#either that or i have to ask someone how to get it .. that’s so embarrassing though . hello can you pleease help me illegally acquire
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Requesting sylus hurt/comfort where Sylus confessed his feelings to the reader but gets rejected (at first) cause reader thinks he either lost a bet or is doing this for a dare cause she had people do that to her before (this has happened to me like 4 times oml💀). How would he react to finding out what happened and reassuring her that he's sincere?
when he confesses & you think it’s a joke
Sylus stood in front of you, his usual confidence softened, as he finally let out the words you’d both been dancing around for so long. “I’m saying I… I want this. You and me.”
You blinked, processing his words before a small, disbelieving laugh slipped out. “Good one, Sylus. Where’s the cameras?” You even glanced around the room, expecting someone to jump out with a punchline. His expression faltered, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of your reaction.
“sweetie,you think I’m joking?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and a hint of hurt. “I’m serious.” He stepped closer, searching your face.
When you saw the intensity in his eyes, your smile faded and a pang of guilt twisted in your chest. “Wait, you’re… really serious?” He nodded, and you felt a wave of embarrassment. “I… I’m sorry. I just thought… I mean, someone once did this to me as a joke said they wanted to be with me and then laughed about it.”
Sylus’s eyes darkened, a mixture of disbelief and anger flickering across his face. “Someone actually played with your feelings like that?” He shook his head, jaw tense. “Guess I’ll have to show you how real I am about this.” He lifted your chin, his gaze steady and full of a warmth that left no room for doubt.
As the truth settled in, you felt your face flush and he smirked, a hint of his usual teasing tone returning. “Next time, you’ll know better than to question me.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, adding softly, “And I promise, I’ll never make you feel like it’s a joke.”
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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a crumb of nsfw daisuke?
daisuke x reader | headcanons
requests/inbox: open
[ 🔞 minors dni ]
woah. from sweet to spicy. ill give this a try!
wrote this on mobile, sorry for the fuckass formatting.
gender neutral reader. sillies. lots of sillies. weed mention (like once).
🌺 sillies, even when it comes to sex!
🌺 c'mon, he somehow sneaked in some of his secret stash'a magazines. he's still a guy after all.
"Dai?"
"Yeah?" He's busy on his Gameboy, but he acknowledges you, tilting his body to show his face but his eyes were glued to the screen.
"Did you steal these porn mags from Jimmy or someth—"
A pink blur suddenly pushes you away, using his feet to kick it back under his bed.
"DUDE. PRIVACY. C'MON NOW."
🌺 You've probably caught him once or twice even before you two were a thing. It wasn't hard to, after all, you both shared a room.
Too lost in the sauce to even notice you, so you had to clear your throat. You've never seen someone so shocked to the point he doesn't know whether to shove his dick back in his pants, hide under the blankets, or try to do both at the same time but completely failing. He's stuttering your name out along with strings of apologies. Don't get your dick caught in your zipper now, Daisuke.
"I didn't know you were there! Shitshitshit- I'm so so sorry- Aghhhh." He felt pathetic, whining in embarrassment. Daisuke ends up just pulling the blanket over the entirety of him.
"You could've just asked me for help, y'know." He stares at you, scandalized as if he wasn't rubbing one off just moments ago.
"How the fuck was I s'posed to know?!"
You shrug, amused. "Dunno."
"Man, fuck youuuu."
"Happily."
"Get over here already, please!"
🌺 Outside internship though? Weed before sex seems like something he'd do. I can't explain why.
🌺 Feeling his rings on you... in many ways.
🌺 Pretty sure we all agree that he's into praising. Both giving and receiving.
🌺 You know he's having lots of fun when the pitch of his voice goes high. Squeaking, voice cracking, whining.
🌺 Speaking of how vocal he is, he's probably loud too. But, since you're in the ship now, he'll try his best to keep it down, either on the pillow or you. He'll also be rambling about random things just so he doesn't finish early.
🌺 Dirty talking? ❌ He'll be cringing like there's no tomorrow. He'll make a discord (or whatever equivalent) kitten joke about it if he does.
🌺 Unintentional dirty talking though... That's another story. Or should I rephrase, more-so leaning towards cussing.
"Fuck— you're sosososo pretty..." His hands were pressing the back of your knees, folding and spreading your legs for him. He whines your name out, resting his length on your abdomen while he impatiently waits for your permission. "C'mon, pretty. I'll be this deep inside you."
-
"Feels good. Feels so good." He's panting and rutting into you like a dog. "You should- nh- loosen up a little- shit- if you get any tighter I think I'll cum..."
🌺 Quickies galore. Sure, it's less risky, but with his libido? Anyways, he's pretty easy to please anyways. A round or two would probably be enough for him.
🌺 Wearing his clothes while at it? Mega turn on for him.
🌺 Well, yes his libido is high, but you still need to be straightforward with him. He can't take hints...
"Want head?"
"?!? Who's head?!"
"YOUR DICK."
"YOU'RE CUTTING IT OFF?"
"WHAT? NO, I MEANT SUCKING YOUR—"
"Good morning to you both too."
"CAPTAIN?"
🌺 He loves giving and receiving hickeys. You would have to remind him everytime not to mark too high on your neck.
🌺 His aftercare involves lots of cuddling and lots of smooching.
🌺 Ending with a silly note. The first time you've done it with him, he ended up saying thank you since he didn't know what to do.
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I Hate You, I Love You- part 2
Part 1.
Summary: You swallow your pride and ask Melissa to do you the favor of a lifetime.
WC: ~2.5k
Monday morning comes all too soon for you. Today is the day that you have to swallow all of your pride and your hatred for the redheaded woman and all but beg her to pretend to be your faux girlfriend for the holidays.
You’re sitting at your desk trying to grade the last few spelling tests you skipped out on over the weekend when you hear her make her way in, keys jingling and boots clanking against the tile loudly. God- you do not want to do this. But it’s now, or it’s in the staff lounge with everybody watching and listening in. So, you stand from your desk, run your fingers through your hair nervously, and make your way over to her door.
Her back is turned to you, she’s leaning over to put her bags on the ground, and… damn. Her figure is insane. You take a few silent moments to appreciate it without her being aware that you’re there. Quietly, you knock on her doorframe and lean against it, arms crossed over your chest. Are you pushing your breasts up just the slightest bit? Maybe. If you have to swallow your pride and nearly die of embarrassment, you might as well look hot doing it.
She turns just her top half, still leaning over, and you have the perfect view of her… Shit. Stop looking.
“What could you possibly need right now?” She huffs out. “It’s freakin’ Monday at 7:30.”
You harden at the greeting she’s given you. “Trust me,” you roll your eyes. “I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do. But, I got to talk to you. Alone.”
“Oh?” The redhead raises her brow and sits in her seat before looking at you confused. “Come to finally tell me that you’re-”
“I need a favor,” you sigh. “Like, a really big one.”
“I can’t get you outta a ticket,” Melissa snorts. “You know that.”
“I don’t need that. I need… I need you to…” Just fucking say it. “I need you to pretend to my girlfriend over the holidays.”
Her jaw drops. It’s clear that’s not what she was expecting you to say in the slightest. “What?”
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend over the holidays, and before you shoot me down, at least let me give you the sob story and think about it. Please?”
She begins howling with laughter. “Sure, let’s hear it.”
You explain what had happened on Saturday, and you hate the way that she’s getting such pleasure out of your misfortune. “And they all mentioned something about it yesterday as I was leaving too, so I know I can’t get out of embarrassment either way- having you there somehow seems like the better option.”
“Why’d you say my name?” your colleague asks, and it’s clear she genuinely wants to know. But then she gives you that ridiculous smirk again. “Is it because you know I’m the hottest person you could think of?”
“Please,” you snort. “I was going through the list of single people I knew in my head, and I knew I couldn’t say someone that my mom already knew… unfortunately, your name came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And now they know what you look like, so it’s not like I can ask anyone else to pretend to be you. But you wish I thought you were hot.”
That’s a bluff. You think she’s hot as hell, but she can’t know that. And what you don’t know is that Melissa wishes you didn’t hate her the way that you do, and she wishes that she didn’t have to pretend to hate you to get your attention.
“What’s in it for me?” she chooses to ask.
You roll your eyes. “My mom’s cooking, and you get out of having to deal with Kristen Marie on Christmas.”
“And…?”
“A hundred bucks.”
“A hundred bucks a day.”
“No way.”
“How many days are we talkin’?”
“Probably the weekend,” you sigh. “That’s three hundred bucks and an hour car ride there and back; usually stay with them during the holidays so I don’t have to drive back and forth, and if I don’t, they’ll know something’s up.”
“Three hundred bucks,” Melissa states again. She knows she won’t take your money, but she wants to see how desperate you are.
You groan. “Fine.”
“And then what are you gonna tell them after?”
“That we broke up,” you tell her as if it’s obvious. “Trust me. This is just going to be a weekend thing, and then I’ll only have to talk to you at work.”
“Fine. Don’t go fallin’ in love with me, babe,” the redhead winks at you.
You absolutely despise the way that the red creeps into your cheeks. “Don’t worry. That’s the last thing I’ll be doing.”
As the holiday season approaches, your mother continues to pester you about bringing your ‘girlfriend’ around before the actual holiday. Luckily, you can use the excuse that you are extremely busy with your students, as is Melissa. It’s not a lie- you feel like you’re drowning this year. You know your colleague isn’t fairing much better with her students.
But the Friday before winter break starts, exactly a week before you have to make your way back to your parents house, you step into Melissa’s room again early in the morning.
“Come over tonight. We need to figure out all of the details of our relationship so we don’t flop in front of my family next week,” you tell the redhead.
Melissa shakes her head though. “You come to me. Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to your place and eating takeout when I can just make us dinner.”
“Fine.”
“Six. Bring wine.”
After a long day of school with children all too eager to be done for the week, they’re sent home, and you’re able to leave the school for the weekend. You’re looking forward to the last few days of teaching before the break and then Christmas break itself… until you remember that you have to spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the day after with Melissa. God, this is going to suck.
Still, you’re caught in your web of lies, and you know you can’t back out now- not this late in the game. So, at six o’clock, you’re on Melissa’s front stoop, knocking with a few bottles of wine in hand.
When the redhead opens the door, you hate yourself for ogling her. She’s standing there in a tank top and sweatpants, hair knotted up in a messy bun, and covered in flour. “Jesus. I said a bottle, not three.”
“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, and we’re gonna have to be drunk to make this work,” you shrug.
“Red,” is all she says as she steps out of the way to let you in. “Don’t forget that for when you’re getting me wine at your parents.”
You make a mental note of that, and then you make your way in. “I hate you.”
“I know,” is all Melissa responds with. “But it wasn’t me who said we were dating, now was it?”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.” Green eyes bore into your own for a few seconds, clearly challenging you.
You just set your things down on her counter with a scowl.
As much as you hate to say it, her cooking is delightful. The wine pairs well with the food. And you aren’t complaining about the view. Melissa looks… she’s hot as fucking hell, and you’ve caught yourself staring at her rack quite a few times during dinner.
You insist on cleaning up dinner, and she fights you on it. There’s something about it that makes you feel a certain way. It’s almost like you love to hate her.
Before you know it, the two of you are settled on the couch, each with yet another glass on wine in hand, and you’re attempting to hash out your fake love story.
“I told them we’ve been dating for a while,” you sigh. “So… I’m thinking four months? Long enough for you to show up to Christmas, but short enough for them to not know about you.”
“Sure,” she agrees without much of a fight. “I’m assuming we just met through work?”
“I figure the more truthful this lie is, the easier it’ll be to keep up with,” you shrug.
Melissa nods along. “That’s a good plan.”
“The other thing is…” you rub your collarbone nervously. “When I’m in a relationship, I tend to be quite touchy, so we have to- we have to do that.”
The redhead shrugs. “Whatever we have to do in order for me to get my three hundred bucks.”
You spend another two hours learning about each other, drinking wine as you go. She’s learned about your parents, your aunts and uncles, where you went to college, what your favorite color is, what kind of wines and cocktails you prefer, the foods that will be at dinners that you won’t go near, what you like to do in your free time… and in turn, you’ve heard all about her enormous family, how long she’s been at Abbott, how she loves to crochet but never knit, the fact that she has a guitar in her classroom that she doesn’t know how to play other than basic chords, among other things. The two of you agree that Melissa was the one to make the move on you after a happy hour with the work crew. You were the first one to say ‘I love you’, and those at school aren’t aware of the budding relationship between the two of you.
It’s a revealing night, and you find yourself not wanting to beat the shit out of the woman next to you. You would almost venture to say that you’re enjoying you’re time with her- almost.
It’s fairly safe to say when you’re finished going over family trees, your back story, and basic information about each other that you’re both wine drunk. You’ve gone through two bottles, and you’re halfway through the third.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think I’m lettin’ you drive home like this,” your coworker laughs as she watches you attempt to gather your things. “Just stay the night.”
“Like hell I’m doin’ that.”
“You’re gonna have to spend a weekend with me sharing the same bed, in your parents’ house. Get over yourself,” Melissa tells you. “Seriously. Just stay- I got a spare bedroom you can use.”
“Fine.”
The next morning, she’s awake before you and somehow not hungover the way that you are. Melissa’s already left the house actually. She left you a note to make you aware of that.
Had to run out to do some grocery shopping. Don’t miss me too much. She finishes the note with a winking face, and she signs it ‘Mel’.
You roll your eyes, but you pick up the pen before scrawling out, Thanks for letting me stay the night. And then just to fuck with her, you scribble down an ‘xo’. And then you head back to your own apartment, entirely forgetting that you’re still clad in her sweatpants and About shirt.
With a heavy sigh, you shoot her a text. I left, but I forgot I’m wearing your stuff.
Just keep it for now. Bring it when we go to your parents’ house so it looks like you’ve had it for a while.
I hate to say it, but good idea.
I’m full of good ideas, babe.
You spend most of your Saturday nursing a hangover, Sunday is spent preparing things for the final few days of school before Christmas break. With Christmas Eve being on a Friday and Christmas being on a Saturday, that means you have up until Wednesday with your kids. Wednesday is the class holiday party, and you would prefer to have everything set and ready for you to just throw in the trunk of your car come the day of the celebration before you send the kids off.
Then, once your kids are sent off to their parents high on sugar and eager for the break from learning, you’re stuck with the knowledge that you have to spend some of your own retreat with the woman that you love to hate.
“I think we should have dinner again,” Melissa knocks on your door as you’re gathering your belongings. “Come over, I’ll make dinner, and we can go through our story again.”
“I’m bringing the wine?”
Your coworker smirks. “Yeah.”
This dinner ends the exact same way that your last dinner with the redhead did. You’re asleep in Melissa’s guest room dressed in a pair of her sweatpants and an old Abbott tee-shirt.
When you wake up this time around though, Melissa isn’t out. She’s actually downstairs sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.
“The newspaper? Are you serious?” you tease her.
Your colleague just rolls her eyes. “I like having the fine print- reminds me of when my dad used to read it.”
“Well, lucky for you, my parents still get the paper delivered every morning,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how, but they manage it.”
Melissa purses her lips and sips her coffee. “Good to know.”
You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly before sighing. “Well, I’m gonna head out, but I’ll pick you up Friday at ten? My mom likes when I come over early so I can help her set everything up.”
The redhead just nods.
“Thanks for letting me stay the night again,” you say quietly before you grab your bag and leave.
Thursday, you spend most of the day regretting your decision of lying to your parents and aunt and somehow convincing the Melissa Schemmenti to play into your lie. Most of Thursday night is you lying awake and stressing. When you do finally fall asleep, you’re plagued with stress dreams about how this could all go terribly wrong.
All too soon does your alarm go off, you’re hauling your suitcase into the car, and then you’re making your way to Melissa’s house to pick her up.
She’s ready relatively quickly and jumping into your passenger seat in an awfully good mood for someone who has to pretend to be in love with you.
The drive is quiet, and you thank God for that. But then, you’re pulling into your parents’ driveway, and your nerves start to get the best of you. You feel your palms sweating as you don’t loosen your grip on the steering wheel.
Melissa looks to you with her brows furrowed. “Hey.”
“What?” you grit out.
“If you don’t fuck this up, I won’t.” And then she’s out of your car and grabbing both of your bags before she makes her way over to your door and opens it for you.
You raise a brow.
“Your mom is already standing at the front door waiting for us to come in,” she whispers to you. And then for good measure, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “C’mon.”
You tangle your hand with her free one, and then you’re making your way up to the door. You can only pray Melissa isn’t disgusted with your sweaty palms.
You don’t even have to knock before your mother whips open the door, Aunt Jo right behind her, with a grin on her face.
Here goes nothing.
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch
#melissa schemmenti fanfiction#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary fanfic#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you
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Again?
Warnings: mild swearing, fluff.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X F!reader. Previously established relationship
Blurb: you lost your phone and Bucky helps you find it!
“Where is it? where the fuck did I put it?” you mutter to yourself as you look all over your house for your phone “he's gonna kill me!” Pillows were strewn all over the place along with blankets and books in the lounge room. The kitchen had draws half open and cupboard doors half closed. You were a mess, make up half applied hair not even done as you make your way to the bedroom which looked worse than the lounge room and kitchen combine. Clothes all over the floor, your previously made bed looked like 10 people tried to sleep in it and fought over the quilt.
What started this debacle? Well you and Bucky had a date and he told you he would pick you up but you can't remember what time he said. You were half way through getting ready when you second guessed yourself. Your sure he said 7pm but now maybe it's 6:30pm and it's currently 6:15pm. Growling at yourself you realised you can't answer the door looking the way you are. So you quickly finished up your makeup and put on your favourite black dress when you hear a deep voice call out “Doll? Is everything okay?”
“Uh um just a minute” you call out panicked coming out of your room hopping as you put your shoes on.
“What happened? Did someone break in?” Bucky asks concerned looking you over making sure you were okay.
“Um no, please don't be upset I lost my phone again” you say quietly red with embarrassment. You'd lost your phone so often he had threatened to attach an air tag to it or by you a flip phone to ring yourself from. He laughs “again, okay Doll did we retrace our steps?”
“Yes Bucky I did.. 4 times” you dead pan
“Okay, okay” he grins pulling out his own phone and calls yours while you both listen out for it. “It's in the kitchen” he says as you both move closer to the kitchen “Doll, either the fridge has started playing music or that's your ring tone”
You open the fridge and find your phone sitting in place of the cheese when realisation hits you. You got hungry while doing your make up and took your phone with you and accidentally put your phone in the fridge instead of the cheese which was still sitting on the bench. You sigh to yourself and grab your phone and put the cheese away
“How much time do we have before our reservation because I don't wanna leave the house looking like this” you sigh wrapping your arms around his waist
“We have about 30 minutes Doll, you do the lounge room I'll take the kitchen and we can do the bedroom together” he says softly kissing the top of your head and lets you go as he begins closing doors and drawers, while you put the pillows back on the couch and the blankets over the arm of the couch.
You both make your way to your bedroom and your grab all the clothes shoving them in the wardrobe with the shoes while Bucky begins straightening the bed “you ready to go Doll? He asks putting the last pillow in its place
“Yeah let me grab my bag” you say and walk behind the door to grab it “Buck I've lost my phone again” you sigh face palming
He laughs softly “okay I'll cancel the reservation and order take out” you sigh and sit on your bed taking your shoes off and slipping the clip out of your hair. He wraps his arms around you laughing softly “never change doll”
Authors note: Hi everyone I know been awhile since I've written. This story was inspired by me loosing the kitchen bench wipes and talking to a friend and realising I've lost my phone so many times and my fiance just wondering how every single time. My friend did actually lose her phone in the fridge so I thought that was funny! @fandomxo00
#Bucky Barnes divider#bucky barnes#marvel#marvel rp#sister lucifer’s dividers#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#sebstanedit#sebastian stan
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When I’m with you… my body feels different
Choso x reader
Warnings: sexual content. Choso in this au has had his body for a while but isn’t sexually expirenced. However he’s been in a relationship with the reader for a while and they’re taking things slow. Choso has his first orgasm prematurely.
Choso sat on the edge of the bed, his usually composed expression nowhere to be found. Tonight, he seemed more nervous than usual, his dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at his hands, a subtle tension in his shoulders. You’d noticed him growing closer and more comfortable with you over the past few months, but he was still hesitant, holding back in a way that suggested there was something he hadn’t quite figured out.
As you settled next to him, he looked up, his gaze softening slightly when he met your eyes. “Is everything alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.
He gave a small nod, but his eyes drifted downward again, his lips pressing together as though he were trying to find the right words. “I… I think so. It’s just… new,” he murmured, his voice hesitant.
You tilted your head, curious. “New?”
He seemed to struggle for a moment, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of red. “When I think about you… when we’re close like this… sometimes my body feels strange,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
hesitant. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes… when I’m close to you like this, my body feels… different. My pants… they get tighter, and it… hurts.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, almost as if ashamed.
Your cheeks warmed as the realization dawned on you. “Oh,” you whispered, feeling your own heartbeat quicken. Choso was just beginning to experience the sensations of physical attraction, something he’d never encountered before. You could see the confusion and vulnerability in his eyes, and it was both endearing and heart-wrenching.
“Choso,” you said softly, leaning in and gently cupping his face. “That’s completely normal. It just means… you’re feeling something strong for me.”
He seemed both relieved and uncertain, his gaze searching yours for reassurance. “I don’t really know what to do.”
Smiling gently, you brushed your thumb over his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” you said. “Just… let yourself feel.”
Slowly, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. His arms found their way around you, pulling you closer, and he responded to the kiss with a hesitant but growing confidence. The kiss deepened naturally, becoming more passionate than either of you were used to, and when you shifted into his lap, you felt his breath catch.
Your lips left his, trailing along his jawline and down to his neck, placing soft, lingering kisses on his warm skin. He shivered beneath you, his fingers tightening around your waist, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped him, his voice filled with surprise at his own reaction.
As your kisses grew deeper, you felt him shifting beneath you, trying to adjust as he struggled with the new sensations overtaking him. The hard, insistent warmth pressing against your thigh was unmistakable, and when he realized it too, his cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red.
“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, voice rough with embarrassment as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know what’s happening�� When you’re this close, it… hurts but also feels really good?.”
Your own cheeks heated, and you could barely contain your flustered smile as you realized just how innocent he truly was. “Choso,” you whispered, bringing a hand to gently stroke his cheek, “it’s okay. It’s normal to feel this way when you’re with someone you love.”
Still looking a little lost, he glanced down at himself, swallowing hard as he processed your words. “It’s normal?” he asked, voice soft and uncertain. His brow furrowed as he shifted under you again, and he let out another low, almost involuntary moan as you trailed your fingertips along his abdomen, lifting his shirt to expose his toned stomach. The sight made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t resist pressing gentle kisses along his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed and relaxed under your touch.
“Oh,” he gasped, his eyes closing as a whimper escaped his lips, his hands gripping onto you tighter. You continued, your kisses soft but insistent, moving over each firm line of his abs. Choso’s breathing grew more erratic, and his entire body trembled beneath you as he struggled to hold himself back, to understand these overwhelming sensations. You felt him buck slightly beneath you, unable to control his reactions.
Then, suddenly, his whole body tensed, and he let out a shuddering, unrestrained moan as his hips lifted instinctively. His eyes fluttered open, a dazed expression on his face, and you noticed the slight dampness starting to spread in his pants. He seemed stunned, frozen for a moment, as the release washed over him, leaving him breathless and flushed. His eyes met yours, wide with surprise and embarrassment, and a blush spread across his cheeks.
“I… I didn’t mean to… I don’t…” he stammered, looking away as he tried to process what had just happened. “My pants…” He swallowed, clearly mortified. "Their a little wet," he whispered, almost to himself, his cheeks burning.
You gently cupped his face, wiping away a small tear that had gathered in the corner of his eye, offering him a reassuring smile. “Choso, it’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft and understanding. “It’s completely normal. It just means you felt really good.”
He looked up at you, his eyes vulnerable, yet filled with a sense of relief as he took in your comforting words. “You… you’re not upset?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Of course not,” you replied, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. “I love every part of you, Choso. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
A shy but grateful smile crept onto his face, and as he glanced down at himself again, he laughed softly, a little self-conscious but clearly reassured by your presence. “Thank you… for being so patient with me,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude.
You pulled him close, pressing a few more soft, gentle kisses to his lips. “Always,” you promised, leaning into him with warmth and understanding. “Whenever you’re ready to learn more, I’m here.”
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@haruhatake
@tibibibi123
@mistymuii
@moonchhu
@itsafairytalekay
I’d like to know what everyone thinks :) I really appreciate feedback 🥹
#choso smut#choso headcanons#choso jujutsu kaisen#kamo choso#choso kamo#choso kamo x reader#choso x reader#choso fluff#choso x y/n#choso kamo smut#choso kamo fluff#choso x you#kamo choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso au#jjk choso#choso scenario#jujutsu kaisen#choso my beloved#choso
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“Dad, you have to try.” Charlie scolded. It was embarrassing to be scolded by your daughter and Lucifer cringed.
He supposed he had been a little, umm, cold, towards Adam since the man revived.
Charlie wanted to make Adam feel welcome. She was more forgiving. And calculating.
She had told Lucifer when she first accepted Adam into the hotel that if she could redeem him, it was proof that the current system was broken.
“Fine.” He grumbled.
“Good.” She smiled triumphly. “Now take him out to dinner.”
He nearly dropped his cane. “What!? Why?!?”
“To show you’re trying to be his friend and to show him the good parts of hell too. Not just the murdery stab parts.”
Lucifer tried to keep his cool and through gritted teeth agreed before storming off to find Adam. Might as well get it over with.
Adam was in the small library. He was looking through the classic literature section, trying to tell if someone in hell just added all the steamy sex scenes to books like Pride and Prejudice and Moby Dick or if heaven took them out, when Lucifer slammed his hands into the shelves on either side of Adam.
He was boxed in and Lucifer looked up at him.
Lucifer’s face was golden and his voice knee shakenly deep as he told Adam their plans for the evening.
It was just like that scene in Moby Dick he just read. When Ishmael shoved Queequeg against the mast, tied them together as a storm raged, and they made out before Ishmael fucked Queequeg’s brains out as the waves and rains washed over them.
Only without the storm, the mast, and Lucifer was telling him that he’d be at Adam’s door for six and to be dressed to eat out.
It was hot. Like weirdly hot.
He didn’t know what to wear for that though and went to Angel for help.
They only had a couple hours and Angel and him hit all of Angel’s favourite stores.
“This is the outfit.” Angel nodded approvingly.
Adam was bright red. He wasn’t sure. All he could see was how chubby he’d gotten over the years. It felt a little too tight and revealing even a dressing room with just Angel in it. It was really weird to have one of his thousands times grandsons helping him pick out what to wear that night.
“I’m not sure about the colours.”
“I’ve seen how the man dresses. He likes white and red.” Angel deadpanned. “So white with red accents. It even has a little apple with the bite taken out of it for a little. Oh what’s it called? It’s not a button but it’s like an accessory? No, umm.”
“I didn’t think it had a name at all.” Adam shrugged. He didn’t know fucking clothing. He generally just wore what people gave him. “You sure about it? I look fat.”
“You look gorgeous. And it’s hell, honey.” Angel gestured towards the closed door. “I saw a man out there wearing nothing but a trench-coat sitting on a bench with his weird looking dick on display. No one cares if you don’t have a six-pack anymore. I’m fucking spider and my pornos fly off the shelves.”
Adam couldn’t argue with that. There was a distinct lack of shame in hell. He should embrace that much of the culture anyway.
They made it back in time for Adam to shower, shave his face and trim his goatee so it looked neat, brush his teeth so he was minty fresh for making out, and to get dressed. He left the door open unlocked and waited nervously for his date to show up.
Lucifer really didn’t want to do this.
What would they talk about?
He gave it half an hour before their hands were on each other.
Knocking first he could hear Adam shuffling a bit and telling him to come in.
Ugh. The asshole wasn’t even ready yet.
Lucifer opened the door and dropped his cane and jaw.
Adam was blushing, sitting on the edge of the bed in lingerie. A white with red lace trim bra and matching panties set. His eye was drawn between the cups of the bra to a decorative apple button.
Clearing his throat Adam asked, “you still want to “eat out” right?”
Lucifer kicked the door shut behind him and started to strip. That hadn’t been what he meant but dinner was dinner.
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im a top leaning switch but being an angelic sweet sweet pisces has me fighting the bottom allegations and losing
#this is so funny. yeah i talk cute but if i know ur into me and we're hanging out in person it's a little Different 💅🏾#i also bottompost a lot more bc it's more well received/less embarrassing than top posting lmao#im so picky about tops.. i don't think i even like tops like that tbh like my perfect matchup is a switch bottom#and just ppl who r switches in general.. mm I've kinda always dated bottoms 😐 which is fine y'all r sweet precious angels and#i will hold u and cherish u and take care of u it is truly a joy BUT.... sometimes a girl wants to get railed yk?#sometimes i wanna look up at someone who's a little to excited to do something to me. i wanna fight for dominance sometimes etc#u ask a bottom to top and 😭😮💨 i don't like always being on the giving end but i myself couldn't fully be a bottom for someone either#it's so funny... i feel like subs are the ones who deserve to dom me the most as a treat ykwim.. y'all have been so good#but. ya know 😐 lmao#im not sure how many switches I've had the pleasure of hooking up with but now she's reminiscing 😵💫
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#sry I need to vent more abt my tattoo pain bc I physically cannot do anything productive rn im completely and totally incapacitated#can’t read anything beyond short posts or texts. can’t eat or move at all#tried to sleep through it so it would at least Be Tomorrow so I can get medical help. but the jolts of pain make me like Jump#hence me being sent home from work early today like it’s not even that I was complaining I was just flinching involuntarily so much#and was unable to work or function at all. thank god I don’t work retail rn I remember the pain of tattoo infections in that context#it’s so Abrupt it feels like I’m being stabbed or repeatedly bitten#literally trying not to scream bc I have a roommate. but he almost certainly hears me crying and saying ouch#which sucks bc I barely know the guy lol he has no context. At least on my drive home I could scream as much as I needed#literally would go to the ER if I could afford it and that sounds so dramatic bc it is#it doesn’t feel like it can wait. genuinely don’t know how I’m gonna get through the night#I haven’t slept in like 60 hours and I doubt I will tonight. but it hurts too much to even tell if I’m tired#and I don’t have time for this!! I have so much I need to be doing. I hate that the only way I can have Time is to be Extra Disabled#in a way that leaves me completely unable to do the things I normally can fight through despite burnout#and I was just at health services yesterday asking them to do insurance paperwork that they couldn’t do#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back#I have Another tattoo infection but I pinky promise I take such good care of them#and my artist is like the best of the best too. it’s like it doesn’t matter what either of us does to keep me safe#and I know if anyone responds to this it will be to tell me to stop getting tattoos#but that’s literally like telling me not to get top surgery if I’m immunocompromised n might have recovery complications#both are equally important gender affirming medical procedures to me I’m not joking#and I hate always having to justify this whilst in agonizing pain. I hate answering the same things every time bc still no one believes me#I say this as someone who lives every moment in baseline pain that would have your average person writhing on the floor and I ignore it#this is truly unbearable if I hadn’t been through it a million times I would think it was life threatening#just needed to get it out ig. bc it’s all I can physically do. until health services opens in 12 hours#PLEASE let them have availability tomorrow bc i have literally no option on weekends#this is just. so upsetting and embarrassing. I don’t have time or emotional capacity for this#personal#mine#vent post
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fawniel thoughts hour….
#gideon shut the hell up challenge#u can tell we are trying so hard to write smth bc we keep thinking up situations. but anyway#them just laying together asking a bunch of 20 questions type things#(he asks their favorite color and they laugh bc shouldn’t their ~number one fan~ know that already? and he gets embarrassed#and is like I MEAN I /DID/…. but that info is old !!! and I want to hear it from u ☺️)#(fawn says blue and he’s like 👀 oh really… any favorite shade…. and they’re like hm!! 😌 guess u will never know)#but danny asks if they have any siblings….. he knows they said they were part of a batch? but he doesn’t know how….#(‘tank babies?’ fawn suggests bc he’s trying to come up w a nicer way to say it but can’t and he does an embarrassed little laugh bc yeah)#fawn who has only ever lied to the rangers abt it (they grew up on a farm and had a large family sure but ‘no one worth mentioning’?)#(not ashamed of their siblings but scared to talk abt them. to show any sort of weakness. ric would have pried; he always does.)#and yet. sitting here w him now. not sidestep (either one) and herald. just fawn and danny. they tell him#and it’s hard to explain how you can know someone without ever Knowing them. how u can have names when all u have are pictures and feelings#but they manage. and when they’re done danny says that he’s sorry for their loss. the first time they’re ever heard it.#probs the first time they’ve ever genuinely Acknowledged it since they were recycled. and fawn says yeah. says thank you. says I’m sorry.#oh u thought we were done w siblings ?? sike . ocean and sunny u will always be canon 2 me
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I feel so connected to miles bc I also got that reaction when I had a B in Spanish
#i failed the map test smh#i do NOT know geography do NOT ask me where anything is ever#i genuinely thought anyone could just walk the world until like 10 minutes ago#i do not have spatial awareness either this alleged world walking felt like it’d take maybe a year#so yeah.#bitch I got called a fake Dominican Im so…#I am practically a no sabo tho so 😞#I Can talk Spanish at home with my family fine but the second I meet someone outside I get tongue tied bruh#MY FRIEND SAW A VID OF ME SPEAKING TO MY MOTHER SND HAD THE MOST SHOCKED LOOK OK HER FACE#TELL ME WHY SHE THOUGHT I WAS LYING ABT BEING DOMINICAN LIKE 😭😭😭💔#and i STILL can’t speak it with her so#damn that’s embarrassing#projecting all that onto miles btw#speaks perfect Spanish at home but if Miguel asks him how he is he fumbles and starts babbling like a lil kid
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of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.
and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.
and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.
and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.
he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”
“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.
“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”
his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”
“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.
when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.
“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.
“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.
he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.
“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.
you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”
he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.
you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.
it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.
he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”
cod masterlist
#ghost angst#ghost#simon riley#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw3#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut
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bro i went onto a media archive site and almost immediately got a device pop-up that said a trojan virus was detected 😭 i just wanna watch steven universe for free man wth
#idk if that was real or not but it’s a little scary#i should really just get the dvds from the library or smth but that means using my old as fuck computer that barely runs#bc they don’t make computers with dvd players anymore😢😢😢#either that or i have to ask someone how to get it .. that’s so embarrassing though . hello can you pleease help me illegally acquire#a kids show i’ve already seen 20 times🥺🥺🥺i offer nothing in return#talking tag
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup
fem reader
You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.
It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.
You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.
At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.
He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.
You’re breaking up with him.
He’s confused afterward, too.
You’re breaking up with him?
That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead.
You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.
No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.
“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.
“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.
You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—
“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”
“No—”
“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”
“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”
“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”
“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”
“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”
You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…
“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”
There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.
“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”
When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.
“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”
He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.
“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”
And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy…
That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.
Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.
But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.
He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!
The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.
There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.
He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.
When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.
He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.
And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.
And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.
You will be his again.
♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere boyfriend#boyfriend#boyfriend scenarios
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fuck your ex
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”
tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)
Prologue
You’re so busy blasting nostalgic break-up music that you’re not paying attention to how fast you’re driving down the speedway. The loud Kelly Clarkson song drowns out your sorrows, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of the siren when a Police car lights up behind you.
“Fuck!” you scream, immediately turning down your stereo and pulling over onto the shoulder of the road.
Your heart is racing in your chest- being pulled over isn’t something you’re used to, and you fumble to roll your window down while two cops exit their vehicle and approach.
You wipe at your eyes, which are tearing up again, and you reach for your purse to pull out your license.
The man standing next to your window leans down to look at you, and you try to flash him a smile. His expression is cold, blank even. “Do you know how fast you were going?” he asks.
Now, your heart sinks. It’s such a direct question, and for some reason it makes you snap. You can feel tears begin to roll down your cheeks, your skin heating in embarrassment at having been caught doing something wrong.
“Officer- I’m so sorry, I don’t know how fast I was going- I just broke up with my stupid ex-boyfriend, and I was listening to some breakup music to distract myself from how I’m feeling, and I wasn’t paying attention-”
The second cop pulls up to your window, and the two of them exchange a glance while you cry and blab your reasoning behind doing something wrong.
“Are you headed home?” the second officer, whose nametag reads ‘KIM’, asks.
“Yeah, I just went to get a bottle of wine, and now I’m going home to drink and watch movies and cry myself to sleep,” you admit, voice shaky.
“Have you had anything to drink tonight?”
“No, sir.”
The first officer, ‘CHOI’, sighs, and you see him scan the surrounding freeway. “We’re going to let you off with a warning,” he says finally. “It’s late, there’s hardly anyone driving right now- you were doing the wrong thing by speeding, but it sounds like your day is already pretty shit as it is.”
“Really?” You blink up at him, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “No ticket?”
“No ticket,” Choi confirms. “But don’t get caught doing this sort of thing again.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
“Good luck with your wine and your movies,” Kim nods, and with that, the two officers go back to their vehicle.
You wait patiently, watching them in your rear-view mirror as they pull out and drive past you. Only then do you release a deep breath.
One
“Oops!” You let out a squeak as you turn from the bartop and nearly run straight into someone. Your drink sloshes over the edge of your glass, coating your fingers in fruity liquid.
“My bad,” the tall man immediately apologizes, steadying you with a hand on your hip.
Your eyes meet, and your heart leaps into your throat. It’s not common to see men who are this attractive out and at bars-
“Wait, have we met before?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.
“I’d remember if we had,” you retort quickly.
The man cocks his head to the side, and after a moment of studying you, his face lights up. “Wait, I remember! You’re that chick we caught speeding two or three months back! The one who’d just had a breakup!”
Your eyes widen as the memory washes over you. As you look up at this tall man, you realize he’s right. You hadn’t recognized him at first, without his officer hat and uniform he looks much more boyish.
“I’m Mingyu,” the large man says, holding out a hand. Without a second thought, you shake it, which is when you remember your skin is still sticky from your spilled drink.
“Shit, sorry-” you apologize.
Mingyu only laughs. “You’re still a bit of a hot mess, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately,” you agree with a sigh.
“Are you here with people?” he asks next, looking around.
“Waiting on some friends.”
“Want to come join me and Cheol for a bit while you wait?”
“I really couldn’t-” you try to side step the question, but Mingyu insists, and soon, you find yourself seated at a table with the two sexy cops who had let you off with a warning three months ago.
“This is the chick who was speeding, the Kelly Clarkson break-up one,” Mingyu introduces you to his buddy, and you watch recognition blossom over his face.
“Y/N,” you correct, swallowing thickly. “My name is Y/N.”
“Seungcheol,” the stoic cop says, introducing himself. “How’ve you been?”
“Better than that night,” you admit, feeling a little off that they’re so interested in you.
“You’d be surprised how often we pull over girls for speeding after rough breakups,” Mingyu tells you, easing your anxiety a bit. “It must have been a pretty shitty split to have been driving the way you were.”
“It was bad,” you admit with a frown. “In fact… I still don’t think I’m fully over it.”
You’re not sure what’s come over you, what’s bewitched you to the point where you’re divulging your personal secrets to two strangers, and cops no less-
“Fuck your ex,” Seungcheol grunts, taking a sip of his beer.
Mingyu nods. “Fuck your ex.”
You swallow thickly, lifting your drink. “Fuck my ex.”
You wish your voice sounded more confident, but Mingyu flashes you a smile regardless, clinking his beer to your cocktail.
Your shoulders relax a little as you sip on your drink, and Mingyu begins asking you very surface-level questions. It’s clear he’s doing his best to make you feel welcome while you wait for your friends, who arrive after about fifteen minutes of chat.
“Well, my girls are here,” you announce.
“Shame, we were enjoying your company,” Seungcheol muses, and his words make your skin heat. He’s quiet, or at least, not as much of a talker as Mingyu is-
“Hey listen,” Mingyu distracts you, pulling out a pen and paper, where he begins to scribble a few numbers, “you know what they say, the best cure to get over someone is to get under someone else. If you ever need one of us, or both, shoot us a text or something.”
You’re in complete shock as he hands you the slip of paper, wherein two phone numbers and names are written.
“Are you…” you swallow thickly, looking between the men, “is this kind of behavior allowed from cops?”
Mingyu flashes you a wink. “We’re off duty.”
Two
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit, opening the door to your apartment, allowing Mingyu inside.
He only chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You let out a breath, relaxing against his chest. Once you feel a little more settled he releases you, pinching your cheek gently, in a shockingly affectionate way. “You’re getting over your ex,” Mingyu says softly. “Everyone needs to take that step sometime, I’m just glad you reached out to me instead of some tinder dick head.”
“Yeah, cuz a cop is so much better than some online random,” you roll your eyes.
“I’m definitely better than some online random,” he agrees.
“This isn’t very cop like of you,” you point out, watching Mingyu remove his jacket.
“I’m not just my profession,” Mingyu says smoothly. “I’m a hot blooded male, and you’re a cute girl who needs some rescuing.”
You cock a brow, amused. “Rescuing?”
“Uh huh.”
“And you’re going to rescue me with what? Your cock?” You’re giggling already, and Mingyu joins in.
“Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”
You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, going on your tiptoes to press your lips to Mingyu’s. He kisses you back immediately, cupping your cheek with one large hand. It’s a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss that tells you you’re safe, and you realize how right Mingyu is- maybe you just needed a companion, someone to distract you from how lonely single nights can be.
Even so, the two of you make your way to your bedroom, and you find yourself shockingly shy as you invite Mingyu into your bed.
You’re in comfy clothes, but Mingyu isn’t, and he toys with the hem of his shirt as you get under your covers. “Should I take this off?” he asks.
“Whatever you want,” you agree, watching him carefully.
“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explains.
“It won’t,” you tell him, in fact, you’re curious as to what he looks like under his shirt.
A minute later, you’re rewarded by getting a full view of Mingyu’s beautiful body. He’s all muscle, but it’s not the kind of muscle you gain just in a gym. No, Mingyu has a work hardened physique, what some might identify as practical muscle, and it’s clear he doesn’t skimp on food either. He’s perfectly built, you decide, as he gets into bed next to you, immediately pulling you to his broad chest.
You release a deep breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding.
A large hand strokes along your back, and Mingyu gives you space to just be quiet and enjoy his presence.
Finally, though, you get to the point where you can’t contain yourself any longer. You look up at him, and Mingyu mirrors the motion. It’s like he can already read you, and you wonder if that’s due to him having a lot of experience with girls, or psychological cue reading as a cop. Either way, he leans down to kiss you, and you melt into it, letting out a pleased groan.
Mingyu returns the sound with one of his own, his tongue gliding across your lip. You open up for him, shifting so you’re half on his chest while the kiss deepens. Mingyu’s hands find your waist, and he pulls you fully on top of him, your knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips.
It’s been so long since you kissed someone, but your body easily picks up the natural instinct again. Mingyu is just so sexy- in no time at all, you’re wriggling on top of him, eager for stimulus against your already aching core.
You find yourself completely relaxed, but completely on edge at the same time. It’s an odd contrast. Mingyu makes you feel comfortable, without fear, and yet- he also sets you on fire in the best of ways. Each touch is like electric shivers across your body, and you can’t help the way you’re moaning from just a bit of kissing and dry humping.
“Wait,” Mingyu’s voice makes you stop, and you pull away, looking down at him with confusion. “I think- before we fuck or anything, I think you should let me eat you out. I bet you’re tired of toys and fingers, and I want tonight to be about making you feel good.”
He’s literally prince charming. Like- how did you ever find this sexy giver.
You swallow thickly. “We can do that.”
Mingyu kisses you again, and then he rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You love the way his hands skim across your body, teasing across your waist and ribcage.
“Can I take your clothes off?” he asks.
“Maybe… uh… maybe just my pants for now?” You’re not sure why you want to leave your shirt on, but that’s the boundary you’re comfortable with right now, and Mingyu doesn’t question it. He presses another kiss to your lips before sliding down you form, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants to drag them down your body.
The large man adjusts between your legs, peppering your newly exposed skin in soft kisses.
Your core is throbbing in your panties, and you bite your lip when his breath fans across your pussy.
“These off next?” he asks, looking up at you.
“Yeah.” The word comes out a whisper, your body tight with suspense.
Mingyu pulls your panties down slowly, and the cool air of the room on your exposed core makes you twitch.
Large hands smooth up your calves and thighs, and Mingyu’s eyes meet yours as he closes the distance to your pussy. You hold your breath, waiting-
The first lick of your clit makes your toes curl, and you moan deeply, earning a smile from the man who’s clearly intent on devouring you.
“I kind of like being told what to do,” Mingyu explains, kissing your inner thigh. “So if you have anything you want me to do, just say something.”
“I will,” you promise, shifting your hips to get your core closer to his face again.
Mingyu takes the motion as a direction in and of itself, and he immediately puts his mouth back on you, but this time, it’s not a kitten lick. There’s no hesitation now, it’s clear you want this, and Mingyu dives in, pressing his tongue into your core.
You groan, thighs already shaking at how good it feels.
Your hands reach down, tangling in his soft hair, and Mingyu releases a moan of his own. The vibration from it goes straight to your clit, and you whimper.
“You’re good at this,” you tell him, doing your best to be verbal, as it’s pretty clear Mingyu’s a verbal sex kind of guy.
He rewards your words by sucking his lips around your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.
“Can you…” you shift slightly, “your fingers-”
Mingyu adjusts, focusing on your clit with his mouth while a finger strokes between your pussy lips. He eases it into your wet core slowly, being gentle with you while ravaging your sensitive bud.
Your eyes close at the feeling, your head thrown back against your pillows. “That’s good-” you tell him, groaning when he slips a second digit into your pussy.
You can feel him smile against your clit, working his fingers up toward your gspot with each calculated thrust.
You’re supposed to be using Mingyu to get over your ex, but you can’t help the way you compare them- how had you ever thought sex with your ex was good? He’d never eaten you out like this- never prioritized your pleasure- fuck, you haven’t even had sex with Mingyu yet, and you’re already convinced it’s going to be mind blowing.
Releasing a breath, you focus on Mingyu, focus on the feeling building deep in your core.
One thrust has Mingyu’s fingers hitting the exact right spot, and you let out a squeal of delight. “Right there- fuck- right there!”
Mingyu does as he’s told, repeatedly hitting the spot that draws you closer to your orgasm with record speed. His mouth on your clit is also pure pleasure, and before you even know it, you’re releasing a groan. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- don’t stop, please-”
Your words break off as your high slams into you, moans of ecstasy escaping as your body surges with pleasure. Your pussy is pulsing deliciously around Mingyu’s fingers and he works you through your orgasm like an absolute champ. He’s unrelenting, fully focused on drawing out your pleasure until you’re practically shaking.
Mingyu pulls away, and you let out a shaky gasp, opening your eyes to look down at the gorgeous man. His expression is one of pure lust, and you watch him wipe his mouth with the back of his palm.
“You taste like peaches, baby,” he tells you, straightening onto his knees at the foot of your bed.
You don’t say anything, you only motion for Mingyu to come closer, and you grab the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue.
He moans into the kiss, and you writhe beneath him, hooking your leg over his hip.
Mingyu begins to grind down against you, and you can feel how hard he is in his jeans. You love that eating you out had that kind of effect on him, and you find yourself reaching down to cup his cock.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, breaking the kiss to breathe heavily, pressing his forehead against yours. “Are we going to do this? You can still back out-”
“We’re doing this,” you confirm.
“Okay, give me a sec.” Mingyu pulls away from you and you whimper at the loss. “Wanna take your shirt off now, while I take off my pants?”
“Yeah,” you agree, immediately working on the remainder of your clothing.
You’re naked in seconds, and you watch Mingyu step out of his jeans next to the bed. He’s produced a condom from his pants, and you watch with bated breath while he rolls it onto one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen in person- in fact, it might be the biggest cock, and your core throbs at the mere thought of it.
“I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,” you find yourself saying softly, toying with the fact of unprotected sex.
“Me too,” Mingyu breathes. “But, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”
Leave it to the cop to be safe, you guess that’s a good thing, but part of you sinks at the idea of not being filled with his cum.
Mingyu gets on top of you again, kissing you deeply.
Your legs wrap tight around his body, and with pressure, you prompt him to grind down against your core again.
The feeling of his cock gliding between your soaked pussy lips is amazing- and you do your best to ignore the sensation of the condom.
He kisses you for a long time, until you’re aching for him from the grinding, and finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Please,” you whimper, looking up at him. “I need you.”
“Anything you want, baby,” he says, pressing his lips to yours again while he adjusts ever so slightly, pushing his hand between your bodies so he can grab the base of his cock and line it up with your core.
He starts by rubbing it between your pussy lips, lubricating himself before pushing just the tip inside of you.
You moan against his mouth, shocked at the stretch. It’s clear from Mingyu’s gentle, controlled motions, that he’s used to giving grace for his size, and he slowly works you open more and more, sinking inch after inch of himself into your core.
His kisses are a wonderful distraction, and you focus on relaxing, allowing your body to open up for the large cock.
When his front is flush to your own, his cock completely buried inside of you, you both release groans of pleasure.
The kiss breaks, and you pant against each others lips, opening your eyes to look at each other.
“You good?” he asks.
“Good,” you nod. “You can move.”
Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, and after a moment, he begins to fuck you.
Each thrust is euphoria, his cock dragging against your inner walls deliciously. Mingyu begins to kiss you again, and you grab at his strong shoulders, clutching him desperately while he fucks you into your mattress.
“You’re so tight,” Mingyu groans, lips moving to your neck. He licks at your sweet spot, and you shiver, wrapping your legs around him even tighter.
“You’re just so big-” you counter.
“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits with a chuckle.
You don’t mind that you’re in missionary, don’t mind that he fucks you stupid this way- it’s a very intimate position, and once again, the thought of your ex pops back into your mind.
You realize, as the two of you get closer and closer to your highs, that maybe you weren’t ready for this- you don’t regret it, but you’re clearly not over your ex in the way you’d wished you would be at this point.
Maybe Mingyu’s just too soft, too gentle, too domestic-
It’s not his fault, he’s being sweet to you, but maybe sweet isn’t what you needed, not really. It just makes you miss being in a relationship.
The two of you cum together, and you hate that you’re still distracted. You wish you could give all your focus to Mingyu, after all, it’s clear he’s completely zoned in on you, but it is what it is.
If nothing else, he’d distracted you for a little, given you perhaps the best dick and pussy eating of your life- and as the two of you cuddle up to fall asleep, it’s a small blessing at least that you’re not sleeping alone.
Three
You’re at a bar waiting for your takeout when you run into the most unlikely person.
Seungcheol is dressed in work out clothes, a loose shirt, sweatpants, and a baseball cap, but he still looks downright lickable. His strong shoulders- the handsome face only partially hidden by his cap- he’s so recougnizable, and it’s clear he knows who you are too, because he walks over.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” you retort, playing with the straw of your cocktail. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he admits with a laugh, and you’re delighted at how his smile lights up his face. “You waiting on food?”
“Yeah, just a dinner order, figured I’d get one drink while waiting.”
He nods. “I’m waiting for food too. Just came from the gym, didn’t feel like cooking.”
“I get that,” you agree, looking down at your drink.
“You eating alone tonight?” he asks. “We could always just ask the kitchen to switch our orders, you know, get a table, eat here.”
“Are you asking me to have dinner with you?” you grin.
“If you’re up for that sort of thing,” he shrugs.
“You know what?” You let out a sigh. “Let’s do it.”
Seungcheol grins, and after talking with the bartender, you find him leading you over to a booth, having sorted everything out.
He’s got a beer now, and you’re enthralled with the way he looks while taking a sip.
He’s just so masculine- you’re extremely attracted to Seungcheol. He’d been kind of scary while dressed in work attire, but this gym outfit is much more your style.
“So,” he starts, releasing a breath. “Heard you saw Mingyu last week.”
Your skin heats with embarrassment. “Oh, yeah.”
“Don’t be shy,” Seungcheol grins, reaching across the table to nudge your hand. “I don’t judge. He’s my best friend, and we talk, so of course he mentioned it.”
“And now… you’re having dinner with me,” you point out.
Seungcheol shrugs. “Mingyu’s not the jealous type.”
“Are you?”
Seungcheol leans back against the booth, cocking his head to the side. He grins, and it’s one of the sexiest expressions you’ve ever seen. “I can be,” he admits. “It depends on the situation.”
You swallow thickly, reaching for your drink, in need of some sort of reprieve for the way your throat has gotten dry. “Do you and Mingyu do this a lot?” you find yourself asking.
“Do what a lot?”
“Go after the same girl?” you clarify.
Seungcheol takes a moment, and you can tell he’s deep in thought about how to approach this line of questioning. “It’s happened once before,” he admits. “Definitely not a regular thing.”
“Tell me about last time,” you suggest, interested in the story now.
“Not much to say,” Seungcheol shrugs. “He and I have been friends forever. In university there was this one girl, she wanted us both so we figured it would be interesting.”
“Was it? Interesting?”
Seungcheol flashes you a dark look, the kind of look that says ‘are you serious?’
“It was fun,” he says finally. “But, the conditions have to be perfect for sharing to work.”
You’re about to ask for more details, but your waitress comes over with your food, so you put your questions on the back burner.
Seungcheol had ordered a salad with four extra chicken breasts, and you stare at him in shock for a while.
“What?” he asks, taking a bite.
“I’ve just never seen someone order greens and four orders of chicken,” you admit.
“It’s good for you,” Seungcheol insists. “Protein.”
You look down at your rice bowl, letting out a sigh.
“Bet you’re wishing you’d got what I got,” Seungcheol teases.
“Never,” you laugh.
“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.
“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”
“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.
“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.
“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”
“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.
“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”
“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”
Four
Seungcheol’s mouth is hot on yours before you’re even inside your apartment. He’s all teeth and tongue and grabby, greedy hands. But there’s something so exciting about him as he pushes your front door closed with his foot, wrapping you up in his strong arms and lifting you off the floor, prompting your legs around his hips.
There’s no talking, no assuring you that you don’t have to fuck-
You know you’re both here to fuck each other’s brains out, and it makes things simple as he carries you to your room.
To your surprise, however, he doesn’t take you to your bed. “Where’s your shower?” he asks, breaking the kiss to look around.
“Through there,” you point to the door to your ensuite, and Seungcheol follows your directions. Once in the bathroom, he sets you on the sink, and you flash him a questioning look.
“I showered at the gym, but still,” Seungcheol says, tearing his shirt off from the back of the neck. “I feel like shower sex is a good way to go about this.”
“I don’t usually like shower sex,” you point out.
“Well, you will with me, baby, trust me on that.” Seungcheol slips out of his sweatpants and briefs, his cock rising to attention. “Come here,” he instructs, pulling you off the sink.
His lips are feverish on your own, and he undresses you as quickly as he’d undressed himself. His hands grope your breasts, and he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth while you thread your fingers through his hair.
“Now turn the shower on,” he commands.
You step toward the shower, following through- and you feel Seungcheol’s hulking, built body behind your own. His chest presses to your back, and his hands begin to explore your form while the water heats.
You tilt your head to give him access to your throat while one hand massages your breast, and the other slips down to your core, teasing through your pussy lips.
“Wet already,” he muses with a grin. “Mingyu said you’re a sensitive one.”
A tingle of sinful delight rushes through you.
You wonder how many details Mingyu shared- you wonder if Seungcheol’s been eager to get a taste of you for himself.
The water begins to steam, and with a nudge, Seungcheol prompts you inside. He joins you quickly, pinning you to the wall while his lips devour your own.
He breaks the kiss a short time later, looking up at your detachable shower head, then a grin spreads across his face. “Guess I can be a giver today, but don’t tell anyone,” he teases, taking the shower head off.
You’re not even shocked when he brings it between your thighs, wet pressure surging up against your clit while you squeal in shock.
Seungcheol bends down, capturing your nipple between his lips again.
“Fuck, this feels good-” you groan, gasping and grinding down against the shower head.
“I’ll let you cum first, because when it’s my turn, it’s my turn,” he warns.
“Whatever you want,” you tell him, enjoying the way his mouth returns to your breasts.
He’s so rough, but it feels so good as the pressure from the shower continues on your clit. The dual feeling of his lips around your nipple, and the pressure on your sensitive bud has you getting close to the edge shockingly fast.
Seungcheol - like Mingyu - seems able to read you, and he adjusts, bringing a hand between your thighs. Two fingers slip into your wet core, and he focuses on applying the water to your clit while he begins to finger fuck you.
“Fuck,” you groan, clawing at the wall, trying to stay standing while he works you closer and closer-
“Want to see you cum,” he says. “Want to see you come undone on this fucking shower head and my fingers before I take what’s mine.”
Your stomach flip flops at the possessive tone, your breath coming out in a shocked gasp.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Tonight, you’re mine. Don’t want you thinking about Mingyu, or that stupid fucking ex of yours. It’s just you and me, and if I see you drifting, I’ll bring you right back here, with me, got it?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Such a good girl for me, grinding against my hand-” he groans. “I can see how close you are.” He leans forward, his lips ghosting past your ear. “I’ll admit though, I’m not a very patient man.”
Your skin tingles at his words, and you find yourself reaching for his cock, using the water as lubrication as you begin to stroke him off.
“That’s it,” Seungcheol says, voice low. “I be good to you, you be good to me, that’s the way this should be, don’t you think?”
“Uh huh,” you nod, closing your eyes as your abdominal muscles tense, warning you of your oncoming orgasm.
“Squeezing me so good, come on, baby, cum on my fingers.”
Seungcheol’s hand works even harder, digits stroking your sweet spot- and that’s all you need to be thrown over the edge.
You let out a strangled gasp, your orgasm slamming into you.
“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans, pressing his forehead against yours while he works you through your high. “Keep cumming for me, baby.”
You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to- your entire body is Seungcheol’s to control, and he prolongs your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.
You can hardly stand, but that doesn’t matter, Seungcheol puts the shower head back and simply picks you up. “I don’t have a condom on me,” he explains, sinking you onto his cock and releasing a hissing sound of pleasure, “so I’m just going to have to pull out and paint your chest.”
“Whatever you want,” you tell him, drawing his lips to your own as he begins to fuck you against the wall of your shower.
His fingers dig into your thighs, and he uses you to his own pleasure, fucking you like a mad man. He’s so strong- and you feel like some weightless doll in his grip. His lips are hot against your own, and his moans are some of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.
There aren’t any thoughts in your head as he uses you in an animalistic, almost primal way, and you love every second of it, your sensitive pussy clenching tight around his aching cock.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “You’re pussy’s too good, gonna cum.” He pulls out of you abruptly, and you sink to your knees on your shower floor, looking up at him. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you, wrapping his hand around his cock and beginning to roughly stroke it. “Push those pretty tits up for me.”
You do as you’re told, watching Seungcheol- the way his bicep and abdominal muscles flex with each strained stroke of his rock hard cock.
He’s a fucking vision, and you don’t mind him using the sight of you to his own end- in fact, when he releases a strangled groan, throwing his head back as his hot seed shoots out across your tits, you kind of realize you love this.
His large thighs flex, his entire muscular body alive as his orgasm washes over him.
He works himself through it, and finally stops, hand falling to his side while the other reaches out to press to the wall. He looks down at you, offering you that sexy smile. “Good girl.”
Five
You’d given it a week of thought, and now here you are, looking at both Mingyu and Seungcheol as they stand in your kitchen.
“Are you sure you want this?” Mingyu asks, ever the softie of the two.
“She wants this,” Seungcheol confirms, looking you up and down. “She’s probably wanted this since the moment you said she could have us both.”
“It’s a big step,” Mingyu points out.
“It’s the ultimate distraction,” Seungcheol counters.
You let out a sigh, opening your robe to reveal the lingerie underneath. “Let’s do this.”
Seungcheol moves first, stepping forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck, drawing your lips to his. You kiss him desperately, cognizant of Mingyu watching. It feels amazing to have the attention of two gorgeous men, and you feel downright elated as Seungcheol lifts you off the ground and begins to carry you to your room.
You watch Mingyu over Seungcheol’s shoulder, and he follows closely.
“How do you want to do this?” the taller one asks as you make it to your bed, where Seungcheol tosses you down.
“No condoms,” you respond.
Both men laugh, exchanging glances. “Baby wants to be full, huh?” Seungcheol asks.
“So full,” you agree.
“I think we can deal with that,” Mingyu grins. “Any other requests?”
You swallow thickly. “Whatever you want.”
Mingyu and Seungcheol look at each other again, and the taller one shrugs. “I’ll go first,” Seungcheol decides.
“Sounds good to me,” Mingyu agrees.
The two nod at each other, and then they both begin to strip. They get down to their boxers quickly, and Seungcheol joins you on the bed first, making you face him on your knees as he captures your lips with his own. His hands are everywhere, massaging and groping-
A second set of hands joins the first as the bed dips, signaling Mingyu’s arrival behind you. His soft lips find your throat, and you moan at the sensation of two sets of mouths on you.
Their touch is everywhere now, but it’s clearly Seungcheol who pulls your panties down, rubbing your wet pussy while Mingyu works on your bra.
“So wet for us,” Seungcheol groans. “She’s been wanting this for ages, Gyu- haven’t you, baby?”
“For too long,” you agree with a whimper, looking up at him.
Now it’s Mingyu’s turn to moan a sound of appreciation, and he pushes your bra off your body, hands immediately cupping your breasts. His fingers pinch at your nipples and you moan desperately, pushing your ass back against him-
Fuck, Mingyu’s already hard, his cock straining against your butt-
Seungcheol captures your attention again, kissing you as his fingers push into your core, crooking up to hit your sweet spot.
You’re so wet- with each stroke, you can hear your juices on Seungcheol’s fingers, and it sets your entire body on fire.
It feels like nothing else you’ve ever experienced to be captured between these two gorgeous men- there are absolutely zero thoughts in your head, you’re so overtaken by this wordless need-
“Fuck this,” Seungcheol says. “I’m not huge on foreplay, need to fuck you.”
Mingyu snickers behind you, it’s clear which of the two men is better at patience, and you suppose that’s why the taller of the two men gets to go second. You can’t imagine making Seungcheol wait his turn, but that’s part of what’s so endearing about him.
“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Seungcheol sighs. “I’ll fuck you doggy, Mingyu can be under you, and as soon as I’m done, he can get his turn, sounds good?”
“Sounds perfect,” you admit.
Seungcheol leans close, his lips ghosting over your own when he says, “Then be a good girl and get into position for me.”
All three of you stip the last bit of clothing from your bodies, and you’re quick to get on top of Mingyu. He immediately kisses you, cupping your cheek as you grind down against his cock- you’re trying to be patient for Seungcheol, but patience, it would seem, is a strong suit that neither of you have.
“If you put his cock inside of you, I’m going to prep your ass,” Seungcheol warns, and you pause your writhing on top of Mingyu. “That’s what I thought.”
Two hands roughly grip your hips, and Seungcheol pulls you up, off of Mingyu. A cock glides between your pussy lips, and Seungcheol smooths his palm along your back. “Be good for us,” he warns before slipping into your wet core.
You let out a moan, resting your head against Mingyu’s chest while he strokes you, holding you close. He nuzzles at the crown of your head, a gentle contrast to the man who begins fucking into you.
You’re kind of obsessed with the duality- the dichotomy of the two men is enough to keep you satisfied and on edge, enraptured with the act of making love in this way.
It’s clear already that you’re kind of in love with threesomes- there’s just something about this, or maybe- there’s just something about Mingyu and Seungcheol.
Seungcheol’s hands are rough on your hips, pulling you back to every thrust, and you finally relax enough to be able to kiss Mingyu again. His lips are desperate against your own, and his cock presses up between your bodies- you can’t help but grab at it, stroking him off in time with Seungcheol’s thrusts.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, rutting up to meet you.
“You’re being too nice on him,” Seungcheol muses, and you can hear his smile.
Neither you nor Mingyu respond, too busy kissing to care.
It’s clear, after a few seconds, that Seungcheol doesn’t enjoy being ignored, because one of his hands snakes around your body, fingers finding your clit.
“Shit-” you whimper, breaking your kiss as pleasure surges through you.
“Knew that would get your attention,” Seungcheol says smugly, rubbing you even harder.
“You gonna cum for us?” Mingyu asks, lips attaching to your neck, one hand groping your breast while you continue to stroke him off.
“Yeah, I’m close-” you gasp, pussy tensing, clenching tight around Seungcheol, who groans deeply at the feeling.
You feel so perfectly taken care of, two men working your body closer and closer to the edge until your orgasm takes over. You release a strangled whimper, body surging with white hot energy that pulses through you like an electric shock.
Seungcheol lets out his own sound of pleasure, and his thrusts falter ever so slightly- then he goes as hard as he’s ever gone before. Each rut is skin on skin as his hips hit your ass, and you can tell from his rough panting that he’s just about to tip over the edge too-
He cums with a deep groan, and the sound makes your pussy flutter even harder as ropes of cum coat your insides, filling you perfectly.
You’re fucked practically stupid, reduced to animal instinct as you stay captured between two large bodies. All you can do is stay on shaking thighs, crouched over Mingyu, as Seungcheol finishes up and pulls out of you with a “Fuck.”
“My turn?” Mingyu asks, stroking your cheek to get your attention.
“Yeah, fuck- fill me up even more,” you whimper.
“You got it, baby,” Mingyu grins, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he reaches between your bodies, grabbing his cock to line it up with your pussy. He helps you down onto him, and you moan.
You’re still tight from your orgasm, but it’s substantially easier to take Mingyu after having just enjoyed Seungcheol’s girth- and the cum inside of you helps with the lubrication. You’re fully seated on Mingyu’s cock not a moment later, and you both moan from the sensation.
His lips attack your own, and you thread your fingers through his hair as he begins to thrust up into you.
You’re too weak to ride him, but from the way Mingyu bucks with the energy of a stallion, you doubt he cares.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans against your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”
“You feel good too,” you tell him, words shaky as they escape you.
“She’s cock drunk already,” Seungcheol muses, and you hear him heading to the bathroom to clean up while Mingyu has his way with you.
“Are you cock drunk, baby?” Mingyu asks, pausing to look up at you with lust filled eyes.
“So good,” you whimper.
Mingyu grins. “Definitely cock drunk.” He cups your cheek, drawing your lips back to his own. He rolls you over so you’re now on your back, and then he sits up onto his knees. “Can you get onto your side for me, gonna push your leg up to your chest and fuck you like that.”
You do as you’re told, shifting into the position. Mingyu grabs your thigh, anchoring himself as he begins to rail into you. He has more maneuverability in this position than when you’d been on top, and he hits as deep as anyone has ever hit before, making you whimper and claw at the sheets.
“You look so good like this,” Mingyu tells you. “Being so good for us.”
“Mingyu-” you whimper.
“I know, I’m close too,” he promises.
Each thrust is hitting a spot that has your toes curling, and you’re quickly working your way to another high, pussy still sensitive from Seungcheol.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, digging his fingers into your thigh as he holds you open for himself. “Can’t cum till you do- fuck, wanna feel you squeezing my cock-”
“Gonna fill me up,” you whimper.
“Gonna fill you to the fucking brim, baby,” Mingyu agrees.
You close your eyes, so overwhelmed by pleasure-
“Let me fill you, come on, cum with me baby,” Mingyu urges, and that’s all it takes for you to explode on his cock.
He releases a grunt, fingers gripping you tight as he falls over the edge with you, fucking you roughly through your dual highs. You love how you can just relax as pleasure like you’ve never felt before surges through you- both men take care of you in their own ways, and this is what heaven must feel like.
But all good things must come to an end, and slowly, Mingyu’s motions begin to falter. He collapses half on top of you, breathing heavily as his lips eagerly seek yours out.
“Well aren’t you two cute,” Seungcheol’s voice makes you both laugh, pulling away from each other.
“Is that jealousy in your tone, Seungcheol?” you tease.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t work if you’re planning to do threesomes with the same three people more than once.”
“Oh, are we doing this again?” you ask.
Seungcheol grins. “Baby, what do you think?”
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🔮 preview. “Bet you’re happy with yourself,” Seungcheol muses, bringing his hot mouth to your throat. “Making him cum untouched like that.”
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, fingering, pussy eating, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, slight cum kink, slight exhibitionistic foreplay, inklings of roleplay, groping, size kink, cumming early and in his pants, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 150
🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!reader
bonus
You’re standing at the bartop waiting for your drink when hands grab at your hips. You’re pulled back to a broad chest, and lips press to your throat, prompting you to tilt your head and grin. “Cheol,” you breathe, “what are you doing?”
“Keeping track of my prisoner,” he muses, grabbing at the orange jumper you’re wearing. “Can’t let my dirty little prison escapee out of my sight.”
It had been his idea to dress as cops and a prisoner for Halloween- and you think there must be some sort of rule against Seungcheol and Mingyu wearing their actual uniforms as costumes on a night like this- but fuck, they look so good in their navy blue.
You know you look good too, the orange jumper isn’t revealing per se, but it’s tight in the right places, and Seungcheol is feral for you regardless of what you’re wearing… or not wearing.
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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.
a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!
Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.
This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.
The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.
Which isn’t to say that he has one.
There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.
It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.
That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.
Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.
He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.
“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.
He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.
“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”
She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.
He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.
He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.
He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.
It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.
“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.
“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.
“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”
It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.
He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.
“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.
It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)
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