarrass you in public and think it's really funny

- sends you every tiktok he sees that he thinks you would even vaguely like

- main form of physical affection: his arm around your shoulder with his arm hanging off of your shoulder and he expects you to hold his hand

- extremely clingy when he's drunk (canonically a lightweight) and if he's out without you he's texting you the entire night

- if you leave the room to get something rq, he just stares at the door until you come back

- biggest yes-man in the world

- if you asked for his opinion on choosing between outfits he would be so stressed cause "babe you look too good in both of them :/"

- if you showed him your eyelash curler and fake lashes he would physically flinch and be so so concerned

- asks you to use them on him so he can experience "the same pain"

- matching social media pfps

- you would catch him thanking god that you're his girl

- likes writing music with you in his lap (says he needs his muse with him all the time)

- starts fantasizing about a future with you on the second date

- go to cuddling: he's on his back and you're on your side using his arm as a pillow

- but he moves around too much in his sleep so you never wake up like that

- HES the rapper gf 

- spontaneously starts beatboxing and rapping about how hot you are and sometimes goes “dude wait… this one’s kinda good i need to write this one down”

- backhugs all the time and cages his arms around you esp when you’re talking to someone else so that he can get your attention 

- paints your nails for you with the utmost concentration (his tongues sticking out and everything) but it’s still messy asf 

- gets flustered when you make sex jokes

nsfw under the cut !! mdni

- also backhugs and starts kissing your neck when he’s horny (it’s his signature move)

- has a sex playlist that consists of solely the weeknd and chase atlantic and plays it religiously when you're fucking

- pleasure dom - gets off on how well you're getting off

- esp the first few times he'd be super stressed about how good he is at giving you head

- when you try to give head the first time he panics and keeps saying you don't have to and asking if you're sure

- finishes in 25 seconds cause he says you just feel too good

- tries to dirty talk once but he starts mumbling it and gives up (never does it again)

- he has such a tiny waist, he's super into it when you grab his waist or back when he's on top of you

- loves it when you put his arms around his neck

- he's really into putting you in odd positions, loves it when your legs are around his waist/shoulders

- mating press

- whiner over groaner

- really into riding, especially when he doesn't have to do too much of the work (he's a busy guy)

- if you came out of the shower and dropped your towel in front of him to walk to the bedroom he's tripping over himself to follow you

- very obvious afterglow, everyone can tell when he's just fucked

- makes really distinct faces when he's fucking

- would try to convince you to let him record your moans to use in the back of his songs (he's half-joking)

- trails kisses down you and is super into eye contact when he does it too

- always needs to see your face when you're fucking

- starts begging way too early when you even think about edging him

- loves when there’s visible scratches on his back so that it’s just a little secret between the two of you 

- every time he tries to edge you and you start whining or getting a little upset he gives in super easily cause he just loves you too much 

- carries you to the shower to clean the both of you off but he never tries anything in there, it's only about you

[sturnlsstuff]

RAPPER!CHRIS MAKES SURE YOU LIKE HIS NEW SONG.

[smut, blowjob, dirty talk, mdni]

you loved every song chris would make. it's not glazing, none of these things, but you actually thought he was so talented and so did his fans. he had a lot of hits on his account, the fans loving what chris was doing because it was clear to see how he was putting his whole heart into his songs. you'd actually think it was cute, how genuinely happy he seemed in the studio and he was even happier any time you would be there, while he was working on some new song. your opinion was so important for him too, even if he'd never admit that out loud, but the way you would compliment him or every time he dropped a new song, you'd post it on your instagram story, it made him so proud, his ego was growing even bigger. chris was always so confident in what he was doing, but this time he wanted a little more... convincing.

that's how you found yourself on your knees between his legs, teasingly sucking on his tip while he was trying to focus on making his song perfect. "i think— fuckkk, i think something's off with the beat..." his grip on your hair tightened while he stared at the computer in front of him, one specific verse from his song was playing over and over again as he tried to figure out what was wrong. pulling out for a second, you speak, "you're trippin', chris." he glances down at you, just as you take his dick all into your mouth, feeling him hitting the back of your throat and you try really hard to fight your gag reflex, which makes your eyes water.

"i ain't trippin', mama, it has to be— oh, fuck!" chris almost squirms in the chair as your tongue swirl around the tip and then you take him all back in.

you'd lie if you said you didn't love it. he made it clear multiple times that he's not the relationship type, but it didn't stop you from hooking up with him, you were honestly so obsessed and he's so hot, especially when he's in the studio rapping.

chris watches you with his bottom lip between his teeth, the image of you between his legs already printed in his head, since it was a common activity for you both, but still every time you'd get down on him, you were able to make him feel even better than the last time. you just looked so pretty on your knees like this.

taking him further into your mouth, he jerks his hips upwards, thrusting down the back of your throat, which caused you to choke a little, few tears running down your cheeks, but he's quick to wipe them away with his thumb, "c'mon, ma, you can... you can do it, yeah?" his voice horse from the arousal, you let him fuck your mouth for a few moments before slightly putting your hand on his hips, making him stop. chris just loved the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, the way you were able to take him all, he was always amused by it.

today you promised him to show how much you actually loved his song, to which he agreed, so he tried not to control your movements, letting you please him as you want. it was getting really hard though.

once again you suck on his tip, causing him to groan, "y'so good f'me—" he swallows, the grip on your hair becomes even tighter as he looks down at you, "--my good girl... takin' me all in..." the sudden praise makes you moan, the vibrations around his dick causing him to curse out loud and throw his head back. he was getting lost in pleasure, when you started bobbing your head faster, using your hand to pump the rest of his cock.

"so you do like... fuckkk, you like my song that much, huh?" his darkened blue eyes meets yours, it was taking all of his control to not start thrusting into your mouth. his question was stupid, you loved his song and had to make sure he understood that. swirling your tongue around the tip again, your other hand slightly fondling his balls, making him moan and curse under his breath and it was like music to your ears. wanting to please him more, you'd take him deep again, speeding up your pace, but after a moment gagging and pulling out for a second, "fuck, sorry, you're jus' so big—" you mumble out of breath, a string of saliva connecting your lips with the head of his cock while your hand continues to jerk him off as you speak.

"the fuck did you jus' say?" after hearing you, that was it. felt like something snapping inside of him, he hisses through gritted teeth, "— say it again. say it."

clearly able to see the way something changed in his expression, you repeat yourself, "you're too big, chris.."

he groans, still gripping your hair tight and now pushing your head further down on his cock, so you took him all in again. before, he'd let you do whatever you wanted, but now he didn't care about it and started thrusting up into your mouth. you gag a little again as his tip hits the back of your throat, but you fight the urge to pull back again, breathing through your nose and hollowing your cheeks around him. chris was panting, watching you through half-opened eyes, feeling himself getting closer to the edge now. "yeah, choke on it...." you hum at this words, taking him as deep as you can while he continues the movements of his hips, your nose brushing against his lower stomach with each thrust. "-- fuckin' naughty... too big, huh? look at you, how good you can take me..."

once again you moan around him, feeling your panties sticking to your slippery folds, your pussy begging to be touched and it was all because of him and how he was reacting to you.

"yeaaah, fuck, c'mon. just... jus' like that—" a choked moan leaves him and after few more seconds, his hips stutter, drops of cum spills into your mouth and down your throat. obviously, you try to swallow it all, not wanting to miss anything, but still a mix of his steed and your drool seeps past your lips. you pull out of him with a pop, opening your eyes and seeing him in probably your favorite states of his, his head on the back of the chair, cheeks flushed, eyes closed while he was trying to calm down his breathing. cursing once again, he gazes down at you, releasing your hair as you stand up from the floor, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and licking it.

as nothing happened, you look over at the screen of his computer, only now realizing the same verse of his song keeps playing over and over. you listen to it, before pausing it, "keep your tits around 'cause they nice to look at?" you repeat his lyrics, looking back at him with raised eyebrows, while he just finished buckling his belt, "--is that you hinting on something or...?"

chris glaze back at you, shrugging his shoulders innocently and leaning back in the chair. his eyes travel up and down your body, stopping at your breasts, your hard nipples very visible through the thin fabric of your crop top. with a smirk, he comes back to the eye contact, "i mean, i wouldn't really mind."

@certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt has a bad night, he asks if he can stay with you.

I have my own thoughts about his past, but a lot of comics and stuff have shown it to be pretty terrible. I wish they'd show it more. Because I'm a freak who lives on angst.

Warnings: Bad dreams, mentions of past abuse/mistreatment, overall sad vibes but with comfort for our boi. Unedited lmao. Gender neutral reader. <3

WC: 2.8k

You awoke to a soft rap at your door, the grogginess in your head heavy as you slowly sat up from your slumber. The room was still dim as the gentle moonlight filtered through the curtains. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes when the rap repeated, more insistent this time, urging you to rise.

With a sigh, you slipped out of the warm cocoon of your sheets, feeling the chill of the early morning air on your skin. The floor was icy cold under your bare feet as you padded towards the bedroom door, each step making you more aware of the lingering drowsiness that clung to you.

Upon opening the door, you were taken aback to see Kurt standing there, looking quite disheveled and out of sorts. His curly hair was an unruly mess, and his clothes were wrinkled, adding to his overall appearance of exhaustion. He seemed not just tired, but also profoundly sad, or perhaps disturbed in some inexplicable way. You could see the weight of some unspoken burden in his eyes. "Kurt? It's the middle of the night..." you began quietly, your voice tinged with concern as your eyes scanned his entire body, noting every detail that hinted at his distress.

"Ja...ja, I know," he whispered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear. "Do you mind...if I stay with you tonight?" His question caught you off guard, and you blinked as the sleep faded slightly at his question. He must've had a terrible night if he was asking to stay in your room. You couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make him feel so desperate for comfort.

Kurt had been too nervous to sleep with you before, something about not being able to keep himself under control or...maybe it just made him nervous? You remembered the times he had hesitated at your door, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. Despite his apprehensions, however, you were more than willing to compromise. You loved him deeply and cherished your relationship, and if he wanted to keep separate bedrooms, so be it.

You had always believed that love was about understanding and respecting each other's boundaries, and you were prepared to do just that for Kurt.

As you looked him over, you could see him shaking a bit. His hands trembled slightly, and his eyes darted around nervously. Was he nervous? He seemed really upset, almost like he was fighting back tears, and it made your chest ache with concern. "Of course you can...come on." You moved from the door and let him come in, which he quickly did, almost as if he couldn't wait to get inside.

He stepped into your room and looked around, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with an air of desperation. His gaze lingered on the bed, as if it represented some form of comfort or solace he desperately needed at that moment.

"You can get in bed...if you want? Are you sure you're ready to sleep together?" you asked gently, your voice filled with concern and tenderness. You placed a comforting hand on his back, hoping to offer some reassurance in this vulnerable moment. However, you felt him flinch slightly under your touch, causing you to retract your hand quickly, worried that he might react poorly or feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he responded quickly, almost as if on instinct. His voice was shaky and filled with uncertainty. "I...I didn't mean to..." he rasped out a quick apology, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to explain. He looked at you with wide eyes, like he were on the verge of panicking, his face a mix of fear and desperation. You could see the struggle within him, the conflict between wanting closeness and his fear of vulnerability. You felt a surge of empathy and wished there was something more you could do to ease his distress.

"Hey, hey... it's fine, Kurt..." you reassured him gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What happened... do you want to talk about it? I'm here for you, and you can tell me anything."

He looked uncertain, as if he didn't even know where to begin. His eyes were cast downward, staring at his hands while he absentmindedly fiddled with the fabric of his clothes. After a moment, he glanced up at you, his eyes searching for reassurance. "I... just want to lay down... bitte," he murmured softly, his voice almost a whisper. You could see the weariness in his expression and knew he needed some time to process whatever was troubling him.

You both managed to crawl into your bed, with him making himself right at home, curling up in the sheets and laying down. He curled up like a cat, his legs drawn up close to his body, and his tail wrapped around him as he nestled into a tight ball. The sight of him doing this was both endearing and concerning. You could tell that something was wrong, but you didn't want to push too hard for him to open up and tell you about it. Instead, you chose to give him some space, hoping that in time he would feel comfortable enough to share what was bothering him. You watched him for a moment, your concern growing.

You slipped in next to him, slowly and gently pulling the blankets over the two of you, wrapping you both in a comforting cocoon. He seemed so meek and vulnerable in that moment, which was quite unexpected and strange to see. He murmured an apology to you, his voice soft and filled with regret, looking up from his little spot. As he uncurled ever so slightly, you noticed the weariness in his eyes. "I have not had...the best of nights," he confessed, his words carrying weight you didn't like to hear.

"How so...?" you questioned gently, your voice soft and filled with concern, wanting to be patient, yet also eager to understand what was troubling him. You slowly scooted closer, trying to offer comfort through your presence, hoping that your proximity would provide some solace. Kurt sat up a little more, his posture shifting as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. His eyes seemed distant, as if he was searching for the right words to articulate his feelings, the weight of his emotions clearly visible on his face.

"I had a bad dream," he started, cringing to himself at how childish that sounded. He felt embarrassed telling you he had a nightmare, but he wanted to get it out so you understood. "It was when I was still living in Germany, at the circus."

"Oh," you replied gently. You honestly didn't know much about the time he spent there. You only knew of the performances and the random small things he'd mention, like the colorful costumes and the lively crowds, but none of it was ever bad. You had heard anecdotes of the tightrope walkers and the clowns, but never anything that seemed dark or troubling. So you weren't sure what caused the nightmare.

"What was the nightmare of...?" your voice softly broke the heavy silence, causing him to flinch slightly. His mind wandered back to the harrowing treatment he had endured at the hands of the owner. He recalled the brief, haunting flashes of the small, cold cage he was kept in, the suffocating confinement that gnawed at his spirit. He could almost feel the searing burn in his veins from the drugs he had been injected with to keep him quiet, the chemicals coursing through his body, numbing his senses. All the while, he remembered the crowds that stared at him, their eyes cold and unfeeling, regarding him as nothing more than a mere spectacle, just another animal to gawk at and forget.

He hated remembering. How he had been stripped of all humanity, treated like a creature not meant to be. Drugged and caged, it was utterly humiliating.

"I performed...but it was not all good things. After each of my performances, I was given a drug to keep me docile and weak, making it easier for them to control me. Once the show was over, I was kept in a cage where I spent most of my time when I wasn't performing in the big tent. There wasn't anything in the cage besides some sparse hay scattered on the floor, which didn't really do much..." he mumbled. "It was cold and hard, laying on the surface hurt my joints after so long. But...what could I do?"

You listened intently as Kurt began to describe the horrific conditions he was kept in, and your heart ached terribly with every word he spoke. "They didn't give me much to eat," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I felt sick a lot of the time. The owner wasn't nice at all... He treated me just like the animals. When I trained, he would use a whip on me, just like he did to them." Kurt's voice was filled with a quiet resignation as he continued to recount the harrowing experiences he had endured.

The pain and suffering he had gone through were evident in his every word, painting a vivid picture of the cruelty he had faced in your mind, making you want to cry for him. You imagined a younger Kurt, being forced to flip around until his feet hurt while an angry man lashed him bloody. It made you angry, your emotions burning you up inside, even if it was all in the past.

Kurt swallowed thickly, pausing for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts. "I just...my dream was about all that," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I was there again, back in that horrid place. I felt the cold metal of the cage around me, trapping me, making me feel so small and powerless. They were giving me drugs to make me weak, I felt the substances sap my strength and will to move at all. Strangers were surrounding me, faceless figures poking and prodding me through the bars. They were trying to get a reaction from me, as if I were some kind of experiment, as if I couldn't think or speak for myself. It was as if they saw me as less than human, just a creature to be studied and tormented."

It was truly awful to listen to. Hearing the unvarnished truth about his upbringing was absolutely heartbreaking. You couldn't have imagined he had experienced such harrowing things, especially considering that the only things he ever mentioned prior to this were lighthearted and fun. He would occasionally showcase an acrobatic skill or share random knowledge about specific animals, most of which were used in the circus. His stories were always filled with a sense of wonder and excitement, he had a ways with words, the dear showman he was.

But Kurt had never mentioned anything remotely like this before. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back, revealing a world of pain and hardship that he had kept hidden. The contrast between his usual cheerful anecdotes and this sudden revelation was stark and deeply unsettling. It made you see him in a completely new light, amazed at the strength it must have taken for him to carry such a burden while still managing to bring joy to others.

From the little he mentioned, an onlooker might not think it’s that big of a deal, but you had to consider the fact that he endured these hardships almost his entire life. His upbringing, starting from infancy and continuing until the moment Xavier found him, was filled with severe mistreatment. He was beaten regularly, starved to the point of extreme malnutrition, drugged with substances that left him in a constant haze, and kept in captivity as if he were one of those beautiful but tragic animals in a zoo. This cycle of abuse and neglect shaped his entire existence, leaving deep emotional and physical scars that would take a lifetime to heal.

And he somehow still managed to see the good in the world. In everyone.

You could tell he was struggling to continue, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. Instead of pressing him with more questions that might overwhelm him, you just gently tugged him a little closer, offering silent support. "It's okay," you murmured softly, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "You are here now, somewhere safe. I'm here with you, I always will be." You wanted him to feel every bit of your sincerity. As you spoke, you pulled him to lay even closer, deciding that tonight was a good night to be the big spoon, wrapping him in your protective embrace. He needed you right now, and you were more than happy to provide him with the comfort and security he needed.

Kurt scooted closer, his tail wrapped securely around your leg and his face buried deeply into your chest. He loves you profoundly, cherishing not only your presence but also how you allowed him to share something so deeply personal without any judgment or excessive questions. He didn't feel like explaining or answering questions at that moment. He just... needed your comfort, your warmth, and the unspoken understanding that you would be there for him no matter what. Your silent support made him feel safe and accepted, his eyes burned with tears that threatened to pour out, he tried so hard to hold it in.

You could feel his body shake more intensely as he laid there with you, his shoulders racked with silent crying, and you couldn't stand to see him in such pain. The sight of his sorrow broke your heart into pieces. Your hand gently rubbed his back in a soothing manner, and you tugged him closer to you, your arms tightening slightly around him as if to shield him from his anguish. "It's okay," you whispered softly and reassuringly, trying to convey all the love and comfort you could through those simple words.

Your reassurance helped immensely, providing him with the comfort and security he desperately needed. He cried quietly, finally giving in to his overwhelming emotions and letting out everything he had been holding in for so long. For months, he had bottled up all his problems, always putting others before himself and never considering that he should prioritize his own well-being. The weight of his emotions had been building up for so long, and the bad dreams he had been experiencing recently were the final straw that pushed him over the edge. It was a release of months of pent-up emotion.

He needed this release desperately; it was a cathartic experience for him, allowing him to purge the overwhelming emotions that had built up inside. And you were there, steadfast and unwavering, grounding him amidst the turmoil that threatened to consume him. You were his shelter, his rock, supporting him with soothing whispers and tender kisses on his temple as he cried quietly against you. Kurt tried his best not to let his tears fall on you, but you didn't care in the slightest. Your only concern was to keep him close, right against your chest, providing the comfort and solace he so desperately needed.

Kurt's crying gradually slowed down and he finally stopped, his little sobs quieting and his uneven breathing becoming more steady, only hitching every so often as he tried to calm himself. He stayed curled up against you, feeling more comforted and secure than he ever had before in his life. In that moment, he cherished you deeply, more than words could express. "Danke...I..I did not mean to get so...emotional," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with embarrassment about his unexpected breakdown. He glanced up at you, seeing the kindness and love in your eyes.

"It's okay, Kurt. I promise. I'm here for you, no matter what you need. If you need a good cry like this, then so be it," you reassured, your voice gentle and soothing. "I just want you to know that you're not alone, you're safe, surrounded by family now," you continued, emphasizing the word 'family' to remind him that he is in a place where he is loved and cared for. "We all care about you deeply, especially me..." You kissed his forehead lightly while your thumb wiped his cheek. "And we'll get through this together. Whatever happens, we'll face it side by side.”

With your gentle reassurance and comforting presence, he finally found the peace he needed to fall asleep. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his night wasn't plagued by the harsh and haunting memories of the circus. Instead of being tormented by those painful recollections, he slept peacefully throughout the night. Nestled securely in your arms, he lovingly nuzzled even closer to your chest, finding solace and warmth in your embrace.

Undisturbed rest had eluded him long enough.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[sanspuppet]

dom!hwa with his low voice whispering dirty words into your ear while pleasuring you during a long night… (yes i’m down bad ever since i heard his rap in matz😵‍💫)

W/T: fingering, pet names (pretty, darling), unprotected sex (don’t)

A/O: happy to see im not the only one down for him so bad lately, wtf??? he’s so fucking gorgeous in this comeback. ALSO I LOST HALF OF THE WORK because of a glitch and i was annoyed as fuck, but i tried to write it all again, hope you like it anon! thanks for the request :3

• not proofread cause here’s late and im too tired to function properly

“Come on baby, i know you can take more than this.” Seonghwa’s laying on your body, lips near your ear as his hand’s playing with your clit. It’s been a long hour since you’re a whimpering mess, while your boyfriend’s trying to pleasure you. That’s right, he’s trying. You haven’t cum yet, and it’s driving you crazy, feeling Seonghwa’s fingers diving into your pussy but still haven’t creamed around them. “Why the fuck aren’t you cumming?” he whispers at you, a slight tone of frustration and disbelief in his voice. He’s surely more frustrated than you, you can tell it because he starts uncontrollably to exasperate. “Why? Want me to add another finger? Four fingers??”

“Should i eat you out?” “Aren’t my fingers enough for you?” you can’t deny that his whingy voice is incredibly hot, reminds you of his groans he emits while he uses to fuck you dumb. He buries again three fingers inside your pussy, sliding in and out of you faster than he did before. The sound of his palm slamming against your clit is booming inside your head. Hwa squeezes his eyes as he feels his arm burning from how quickly he’s finger fucking you, and his waist hurting as you’re gripping at it harshly, your fingertips diving into his skin. He sticks his tongue out when he feels your walls getting wetter, sighing proudly. “Is this what you want? Want me to fuck you harder?” you moan desperately, arching your back as he pulls out, your folds clenching around nothing but the air. “Keep talking” is the only thing you can articulate. “Huh?” Seonghwa rubs his index finger against your inner walls, playing with your wetness. “Is it because of my voice?” he slides out, licking joyfully your arousal off of his finger. “Yeah, fuck-“ you murmur. He intentionally groans lowly at your ear, secretly smirking as he replies you: “Didn’t know it” you bite your lower lip, your mind getting blurry from the way your body reacts to his voice. “Fuck, you always taste so good, pretty.” He leans in for a deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You can’t even know how fucking hard i am” You can feel his gaze moving down your body. “Wanna ruin your pussy with my own dick.” whimpers keep leaving your mouth, wanting to feel him inside you more than anything else. “Wanna fuck you so hard, that i won’t need to stretch out your pussy before fucking you.” He gets up, and immediately positions himself between your legs. “Gonna make you cum so quickly, pretty.” his cock pops out as he drags his pants down, without even waiting a second he pulls his length inside your wet cunt, another groan escaping his mouth as he feels the warmth of your pussy embracing his dick. “Fuck, so tight.” he murmurs. You moan loudly, clenching helplessly around him. “Yeah, shit. Keep doing it darling.” Seonghwa holds your legs when he starts to slide in and out of you. He throws his head back as he tries to concentrate on the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock without any problems.

“Ready? Imma fuck you senseless tonight.”

[softbeej]

may I request riding alastors thigh? its okay if not ^^!! no rush!!

you may!! :D also got a big praise kink-y on accident!

Sweet Dreams (Alastor x Reader)

You didn’t know what time it was when you heard feather light rapping on your bedroom door, but you could only assume it was gone midnight. Barefoot, you trudged to the door and opened it, mind still foggy with sleep. 

No one was there.

You even peeked out in the hallway, but still no one.

This could mean one of two things; either it was Angel pulling a stupid prank, or it was Alastor.

As if on cue, your radio buzzed to life.

“Are you awake, deary? Come up to the tower and pay me a visit, would you?”

Then, it turned off. You smiled to yourself. This is how Alastor had taken to communicating with you without disturbing anyone else. He’d send a shadow down to grab your attention (He couldn’t feel guilty for waking you if it wasn’t actually him, right?), then, he’d talk through the radio. It’s strangely charming you thought to yourself as you yanked on slippers and wrapped yourself up in a robe before making the short walk up to the radio tower.

He was sat lazily on a desk chair when you arrived. His blazer shrugged off and was hanging over the seat, tie loose and top button undone. It was weird seeing him like this, you had to admit, but it was endearing seeing him so relaxed and at ease. It also made you feel slightly warm and fuzzy how he was beginning to let his guard down around you. 

“Everything okay, Al?”

He turned in his chair and smiled, head resting on his hand, “Fine and dandy, dear! I haven’t seen you all day, just wanted to check in.” 

His eyes were lidded, you couldn’t tell if this was due to lust or exhaustion (though it was probably both), and his grin seemed sleepier than usual. He patted his lap, beckoning you toward him. You happily followed, dropping your robe unceremoniously on the hardwood floor leaving you in your pyjamas. You straddled his thigh facing him, and he gave you a short chaste kiss on the lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“I do wish you’d visit me more up here. I can so easily loose track of time...”

“I know, I know. I just never want to bug you if you’re busy! That’s all...”

He kissed your hand, “Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome up here. Sometimes a distraction is just what I need...”

You hadn’t noticed but his hands had travelled down to your hips, claws leaving invisible little scratches behind. He’d also slowly started gently rocking you on his thigh so slowly it hadn’t done registered until he picked the pace up. You giggled a little bit when you realized what he was doing and he just smiled up at you. 

“What? I’m just making sure you get a bit of attention! Think of it as an apology for me leaving you all day, hm?”

You gave in and melted into him, your panties getting more and more sodden with each of his words. You continued riding him as he kept teasing you.

“My, oh my. You really must of missed me, look how needy you are! Well, we’ll make sure you get taken care of, hm?”

You nod, and he started tapping his foot on the ground causing vibrations to shoot through your core. You reached for the zipper on his dress pants, but he brushed you off. “Not today, dear. Just let me take care of you, yes?”

Your hands instead moved up to his chest, half to balance you and half to just touch him. He kept bouncing you incessantly as you ground down on his thigh. You were sure his leg was soaked by now, but he honestly just seemed too tired to care. You kept letting out little mewls as you rocked back and forth, the whole time his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You really needed this, didn’t you? You look so pretty like this, like an angel.” He mused.

Your breathing hitched, “Ah... Close...”

He nodded understandingly, tightened his grip on your hips and bounced his knee slightly more violently, “You can cum, Darling. Don’t have to wait for permission... Not today, at least...”

You melt into him as you came, almost collapsing but he held you up. He helped you back to your feet and after checking that your knees definitely weren’t about to buckle, gathered your gown and draped it back over your shoulders before you both left his tower and retired back to the hotel. 

“You’re probably as tired as I am after that...”

“Sleep with me?”

Instead of insisting he slept in his own bed, he silently walked past his bedroom door and obediently followed you to yours.

[calummss]

dating 90s/00s eminem …

masterlist 𓆩♱𓆪

kim and hailie don’t exist in this universe

start and development of relationship

i definitely imagine him to take notice of you at one of the underground rap battles roughly 1992/1993

your friend who was interested in going dragged you along one night cause they were really into rap and hip hop

and there you saw him! the one and only marshall marthers destroying every opponent that stood before him

after the battles came to an end you were already attracted to him and tried to get to him to talk to him

here’s how i think it would go:

‘hey, i just wanted to tell you that you absolutely killed it on stage. it’s my first time here so i lack certain knowledge but i know enough to know that you have an incredible talent’

‘thank you. your first time? what’s your name?’

‘y/n’

‘eminem. marshall mathers’

i imagine you to awkwardly shake hands. like i know you’re in the detroit underground scene but neither of you knew how to proceed

‘i hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can i give you my number?’ your mind literally racing

‘sure, i’ll give you a call if i’m interested’

THIS MAN TURNS AROUND AND DIALS YOUR NUMBER AND LETS YOU ANSWER!! turning around with a smirk and just straight up low key flirting with you

he was embarrassed to bring you to his home but you eventually just showed up one day cause he wasn’t returning calls—you reassured him that you didn’t care and let slip that you loved him no matter what

marshall was definitely a bit overwhelmed at first and took him like a minute to snap out of his trance because it was most likely the first time he truly felt loved, appreciated and cared for

you supported him and his music until he was eventually signed

everyone was confused why you stayed with a man who wrote violent lyrics especially about his wife so you had to explain over and over again that the wife was fictional

and everyone that truly knew marshall knew that he would never lay a hand on you. he would rather d!e than hurt you

three years after you meet you become pregnant and were scared he was going to leave (news flash he didn’t)

he reassured you that if you wanted to keep the baby that you two would figure it out and that he would and could never ever leave your side

you married quick and definitely rushed it but it proved to be the best decision you made including keeping the baby

this lead to the birth of your beautiful daughter—for some reason the name romy jane won’t leave my mind so i’ll just leave it at that

anyway you blink and stardom surrounds marshall

a few hiccups occurred during the relationship but nothing major and you always managed to talk things trough

what the relationship would include

his hand would alway be on your waist! no matter if you’re on his lap, standing next to him or whatever, his hand will be at its rightful place

i believe he prefers cheek and jaw kisses. he loves a good forehead kiss and hand kiss when he’s emotional and talking to you about certain struggles

speaking of struggles; he would always and i mean always put on his strong persona for you but sometimes his walls would crumble and would cry into your shoulder holding you so tight like you’re about to slip from his grasp

you would make appearances in a few music videos

he would also prefer to be in the studio alone but brings you along when all demos are done to get your opinion because he values it a lot (low key more than dres)

of course you would be his main inspiration for a lot of songs, also you daughter, because he admires both of you so much

marshall is 100% a very jealous and possessive man. not overbearing but maybe a little more intense than the average man? he trusts you fully but not others. he doesn’t forbid you of anything but will always say and do stuff to let others know that you’re off limits

i imagine after you got married he got a tattoo of your face or name on his chest like right over his heart

likes holding hands in public and an occasional kiss but nothing more. he prefers his affection to be reserved for only you and not the world

ONLY refers to you as ‘my girl’. when he’s with friends he’d say stuff like ‘yo, where is my girl?’. and others would also refer to you as ‘his girl’. at one point you just got the nickname ‘slim’s girl’ or ‘shady’s girl’ depending on which you prefer

tries to keep you away from hollywood and only goes for recordings, shows etc. when he’s done you both leave for detroit to lead a somewhat quiet life

definitely will buy you a lot of gifts. sometimes expensive or cheap; something that reminds him of you or something he knows you want. he just feels like showering you with gifts. his love language is giving gifts or acts of service. he will watch your favourite show just because you like it

em will always thank you in his speeches!! something along the lines of ‘first of all thank you to dr. dre and my two beautiful girls who i love with my entire heart. you two are my world, i love you!’

but like you don’t understand he will always thank you. he could win a life time supply of soap and he would say your name with pride…he’s just so grateful to have you and to be able to call you family

would hold your bag/bags for you. marshall gives you princess treatment without realising bc he genuinely wants to do it. he will snatch those bags out of your hands before you can protest

when other artists or people take your name or your daughter’s name into their mouths with negative connotations you best believe em will rip them apart, so most people will never attack you or romy bc it’s a death sentence

people can call him lame, bad rapper, ugly, whatever they feel like but as soon as anyone mentions a hair on you or romy’s bodies…it’s over. careers are shredded…you love it though

if you are a girl who likes to get her nails done this is for you; at first you started asking him to choose a design and colour and at first he was confused but he learned to love it especially when you scratched his head or your hands around his yknow what…he even once tried to design some and you got it done

the sex is a mix of mildy rough and vanilla. sometimes you both need something a little more “agressive” but he also needs a calm session. i see it kind as a light switch: it’s either rough or vanilla, occasionally you mix it but it turns out one way or another

also the man is a sucker (pun) for head. like he loves your mouth on him. i genuinely believes it’s in his top 2 favourite sexual activities (don’t deny it i’m right)

extra: if you love marshall right and you two work, it will be both of yours best love, but if things don’t work they can quickly turn into a relationship from hell

[delaber]

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Words: 5.3K

Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers

Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.

Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.

According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.

For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.

"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.

Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.

"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"

He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.

His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.

"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.

"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"

It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.

Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.

"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"

"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."

Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.

"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."

"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."

Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.

Something really bad must've happened...

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.

You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.

You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."

He nods again.

"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.

Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.

"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.

He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.

"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.

Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 

"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?

He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."

Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.

"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.

From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.

"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"

You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."

Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"

He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.

"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."

"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."

At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"

"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."

You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.

"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.

"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"

"You good?"

"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."

You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.

"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."

"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.

"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."

Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.

"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."

Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.

The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.

Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.

You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.

"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.

"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.

Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.

Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"

"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"

"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.

Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.

With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.

"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.

He wants you to join him.

To wash him.

Take care of him.

The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.

"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.

With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.

He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."

"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.

The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.

Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.

"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.

Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."

"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.

He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.

"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"

"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.

"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."

You look up into his eyes.

He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.

"I know, Buck."

"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.

"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.

He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.

You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.

Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."

You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.

"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."

You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -

"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."

"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.

"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."

You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.

"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."

"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.

"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.

"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.

"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."

"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."

"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."

"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."

"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.

You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.

"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."

"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."

"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.

"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.

"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.

Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.

"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.

"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.

The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.

You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.

"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.

You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.

"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."

You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.

"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.

"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.

"I love you too."

"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."

You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.

He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."

"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."

"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.

"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."

With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.

His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"

"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.

He's finally smiling and it's because of you.

"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."

You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."

"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.

"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."

[kpop---scenarios]

Day Four: Jisung

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Warning: Just smut, you know.. smut [18+ MINORS DO NOT READ]

Wors Count: 1k

Day One: Felix | Day Two: Jeongin | Day Three: Changbin |

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N, I need some inspiration.” Han tells you over the phone. “I'm trying to work on this beat for a rap I want to do, but damn I'm having a hard time.”

“I know nothing about beats.” You start. “But I can bring you supper if you'd like.”

“Yes please. I have a feeling it's going to be a late one today.” He sighs.

With that, you hang up the phone and head over to his favorite restaurant, grabbing his favorite meal and then heading over to the JYP building.

“My savior.” Han sighs, seeing you walk in with just what he wanted.

“Any luck so far?” You ask, leaning against the mixing board.

“None.” He groans, looking over at you. He notices immediately how your skirt has ridden up your thigh, showing off more of your leg. He clears his throat, looking at the supper you brought him. You bend over, to scratch your leg, and he can't help but look back over at you just to see your slightly low cut shirt hanging down, your breasts showing.

Fuck. He wasn’t hungry anymore. He didn't even want to eat his food.

“Why aren't you eating?” You ask, looking at him, looking at you a certain way.

“Cause I'm not hungry for that anymore.” He says, slipping off his jacket. He moves the food to a different place, walking back to you.

“What are you hungry for then?” You wonder, watching him walk closer to you.

He looks at you, smirking. He grabs his chair, pushing it back and out of his way.

“You.” He says pulling you towards him. “I wanna eat your pussy.” He turns you around, bending you over the soundboard. His sudden aggression was so fucking hot. You're desperately waiting for what he was about to do. You can feel him lift up your skirt, yanking your panties down to pool them around your ankles. He takes his foot, kicking your own foot to spread your legs before he drops to his knees.

You're panting as you feel his breath so close to your pussy. You feel his head between your legs kissing your lips, gripping your inner thighs as he moves his tongue around.

“Holy shit.” You groan. In all the time the two of you had been fucking around, he had never eaten you out like this. He moves his tongue up, flicking your clit with the tip, making your knees buckle. He moves away from your clit, moving his tongue all along your folds, and to your hole, sticking his tongue in as far as he can.

“Jesus.. fuck.” You cry out, your hands trying to grip anything, anywhere on the board. You're panting loudly as he sloppily moves his entire mouth around your cunt. It was like nothing you'd ever experienced before.

He removes his mouth from you, it's cold. “Why?” You pant. “Why did you stop?” You whine.

“I want you to cum all over my face.” He says, latching his mouth back onto you. Who were you to say no?

“Just.. fucking like that.” You cry out. “Yes, yes.” You groan, your legs are shaking as his fingers dig deeper into your thighs. Your orgasm is coming on fast. He licks, and sucks you all over, you can't hold it in anymore.

“Fuck, I'm cumming.. shit I'm cumm…” You pause as it hits you, making you cry out loudly. “Oh my god.” You breathe.

You continue to lay on the soundboard, trying to catch your breath and you hear Han behind you, and the sound of him dragging the zipper of his jeans down. “Please fuck me.” You whine, already knowing full well that's what he was going to do. He leans over, laying his body on yours as his lips brush against your ear. “Make sure you're loud, baby.” He whispers before he rams his cock inside of you without warning.

“Ah, fuck!” You scream as he takes no time to ease himself into you. Instead he fucks you as hard as he can right off the bat. You're moaning so loud, you're sure the entire floor could hear you but right now you just don't care.

“That's right, scream for me. Fuck your cunt is so wet.” He spits. He moves his hand around your throat squeezing as he rams his cock into you at a quick pace. As he chokes you, his other hand grabs onto your ponytail, yanking it back, making you arch more into it, allowing him to shove his cock in deeper inside you.

“Please.. please can I cum?” You ask, his hand moves from your throat, grabbing onto your hip as he grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

“Cum all over my cock baby.” He groans. With that, your second orgasm hits so hard, pulsating through your body. He lets go of your hair, you fall forward back onto the board as he uses his other hand on your other hip, holding on tightly as he works desperately for his orgasm.

“Where..fuck.” He pauses as you squeeze your pussy around him. “where do I cum?” He grunts. “You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum inside you.”

“Do that.” You pant. “cum in my pussy, fill me up with your cum.”

“so fucking hot.” He groans, digging his finger tips deep into your hips as he cums, just as hard as you, shooting his load deep inside your pussy. You both remain still for a moment, until he pulls out of you, pulling his pants. He kneels down, pulling up your panties, noticing his cum seeping out from inside you.

“Leave it in there.” He smirks as he pulls up your panties. He helps you walk over to the couch, your legs feeling like jello. “the guys will be here in 5 minutes, and that's so fucking hot to think about.” He finishes, sitting down at the board that he just fucked you on. He pushes a few buttons and the sounds of your moans play over the speakers. He grins as he turns back to look at you.

“That's the inspiration I needed.” He smiles, just as four men walked into the studio.

“What's that smell I'm smelling?” Chan asks, looking between you two. You hide your face, not knowing what to say.

“That's the smell of success, man.” Han grins.