#do not touch him or you will spontaneously combust

[tekatonic]

And now the post with everything Hyper Sonic and Shadow, featuring Hyper Silver, from least recent to most !

Now you finally know where my icon comes from ^^

[caotictimmy]

I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!

I think he's such a golden retriever bf 😭 like both ways— sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud

NOW NSFW-WISEE.....

Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane

He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happiness—hes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him

i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.

🐁 out!!!

🐁 anon I love your thinking please don’t spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMG….

Sfw headcanons/thoughts

- Now that I’m thinking of it. I should have known he’d like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.

- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!

- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisuke’s head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated 💔. But he’s glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.

- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.

- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when y’all were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you weren’t taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )

- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while he’s deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. It’s like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.

- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and it’s Daisuke pulling his hair back.

-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).I’m Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.

“wait!”. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. “Now I’m ready” he say cheekily.

- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please I’ll be in debt with you. PLEASE HE’LL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!

-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while he’s eating you out. Like omg if you’re pulling at his hair moaning. He’s gonna feel so good about himself knowing he’s pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while he’s eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. “Did I do something wrong.” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No no! Just needed-“. You huffed, “need..need a moment.” You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. “Did I..” He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. “Did I do good?” He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.

Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.

[wcnderlnds]

impatient | peter maximoff (smut)

✧ a little extra follow on to this fic but can be read separately. ✧

・❥・warnings: 18+ nsfw. it's just pure smut. explicit language, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: uh. this is the first time ive ever posted smut or fully wrote a whole fic of it so... IM NERVOUS BYE.

The movie had been completely forgotten about now. All Peter could think about was the way your lips felt on his, the way your tongue was in his mouth tangling with his. When you shifted in his lap, it was over for him. That was all he could handle. He pulled his lips from yours, breath heavy as he held you in place on his lap.

“What about the movie?” He said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Who cares?” You mumbled, hands sliding down his shoulders and along his chest. Peter took a sharp breath in trying to focus but it was very hard — literally and figuratively — when you were sitting on his lap looking flushed from your make out session; your cheeks all red, lips swollen. It was probably one of his favourite looks on you.

“I thought you did, considering you bugged me for days on end to sit and watch this with you.”

”Well, I want to do something else now,” you slowly rolled your hips against his, eliciting a growl from his lips. His fingers dug into your hips as he helped you move against him, guiding your movements. Slow and tortuous — you knew how much going slow tortured him and that’s exactly what you wanted to do. Get him so worked up that he snaps and gives you exactly what you want.

The friction of your hips rubbing against his him was almost too much for him. His head was thrown back on the couch as he guided your movements. It was then you took the opportunity to press your lips to his neck - lightly at first then gently nipping, leaving a nice red mark there, claiming him as yours. Watching him explain that hickey to everyone tomorrow was going to be your amusement for the day. He was at his wits end, he couldn’t take it anymore as he pulled you up from his neck, crashing his lips against yours hungrily. His hands wasted no time in grabbing the edge of your shirt, tugging it off over your head and throwing it across the room. He couldn’t care less about anything other than getting you naked now. His touch was desperate and needy as his hands roamed up your sides, around your back and to the clasp of your bra. In an instant, he had it undone, throwing it behind him. You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips at his eagerness. Your skin felt like it was on fire at his touch, the desire burning up inside you. 

His lips trailed down your neck with wet, open mouth kisses as his hands palmed your breasts. He lightly squeezed causing you to moan against his mouth which in turn made him smirk. As revenge, you rolled your hips against his harder, the outline of his cock prominent against his sweatpants. “Can’t wait anymore,” he breathed. You were almost certain he was using his powers when he pulled off your shorts in a blur, his own sweatpants gone and thrown to the side.

Now free from the confines of his sweats, you could see how hard he really was. As your hand reached out to palm him, he grabbed your wrist with a shake of his head. “Nuh-uh. I’m not fucking around right now. If I’m not inside you within the next second, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna spontaneously combust and that’d all be on you, babe. Imagine cleaning up that mess.”

“So dramatic,” you rolled your eyes at him but instantly shut up the second his hand slipped inside your panties. His fingers expertly began to rub circles against your clit, adding pressure that caused you to squirm in his lap fighting back a whimper.

“Not so sassy now, huh?” He smirked. His fingers moved faster against you, teasing between your folds with ease.

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck around?” 

“Now who's impatient.”

He pulled his fingers from your panties making sure to make a show of licking his fingers of your arousal. The sight alone was nearly enough to make you cum. He pulled off your panties quickly, discarding them with the rest of your clothes that were scattered around the room now. Peter shuffled you off his lap for a moment as he lifted his hips to pull his boxers off. His cock sprang free against his stomach, hard and aching. Biting your lower lip, you settled yourself back on his lap.

Reaching between your bodies, you grabbed his length and positioned yourself above him. Slowly, too slowly for Peter, you sank down onto him. The groan that fell from his lips sounded like heaven, a gasp of your own echoing through the room as he filled you up. “Fuuuuuck,” he grabbed your hips tightly.

He gave you no time at all to adjust to him before he was thrusting his hips up into you. Hard. He slipped in and out of you easily - it was a marvel to him how wet he could get you without even really trying. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he kept pounding up into you. The moans passing your lips were music to his ears as he hit all the right spots. Finally, you managed to get him to still when you stuck your tongue in his mouth, stopping him in his tracks allowing you to start moving your own hips. His moved mouth hungrily against yours as you fucked yourself on his cock, Peter looking between your bodies as he watched himself disappear in and out of you. ‘What a damn beautiful sight’, he thought.

“F-Fuck, so good, baby. So good, keep going,” he praised as his hands slid up your back. He pulled himself up so his chest pressed against yours, the skin on skin contact only driving him closer and closer to the edge. One hand tangled in your hair, pulling your mouth back down to his. The only noises heard throughout the room were the slapping of skin and your moans that weren’t swallowed by Peter’s mouth. As you rode him, you felt that familiar coil start to build inside. Peter picked up on it, feeling you clench around him and suddenly you were on your back on the couch, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. “Shit… fuck, need to come, baby. Let go. Let go for me. Not gonna stop until you do.”

As much as he wanted to let go, he needed you to finish first. Peter was anything but selfish. 

His babbling in your ear along with the feeling of him deep inside you was enough to send you over the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it as your body arched into his. “Peter!” You cried out, body shaking as your orgasm hit you with such force you were sure you saw stars.

That was all it took to send Peter over the edge. “Fuck,” he hissed, pulling out (he really had no excuse to have a bad pull out game) and stroking his length until he painted your stomach with his release. In an exhausted heap, he threw himself down beside you. His hand lay on his chest as he caught his breath back.

“We might have to watch that freaky little doll again if this is how it ends up.”

“Are you saying Chucky turns you on?”

Peter had zoomed off to get a damp cloth to clean you up, reappearing in front of you in a blur of silver and blue to catch what you said. “What? No! Don’t twist my words, weirdo.”

“Wait until you find out there's like five of these movies. Can’t imagine how horny that’ll make you,” you teased. Sitting up, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 

“Hate you.” It was a pathetic mumble against your lips.

“Not what you said five minutes ago.”

[rebelfell]

bestfriend!eddie has an itch only you can scratch.

1k worth of flangst (fluffy angst? is that a thing?) sometime preceding this…

“You all right over there, buddy?”

The question came out half-chuckle, stilted by the air coming through your nose as you looked over at Eddie from your place on his bed.

He was stood in his open doorway with his back up against the frame, moving side to side in what could only be described as a shimmy.

“I have an itch, that alright with you?” he asked, the snark in his voice undercut by how silly he looked wiggling back and forth, rubbing his back like a bear against the bark of a tree.

Or a really uncoordinated pole dancer.

“Touchy, touchy,” you tutted at him and shook your head, going back to your book.

You paused, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you stared blindly at the words on the page, not absorbing them in the slightest.

“Do you, um…want help?”

Eddie froze in place mid-shimmy and he stared back at you like he was trying to decide if this was a trap or not. You peered back just as cautiously.

“What kind of help?” he asked warily.

You smirked.

“You know these guys are good for more than just shoplifting,” you told him as you held up your hands and wiggled your fingers.

“Oh, ummm…”

He coughed, trying to cover up how he was shaking at the thought of your nails scraping down his back leaving hot streaks in their wake.

Eddie knew why he hadn’t asked you to scratch his back. It was the same reason he never asked you to put suntan lotion on him or let you sit on his lap even when seating was limited. Why he always sat on the floor when you came over instead of sharing the space on his bed.

Because he knew if you touched him, if so much as one pad of one of your fingers made contact with him, he’d have an enormous problem.

Okay, maybe not enormous.

Above average, easy.

“Ed—are you for real?” you demanded when all he could do was stammer out a non-answer. “It’s just a back scratch, it’s not like I’m offering to penetrate you or something.”

And with that image in his head, Eddie was lucky he didn’t spontaneously combust on the spot.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” he answered at last.

Your eyes rolled, but you tossed your book to the side and got up on your knees, shuffling toward him with a smile. Steady, Munson. Steeeady…

“Sit down, you weirdo,” you instructed, a little too sultry for his liking.

He literally gulped as he turned and sank down on the foot of the bed, fists gripping the edge of the mattress so tight he could rip off a whole chunk.

“Is it anywhere in particular?” you asked.

Your voice was soft, way too soft, in his ear and he nearly jumped out of his skin as you took his long hair and gently draped it over his shoulder.

“Kinda…all over…” he said, stilted and tense.

“Okay. All over it is.”

This must be what hell feels like…

It was the only thought Eddie could manage that wasn’t x-rated. As your fingers curved into a claw shape and you started to gently drag them down Eddie’s back, he felt like his body was consumed with searing hot flames and suddenly the itch on his back didn’t seem all that pressing anymore.

The fact that all he could do was sit there while you touched him, your fingers doing something he could only describe as mind blowing, unable to act on the million and one filthy things that were running though his mind right then…

What he wouldn’t give to turn around and sweep you up in a kiss. To run his hands up and down your back until you were trembling, shivering, quaking out of control. Begging for him.

Oh, yep. He was in hell for sure.

A moan rumbled in his chest as you moved your hand to the small of his back and drew it slowly up his spine. And when your nails reached the nape of his neck his body literally writhed.

“Sorry,” you whispered, “too much?”

Too much, and not remotely enough.

“N-no,” Eddie stammered, still recovering from his shivers. “Just, ah…wasn’t ready for it.”

“Should I keep going?”

Yes, for the rest of our lives.

“No, that—ahem—that’s okay. Y-you got it.”

He cleared his throat again and started to stand, only to find himself unable to. He shifted his hips, trying to wiggle his way to some relief as he filled his mind with all the un-sexy thoughts he could.

A Herculean feat with you in the room.

Behind him, he could feel you back away and climb off the bed. Mercifully, you kept your head down, averting your eyes like you knew what he was hiding as you tucked your book back in your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Eddie looked up sadly when he realized what you were doing.

“You’re going?” he asked. “Already?”

“Yeah, kinda,” you said, still not looking at him.

Shit, he knew he fucked up. What was a not-weird way to tell you he didn’t mean to moan like that?

“Gotta get ready for this date, I guess.”

Oh. Right. Your date.

Eddie had seen him around campus a few times before he asked you to dinner. He was more on the preppy side—and blonde of all things. And his name, Johnny, made Eddie’s eyes roll.

He also thought he looked like a thumb.

“Well…have fun,” Eddie said shortly.

You finally looked up, meeting his eye line and shooting him a small smile.

“Thanks,” you said. “Try and go easy on your door frame,” you added lightly before you left.

Eddie chuckled, but the sound was too heavy.

He sat there, listening to your footsteps recede and crunch on the gravel outside as you walked to your car. He waited until he’d heard your engine roar to life and fade as you sped away before flopping backwards on the bed.

The issue between his legs having disappeared the moment you uttered the word “date.”

No doubt about it…

He was definitely in hell.

[captain-hawks]

you want to blame it on the sheer amount of people packed into mattsun’s small, tenth floor apartment—the way it’s suddenly difficult to breathe.

at least that’s what you mutter to makki as you excuse yourself and head toward the balcony’s reprieve, your drink forgotten on the coffee table as you step out into the frigid winter air.

but fuck if the familiar, warm scent of iwaizumi’s cologne doesn’t invade your nostrils a moment later anyway, something you’re beyond embarrassed to recognize with your eyes closed.

you don’t turn around as the sliding door clicks shut, eyes trained on some unremarkable landmark in the distance that you can’t quite make out in the darkness. and as he comes to stand beside you, forearms leaning on the metal handrail inches away from your own, you’re not sure if the slight shiver that wracks its way down your spine is from the flakes of snow that have begun to settle on your bare arms or his maddening proximity.

you can’t fucking stand it—this unceremonious collapse of your lungs in his presence, the blistering heat that prickles down your neck and closes tightly around your throat.

something soft and warm settles around your shoulders, and your throat goes dry as the zipper of his jacket brushes against your neck.

“where’s your girlfriend?” you ask, hoping the question doesn’t sound as pathetic as you feel.

it’s funny how these things work—you spent years trying to get over your silly high school crush, only for all of it to come crashing back down in your lap gathered at the bar with friends celebrating his return to japan after uni.

it’s funny—the way you could hardly remember the name of the guy you were casually seeing in that moment as you watched iwaizumi walk in with a pretty girl clutching his elbow.

iwa laughs quietly, and it’s a little rough, a bit self-deprecating. “where’s your boyfriend?”

it’s funny—the odd curve of his tone on the last word.

“don’t have one,” you reply, casting him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable.

“she told me she wanted to move to japan with me,” he says carefully, exhaling a cloud of warm air as his gaze sweeps to the skyline.

your heart sinks.

“and?”

“and i told her i wanted to break up.”

you whip around to face him, convinced you heard him wrong. “you what?”

he reaches across the space between your bodies, hands grasping the bottom edges of the jacket and zipping it up to your chin (and it’s so goddamn reminiscent of the way he used to chide you for not dressing properly on the walk to school that you sway a little on your feet).

you can’t help the way you nudge his foot in return just like you always used to—it’s muscle memory, more than anything else.

and yet you’re not anticipating the way he still follows up in kind, hooking a foot around the back of your ankle, muttering about your shit choice of shoes in the dead of winter. while it’s hardly a tap, it’s enough to make you take a step forward in surprise as the lines between the past and present begin to blur, stumbling slightly.

two hands at your waist steady you, and despite the layers between his palms and your hips, your nerve endings ignite.

“coming home made me realize that even moving to the other side of the world wouldn’t stop me from wondering,” he says softly, snowflakes accumulating in his mussed brown hair.

“wondering what, iwaizumi?”

he doesn’t answer you for a moment, just stares at you with an intensity that makes you briefly question the physics of spontaneous combustion.

“what it’d be like to hear you call me by my name for once,” he murmurs. “what it’d be like to do this, if you’d let me.” carefully, he traces the curve of your bottom lip, his touch feather-light.

your legs wobble, just a little, and iwaizumi’s left hip and thigh press up against you. it’s a weather phenomenon, the way everything goes quiet during snow fall—but it’d all be drowned out either way right now against the erratic thrumming behind your ribcage.

“i missed you, hajime,” you whisper, the syllables heavy on your tongue—they’re at odds with this dizzy lightness in your chest.

his eyes fall shut for a beat, lips curving upward in a faint smile, his fingers twitching subtly at your waist.

you begin to lean forward, and there’s a quiet sigh of relief that falls from his lips before he cups your face in both of his hands, his mouth crashing into yours.

[heartkaji]

fresh peaches

(n) — doing the lipstick trend with sakura haruka

@fushigurioo idk how but i deleted your ask 😕💔 come get you man though sis 😭

kiss sakura haruka and watch his cheeks bruise like fresh peaches. his body temperature is rising but you don’t give a damn because you’re a devil of a girl and teasing the poor boy is your favorite pastime.

“sakura, sit still,”

you press raspberry stained lips to his cheek once again and his skin is on fire / sweat sticks to his baby hairs / he can’t do this much longer. your lips leave burn marks on his face but all he can do is sit pretty as you coat his face in gloss & lipstick.

“i don’t see why i gotta do this.”

his words only stumble out of his mouth but you’re too slow to catch it, too fixated on which flavor of rhode lipstick you’ll use next on your lips ( & his face ). you settle for a shade similar to honeysuckle & wheat-wine. “you never see. just do this for me, won’t you ?”

sakura is glad you’re not looking at him but the mirror instead because his face is getting red and fuck, is the heater on ? the way you ask him to do it, not for doing’s sake but with you for you has his heart doing backflips. he dares to trace a star on your thigh & you don’t spontaneously combust so he takes that as a good sign.

you smack your lips twice, thrice, mwah ! when you turn back to sakura your lips are bent in a clumsy grin & theres a bit of gloss on your chin & sakura dares (once again) to wipe it off. this time you don’t combust and sakura takes it as a good sign because heaven knows he destroys everything he touches. you cup his jaw and he forgets how to breathe.

one kiss, two, but none of them near his lips. sakura is getting frustrated because how many more shades of peach skin & red wine will you run through before his lips meet yours ? it drives him crazy but you only giggle as you rush to pick up the next tube of lipstick. fuck you and your stupid trend and your stupid laugh and your stupid lips and—

oh ! you’re finally kissing him, properly. your tongue slips between his lips & your gloss tastes like berry sap & warm syrup. his grip tightens on your thighs as you moan into his mouth and god sakura has never known a hunger like this in his life. he dares ( this makes thrice now ) to tilt his head and deepen the kiss and once again you don’t combust so sakura lets himself be greedy. he slides his palm up your waist and you giggle unto his tongue and sakura forgets how to breathe for a moment. you break the kiss & sakura thinks he’s dared a bit too much & god knows he’d rather you combust to save himself the embarrassment; but you only breathe,

“you taste like fresh peaches,” and your lips find his own again.

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, edit, translate or reupload

[lxvvie]

Freely Using Ghost, A Tale of Two Brats edition:

Being bored and wanting to love up on someone, Simon specifically. Cornering him, using his chain as leverage to pull his face closer, your big bear of a man expecting some fuck and suck, only for you to kiss the side of his mouth, tell him what a good boy he is, boop his nose, and leave. Well, what the fuck?

Simon wanting to kiss you, wanting to feel your lips against his, wanting to shove his tongue down your throat but you keep laughing. Or pecking his lips when he really wants to deepen it. Fuck, you even blew into his mouth once and giggled like a madman when he glared. But he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. Sees the challenge in them. Fuck it.

Sexually Frustrated Simon being a grumpy grape because he should've been balls and/or tongue deep in your cunt yesterday but you keep. fuckin'. teasing. him. Simon trying his best to keep his composure but the voice messages you keep sending of you fucking yourself, moaning his name, and fuckin' telling him all the things you'd do to him are taking its toll. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Surprising Ghost with a blowjob but it's really so you can put the really cute cockring you purchased while he was away right where it belongs. And Simon wants to spontaneously combust. 😘

Playing with Simon's dick absentmindedly while watching TV. Looking up and Simon's dark eyes boring into yours. Because you're playing with his dick. His very hard, leaking dick. You put your finger in your mouth, tasting some of his precum. Your eyes never leave Simon's and deep breaths, mate. He's trying to keep calm even though he wants to facefuck you. You wink and go back to watching TV, a job well done, and if Simon could fuckin' disappear into the couch, he would. Bloody fuckin' tease.

Not wanting to fuck but wanting to suck. And leave hickeys. And so you do, on just about every expanse of Simon's body, especially his thighs. You touched and kissed and sucked on EVERY BLOODY PLACE EXCEPT HIS COCK. FUCK!

Simon finally snaps and you're on the receiving end of a series of sexually frustrated texts from Simon because fuck you. fuck you so fuckin much you drive him crazy fuck he can't stop thinking about you and your cunt and stoping fucking teasing him and just fucking FUCK him fUCK. You only text back, "lmao ❤️ ". Oh, fuck you.

Simon getting you back. By being the big spoon this time. So you can feel him press against your ass. Deliberately. "Don't you want to switch and be the little spoon, Si?" "Make me." Well, shit. He got you there. Payback's a 6'4", grumpy asshole, ain't it?

Simon finally being balls deep inside you, fucking out what seems like an eternity's worth of frustration in his body. Simon fucking you, hands intertwined with yours, lips pressed against his own, and he makes you cum multiple times over. Simon fucking you dumb—FINALLY—until you make him ruin his orgasm. shit—"Can't let you get off that easy, Si-bear! ❤️" Bloody fuckin' hell. You'll be the death of him. But all's fair in war and cunt and cock, luv.

[prentissluvr]

fake-dating!au headcanons — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, pining!!!, blood mention, kissing, lil bit of swearing, poor editing, 1K words. requested !

prompt : you and sam pretend to be dating for a case.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

⟢ “you’re too stiff, sam,” you hiss into his ear, leaning in close and making your features look all pleased as you say it, “we have to make this believable.”

⟢ when you pull back, sam looks like he’s trying not to blush, only because you’ve got your arms wrapped around his big upper arm, and you’re whispering things into his ear

⟢ he can feel your breath as you speak, and he thinks it could make him go absolutely crazy

⟢ he’s so flustered, and yet he’s starting to become determined to match your level of dedication, less so to succeed in the hunt, and more so to make you just as flustered as him

⟢ tonight, you pose as a lovesick couple in a decently nice restaurant

⟢ the monster you’re after has been scouting out couples here and preying on the most especially lovey dovey, affectionate couples it can find

⟢ you almost asked to do it with dean; he’s your best friend and you don’t have a massive crush on him like you do with sam

⟢ despite the fact that dean’s a weirdo, it would actually be easier to act the part with him because you’d feel exactly nothing except silly, but he insisted you do it with sam before you could even suggest anything else

⟢ and this close to sam, snuggled up into his side, you feel exactly… well, maybe, everything

⟢ you feel so much that you’d be zero percent surprised if you spontaneously combusted right then and there

⟢ and yet, you’re dedicated to finishing up this case, and you’re learning to enjoy the situation; if you have an excuse to be like this with sam, even just for a night, you’ll take it and make the best of it

⟢ you think you’re doing a grand old job at surviving the close contact, mostly because sam can’t seem to relax for longer than a minute

⟢ but you’re so in tune with him that you feel it the moment his perspective shifts from ‘i don’t know how to act, but i’m trying,’ to ‘i’m trying to induce a heart attack and kill you’

⟢ you’re sure that’s not how he thinks of it, but that’s what it feels like when he finally relaxes into your touch, then loops his arm around your waist and tugs you even closer to him

⟢ he leans close, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “yeah… and it looks like we have competition.”

⟢ you try desperately to keep your face from straying from its carefully constructed lovesick daze, but his breath against your ear makes it more than difficult to keep your composure

⟢ the lovesick look that you have for sam is actually a very natural state of being for you, but normally it comes about when you look at him from afar… 

⟢ or just not when your face is mere inches from his and his arm is solidly draped around your waist

⟢ it takes you a moment to register what sam actually said, and not thinking straight, you turn your head to look at him and ask for an explanation

⟢ you just don’t seem to recall that his face is only inches from yours, so close that your nose brushes against his and you suck in a sharp breath of surprise

⟢ it takes everything in you not to jerk backwards, but you stop yourself by grabbing the lapel of his suit

⟢ “competition?” you repeat, voice coming out quiet and a little raspy

⟢ “yeah,” he whispers back, eyes flicking away from yours for just a moment in the direction of another couple that had just walked into the restaurant

⟢ you glance over; they’re glued to each other’s side, wide smiles and heart eyes to rival anything you’ve seen

⟢ competition is right, which means that you and sam have to step it up, because you’ve spotted the monster already and he’s watching, looking for the best, most affectionate couple to take like he’s been going the past few weeks

⟢ you turn back to sam, looking him in the eyes with a sweet smile, “sam, can i kiss you on the cheek?” you whisper

⟢ “y-yeah, yeah, you can,” he whispers back

⟢ you think your heart could beat out of your chest as you lean closer, then press your lips to his cheek bone

⟢ you linger, then drop your head onto his shoulder and snuggle into him so that he can’t see the look on your face

⟢ whatever’s in your eyes isn’t just an act, and you’re unsure if you can let sam see that

⟢ though maybe it’ll help if the monster can, you’re sure that you look beyond in love at this moment

⟢ sam returns the favor with a kiss to the top of your head and a squeeze to your waist and he’s glad that you can’t see his face either because he looks just as completely and irrevocably in love as you do

⟢ it turns out that the other couple isn’t real competition; the monster clocks that they’re just a short fling, but you two? oh, you love each other and anyone can tell it with ease

⟢ you pretend to be lured out by the monster when he approaches, but the two of you make quick work of him in mere minutes

⟢ it’s the aftermath that’s hard

⟢ it’s the lack of an excuse to be so close to him, the thought of what if i never get to kiss him on the cheek again, what if i never get to kiss him at all? that really gets you

⟢ and now sam knows without a doubt that he goddamn needs you; he’s wondered before but now he knows

⟢ so when he reaches over and wipes away a splatter of blood from your face, you lean into his touch, you step towards him with intent

⟢ he’s not even thinking when his hand lands on your hip, not even when it pulls you closer

⟢ and he almost doesn’t think when he leans in, but he stops just inches away and whispers “fuck, can i kiss you?”

⟢ then your hands are in his hair and your lips are on his, kissing him hard and he’s kissing back with everything in him

⟢ you’re really fucking in love with each other !!!!

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley trauma edition

Warnings: mentions of trauma and relating effects

Simon Riley masterlist

Plain and simple, Simon Riley has trauma. He’s seen and done some unspeakable things. He’s met the grim reaper and made it beg for forgiveness as he clawed his way back to this plane of existence. He’s looked God in the face and said “fuck your plan. I’m doing things my way.”

With that comes consequences.

He has terrible nightmares most nights where he wakes up with a raw heart and covered in sweat. His throat hurts from the screaming he must have been doing while he dreamt about his family’s murders. His eyes are sore from the tears he shed when he relived being buried alive. His body aches from being in fight or flight for so long. He hurts everywhere all of the time. Most nights he can’t sleep in bed. Instead he’ll lay on the floor or the couch because it’s uncomfortable but it’s what he’s used to. He only uses a thin blanket and maybe an old pillow that’s basically cardboard. Nothing can be touching him because he immediately wakes up. No one can walk past him or the room he’s sleeping in without his eyes snapping open. He has to face the door when he sits down because he needs to be able to see if anything happens. He’s concealed carrying at all times because he feels exposed without the familiar weight of a weapon at his hip.

Loud noises and crowded places are a big fuck no. Any loud bang causes him to flinch and his eyes to twitch. Crowds leave too much room for error. When he’s with you, he will not be out into a position where he can’t protect you. If that means you don’t go to concerts or clubbing so be it.

Your blood will not stain his hands.

Physical touch is difficult for him. He has to work his way up to it. It starts with small gestures like brushing his hand against yours when you’re walking or when you’re siting down. It eventually goes to holding your fingers (not your whole hand) and gripping your knee when he’s driving. After some time he’s able to keep his hand on the small of your back while also kissing the top of your head. However do not ask this man to kiss you in when you’re around the others. He will spontaneously combust at the mere thought of them seeing him be Simon and not Ghost.

He tries therapy but at a certain point, it doesn’t seem to help. Consistency is key and he doesn’t exactly have that with his job. The other issue is that therapy is not a cure. It is a managing tool. It will not ‘fix’ whatever you feel is broken. It can help repair what needs to be mended and it’s done that for Simon. He’s repaired all that he can but the long term effects of his trauma are here to stay. He’s not going to like going out. He’s not going to be comfortable with touch. His sleeping habits will be different until he finally shuffles off this mortal coil. He’s going to be harsh and abrasive to most. He’s going to be Ghost most of the time.

He’s going to be all that is he now because it’s who he is…and you love him for it.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

[suzukiblu]

WIP guessing game: "Robin"

Superboy has existed for about six months at best (five months, two weeks, and six days, but who's creepily spying on their fellow heroes and vigilantes? not Tim, for sure) and was created in a lab full of extremely niche genetic experiments whose creators very rarely bothered making look human, which is probably why he has some weird ideas about certain social norms.

Tim assumes that's why the guy just decided to drop a very annoyed Catwoman on him out of nowhere, anyway.

"The fuck?" he says, though through his vocoder it comes out more like the incoherent screeching of the damned. That being, well, the whole purpose of the vocoder and all. Superboy grins down at him from the nighttime sky all bright and sunny and weirdly adorable, for being a lab-grown weapon and a guy who is technically capable of disassembling Tim down to his individual atoms with, like, a touch and about two seconds' worth of thought.

Not that Tim has been creepily spying on anyone or said anyone's Cadmus files, again.

Also Superboy might not even know he can do that yet, so it's really not a smart thing to mention right now.

"Hey, man!" Superboy greets cheerfully. "She was breaking into that big museum a couple blocks over, figured you'd care about that. As opposed to, like, breaking into some rich asshole with insurance's penthouse. Figured you would not have cared about that."

"The museum also has insurance, for the record," Selina informs him sourly as she makes an art of getting off her unceremoniously roof-dumped ass while looking like being on this roof was her idea to begin with. Because, like: Selina. "And has not properly sourced the artifacts in their new Bast exhibit."

I know, that's why I was on my way to the museum to keep an eye out for you, is what Tim does not say, since Robin is supposed to be a splintered aspect of a mysterious all-knowing city spirit given human form and not just, like, a really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman.

What he does do is jerkily cock his head and say, "Preyyyyy?", and let his vocoder horribly mangle the word into a sound usually best described as "unholy avian screeching". Superboy beams, which is not a normal reaction to hearing Robin's voice. Selina just rolls her eyes, but Selina of course knows about the whole "really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman" thing.

Like she's never summoned the Batman for anything, geez. Or "Bruce", as an eight year-old Dick Grayson had once upon a time decided to randomly dub him. Tim still can't call the eternal and unsleeping eldritch protector of their city that without feeling like he's going to spontaneously combust, but it is in fact a thing that the Batman will answer to.

Might as well call Pennyworth "Alfie", though.

Jason was even worse at names than Dick, Tim is pretty sure.

"Yeah!" Superboy says, sounding still more cheerful and floating down the rest of the way to the roof to land lightly in front of Tim. Selina eyes him in a way that would end very badly for anyone who was not functionally invulnerable. "I mean, she seems cool and all but I dunno, figured the Bat wasn't big on Cats in his territory. And also the criming. Definitely also the criming."

"How . . . find Robin?" Tim asks. Superboy doesn't have enhanced senses, as far as he knows, so . . .

"Oh, I've been stalking you," Superboy explains. Tim blinks behind his unblinking mask and feels several ways about that statement. "That's what you Bats all do when you're interested in somebody, right? So I figured you'd like it if I did it back."

. . . Tim feels several ways about that statement.

[7ndipity]

Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

[rahleeyah]

When Olivia is with Brian we see her laying on him in public, pushing herself underneath his arm so he'll hold her in the kitchen, snuggling with him on the couch. When she's with David we see her wearing his shirt, nuzzling all over him. She kisses Tucker's hands in public. She is tactile in a relationship (and she let Brian, at least, call her babe) and more than that she seeks it out. She initiates touch, she wants to touch and be touched, she wants to be held, wants to be close. And for thirteen years she never really touched Elliot; he reaches for her neck but when does she touch him? A brush on his arm to get his attention, checking him over when he's injured - you can only hold him when he's dying - but he initiates their first hug and their second hug is sort of mutual and what else is there? From her side? She does not ask him for that comfort (though he does offer it without being asked). Not from him.

And then he comes back and she is holding his hand at occb when Kathy is barely cold?? Olivia being the one to reach for his hand is monumental, not just because they're touching, not just bc it's sweet, but bc Olivia is behaving with Elliot the way she behaves with men she's romantically attached to - she is reaching for him, physically and emotionally. She's being vulnerable with him by exposing the soft, tender part of herself that longs for that touch, that comfort. And she keeps doing it! They keep hiding it out of frame but she's grabbing his hand in the intervention, for example. Like just at the edge of our vision, she is holding on to him. Reaching for him.

The day she slides up close to him and pushes herself under his arm like a housecat looking for snuggles is the day I will spontaneously combust and I'm telling you fam I think it's coming

[babysfirstfic]

live now, think later (part 2)

luke hughes x fem!reader

[part 1]

word count: 2.9k

summary: Luke's night out takes a devilish turn when he brings a beautiful stranger into his hotel room.

warnings (18+): Pure smut and filth. Occasional plot. Relatively tame. Dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penetration, brief mentions of fingering.

a/n: This was so fun to write. Thanks to everyone who sent feedback on the first part and to all my lovely proofreaders. Y'all know who you are. Enjoy <3

Your kiss with Luke lasted for a couple minutes. Hours? Lifetimes? You had no clue. It’s fair to say that when you have a boy as cute and as sure as Luke in your grasp the standard metrics of human time-keeping tend to lose their meaning. 

When Luke finally broke away from the kiss to open the door, your entire body radiated with a raw aching sensation. The feeling verged on sadness; your lips stung with a jagged lack of fulfillment. You were only satiated by the idea that the entire world, a world that belonged to you and Luke alone, was waiting just beyond the threshold.

Luke pulled a flat, rectangular hotel key out of his pocket, reaching around you to unlock the door. He rested his other hand near your head, leaning in, so that only millimeters separated you. Every hair on your body stood up, triggered by the invisible currents of heat and electricity that raced through the spaces in between, between your bodies, your lips, your legs. 

One thing was abundantly clear: you needed this boy and you needed him now.

After a few moments of clumsily attempting to use the hotel key, Luke finally managed to stick it into the thin opening and unlock the door. You hoped that this wasn’t foreshadowing the night ahead, barely stifling a laugh as you thought about it. Your mind was so far in the gutter, it was in danger of getting permanently stuck there.

“What’s so funny?” Luke smirked, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you towards him, letting the door shut behind you as you crossed the boundary of the room. 

“I just didn’t realize you were so uncoordinated,” you replied as your fingers traced circles on his forearms.

His face contorted into a look that was equal parts disbelief and indignation. “Me? Uncoordinated?” he scoffed. You were taking a bit too much pleasure in watching him squirm as your words washed over him.

Being the youngest in his family and one of the youngest on his team, he was used to having to be on the defensive all the time. There wasn’t a moment that he wasn’t being teased, and as a result, his guard was always up. 

But seeing that you were barely keeping it together, he released the tension in his shoulders and began to lean into the joke. “I guess that just means you don’t know me well enough,” he said, having regained his usual smirk. 

Grabbing hold of his shoulders to stabilize yourself, you stood on your tiptoes and pulled him towards you. “Then prove it,” you said into his ear, your tone just barely above a whisper. “Show me who you really are.” 

These words sent shock waves through Luke’s body. You were a complete stranger, yet you already seemed to know what buttons to push to drive him wild. “Am I that easy to figure out?” Luke wondered to himself. 

But he didn’t give that thought much airtime. He had a job to do. 

Luke placed his hands on your hips, guiding you to the wall. His touch was firm, the soft pressure of his thumbs welcomed by the curves in your hips. You felt your heartbeat increase, all the blood in your body seeming to head to the same place. If Luke were to move his hands any lower, you feared that the friction might cause you to spontaneously combust, yet there was nothing you craved more. 

Now at the wall, Luke moved his hands to your face, initiating a series of kisses that you happily accepted, coming up for air briefly to utter two simple words, “Challenge accepted.” 

And with those words, the fun really began. You were swept up into Luke’s whirlwind, his gaze, his kisses, his touch. Within seconds you found yourself on the bed, lying on your back as Luke kneeled above you, his shirt somehow already finding its way to the floor. 

“So impatient!” you teased, leaning in close as you sat up to meet his gaze. 

You let your fingers trail down his bare chest, taking your time as you reached his nipples and the contours of his abdomen, spurred on by the slight gasps and moans that were leaving Luke’s lips. There was a sense of restraint in his voice, like he didn’t want to reveal just how desperate he was to get you under him. 

“Hey!” Luke said, finally getting a chance to respond now that you had finished your physical examination. “I’m just showing you who…I…really…am.” He moved closer as he spoke, putting an emphasis on each individual word. 

You found this infuriatingly attractive, the way he could use your own words against you. Someone had crossed the wires of passion in your brain, leaving you throbbing with a confused mix of rage and longing. 

Yet, seeing just how restrained Luke had been, you attempted to match his energy, taking pleasure in the steady rapport you’d already managed to establish. 

“Oh really?” you replied, feigning disinterest. “Is that all you got?” 

Your words were met with a sharp exhale from Luke, as he shook his head and bit his lip. “You shouldn’t have said that,” he smirked, his mind racing with ideas before finally settling on a plan of action. 

“Raise your arms,” he commanded, the corners of his lips curling up slightly. His voice was firm, but his face betrayed him, revealing the playfulness that had underlined your entire interaction. 

Luke tucked his fingers under your top, slowly pushing it up and over your head. His forefingers softly grazed the sides of your waist as they went, leaving a trail of goosebumps along every inch of skin they travelled. If ever there was a day you were grateful for not wearing a bra, it was this one.

Now it was Luke’s turn to take you in. And based on the way his eyes kept flitting back and forth between your breasts, you figured he liked what he saw. 

Your guess was confirmed seconds later, when Luke began gently kissing your shoulders, working his way across your neck, down your collarbones, to your breasts, which were increasingly swollen and sensitive. It was as if he was afraid to miss a spot, like he wanted each section of exposed skin to feel equally appreciated. 

You felt more than appreciated as his tongue drew circles around your nipples. You could feel his smile against your chest as you let out a soft moan of approval. 

He then moved back up to your mouth as he laid you down on the bed, spreading your legs so that he could fit himself neatly between them. As the kisses became more intense, so did the steady movement of your hips, the now familiar friction of Luke’s bulge exposing the feelings he’d been trying to hide. Though it was satisfying, you craved more. 

“I’m ready,” you announced after several minutes of passionate kisses and feeling him grow harder between your legs. Luke knew instantly what you meant. 

The trail of kisses that had begun at your shoulders continued downwards until they reached the roadblock that was your black denim jeans. 

You started to undo your belt, before being placated by Luke’s gentle touch. “Let me,” he insisted.

With a quick “sure," you laid back, communicating your surprise and your excitement at the offer. You suddenly felt that you were in no position to argue. 

Luke then undid your belt and began shimmying your pants off. It was goofy and awkward, but you’d found a rhythm together which allowed you to laugh at yourselves. It was probably what made you feel so comfortable with Luke; he was confident, yet attentive, and above all that, he wasn’t afraid to lean into how silly it was to be doing this together. You were both sharing such an intimate moment with a stranger, though that term had increasingly lost its relevance as the night progressed. 

After giggling your way through taking off the remainder of your clothes, you both took a moment to look at each other, your gazes travelling up and down before locking eyes.

“Are you sure you’re re-?” Luke began, before being interrupted by an “absolutely” that left your lips before you even had time to realize what you were saying. Not your smoothest moment, but you were so far past the point of caring. 

With a shake of his head and a smile, Luke kneeled down at the foot of the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you towards him before re-engaging his plan of attack. Focusing his attention on your right side, he planted kisses on your ankle, travelling upwards along the inside of your leg, letting his lips guide the way and allowing your legs to rest on his shoulders as he got closer. You were practically squirming with impatience, gripping the bed sheets in an attempt to hold yourself in place. It felt like Luke was going at a snail’s pace, drawing out the build up as a way to taunt you. It worked; your core was ablaze, your essence slick with desire, and despite your initial efforts to keep it contained, your craving was becoming increasingly apparent. 

Finally reaching the spot which had been throbbing consistently since you’d met him, Luke looked up, his tongue gliding across his teeth as he realized how much you were struggling against his touch. “And I thought I was impatient,” he teased. “Just show me what you want, babe. No more games.” 

You were still holding fast to the bed sheets when Luke reached up, bringing your hands to the bouncing curls which fell casually across the top of his head. Taking this as your cue, you applied enough pressure to encourage Luke to lean forward. The initial shock that had come with skin-to-skin contact was nothing in comparison to this moment, the moment in which Luke’s tongue finally found that which it had been silently crying out for all evening. 

As he applied gentle pressure to your clit, his progress was informed by the reeling of your hips and the steady grip you maintained on his hair. Truthfully, you were just happy to have something to hold on to. 

“You’re doing so well,” Luke murmured. You briefly considered responding with “thanks” or “I know,” but decided against it. Opting to reciprocate his praise, you landed on “So are you,” and that seemed to satisfy him. 

Every pretense had long fallen. While mere minutes before you’d both been restrained, limiting your displays of arousal, you were now anything but. As the pressure on your swollen mound became more pronounced, you made no attempt to quiet the moans and gasps that freely left your lips. This only encouraged Luke, slowly revealing his true nature with each pass of his tongue. 

His entire life, he’d had one goal: make it to the show, live the dream. His tireless pursuit of this dream had made him nothing if not dedicated. He got used to knowing what he wanted and chasing it. And right now, all he wanted was to see your hips buckle under his touch, to taste your desire as it spilled out of you, to make you moan so loud that you started getting noise complaints. 

He soon got his wish. The consistent pressure on your clit, each movement guided by a gentle tug on his hair, became too much for you to bear. Your body surrendered to the waves of pleasure that emanated from the centre of your universe. The force was so strong that it sent you flying forward, your momentum only stopped by Luke’s grasp on your hips. You allowed your body to drape over his, as he welcomed your release and everything that came with it. 

After a few moments of heavy breathing from both of you, you finally broke the silence, “Do you have protection?” This was your way of saying, “I need you inside me. Now.”

You sat up and were met with yet another lopsided grin, telling you everything you needed to know. 

Gently removing your legs from his shoulders, Luke reached into the front pocket of the jeans that had never left his body, removing his wallet. He revealed a blue wrapper housed safely in one of the sleeves. 

As Luke stood up, you noticed that he was practically bursting out of his jeans; he was seemingly just as aroused as you had been by your previous rendezvous. 

Luke removed what was left of his clothes and made his way to the bed. Just as he was starting to put on the condom and climb on top of you, you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Let me,” you teased, maybe a little too pleased with your callback. 

“Hey,” Luke said, throwing his arms up, “Be my guest”. Now it was his turn to take his hands off the wheel and enjoy the ride. 

Having guided him onto his back, you straddled him as you began opening the condom, checking in with him each step of the way. Once you received several yeses, some more desperate than others, you began rolling it down his shaft. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched his head cock backwards reflexively, his dick sensitive to the slightest touch after having been neglected for so long. 

After you reached the bottom of the shaft, Luke grabbed your hips, waiting for one more “yes”, this time coming from your lips. You gave it to him, sounding just as desperate as he had just minutes before. 

Once he was inside, you began pumping your hips up and down. It was like dancing together at the bar; with you taking the lead, Luke happily followed suit as you established a comfortable rhythm. Each thrust felt better than the next, waves of heat radiating outwards from the point of insertion. 

“Is this okay?” you asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Luke managed to grunt in between a series of sharp exhales, letting you know that he was having just as good a time as you were. “You feel so good, babe.”

It was the feeling he’d been craving, sharing a moment with someone who didn’t care who he was and who only ever took as much as they gave. And as Luke watched you ride him, your precision and stamina like that of a trained athlete, he thought it was a pretty good deal. 

Each moment saw you moving ever closer to the mountain’s peak, so you decided to give yourself a hand, slowly massaging yourself as you continued your steady rhythm. You refused to leave any stone unturned, any orgasm unreached. 

Watching you get off on top of him only stoked the fire within Luke. He now began pumping upwards with force, the pressure in his stomach increasing with each movement, his core shivering every time he touched your back wall. 

After several thrusts and a few minutes of deep massage, Luke felt himself in desperate need of relief. The pressure, the heat, the tension, he was no longer able to hold back, and with one final push, it all came spilling out of him at once. You welcomed his spasms, feeling his fingers digging into your waist as he bucked his hips. 

In any other circumstance, this would have ended the interaction, both of you having now achieved your release. You had gotten used to the one-and-done nature of the one night stand. On most nights, you felt grateful to avoid the awkwardness of the morning after and never wished to prolong things past what they deserved. But there was something, maybe your still throbbing core or your growing fondness for the stranger who was now in the bathroom, that made you want to stay. 

As Luke emerged from the other room, he was slightly shocked to see you were still there. He’d never had a late night encounter last so long, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit relieved to see you were still perched on the bed where he’d left you.

“Hey,” you offered. You were unsure if you and Luke were on the same page and a little afraid to know the answer. 

“Hi,” he responded, a gentle smile growing on his face. You hoped beyond hope that his grin meant what you thought it did. 

You couldn’t even properly describe what you were feeling at that moment. You weren’t the type to get nervous around people, especially not strangers who you’d never see again. But there was a gnawing sensation in your stomach that you couldn’t quite place and certainly weren’t ready to come to terms with. 

“So uh…” you began, “am I gonna have to enjoy my own company the rest of the night or…” You let yourself trail off, not knowing what you’d do if he said yes. 

But with those words, Luke realized you had more in you, and never a man to leave unfinished business, he shook his head and moved in your direction. 

“Only if you let me enjoy it with you,” Luke said as he climbed onto the bed, his words affecting you more than you’d like. 

After a brief exchange which confirmed that you were indeed on the same page, Luke leaned over and began reaching his hand between your legs.

You suddenly had the strangest feeling that this was only the beginning.

[yxtubers]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: chris loves seeing you in his clothes. he grows flustered upon seeing you wear his sweater - the problem? you’re just friends

warnings/notes: none! lmk if i missed anything

requested?: yes!! tysm for all these requests :)

> > >

You were over at Chris’ apartment for what felt like the hundredth time this week. The weather had been less than ideal in LA lately, so he suggested that you two do something fun with Nick and Matt at their house.

You would never turn down such an offer so, of course, you agreed to come over.

Which led you to where you were now.

Chris had his arm draped across the couch behind you. At the beginning you had tried to not pay too much attention to it, but as time went on you began to find it harder to breathe.

It felt like his body heat was transferring onto you, each breath of air he took was louder than it should’ve been. Your senses were extremely hyper-aware at this point.

“I’m gonna go get some water, does anyone want anything?” you asked.

In truth you knew you needed to be away from him before you spontaneously combusted. You liked being near him - but the fact that his arm was so close to you, but not quite touching you, was driving you insane.

“No, I’m okay,” said Matt. Nick and Chris agreed.

Sitting up, you made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t actually realized how thirsty you were, but now that you were drinking water, you finally noticed. Taking big gulps, you accidentally tilted the cup too hard and spilt it all over yourself.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumbled, huffing in annoyance.

Chris turned his head towards the kitchen. He stood up almost immediately and walked towards you.

“Are you okay?” he said as he saw you. Once he realized he let out a silent ‘oh’. You knew he was trying to stifle a laugh, but upon seeing your death glare, a serious look took over his face.

He knew better than to laugh when you were annoyed.

“Come on. I’ll get you one of my shirts,” Chris suggested.

He motioned for you to follow him as you walked after him, hot on his heels. You hated the feeling of being wet, especially when your clothes stuck to you.

Chris rummaged through his drawer as he pulled out a sweatshirt of his. It was one of his oversized ones, which was good for you. You loved being cozy on the couch, so this was perfect.

You thanked him as you watched him leave the room to let you get changed.

Pulling the cotton over your head, you breathed in it’s scent. Something about Chris’ natural smell always comforted you.

“I’m done!” you said as you balled your wet shirt up into a ball. “Where should I put my shirt?”

Chris gently opened the door, fully not expecting his breath to be taken away at the sight of you in his clothes. The words seemed to catch in his throat as he stared at you. His eyes trailed down from your neck to your waist, eyes twinkling in delight.

He couldn’t help but think that he should give you his sweaters more often.

“Oh wow,” he breathed out.

Your face grew hot under his stare. He began to make his way towards you, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. His hands found yours, interlocking your fingers. The look he had on his face almost made your knees weak.

The blue in his eyes met your own colored irises. You locked pupils, barely breaking the contact. Chris noticed the flustered state you were in, and he moved towards you a bit more.

His fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What? You nervous?” he said, his lips quirking upwards. What a cocky bastard.

You rolled your eyes, shoving him backwards.

“You wish.”

His eyes trailed down your face. The movement was so quick that you almost didn’t notice it, but his gaze landed on your lips. Just for a split moment.

You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, lightly pushing him against the door.

His breath hitched. And you knew you got him.

“Well, look who’s nervous now,” you said.

Pushing off of him, you pulled the handle on his bedroom door, forcing Chris away from the exit.

You could feel his eyes on you as you walked back into the living room. It’s safe to say that he practically sprinted back in there, before finally wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

[myseungsunglove]

You’re gonna Pay for that | Ksm

Characters: Seungmin x Reader, Reader’s parents briefly

Warnings: Smut, there is ZERO plot here, a little bit of voyeurism but not REALLY, oral (male and female receiving), language

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: this is just a random, all smut, no plot Seungmin story. If you’re looking for any substance, it’s not here.

「© February 16, 2023 by myseungsungheart」

-MDNI-

During dinner, with your damn parents, Seungmin had gotten you nine kinds of worked up. He had done it on purpose, teasing you with his large hands, pulling your petite hands into his lap to feel his growing erection. To feel exactly what you were doing to him. All the while, your parents sat across from you at the dinner table talking away.

You had agreed to visit your parents since you were on tour in the States and only about an hour’s drive or so from your most recent stop in Dallas. The rest of the boys had decided to piddle around Dallas while you and Seungmin spent an evening with your parents. They insisted on the two of you staying the night because you, and I quote, “never spent any time with them since you lived in South Korea now.”

“And we’ll even be cool with the two of you sharing a room,” your mom laughs, earning a glare from your dad.

“Mom, I’m a grown woman. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t do anything about it if you wanted to,” you snark with a small smile, your eyes meeting Seungmin’s briefly.

“My roof. My rules,” your dad chimes in as Seungmin’s hand runs up the inside of your thigh.

Instead of spontaneously combusting, You stand hastily, walking over to your dad and kissing him on the cheek, desperate to get away from Seungmin’s touch while you are in front of your parents.

“Love you, daddy,” you giggle innocently.

“You’ll always be my little pumpkin,” he sighs. “You’d do well to remember that son,” he adds, his words aimed at Seungmin.

“Yes sir,” Seungmin smiles and bows politely. Always the picture of perfection.

“I’m beat, guys,” you note, stretching up on your toes, your hands extending above your head so that your stomach was on display. “Seungie, we should probably get some rest,” you suggest, walking back to his side of the table and threading his long fingers with yours. “This is one of the rare opportunities we will have to just exist while we are in the US.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin yawns dramatically. “I’m definitely exhausted after the trip,” he agrees. You pull him from his chair and drag him down the hall.

“G’night you two,” your mom sing-songs down the hall. You have to stifle the giggle that is rising in your throat.

You push Seungmin through the bedroom door, into the room that you spent the first eighteen years of your life. He lets out an airy chuckle at the way you manhandle him.

“Did someone get a little worked up back there?” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a teasing kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Dude,” you let out in a huff, your head falling against his shoulder. “In front of my parents?”

He chuckles lightly against your skin, a teasing smile dawning on his face as he turns you in his hold, his lips finding yours at last, a slow sensual kiss igniting between you that sends goosebumps breaking out across your skin, his hands pushing your shirt over your head and tossing it carelessly into the corner.

“Makes it more exciting,” he teases as he relieves you of your bra and leans down to suck your hardened nub into his mouth, his hands caressing your sides lovingly, reverently as he tends to the task at hand.

When you feel a moan rising in your throat, you push him away gently, and he falls gracefully onto the full sized bed in the middle of the room.

“You’re gonna pay for that, Min,” you warn, falling to your knees in front of him, your hands running up his muscled thighs, the thighs you loved to ride just to get off. But that would have to wait. Your fingers dance at the button of his jeans as you gaze into his eyes. He is staring at you intently, his eyes blown with lust, zeroing in on you as you slowly unbutton his jeans.

“Do your worst, Y/N,” he challenges.

You hastily unzip his jeans and peel them away from his smooth skin, letting them pool around his ankles. You run your hands up his delicious thighs, your hand coming to rest over his cloth covered erection, stroking him slowly. He watches you intently, but the second you pull his briefs away from his aching cock, he throws his head back in ecstasy, your gaze causing it to raise to attention. He puffs his cute cheeks out and lets out the air filling them, his black hair blowing against his forehead as your hand slides around his long, smooth cock.

You are mesmerized by the way it feels in your hand. No matter how many times you have done this, you can’t look away. And you just have to taste him.

Seungmin watches as you lower your lips to the tip of his cock at a glacial pace. Finally, your tongue flicks out, running over his slit, swirling around the head. You could feel his legs tense beneath you as you lower your mouth onto his long, thick cock.

The weight of his dick on your tongue is enough to send a rush of desire flooding through you. It is a heady sensation you’ll never get used to.

“Now this is what I call desert,” you moan as you bob up and down, your tongue licking at the underside of his cock as you lift off him, only to sink back down so that he slides halfway down your throat. You choke slightly, your throat constricting around his substantial length.

Seungmin’s hands finds your hair then, holding you in place while his hips do the work. He pumps into your mouth, his cock sliding down your throat roughly, his grip on you possessive.

“Fuck,” he groans as you began to cup his balls, spit dripping out around his cock and your hands as you fondle him.

“Come on my tits, Seungie,” you gasp as you pull off of him with a plop. He snarls as he slaps his heavy cock between your breasts as you squeeze them around his member, his hips pistoning with abandon. You lean in to lick the tip of his cock with each thrust and before you know it, he is done for. You lick up what you can reach as his pace slows, the look on his face pure carnal bliss.

He reaches out for your hand, pulling you up gently to rest in his lap.

“Someone is wearing too many clothes,” he whispers against your mouth as he flips you on your back and kisses you hard. He fiddles with your jeans button and zipper before forgoing the annoyance and ripping your jeans and underwear off of you in one swift motion.

“It’s my turn for dessert,” he whispers, his mouth hovering over the lips of your pussy, his breath hot.

You spread your legs wider, opening yourself to him.

“Enjoy. There is plenty more where that came from,” you manage, your head falling back against the pillow with a pleasure filled sigh as he kisses your clit reverently.

There was a knock at the door then and your breath catches in your throat.

“We’re changing; about to get in bed,” you call out as steadily as you can. Seungmin rumbles against your pussy, his tongue licking you from bottom to top.

“Oh okay. Just wanted to say goodnight,” your mom’s voice rings out from the other side of the door.

“Okay, good night,” you squeak out as Seungmin’s tongue dips into your hole.You slap your hand over your mouth as he sucks on your clit, two long fingers replacing his tongue inside you.

You hear your mom walk away and you slap him on the shoulder, earning you a low, devious chuckle from him that rumbles through your body.

“Fuck you, Min,” you breathe heavily, your brain going fuzzy as the coil in your stomach begins to wind tight.

“That’s the idea,” he snarks, his fingers curling into your g-spot.

“Shit, Seungie,” you moan. “I’m gonna come.”

Seungmin takes that as a challenge, grabbing your ass and pulling your dripping cunt closer to his mouth as he starts to move his head from side to side. You lose it the minute his tongue makes contact with your clit, your legs boxing in his head as you bite down on your pillow to stifle the scream that wants to tear from your throat.

While you are still a quivering mess, Seungmin crawls up your body, kissing you slow and sweet, the taste of your release still on his lips as he rolls his hips teasingly against yours, causing you to quake in pleasure, like a live wire ready to send volts of pleasure through your body at any second.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, running his hard cock through your soaked folds, teasing your clit, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably. “Cause I know I am,” he growls as he slides home, your warmth enveloping his cock, inviting him in. “Hold on tight, beautiful. You aren’t gonna know what hit you,” he warns as he pulls his cock out of you and slams back in without warning, knocking the air from your lungs as he rips his polo over his broad shoulders.

“Fuck,” you moan, reaching out to make contact with the beautiful expanse of skin that has just been revealed to you as he pounds you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and take every inch of him he gives.

You could now officially mark fucking Kim Seungmin in your childhood room off your bucket list. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be the only time tonight it happened.

Not if Seungmin had a say. And Kim Seungmin always had the final say.