#feat play through so far

[abluethingphantom]

Orchid the Submissive

Physical attributes:

A light skin color with a dark tan

Soft brown hair that reaches just past her shoulders. She has dyed magenta tips of her hair.

Will either have her hair up in a fluffy ponytail, or just loose.

Light blue eyes

Wears a bunny headband bow, because she thinks its cute. It emotes to her feelings/reactions. She almost never takes it off.

She has a toned and powerful physique

Originally had pert sized breasts, but was mocked by Whitney and her friends into feeling inadequate about having smaller breasts. So she bought a breast enlargement pill, and was eventually kidnapped and turned into a cow giving her now enormous breasts.

She used to have a slim ass that is now large due to the cow to.

She has three tattoos "Bound to Sydney" on her left shoulder. "Sydney makes me :)" on right shoulder. A flower tattoo above her pubic area. (I imagine it's a Orchid flower)

She is a virgin who wears a chasity belt with an anal shield.

Story beats so far/ Li interactions

Orchid kind, is a caring person trying to be helpful to the fellow folks in the town.

Her school performance is exemplary

In the fall she would go into the forest and try and go find foxes. She'd chase them around so she could pet them. The foxboy's kept trying to mate with her, but were frustrated due to the chasity belt. After these encounters Orchid has started burying eggs when she'd get extra.

In the orphanage Bailey has no opinion of her, but overall the atmosphere of the orphanage is kind. Also having a working pepper spray lab.

Was friends with M!Robin for a long time, and recently returned their romantic feelings. Also pays for them at the orphanage. He cherishes her.

Whitney bullies her, and believes she can do whatever she wants to her with minimal repercussions. Orchid with fight her over some of the really bad things Whitney has planned for her. But she let's her walk right over her other than in those instances. Thus making Whitney believe that Orchid is her pet.

Fell for, and Corrupted M!Sydney who is her main love interest. She technically lost her virginity to him, but the prayer room restored it. He wants to be deflowered by her.

Is nice to M!Kylar due to pity, and just wanting to treat him nicely. Tries to not push their relationship more than that. Even though Kylar wants to be more. He is obsessed with her.

Was sold to M!Eden due to not having enough money for Herself and Robin. Escaped after weaking the leash. But was caught and negotiated about staying a week in town. Forgets to go visit him a lot. He thinks she's adorable.

Met M!Avery when working on the science fair project in the park, and dates him for money, but also forgets to go on the dates sometimes leading to him wanting her on a tighter leash.

She occasionally works on M!Alex's farm, but the two are struggling against Remy's goons. They've almost cleared three fields. Alex admires her.

One day she went deep into the Moor and met the F!Great Hawk. They have a nice loving relationship and eventually Orchid acquired the harpy tf. That was eventually replaced by the cow to after being kidnapped and sold to Remy. The Great Hawk has claimed Orchid as her wife though.

Another day she tried going deep into the forest to see what's in there, but was jumped by the M!Black Wolf. After dealing with the assault from all the wolves after he took her back to the pack Orchid treats all the wolfboys, girls, and wolves kindly and looks out for the younglings while the others go on a hunt. But she leaves quite often to deal with things in town. The Black Wolf is glad she is his mate even though.

Has been hypnotized into responding positively to being hurt/ letting people take pictures of her. Beguiled yearning, and sublime flaunting.

She was beaten, and assaulted so much that she has become truly submissive, and a guilty masochist.

While on the farm Remy grew fond of them while Orchid planned her escape. Eventually though Eden came and saved her from the farm. But before then she dug and escape hole, and befriended Remy's horses, and centaurs and would give them all the apples she would receive from the times Doctor Harper would come visit. Remy thinks that she's adorable.

She recognizes Harper from her time at the farm. Orchid doesn't trust him due to the vial treatment he would try on her while at the farm. She'd put up a fight every time he'd attempt it, but was a fine patient all the other times he'd visit. He has no opinion of her though.

Orchid occasionally studies dance at the dance studio when she has the time and money to do so. She's studied enough that Charlie has them performing gigs occasionally. He thinks she's delightful.

Due to them performing dance gigs the nun Jordan has them investigating a disappearance of a fellow initiate to the temple.

She is a initiate at the church she used to have the highest of purity, but has fallen drastically due to being talked into doing lewd things with women. But she cleans, and gardens at the temple really well, and has full grace due to her hard work.

Thanks to their dancing skills, and cow tf she has become a great chef at the cafe. Making the business so much money that it renovated and earning the owner Sam's favor. She thinks Orchid is delightful.

Leighton, Mason, and River has no opinion of her, where as Sirris thinks she's adorable, and Winter thinks she is delightful. But the students think she's odd, and bully her quite often.

Recently the cow tf has disappeared lowering the quantity of milk for the cream puffs at the cafe. Making it harder to get money from that job. The real question is what transformation will be next wolf? Fox? Or back to cow?

Her ultimate goal is to reach 1 million dollars, finish the town projects, and help Alex's farm. We'll see what else happens as the game updates, or if there's a reset back to the beginning.

[hausofwoo]

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

[fuxuannie]

❥﹒ken sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — romantic headcanons about our favourite baseball player!

✦. love mail — i finished the movie and i loved his character development, simply the sweetest thing <3

✦. tags — SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, kenji sato x reader, i have not written in several months, i wrote this w my brain off ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) aka i was just SPITTING whatever brain rot came to mind

I imagine Kenji to be the clingy, but doesn’t want to be type. He loves you, so much, so dearly. But affection isn’t his strong suit, especially not after what happened with his family. He shut out emotions for years, at least towards others. So this feeling of love, a nostalgic one, tends to clash with the walls he’s put up. He’ll hold you in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, only for hours later to cringe at himself. He’s talked to you about it a thousand times, and he’s listened to you reassure him twice as many. He adores your patience with him, it's something he’s never really had.. especially with so much pressure on his shoulders.

Explaining his identity was surely no easy feat, you thought dating the most iconic and popular baseball players was the hardest thing? Imagine dating Ultraman, who came home to you every other week with some new injury. You always wondered why the reason was so simple for such a complicated wound, “I spilled boiling water on myself,” He explains with burn marks that are far more severe than expected. “I fell down the stairs”, he’ll say after landing in the hospital.. It didn’t make sense. And now that it does and you know the true reasons, your concern is far worse. Though he doesn’t mind the extra attention you give. ;)

Meeting his dad for the first time was.. nerve-wracking. You know how Kenji talks about him, and you weren’t sure what kind of impression you’ll make. But here you were, sitting on a couch and fiddling with your thumbs until you hear a doorbell. Before Kenji could even stand, you rushed to your feet and practically sprinted for the door, only to open it slowly and gently to reveal the kind old man standing outside. “Hello.” Cut to maybe an hour later, you’re laughing at old pictures of Kenji as he sits next to you and an arm wrapped around your shoulder. The two had a long path of forgiveness and understanding ahead, but Kenji appreciated that you brought him and his father together.

Thought the dad was scary? Imagine his daughter. As expected, the moment you walk into the room - distress. Emi’s starting to cry, an unfamiliar presence is in the room and it scares her. You’ve done a few babysitting jobs here and there, and she was really just like a child. Kenji apologized for her outburst and transforms to calm her down, opening the lid and picking her up under her arms. “No no, don’t cry.” His voice soothes her, and almost immediately - she’s okay again. It’ll take a few minutes, it really isn’t long until she trusts too you. Kenji found it adorable, how you played with her so casually.. many would be terrified, and rightfully so - but to him? It just displays your kind heart. My God did he love you.

Remember first headcanon? Right, to add to that, he’s not very good at vulnerability either. He’ll love to comfort you when you cry, or hold you when you need him. But if the roles were reversed? Absolutely not. He’s uncomfortable and you can see it, one look into his eyes and it’s like looking through glass.. he hates being open about his true feelings. Even if it’s with you.. the walls he’s built for 20 years aren’t easy to break, you know? But if you’re patient, and you take your time and say the right words – he’ll crack. And like a dam breaking, the water flows in an uncontrollable wave of sadness. He’ll sob, he’ll break, and he’ll need you more than anything. He doesn’t know how to feel about breaking down, but the way you hold him in your arms and whisper sweet nothings to comfort him, he could get used to it.

But on a lighthearted note, he loves dates! Most have to be in his home, because Emi can be clingy (got it from his dad), but you don’t mind. It’s sweet, he’ll have you play baseball with her or all you do is cuddle ontop of her, it’s the cutest little thing. But other times, when you go out– it’s just the two of you. And upon special request from Kenji for Mina to babysit her while you're there, you two get alone time. and it’s everything to him. The smallest affection has his heart racing like a teenage boy again, wrapping your arm around his, holding his hand, kissing him? Goodness, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it. You and Emi are his world, and he’ll do everything to protect it. Other days, you, him, and and his father go out to the home in the woods for some personal time. You get to talk about his childhood with him and you talk about yours. There’s such a tender and unforgettable atmosphere when you’re with them. And you truly feel like you belong.

Overotectiveness, he was full of it. He’s lost so much, and all he wanted was for you to not go either. Nothing, nothing could stop his rage at the idea of you being hurt. You, Emi, anyone else important to him. He’ll take on the world for his family, and by the will of his parents he has. The pain he’s endured, the scars you scold him for so much are for you. If one threat escapes the city, that’s one likely chance he loses you. So he does everything he can to handle it. You’ve never gotten hurt, but the idea of it is enough for him to strive to be stronger.

While recovering from the explosion, you never left his side. It pained you to see him so still, lack of life. He’d usually be pacing back and forth in the room, rambling about something, and when you’d call him a nerd or dork, he'd run to you and playfully attack you with kisses. His arms around you tightly as you two would laugh your worries away, you didn’t have that privilege. You’d either laugh alone or not at all, the pain all too much. When he wakes up, best believe you’re there, and you just cry at the sight of his arms opening. You know his body is far too unstable for a hug, so you squeeze his hand. How grateful you are to feel him squeeze back.

With Mina and Emi gone, the house feels a little more lonely.. but Kenji’s adjusting. Especially because you moved in! He’s able to spend more time with you in bed since he didn’t have to tend to Emi, which was a nice plus. He woke up earlier than you (force of habit.) and he’d just.. stare. Maybe it was a little creepy, but seeing you sound asleep in his arms gave him such joy. He loved the little domestic moments he shared with you, it had him appreciating all the smaller things in life. Like sharing a meal with you, or watching movies together. You made him love the simpler aspects of living.

[miyukisu]

Better Bite the Bullet .ᐟ

❤︎ | He's just trying to be a good best friend by teaching you a useful skill in life... blowjobs (2k wc) ╰ feat. iwaizumi hajime (hq) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 10 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, childhood bestfriends, Oikawa mention, blowjobs, handjobs, no p in v, p*rn with plot, virgin! reader

minors do not interact

You've known Hajime since you were in diapers, long enough that he had grown indifferent to your antics. He hasn't even looked up once from his phone as you paced tirelessly around his bedroom. You were losing your shit and Hajime was sitting on his bed without a care in the world.

A bright idea came to you in the form of making your footsteps louder in hopes that it would annoy him enough to catch his attention. He clicks his tongue once before narrowing his eyes at your moving form.

But not even a second later, his eyes were back on his phone one again. "What the hell are you even doing?" he asked.

"Pacing around. Isn't it obvious?"

He grumbles, finally turning his phone off and throwing it to the side where it landed on his pillow with a soft thud. "No shit Sherlock. I meant what are you pacing around for? It's annoying."

Finally, you stop in your tracks, facing your childhood best friend with your lower lip between your teeth. You've been dying to tell him what was on your chest an hour ago. But now that you're about to spill the beans to him—you found yourself tripping over your words.

"I guess... um... Oikawa kinda asked me to hang out soon... um..."

Hajime's interest was piqued. Normally he wouldn't give two shits about who Oikawa asked out. But this time it was you. An uneasy feeling brewed in his stomach, like he had drank rancid milk.

"And you're worrying about it like some middle schooler? C'mon you're in college," he deflects. Of course, it was his defense mechanism—to act all tough and harsh with the revelation.

You crossed your arms in defense. "I get that... but it's THE Oikawa Tooru that we're talking about here."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? Is your head not screwed on properly?"

Hajime rolls his eyes. Not only were you about to be whisked away by Oikawa, but you had the gall to act like a total brat right now.

"He's just asking to hang out—what's so amazing about that?"

Truth be told, you hadn't thought this far into what it would be like if you had this conversation with Hajime. You figured you wouldn't have to divulge the second—more embarrassing—part of this whole event.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips. You screwed your eyes shut as if to prepare for the impact of his reaction on what you have to say next.

"A friend of mine told me that when he says something like that... it usually leads to... you know..."

Hajime's eyebrow perked then silence ensued. He knew what you meant, of course. He wasn't born yesterday.

"To what? Fucking?"

Your eyes shot open at his vulgar choice of words. That's exactly what you meant, but you didn't think he'd be so blunt about it. "I mean—if it does get to that... obviously I won't just go all the way with him. I haven't even talked to him that much," you say—backpedaling.

"You won't go all the way, but you'll go somewhere huh?" he pried further. He played it off like he was teasing or, worse yet, mocking. But he wanted to know; he knew his friend's intentions, but he didn't know yours.

You nervously bit your lip again. This was going to be the third revelation of tonight. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that you'd be having his conversation with your childhood best friend.

"Maybe... maybe, yeah... that's what I'm nervous about..."

The uneasy feeling had grown worse. Hajime swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. "Then just don't," he suggests. "You could always just hang out normally."

Another sigh escapes you and you decide to sit beside him—plopping down on the mattress. You ran your fingers through your hair, smoothing out any tangles that had built up.

"I just wanna experience something... you know? I'll only be young and in college once..." you admit. At this point, there was no use in hiding it. Hajime knew every substantial detail anyway.

This time, it was Hajime who sighed. Part of him still felt dread, but another felt pity for you.

"Jeez..."

Hearing his reaction, you felt the urge to stand up and find your bearings. But a warm hand grips your wrist before you could go. You turn to look back and see Hajime's determined expression.

"I'll teach you then."

────────────

Hajime was a 100% sure not a single rational thought was left in either of your heads. Somehow, he thought that if only you touched him and not vice versa—it would be fine. And, somehow, you agreed to it.

You gulped at the sight in front of you, Hajime leaning against the wall on his bed with his dick out of his sweats.

"Well... that's certainly... something..."

"Do you also plan on commenting about his dick when you see it?"

His sarcasm was hardly appreciated right now, especially since you were sure that your nerves would send you into a tailspin.

"No, of course not. I just—fuck, fine. Let's get to it," you say before scooting closer to him.

Carefully, you reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his shaft. Hajime hissed softly, but you were too concentrated to even notice.

Mesmerized, you swiped your thumb over his tip and gave him a soft tug. His jaw was clenched so hard, trying to act like none of this fazed him. But the way you treated him so delicately was arousing in its own way.

You begin stroking him faster. "Is this okay? It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No, but," Hajime pauses before placing his larger hand over yours. "You could do it better though."

He was now guiding you—actually teaching you how to jerk a guy off. Your eyes were fixated on the way both of your hands glided up and down his shaft, slippery from the immense amount of pre.

But his eyes were on your face. Oddly enough, he found it endearing how focused you were at the task on hand (quite literally). He watched every time your face scrunched, how your mouth was a bit agape, and how your eyebrows would quirk up sometimes.

It was cute, he thought.

As soon as you figured out the pace and pressure, he let go of your hand, allowing you free reign over his dick. You felt it twitch. It was most likely a good sign at least. Even better now that he had his eyes closed, head thrown back against the wall.

Maybe this was easier than you thought. Maybe you could do something else. So your hand slows and your eyes trail up to his face. "Hajime."

"What?"

"Can I use my mouth?"

All the air was knocked out of his lungs upon hearing the words that left you. "Huh? What for?"

"No one's gonna be impressed by a handjob. Guys already do it on their own all the time," you reason.

Hajime clicks his tongue. "You don't have to do that kind of thing yet when you're this inexperienced."

He tried staying stern despite the almost pleading look on your face. Hell, he wasn't even sure why he was denying you. He could have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock in a second and here he was—acting like a righteous fool when he doesn't have to be.

Again, he clicks his tongue. But, this time, not because of you. He's annoyed at himself for having no restraint... for having no shame that he's kind of taking advantage of his best friend's naivety.

But to hell with it.

"Okay," he relents. Hajime watches as you get even closer to him. Only then do you feel the nerves consume you once more.

The newfound confidence you had earlier had quickly dissipated as soon as you began leaning down. It didn't help that his natural manly scent was intoxicating. It was warm—you felt it against your face—and it was achingly hard.

You pucker your lips on instinct, accidentally kissing his tip instead. Hajime thought you were doing it on purpose to fuck with him, not realizing that you were tripping out of nervousness.

"Don't be a tease."

"I'm not!" you countered before quickly wrapping your lips around his cock. The warmth of your mouth sent shivers down his spine. But the slight grazing of your teeth on his sensitive shaft made him uncomfortable.

"Ah shit.... less teeth. Gotta hollow out your cheeks a bit."

Your jaw was already hurting. Though it probably had less to do with your skill and more to do with his size. He seemed more manageable with just a hand, but now that you're using your mouth, the task seemed gargantuan now.

But you still try. You do as he says and you feel his entire body relax a bit. It takes a lot of your concentration to make sure your teeth were out of the way and your lips provided enough suction.

That alone had Hajime seeing stars. It wasn't the best blowjob of his life, but seeing that it was your head bobbing up-and-down on his dick was a sensation in and of itself.

After getting used to the basics, you decide to throw in a little bit of tongue action. It caught him by complete surprise and a soft groan spilled from his lips.

Scared that you had hurt him, you were about to lift your head to ask him, but his hand quickly places itself on top of your head. He wasn't rough nor did he forcefully keep your head down.

Instead, he began caressing your hair—starting from the top of your head, going down to smooth your locks. It was his way of reassuring you that he felt fine—amazing even. You were doing a damn good job for someone who hasn't done this before.

Hajime avoided using his voice throughout the whole thing to make it less intimate and more 'educational' if that even made sense. But he understood that you probably needed more reassurance.

"That's it," he started. "You're doing so well... so well for me."

Hajime had filthier things to say otherwise, but again, this was supposed to be 'educational'.

As much as you want to keep up the pace that you built, your jaw was too sore for that. A bit of a break wouldn't hurt, so you retract yourself—tongue lolled out with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. The sight alone would have made him bust, but he kept his composure... somewhat.

"Oh fuck..."

His words spurred you on, however. You settled on suckling his tip while your hand worked on the rest of his length. Having the best of both worlds made his head spin. His leaking tip was the most sensitive it had ever been and the fast pace of your hand made the coil in his stomach tighter and tighter.

Hajime wanted nothing more but to come in your mouth—consider it as payment for him teaching you. His dick began to twitch again like earlier, but this time you noticed the way his abs would tense up. The dampness that had been pooling in your underwear ever since you had his dick in your hand was starting to become distracting. But you pulled through.

"Fuckkk... I'm coming in your mouth," he announced. Thick white ropes of hot cum painted your tongue. The flavor was odd—something you've never tasted before. It made your face contort a bit.

He tried catching his breath after that single mindblowing orgasm. But through his high, he noticed the hesitation on your face. "You don't have to swallow that you—"

But he stops mid-sentence as he watched you gulp down his fresh seed. You've gone this far—might as well.

Hajime swore that he felt his dick twitch back to life, ready for more. He wasn't sure what you did to him. But now he was certain that you absolutely shouldn't do this with anyone but him.

"Fuck... forget about that moron. Have fun with me instead."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Wow... I'm actually kinda proud of this one?

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[sprintingowl]

Deadball

Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.

It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.

I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.

One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.

For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.

For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.

In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.

Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.

For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.

There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.

Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.

It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.

For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.

[aurumalatus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

I.

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year. 

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face. 

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness. 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue. 

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer. 

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places. 

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks. 

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly. 

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I…?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him. 

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side. 

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now. 

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” 

V.

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure. 

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing. 

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his. 

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

inspired by: in bloom- nirvana

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

[deathbxnny]

HEHEHEHEH HELLO AGAIN BXXNY!!!

I am so obsessed with this man even if he doesn't do big pp DMG and I have no idea how to use him he's still on my team (with Yelan Klee and Zhongli)

ANYWAYS!! Kinich with a girlfriend that's like his childhood best friend, both pretty obsessed with each other tbh, but Ajaw is a little shit that loves making Kinich's life hell, so he acts all sweet with reader, always crying crocodile tears to her and just sucking up to her, basking in all the attention and cuddles she gives him while making sure to paint Kinich in a bad light.

Of course reader knows Ajaw's little plan... but she does love seeing Kinich so frustrated, so she always agrees with Ajaw... I'll leave the rest to you!

(I'm so happy to get this other idea out you have no idea)

Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. | Kinich x Fem!Reader feat. Ajaw

I want to kiss your brain, dear moot!! Your idea is so good, I could eat it for dinner rn!!<33

Content: Jealous Kinich, established relationship, Ajaw being a menace as usual, fluff, kinda unserious, sfw

Reader is asked to be fem/afab!

((Not proofread))

Ajaw was always determined to make Kinich's life a living hell out pure of spite. Nothing else brought him so much joy, and therefore, he used all his free times to scheme and plan his next evil shenanigans against him. It wasn't an easy thing to do by no means, though, since the man was often unbothered and indifferent by his presence, going so far as to banish the dragon lord at times to get rid of him momentarily.

But all of his hard work became a lot lighter when you and Kinich finally became a couple after years of being "just friends". The dragon lord saw his golden opportunity for the perfect revenge, one he achieved through your kind, unsuspecting heart and kindness towards him.

To you, Ajaw could do no wrong. No matter what it was, you often took his side when he whined and gave you those perfectly teary eyes whilst accusing Kinich of being mean to HIM. That produced much better results than anything the dragon lord could've ever planned, and it brought him indescribable joy to see his dear companions visible annoyance.

Now, you ofcourse were very much aware of Ajaw's silly, evil plans, but seeing your boyfriend so easily angered and jealous at the attention you gave the menace of a creature he was stuck with, was unfortunately too cute to pass up. Of course, you'd make it up to him with gentle kisses and cuddle sessions... but until then, you played along.

Whenever Ajaw came flying to you out of "fear", after Kinich "threatened" to put him in time-out again, you'd coo at his plight and pat him on the head, a playful and sympathetic pout in your lips that ticked your boyfriend off.

At times, he'd even interrupt your time together during dates, demanding attention in the most dramatic ways possible, knowing how jealous it made the man who was very much obsessed with you. He could never be angry at you, but Ajaw was not spared from his wrath. He tried to stay calm and remind himself that it was all just to get a reaction out of him, but it was hard when he was close to reaching over and strangling him.

You eventually had to stop your games to calm him down and remind him that it was all indeed just playful banter... especially after Ajaw received the darkest glare known to man, when he attempted to ruin another date with you.

The allmighty dragon lord miraculously stopped his plans for a while, mainly because he suddenly didn't feel like facing your loving boyfriend's wrath after all...

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 04

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, smut. This is a very smutty chapter. Lots of locker room sex with our favorite hockey player. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You have no idea how you became such a hockey fan. You try to tell yourself that you are just here because ice hockey is a fascinating sport. And the Tigers are your college's pride, so attending the games and cheering for the team is almost obligatory.

And cheer you do. Maybe a little too enthusiastic, anytime Sukuna scores a goal, or when he slams an opponent brutally into the boards, or when he skates as fast as lightning over the rink with that mad grin on his face.

There's a little voice in your head that whispers to you that maybe you aren't so much a hockey girl but rather a Sukuna girl. But this is a thought you try to push into the furthest back of your mind.

And after all, in your defense, Sukuna is the star player of the Tigers, and the whole arena cheers for him!

After the game, Sukuna skates past you and lifts a hand in greeting, smirking at you through the plexiglass and yelling over the loud noises of the arena,

"Good job today, my lucky charm!"

And you laugh and smile broadly at Sukuna, yelling back at him that he played really well. He flashes you a smile, and his cat-like eyes trail slowly over you with a smug expression.

You give him a little wave when Yuuji and Todo skate up to him and take him in the middle to do another round across the rink for the cheering fans in the stands. And your treacherous eyes follow Sukuna the whole time he is on the ice until he finally skates over to the player's bench to collect his stuff.

That's when you remember that you still have Sukuna's hoodie. The hoodie which feels so soft and warm and, which, to your utter embarrassment, you didn't take off for several days. But it's time to return it, or things will look strange. So you washed it and brought it along to the game. Even though you have this irrational fear that Sukuna can somehow read your mind and will know exactly what you did with his hoodie. You don't ever want him to find out. Even though you would love to know if Sukuna finds the thought of you wearing his clothes just as exciting as you do.

You follow Nobara into the lobby but touch her forearm lightly to make her turn around and look at you. You hold up the hoodie, informing her,

"I have to give that back to Sukuna. Can we wait for the players to come out?"

Nobara gives you an amused look, far too knowing for your taste. She huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest,

"I won't waste my precious time waiting for some hockey boys."

She says the words hockey boys as if it is an insult. You sigh and are about to complain when she grins at you and adds,

"I have to hurry up, so I can take a shower before Maki comes over. But you can stay here and wait for your loverboy to come out!"

"Sukuna isn't my loverboy!"

"We'll see about that. Anyways. Have fun! I have to go!"

She waves at you and leaves you standing there while your heart is beating too fast and your face feels too hot at the implication that Sukuna and you could be lovers.

You sigh, looking around the lobby, trying to decide the best place to wait for Sukuna. You settle on making a left turn to walk down the corridor that leads toward the locker rooms. At least you can be sure you won't miss Sukuna this way.

The door to the men's locker room comes into view, and you slow down.

Suddenly, unbidden images of a shirtless Sukuna flood your mind. Sukuna changing, Sukuna half-naked, all buff muscles and tattooed skin. Sukuna in the shower. You feel a bit dizzy all of a sudden, and you shake your head as if it can help you get rid of those images.

Maybe it was a stupid idea to come here. Your mind keeps betraying you those last few days. Dirty thoughts about Sukuna haunt you night and day. Why does he have to be so sexy?

You lean against the wall, clutching Sukuna's hoodie to your chest as you wait. The minutes tick by, and you feel your nervousness grow. You are almost ready to bolt when you hear loud voices coming from the direction of the locker room, but before you can do so, the door gets pushed open, and you decide it would look weird if you run now, so you force yourself to stay, trying to look nonchalant as you turn your head to check if Sukuna is among the guys coming out of the locker room.

You spot pink hair and your heart jumps to your throat, but you realize a second later that it's Yuuji. The guys walk past you, casting curious glances at you, and you nod at them in greeting, smiling sheepishly as you mumble, "Good game."

The others walk past you, but Yuuji stops in front of you with a big smile on his face, greeting you as if the two of you are old friends.

It's kind of strange to look at Yuuji, seeing all the things that look exactly like Sukuna, the same tall and muscular build, the matching pink hair dye, the same face shape, the same way of cocking their heads. And at the same time, the twins look so different.

Sure, the face tattoos contribute a lot to the difference in appearance. But it's not just that. Sukuna and Yuuji give off completely opposite vibes. Their whole facial expression is different. While Yuuji smiles a bright sunshine smile that lights up every room, Sukuna walks around with that smug smirk on his face, always making you feel as if he is mocking everyone around him and thinking they are annoying little insects and nothing more.

While Yuuj's eyes have an almost golden glow and seem warm like honey, Sukuna's are that rich, deep maroon that seems so mysterious and almost devilish sometimes. His eyes always seem to be narrowed as if he is watching you closely, reading you like a book while he keeps his own soul carefully hidden, while Yuuji's eyes are big and open, and you feel like you can read every emotion he feels openly in his eyes.

Right now, those warm, brown eyes beam at you with a happy sparkle in them,

"You're waiting for my brother, right? You can go in! Sukuna is still in there."

Yuuji smiles his sunshine smile and jerks his head towards the door of the locker room. And you almost choke on your spit as you are quick to shake your head and splutter,

"Um... uh, thanks, but no. I will just wait here. I can't just go into the men's locker room."

Yuuji laughs, his eyes sparkling amusedly at you, and he shakes his head,

"No, it's okay! Trust me! Everyone else already left. It's only Sukuna in there. And he told me to send you to him."

What??

You stare at Yuuji with wide eyes.

"How did he know I would be here?"

Yuuji shrugs and scratches the back of his head a bit sheepishly,

"Kuna just knows things, I guess."

You blink at him but choose not to inquire any further. But your mind registers the nickname Yuuji uses for his brother. Kuna. It makes your stomach do a little flip for whatever reason.

You thank Yuuji and slowly make your way toward the locker room door, feeling as if you are in a daze.

You try to tell yourself you are only doing this because Yuuji is so nice, and you don't want to seem ungrateful, but deep down, you know that a part of you has longed to walk through that door ever since you came here. That part of you that keeps having dirty fantasies about Sukuna and is drooling over the thought of him coming out of the shower, wet and sexy and... You exhale sharply, forbidding yourself to think any further.

You stop in front of the door and cast one last glance over your shoulder at Yuuji, who nods encouragingly at you, and then you grab the door handle and push the heavy door open.

Steam greets you. Warm, humid air and a mix of sweat and various scented shower gels.

You gulp, feeling your heartbeat in your throat as the door closes behind you with a soft thud. You carefully take a few steps toward the lockers. The room looks pretty neat, probably because the team has already left. There is only one sports bag standing on the long bench, only one pair of grey sweatpants lying around, and a familiar pair of black and red Nikes waiting for their owner.

But there is no sight of him. Where is Sukuna? For a moment, you think you have fallen victim to some dumb prank, but then you hear it. The sound of running water.

Is he serious? He is still in the shower but tells me to come in here?

You feel so nervous all of a sudden, your head spinning with the thought of a very naked and very sexy Sukuna under the shower only a few meters away from you. It makes you turn on your heel, about to flee the locker room. But you get stopped by a familiar velvety voice that sounds far too smug,

"Already leaving, princess?"

You involuntarily jump, stopping in your tracks with your hand hovering just a few centimeters away from the door handle.

You gulp and slowly turn around again, pulse fluttering nervously as your gaze lands on Sukuna. He walks out of the locker room showers with only a white towel slung dangerously low around his narrow hips. His hair is still wet, looking dark pink instead of the usual light pink pastel tone. The wet strands hang into Sukuna's face, dripping water onto his broad, muscular chest, making small rivulets run down his firm pecs and abs.

He looks even better than in your fantasy. Tall and broad, with all those gorgeous muscles and sexy tattoos unashamedly on display. You can't stop yourself from letting your gaze follow some water droplets down his perfect body, over his buff pecs and taut abs and those two black lines that he has tatted onto his abdomen that disappear so tantalizingly in the low sitting towel, right next to his defined v-line.

You feel weak in the knees, your face burning, your heart hammering much too fast in your chest as you force yourself to tear your eyes away from Sukuna's naked chest and abs and instead lift your head to look into his amused maroon eyes.

"I... I have your hoodie."

You lift your hand that's holding the soft white sweater, and Sukuna's lips lift in that sexy smirk.

"Then why don't you bring it over to me?"

You don't even stop to think but automatically walk towards him as if he is pulling you toward him by some invisible string. As if you are caught in his web, but you don't even want to escape but want him to catch you and devour you.

You stop in front of him, your chest heaving heavily with your nervous breaths.

Sukuna is so tall, especially when you stand so close to him. You have to tilt your head back to look at his tattooed face, and it only adds to the excited tingle you feel buzzing in your veins. He is gorgeous. Tall and broad and sexy. And he knows it.

He smirks at you, a knowing glint in his beautiful maroon eyes as he takes the hoodie from you, his large, warm hand brushing over yours, cupping your hand a little too long.

And then he does something that makes you spin completely out of control.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, in that sexy bedroom voice,

"Good girl."

And his lips brush over your earlobe and then over your burning cheek. He is standing so close to you that you can feel his body heat emanating from him and smell his shower gel, sexy, fresh, and masculine.

When he pulls away, you are left staring at him with a dazed look and a wet patch in your panties.

Sukuna strolls casually over to his locker, slowly sitting down on the bench in front of it, and his maroon eyes never leave yours.

You feel trapped, unsure of what to do. You did what you came here for. You returned his hoodie. There is no reason for you to stay longer here in this locker room where you clearly shouldn't be, especially not when a fresh-out-of-the-shower hockey player is sitting here, about to get changed.

But there is another voice in your mind telling you that you are right where you should be. It's that voice that makes you take a tentative step toward Sukuna.

He is rubbing his hair with a second towel, ruffling the pink strands in the process, and you can't help but bite your lip at how attractive Sukuna looks. His thick tattooed biceps are flexed, his abs taut.

And then he spreads his thighs, making the towel split in the middle, revealing his muscular thighs, and you finally get a good look at the pair of tattooed bands high up on those gorgeous thighs, so sexy that it takes all in you, not to moan out loud. You want to curse yourself for the thoughts that run through your mind. The fantasy of being on your knees between those muscular thighs, licking and kissing those sexy tattoos, your mouth slowly trailing up higher.

You tear your gaze away, looking at Sukuna's face, not even trying to hide how affected you are by his half-naked body and the thick, steamy air in here that only adds to the atmosphere that's dripping with sexual tension.

Burning maroon eyes meet yours,

"Come here, princess."

Sukuna pats his thigh, leaving no doubt about what he means by "here."

You walk over to him without any hesitation this time, dropping your bag on the floor as you slip onto Sukuna's lap, straddling those muscular thighs as if this is the place you belong.

You are barely sitting on him when Sukuna's lips are already on yours, claiming them in a heated kiss that makes you gasp into his warm mouth. His large, strong hands are on your body, slipping around your waist and under your sweater, holding you, caressing your skin, and making your head spin. And Sukuna's tongue pushes hungrily into your mouth, flicking against your tongue in sexy caresses that make your pussy twitch.

Your hands tangle in his still-damp pink hair, tugging on it while you open your mouth eagerly and lick against Sukuna's skilled tongue, kissing him just as hungrily as he is kissing you, as if you want to devour each other.

Sukuna's large hands wander from your waist to your ass, kneading it firmly through your leggings, making you moan into the kiss and buck against him, gasping them you feel his hard cock press against you and hear his soft growl.

Your hands are wandering too, groping Sukuna's broad shoulders, caressing his buff pecs, digging your fingernails into his buff muscles, scratching them slightly, smiling when you hear Sukuna make a sexy little noise in the back of his throat, like a low purr.

You are grinding against each other desperatedlyy, your harsh breaths filling the locker room, making things even more humid and steamy. You don't even care that someone could walk in again. All you know right now are Sukuna's lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, and the feeling of his muscles under your fingers while his calloused hands are wandering over your body.

Sukuna is bold, letting one hand slip between your legs and rubbing you through your leggings and panties. You push eagerly against his hand, seeking more friction, not caring about how horny and needy you must seem, like a cat in heat.

Your panties and leggings are soaked through as Sukuna rubs his thumb over your clit, making you whine into his mouth. Maybe you should be embarrsed by how wet you are for him, but you don't care. Your hands are on his abs, exploring his body, feeling dizzy when you feel his firm muscles flex under your hands. You are hungry, hungry for more, hungry for him.

Your fingers wander lower, making Sukuna groan into your mouth when you trace the tattoos on his abs down to where they disappear in the towel. You open the towel impatiently pushing it to the side, exposing all of Sukuna's naked body to your greedy touch.

Your hips jerk when you feel the velvety heat of Sukuna's thick cockhead brush against your hand. It drives you crazy with the need to touch him.

Sukuna hums against your lips when your small hand wraps around his thick long cock and slowly strokes up and down his whole hard length. He feels so good in your hand, hot and velvety, rock-hard muscle and smooth skin. Your mind is hazy, driven by pure need and desire. Driven by one thought alone: You want him inside you.

Sukuna seems to have the same train of thought because he is tearing at your leggings, breaking your passionate kiss to trail his lips over your neck and practically growl,

"Get those damn trousers off."

You help him with them, hastily pushing them down, followed by your completely soaked panties, only slipping out of one leg in your haste to get that gorgeous cock inside you.

Sukuna pulls you back onto his lap, just as impatient as you, making you sit on him again, your thighs spread widely, your naked dripping pussy rubbing against his hot cock. Sukuna bucks his hips slowly, watching you with those sexy maroon eyes as he teases your swollen clit with his thick cockhead, making you shiver and mewl loudly as you dig your nails into his broad neck and look down to see the hot and nasty sight of Sukuna's mushroom head caressing your clit, coating himself in your juices.

"Do you want it like that, princess? Or do you want more?"

"More! Oh fuck, Sukuna, I want more, please!"

Sukuna lets out a sound that will be on your mind forever, a mix of a laugh and a moan, so sexy and low that it makes your pussy clench around nothing.

"Then come and get it."

He looks at you with a challenging, sexy glint in his eyes, licking his lips. His large hand is wrapped around his gorgeous thick cock, pumping it slowly, rubbing a few drops of pearly pre-cum out of the swollen dark pink tip before his hand comes to rest around the thick base of his cock, as if he is presenting himself to you unashamedly. Proudly.

And yes, he can be proud of that cock. He is so thick and long and fucking gorgeous with that fat mushroom head that has such a pretty dark pink color, just like Sukuna's hair right now when it is still wet from the shower.

And he is so hard. It makes you moan softly, seeing how bad Sukuna wants you. Just as hard for you as you are wet for him.

Sukuna's broad, muscular chest is heaving while some stray water droplets slowly run down his smooth, tattooed skin, and he smirks that sexy smirk at you while holding his cock for you, offering it to you.

You feel like you have a fever when you place your hands on Sukuna's broad shoulders and position yourself over his gorgeous thick cock, while you feel your wild heartbeat in your chest and in your pussy.

Sukuna's breath is heavy, too, ghosting over your neck as he guides his mushroom head to your dripping hole, rubbing slow, teasing circles around it that make you mewl desperately.

You push down onto Sukuna's fat swollen cockhead, your eyes closing as you feel it split you open, so thick and hot.

You gasp when you sink down on him, feeling the burn of the stretch. Even though you are so wet and ready for him, it is still a foreign feeling to take such a thick cock. Your pussy automatically clenches around him, making Sukuna curse under his breath.

His lips are on your neck again, kissing and licking hungrily, while his large hands wrap around your waist, and you sink down further on him. A loud breathless moan falls from your lips when you finally sit all the way down, the back of your thighs resting completely on Sukuna's thighs, your pussy stuffed to the brim with his whole fat length, his heavy balls resting against your ass.

Sukuna's voice is low, dripping with sex,

"Fuck, yeah. Such a good girl, taking all of me. Come on, princess, fuck me. I played so well today. I deserve a little reward."

His words drive you crazy, making you moan and twitch, and you start moving on him, pushing yourself up and down on his thick cock, gasping at how full you feel.

Sukuna's calloused hands are on your ass again, kneading it and helping you ride him, lifting you up and down on his girthy length easily. His movements change the angle slightly, and you sob loudly when his mushroom head pushes against that sweet spot inside you that makes you tremble from how good it feels.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly against your neck,

"Aww, so cute. I found it, huh?"

Your hands tighten on his broad neck while you nod and whimper while desperately bouncing on Sukuna's cock, seeking more of that ecstatic feeling, not caring how needy you look.

But you aren't the only one who is getting lost in pleasure. Sukuna is groaning against your skin, too, sounding so sexy, making you ride him even harder. He bucks his hips fucking into you, making you giggle and whine at the delirious feeling of having Sukuna's dick inside you, hitting all the right spots.

You are both in a sex haze, your bodies moving greedily against each other while the obscene noises of uninhibited sex fill the locker room. Breathy moans and low growls, and the loud, wet slapping of skin against skin.

You are riding Sukuna wildly, all inhibitions gone, chasing your orgasm, sobbing because it feels so good. You know that it will happen, that Sukuna will make you cum with his cock alone. It's something no other guy ever managed before. But you can already feel your orgasm building inside you. You press your face against Sukuna's tattooed neck, leaving heated kisses on his sweaty skin. Your sobs turn into muffled squeals as you feel his fat mushroom head fuck you closer to ultimate bliss.

When it happens, you scream his name. Your pussy tightens around Sukuna, squeezing his cock, making you delirious with how taut your body gets, how your heart races, and your vision blackens. You shudder around Sukuna's thick cock, feeling tears run down your cheeks from how incredibly good it feels. You keep bouncing on him desperately, drawing the blissful feeling out, sobbing and crying as you ride out your whole orgasm on Sukuna's gorgeous cock.

"Fuck, princess!"

Sukuna's large hands tighten on your waist, and he pulls you up, lifting you off his cock as he hisses loudly, barely making it in time before he cums too.

He lets his head fall back, a low sexy groan falling from his lips as his eyes close and his broad body shudders, his buff muscles tensing up as he cums all over your belly and his abs, shooting his hot white cum all over both of you. You look at him with your mouth hanging open, moaning softly. Watching Sukuna cum is the hottest thing you have ever seen. He looks so beautiful, so sexy, with the way his eyes close and those sexy low groans fall from his parted lips.

You sit back on Sukuna's thighs, breathing heavily as you trail your gaze down to his lap, where Sukuna's tattooed hand is wrapped around his twitching cock, pumping it slowly, rubbing his whole orgasm out of his dick.

You can't stop yourself and reach out, joining him, wrapping your smaller hand around his hard length, too, so Sukuna and you stroke his cock together, milking his thick warm seed out of his twitching mushroom head. The locker room is filled with both of your breathy moans and your muttered, "Oh damn, this is so hot," when you feel Sukuna's warm cum run down your hand.

Sukuna laughs, a sexy low rumble, and you manage to tear your gaze away from his cock and his cum on your hand and look at his face instead. He is smiling lazily at you, maroon eyes almost black with how dilated his pupils are.

Sukuna grabs your hand and pulls it off his spent cock and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, grinning at you as he flicks his tongue over a small trickle of his cum.

Your head is spinning as you stare at him. He is so nasty, and it drives you crazy, makes you want to kiss him and fuck him until the sun rises!

But you are gradually coming down from your post-orgasmic bliss, becoming too aware of your current position, half naked on Sukuna's lap with your wet pussy drooling over his muscular thighs, the sticky feeling of his cum on your belly, where your sweater rode up while riding him. You feel too exposed suddenly and scramble hastily to get off Sukuna's lap, almost slipping down, but strong hands catch you.

Sukuna helps you climb off his lap, surprisingly gentle, steadying you with his large hands and only letting go when he sees you are able to stand on your trembling legs.

You feel your face burn again as you take the towel Sukuna hands you to wipe his cum off your belly before you pull your sweater down again. There's an awkward silence when you step into the left leg of your panties and leggings again and jump a bit to pull them up while Sukuna is behind you, rummaging around in his locker.

Luckily, he is already in his sweatpants and is shrugging into his t-shirt when you turn around. You almost can't look at him, feeling so embarrassed by what the two of you just did. That unrestrained, primal fucking right here in the middle of the locker room, where anyone could have walked in at any moment.

You wring your fingers nervously, slowly backing away towards the door. But Sukuna's low voice stops you,

"Don't forget your hoodie."

You frown at him in confusion,

"What? That is your hoodie. I gave it back to you..."

But Sukuna just smirks that infuriatingly attractive smirk and cocks his head, maroon eyes sparkling with mischief,

"I never said I wanted it back, did I? Keep it. I have enough other team hoodies. And I like the way it looks on you."

"Oh... okay... thanks."

You barely have time to bring up your hands to catch the soft white hoodie that Sukuna is throwing in your direction as he laughs softly. He joins you a moment later, having finished getting dressed and slinging his sports bag over his broad shoulder.

You feel flustered just from looking at him right now. But contrary to you, Sukuna is all unbothered and confident, completely unashamed about how you fucked each other's brains out just a few minutes ago.

He holds the door open for you with a wide grin on his handsome face, all gentlemanly, letting you walk through the door before he falls in step beside you, so tall and big next to you that it makes your pulse flutter, especially now that you know how he looks naked and how he feels under your touch, how he feels inside you.

You barely resist the urge to bury your burning face in your hands.

Sukuna pulls a battered pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket and casually lights a cigarette behind his large hand, taking a deep drag and sighing contentedly as he turns to you with a grin, blowing the smoke out in your direction.

"That was a nice victory fuck, princess. You are really a top-tier lucky charm."

And you still splutter and stumble over your words when Sukuna is already lightly jogging towards the street corner leading to his and Yuuji's apartment. The last thing you see of him is a wink and another sexy smirk.

You take forever to walk home, taking a detour through the park and around the baseball pitch because you need to calm down and clear your thoughts before you face your roommate.

Pictures of Sukuna's muscles and tattoos flash before your eyes, the sounds of his low groans, the feeling of his cock stretching you out. You gulp hard. You can still feel him. Hell, you will probably still feel the slight burn of his thick cock for the whole next day! It makes you press your legs together, which only makes your face heat up more when you feel the uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You think you never were that wet for a guy before.

You groan in annoyance even as a giggle bubbles out of your mouth, and you shake your head in total disbelief at what you did today.

When you finally step into your apartment, you get greeted by a glaring Nobara with her hands on her hips.

"Where were you all this time?"

And you slip out of your shoes, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to keep yourself from laughing hysterically,

"In the men's locker room. With Sukuna."

You can't suppress your laughter anymore as you quickly run to the bathroom, locking yourself in there while Nobara screams outside the door,

"You were WHAT!!??"

GRRRRR I WANT HIM SO BAD 😵😵❤️❤️

I hope you enjoyed your little trip to the locker room ;) I was losing my mind the whole time while writing this!!

Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on the story so far!! It means a lot to me that you like Hockey Player!Sukuna ❤️❤️

Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

In Chapter 5, Sukuna and Reader decide to become fuckbuddies.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 3

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4

Chapter Summary: The date is just beginning, but you're not sure if you can keep it together.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, coercion, threats (not against reader), creepy and unhinged behavior, possessiveness, manipulation, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You took a deep breath and another, but it didn’t stop your heart from picking up in your chest. It was a feat that your legs didn’t give out. Your throat felt rough and raw, except you hadn’t screamed. You hadn’t made a sound. Not until Bucky moved toward you, pulling a whimper from you.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he said, cupping your face with a smile. You wanted to believe there was a warmth behind it or that he had a voice in his head telling him that this wasn’t right. That none of this was right. “Don’t you like them?”

“The flowers. The guy who bought them…” you swallowed, wondering exactly who he was and how he was associated with Bucky. Did Bucky know him well or was he a stranger? Did he bribe him into going into his shop?

“Oh, he’s fine,” Bucky assured you, which didn’t make you feel any better. “Loved the tulips you helped pick out for him. I know his girl will be very happy to get them, too.”

The citrus and woodsy combination of Bucky’s cologne filled your nostrils as you took another deep breath. You expected to stumble back when he suddenly crouched down, but you didn’t budge an inch. Once again, you were frozen in fear. Why couldn’t you move? You told yourself he wouldn’t hurt you. Why bother dragging you all the way to his place for that when he could’ve done so in your home?

Or, apparently, your place of work.

“Why don’t we have some of that wine after I show you around?” He asked, retrieving the clutch you dropped.

“Do you really expect me to just sit and have a drink with you?”

“Not just a drink,” he said, slowly standing and reminding you just how large he was. “Dinner. Dessert.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” You asked.

He nodded over your shoulders. “There’s one right behind you.”

You turned and went into the bathroom, careful not to lock the door behind you as much as you wanted to. He may have broken down the door if you tried. You gripped the sink as you struggled to take your next breath, blood rushing in your ears as you looked at your reflection. A voice in the back of your mind whispered to stay calm when tears threatened to spill over for the second time that evening.

Could you though? Could you play along and get through this night without having some sort of breakdown? You had to try.

Your attention was pulled away by the soft knock on the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Would you care if I wasn't?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

The door opened a heartbeat later, but you didn't dare meet his gaze in the mirror as he approached. Not even as he pressed himself against your back, your body trapped between his and the sink. It was suffocating. He brought a hand up to lift your chin, forcing your eyes to lock with his. The light above the mirror put a spotlight on the intensity of his gaze as his lips brushed your ear.

“I care more than you think,” he whispered, turning you to face him. His fingers traced the column of your neck before he let go. “In time, I know you’ll see that.”

You fought the urge to laugh as he led you back into the entryway. If he cared, he would’ve gone about this whole thing differently. You focused your attention instead on the penthouse, taking in more of the decor as he showed you around. As immaculate as the place looked, it lacked a personal touch. Where were the photos? Trinkets?

“What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful place,” you answered. And it was beautiful, but it didn't feel like a home or lived in like your place.

“A bit spacious for just me,” he said, glancing at you. Was it his roundabout way of stating again how he expected you to move in?

“Yeah, it’s a lot for one person, but it’s still nice.”

He nodded in agreement. “The couch is comfortable if you ever want to take a nap,” he said, an almost knowing look in his eyes as you stopped at the living room. Jesus, did he know you slept on your couch last night? “Though I’d prefer you sleep in our bed.”

“Our” bed. Not subtle at all. “I know you said this would be my place one day, too, but maybe we should get well past the first date before we talk about sharing a bed,” you said, sarcastically adding, “I hog the blankets, so I hope you're prepared for that.”

He chuckled and you wished you didn't like the pleasant sound. “You can have as many blankets as you want. And I had every intention of showing you the master bedroom tonight, but I think I’ll wait.”

“Really?” You asked, hoping you didn't sound too eager to avoid seeing it. Was there a catch?

“Really,” he said, pulling you close by the hips. Through his clothes, you felt how firm he was. There was strength there you couldn't match. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. And when I take you to bed, I’m going to ruin you. That's a promise.”

A shuddering breath left your lungs as he leaned in, his lips skimming yours.

“But I’m not the monster you think I am, which is why I’m going to wait,” he whispered.

It was a relief that Bucky wasn't going to take you to bed. Not tonight, at least. At the same time, what exactly was he waiting for? He made it clear that he wanted you and wasn't going to let go. What game was he playing?

Thinking about it was enough to drive you mad.

“And you won't hurt me?” You questioned. You had to hear him say it.

“I’d never hurt you,” he promised, pulling away at the two knocks on the front door.

He wouldn't hurt you, but what about other people?

“Chef’s here, boss,” the guard’s voice rang out.

“Perfect timing,” Bucky smiled.

He kept a hand on you as he guided you to the kitchen, the guard and who you assumed to be the chef entering seconds later. “Mr. Barnes, so good to see you.”

“You as well,” Bucky replied, his demeanor professional and somewhat colder.

Your eyes went back to the guard as Bucky chatted with the chef. He seemed to avoid your gaze, keeping his eye instead on the two men speaking. Did he know the circumstances that brought you here? Would he care if he did?

“You’re sure this is what you’d like, Mr. Barnes? This is a relatively simple meal,” the chef scoffed, making a show of gesturing to the ingredients. It dawned on you as you looked at them that he was going to prepare one of your favorite meals. Your stomach dropped, but you kept quiet. Of course, Bucky knew.

And of course, it wasn't sophisticated.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as if he sensed your embarrassment. The guard didn't look impressed by the chef’s comment either. “It’s her favorite. Are you insulting my girl’s taste?” he spoke, making you shiver from the ice in his tone.

“No, Mr. Barnes. Of course not! I meant no disrespect.” The chef shook his head, meeting your gaze with a shaky smile. “To be simple is to be great.”

“That’s right. Simplicity is also to be respected,” Bucky said, pointing a gloved finger at him. “And with your reputation, it better be the best meal she has ever had. I’d hate to see what happens if she doesn’t like it.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered. It was better to focus on easing the situation instead of yet another reminder that he knew another intimate detail about you. That and you felt bad as the man behind the counter began to sweat. “I’m sure the meal will be delicious. Thank you for taking the time to come here and prepare it.”

The tension dissipated as Bucky softly smiled at you, a crisis averted for the time being. “We’re going to enjoy our wine on the balcony while he prepares our meal,” he told the guard. “Keep an eye on him.”

“Will do.”

Bucky took you away from the kitchen before the chef could speak another word to you. Fresh air might help you breathe easier. He opened the glass door, the night breeze making you shiver as you stepped outside. The view of the city stretched on and the moon and stars lit up the sky. It was breathtaking.

You jumped when Bucky put his jacket around your shoulders. The romantic gesture felt like a claim. “I hope his comment didn't upset you. If it did-”

“It’s fine. Really,” you assured him, glancing at the two-seater table as he pulled out a chair for you. Two glasses were set out as well, along with what you knew to be an expensive bottle of wine. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is,” he agreed, your cheeks flaming when you saw him looking at you instead of the view.

“Do you spend a lot of time out here?” You asked.

He popped the cork on the bottle and poured each of you a small amount. You almost thanked him for that. You had to keep your wits about you.

“Not as much as I’d like to,” he said, nodding to a small sofa in the corner as he took a seat. “But I do like to read out here.”

“You read in your free time?” You asked, biting back a moan when you sipped the wine.

His eyes lit up and just as quickly darkened when you licked your lips. “I do. Reading has always been a hobby of mine. I even have first editions of some of my favorite books.”

“That’s really nice,” you smiled. For a moment it felt like the two of you were having a normal conversation.

That good feeling went away when he took out a velvet box.

“Can’t forget about the surprise,” he smiled before he handed it over. It looked too long to be a ring box, thankfully, but it wouldn't have surprised you if there was an engagement ring inside. Which was likely why your hand shook as you opened it.

The diamond pendant was stunning enough to make you gasp. Five stones each a different shape, they sparkled under the moonlight. The kind of necklace you could only dream of having.

“Bucky, I’m sorry.” You shut the box and slid it back across the table toward him. “I can’t accept this.”

His gaze flickered to the box before he looked at you again. You wanted to believe he looked concerned, but he hadn’t exactly taken any of your feelings into consideration so far. “Why not? We can pick out another together if you’d rather have something else.”

“I can’t accept it because it’s too much,” you said. Accepting the gift would make the situation more real.

He chuckled after a moment. “No, it isn't. Nothing would ever be too much for me to give to you.”

You reached across to tap the top of the box. “Bucky, this is the kind of gift that you give to your wife or fiancé or girlfriend. Hell, maybe a mistress or a sugar baby. I’m none of those things.” Something flickered in his gaze and that should’ve been your warning to stop, but you kept going anyway. “I’m not your girl.”

He took your hand before you could pull it away, his jaw clenched. “You’re right about one thing. You’re not my mistress or a sugar baby,” he agreed. “You could never be those things because you are the only one I see.”

But why? It didn’t make any sense to you. “But-”

“Girlfriend, fiancé, wife,” he ticked off with the fingers of his free hand. “We'll get to all those phases of our relationship, so you might as well accept this gift now or you'll be accepting much more than this later.”

You swallowed, but didn’t attempt to pull away. His grip didn’t hurt and you didn’t know exactly what he was implying, but you didn’t want to find out tonight. Not when he promised he wouldn’t drag you off to his room. “Thank you for the wonderful gift.”

He smiled and took the box as he stood. You didn't protest as he moved to put the necklace around your neck nor did you flinch when his fingers moved along on your skin. When he sat back down, he sighed and lovingly looked you over. “It's beautiful. Just like I knew it would be on you."

You touched it after a moment, the feel of his fingertips still lingering. “I didn't expect something so nice for a first date.”

“This is only the beginning.” He tilted his head and let his eyes watch you trace the delicate gems. “You deserve so much more.”

“Is this some elaborate joke?” You scoffed a bit. He sounded so sure of himself, that he believed you deserved the world. But why? “You do realize that I'm just a florist. And I don't say that to belittle my career because I love what I do, but I'm nothing special.”

Sadness took over his eyes. “Why would you say that?”

You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with the stranger who broke into your home. You didn’t want to have any sort of conversation tonight. “Because I don't own the flower shop I work at. I'm not rich. Hell, I lived with a roommate until last year just to save up and afford my own place. You should know since you researched me,” you said without a trace of bitterness. “I’m not a party girl. I don't turn heads wherever I go. I just want to work with my flowers, go home, and live a simple little life.”

His eyes followed the motion of you biting your lip again before he shook his head. “You think being rich and owning a business are the things it takes to make someone special?”

“No, I don't think that.”

“Then what does?”

You looked around the balcony with a sigh before meeting his gaze again. “Who a person is makes them special.”

“Yet everything you stated has nothing to do with who you are. So I’ll ask again, why would you say you're nothing special?”

You didn't know how to respond. You thought he would’ve just dropped the conversation, so you looked into your lap with a shake of your head. If you were special, wouldn’t you have found someone by now the way Addision and your other friends had? You didn’t want to pour out your insecurities, even if he seemed to hold an invisible knife and was ready to cut them open. “I don't know. I just know I’m not.”

He hummed a little. “So, would someone who is nothing special make homemade meals for her neighbor because she recently had a baby and probably wouldn't have time to cook for herself?”

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly hurt yourself. “How-”

“And not only are you in Addison's wedding party, you offered to have her flowers done so she could have more money for her honeymoon. You're telling me that being caring and thoughtful doesn’t make a person special?”

Goosebumps raised on your skin, realizing just how thorough he was in his research of you. “How do you know all of that about me?” Tears sprang to your eyes and you blinked them back. “I didn't tell anyone about my neighbor or the flowers.”

He cracked a small smile. “That's one of the things that makes you special. You don't do those things expecting anything in return and you sure as hell don't do it to brag. You do them because you care.” He took a second to lean back in his seat, his eyes still on you. “When I see something I want, I give it my all. And I'm not afraid to use my resources. I told you, I like to be thorough.”

You giggled. A hysterical sort of giggle. One that scared you because you had never laughed like that. “I don't know if I can do this,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I shouldn't be here. I should be getting a restraining order.”

Bucky didn't look offended in the slightest. “You could try. Do you think it’ll stop me?”

What little resolve you had left snapped. “Oh, my god. Do you hear yourself? I mean, really hear yourself?!” You snapped, tempted to throw the remainder of your wine on him when he didn’t react. “You know what a first date is, right? It’s two people trying to get to know each other and to see if there’s a mutual connection. You didn’t give me a chance to form a connection with you because you decided it for me after you stalked me.”

His brows pinched like you hurt his feelings. “Doll-”

“You know ‘everything’ about me, but what do I know about you, huh?” You continued, your anxiety bubbling over. “I know that you own a club and that you break into homes and scare the shit out of people. Oh, and that you read. And you apparently have the world at your fingertips since you can send people into my place of work and find out details about me that most aren’t privy to. You could probably use those resources of yours for good or to help others, but you used them to dig into my life when I didn't ask you to!”

“Some people do research before a first date,” he pointed out, not raising his voice.

“Not a full background check! I’m not an employee of yours and I’m not a toy for you to play with!” You huffed as you sat back, suddenly exhausted. How was he unphased? “You really think you have a say in my future? Are you that much of a control freak that you think you can control me?”

The silence stretched on as Bucky considered you and your body trembled as he idly sipped his wine. You weren’t the type to snap and you suddenly felt the urge to apologize for your outburst, which wasn’t fair. He put you in this situation, so why did you want to make it better?

Because you didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m not trying to control you,” he stated, handing you a handkerchief.

“It feels like you are and that isn’t fair,” you said, dabbing at your eyes. Life wasn’t exactly fair though, was it? “And for the record, the only reason I’m not tossing this wine on you is because it’s delicious and it would be a waste.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed. “I wish you could’ve met my mom. She would’ve loved you,” he said so softly you almost missed it, the change in topic jarring to say the least. What happened to her? “I’ve tried traditional dating. It doesn’t and hasn’t worked for me so far. The last woman I dated? She tried to rob me, if you can believe that.”

You sighed, still a bit worn out from your rant. “I can,” you said. There were greedy people in the world and he seemed to have more than enough to provide others with a comfortable life. It wasn’t right that someone tried to take what he earned.

It also wasn’t right what he was doing to you.

“In my line of work, everyone wants something from me. Money, power, favors. It’s hard to trust people,” he said, his gaze surprisingly soft as he took your hand again. “But not you.”

“Because that’s not the kind of person I am,” you guessed.

You were in many ways the opposite of him. While you weren’t poor, you certainly weren’t rich or powerful and didn’t want to use people for your gain. Perhaps that was why he wanted you so badly. You were someone who didn’t want anything from him. Someone like you was easy for him to control since you didn’t run in that kind of circle, even if he said he wasn’t trying to.

Maybe you should have put up a fight instead of making yourself an easy target.

Wait, why were you blaming yourself?

“I know it isn’t,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “So, maybe I’m a control freak and maybe my approach is a bit extreme, but I don't want to control you. I like who you are, doll. You’re loyal and caring and real. The kind of person I want and need.”

You took a sip of wine so you didn't have to respond. He needed you, so he said, but did you need him? And why did his praise warm your insides? You didn't want it to feel nice.

“And maybe I like that you aren’t the kind of person who has a hidden agenda and that you aren’t a party girl. Even you snapping at me. I love that fire. I want more of it. Burn me with it if you want,” he continued, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “Fuck, I can’t take my eyes off you. And I can't stop thinking about you.”

The look in his eyes put you on edge. “But we-”

“You’re good for me and you may not believe I’m good for you, but I am. We’re right for each other,” he said. The fierce determination in his gaze almost had you believing it. “And aren’t you tired of being lonely? I know I am.”

Loneliness could eat away at a person. Drive them to do desperate things. It didn't excuse his actions.

“Lonely or not, you can't force us to be together,” you said.

“I’m not forcing us to be together. You chose to be here tonight.”

“You know why I came here,” you argued. He had to know you did this because of his threat. “And I’ll behave or do whatever I need to do for the rest of the night, but I can't promise anything beyond that.”

Instead of anger like you expected, he smiled. Like a wolf flashing his teeth before sinking into its prey. “That’s okay because I have a promise for you,” he began, the flame dancing in his eyes. “You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The balcony door opening covered up the wheeze you let out, but didn't hide the despair written all over your face. He couldn't be serious. “Dinner’s ready,” the guard stated.

Bucky didn't spare him a glance as he stood and kept your hand in his, your appetite gone as his smile widened. “C’mon, doll. Better not let it get cold.”

Ooh. Will he really have you out of your place that soon? How awkward will that meal be? And who do we think this guard is? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[maxtermind]

requesting an f1 fic inspired by the song “reckless driving” by lizzie mcalpine ft ben kessler? 🙏🙏 (any driver & i adore your work)

never felt this way with no one

★ : feat :: oscar piastri x reader ★ : genre :: flufff, mature ★ : word count :: 1k+ ★ : a/n :: i love lizzy so much, this was so fun to write

you were driving while a slow song was playing on the radio and as soon as there was a red light, you stopped and smiled before turning your head to look at—

oscar held your face in his hands before slamming his lips against yours. you eyes widened before you closed them and kissed him back.

he tasted sweet like the dessert you guys got before leaving the restaurant.

he deepened the kiss as his hand slipped from your face to the back of your head. it was too consuming but good.

as you got lost in mingled breaths and soft lips, the light turned green and a loud horn from behind had you stumbling backwards.

oscar cleared his throat as you started the car again. refusing to face you because his face was tinted and his heartbeat was so loud he could hear it in his ears.

what he missed out on was your own cheeks that were burning as your mouth stayed in an upright position. hard to stop smiling because this— him. it was exactly what you you were expecting from today through all the nervous getting ready for the date.

"i'm sorry..." he started before you shook your head.

"i'm glad you did, don't apologise." you murmured trying to breathe and get rid of your smile.

"i wouldn't have... i mean i wanted to but—"

you stumbled over your words but finally looked at him as oscar's hand squeezed your hand that was closest to him.

"i wanted to do it more." he admitted. "i've been thinking about it all night. i just... i wasn't sure if you'd want me to."

you chuckled as you shuffled to get comfortable in your seat, your eyes on the road, feeling a little braver now.

"oscar, i've been hoping you'd kiss me since you picked me up."

he laughed, the sound light and full of relief. "really? i've been so nervous. i kept trying to find the right moment."

you turned onto a quieter street, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. fuck, where were you even driving to? one kiss and the man had turned you into a mess

"i guess the red light was the perfect moment."

oscar nodded, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "yeah, it was."

you glanced at him to see why he trailed off and were satisfied to see that he was already looking at you— at your lips and your skin felt like it was on fire.

you knew what he wanted because you wanted the same— more.

oscar sighed as you pulled into a parking lot, putting the car in park before turning to face him fully. your insides burning with the desire to feel his skin again.

"well, we're not driving anymore." you whispered, not knowing where this recklessness was coming from.

oscar grinned and shook his head as he leaned in close once again. "no, we're not."

he kissed you again, this time slower, more tender. you wanted to be careful, not wanting to kill the flame before it was even lit but as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, you melted into him, your hands threading through his hair.

and you decided that just this once, you’ll give in and let him take the lead even if his hands are off of the lead.

the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. your breaths mingled, the car feeling both too small and too intimate. but you guys were too far gone now when he pulled you over onto his lap.

oscar's hand slid under your shirt, his touch feather-light against your skin as you gripped his thigh. you gasped softly when he rubbed circles on your waist and kissed down your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his as you both tried to catch your breath. "oscar," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

he looked into your eyes, his own dark with desire. "god you’re driving me insane," he admitted, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, suddenly you brain too foggy to reply coherently, feeling the same burning need. "i want you too."

his hands continued roaming over your body, exploring, caressing. your own hands were busy, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. you managed to get it open, your hands sliding over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles.

oscar's lips found your collarbone, kissing, nibbling. you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you realized that he was leaving a mark. the heat between you was almost unbearable.

but then, as you both tried to maneuver in the cramped space, you couldn't help but laugh. the steering wheel, the gear shift, everything was in the way.

"i'm too jelly, i can't drive," you admitted, breathless and laughing.

oscar grinned, his own laughter joining yours. "you know i can drive," he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

you cracked a joke, unable to resist. "would i be worried about your driving skills off the track?"

"i think you'll be safe with me." he laughed, the sound rich and full. “won’t let anything happen to you baby.”

you leaned in for one more kiss, slow and sweet, savoring the taste of him. when you finally pulled back, you were both smiling.

oscar took the keys from you, and moved to the driving seat, still feeling the lingering heat of his touch on your skin.

you didn’t know how this happened, but you were glad it did. that it went this far. feeling like a teenager when you noticed that oscar couldn’t keep his eyes on the road.

“eyes on the road,” you joked, your breath hitching suddenly when he leaned over to squeeze your thigh in reply.

you sneaked your hand towards his vacant one and intertwined your fingers, blushing furiously when he pulled the joined hands towards his mouth to leave a kiss.

"want to go back to my place?" he said shyly, expecting you to turn him down.

but you felt a warmth spread through you at his question, the simplicity of it making your heart swell. "yes, i would love that," you whispered, your voice soft and full of affection.

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[dearieshima]

winner

feat. what happens if no nut november comes around, and you're almost there at the finish line, and the girl you pined over since highschool, finally wants to fuck you?

God had granted him the ultimate temptation– the chance to fuck one of his perfect angels, and it felt like divine retribution for not seizing such a heavenly opportunity.

c.w. cowgirl, breast worship, unprotected sex, loser boy gojo, afab!reader

Gojo Satoru is the kind of guy people talk about. A natural winner in every way that matters.

He walks around campus like he owns the place, because he might as well have, since his net worth was three million by the time of his conception.

He’s the one everyone wants to be or be with—athletic, good-looking, blessed with charisma, and even intelligent. People gravitate toward him as if he’s the sun, and it seems like everything in his life just falls into place.

So it was only natural he would accumulate jealousy brewing among some students. They love to admire him, sure, but secretly, they waited for a crack to appear in his perfect image, eager for it to crumble.

So when November rolled around, Geto and a group of underclassmen saw an opportunity. They set up a bet, daring him to a challenge: for the entire month, Gojo was forbidden from his usual playful flirting and pursuits. A month of self-restraint for a guy who usually had the university’s most admired women hanging on his every word.

He shrugged it off. The only woman he truly wanted was you, from the start, anyway. The only true threat to his virtue was his hand itching to jerk him off to the thought of you. Other than that, he was fine.

…

Well, something happened.

Gojo couldn't remember what triggered it, why your lips were suddenly pressed against his. Perhaps it was the cheesy sex scene playing out on the screen, or the dumb joke he made about the actor's dick - it must have been a particularly good, dumb dick joke to elicit such a response from you.

The specifics leading up to this moment didn't matter. This was what he had fantasized about endlessly since high school, and now here you were, in his arms, your body flush against his.

But as your hand slid down his thigh, brushing against the throbbing bulge straining against his pants, a sudden realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. He had been strong for 24 days, resisting temptation and keeping his resolve. But now, with you so close, so eager, his resolve stood a chance of a house of cards against wind.

"Fuck," he groaned, pulling back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Wait… goddamn it."

You blinked at him, confusion flashing across your face, then understanding cleared it all away. "... Did you…?"

“No, no– thank fuck no,” he rasped, wiping a shaky hand over his face.

Your brows furrowed.

He had come so far, resisting temptation for nearly a month. And now, with you in his arms, the only person he had pined for those years back, all he wanted to come so far in, was you.

"I can't,” he said, his voice low and strained, almost as if the words were painful to speak. “It's November.”

“November...?” you echoed, your voice trailing off, searching your mind for any important dates in November that might explain his reaction.

Gojo nodded, his hands resting on your hips, his eyes searching your face for understanding. "Yeah, November. It's… um. Remember that bet I made with Geto and some other guys?”

You shook your head. Gojo let out a sigh, realizing that he would have to explain the whole situation to you. He ran a hand through his white hair, messing it up further.

"Alright, listen. You know how I like to make bets? I had this bet with Geto and some underclassmen… and it's about No Nut November, and–”

You let out a deep groan, dragging your hand down your face in exasperation. Your fingers tugged at your eyelids as you drew out a long, "Nooo, ‘Toru... That's so stupid. You guys are so stupid. Do you guys seriously believe in that?”

Gojo gave a sheepish grin, his cheeks reddening just slightly at your reaction, which was, as expected, not the most enthusiastic.

"I know, I know, it's a dumb bet, but these guys were so convinced that I couldn't make it a month without… you know." He paused, looking away for a moment, his voice dropping slightly.

"And the bet was for a lot of money, y'know.”

You sighed, “'Toru, your family’s loaded. What could money possibly mean to you?”

Gojo flinched, reluctant to admit you had a point. It was true, his family’s wealth granted him a life of ease and luxury that most people could only imagine.

"It's not about the money," he insisted, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. "It's about the… the principle."

"The principal," you said flatly.

Gojo sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He knew your disbelief was warranted, but he was in too deep now to back out.

You nodded, pretending to get it, and rolled away from him.

“I don’t know. Six more days, and then…” His voice faded as he watched you settle on the other side of the couch. His body quivered without the heat of yours.

He sighed, propping himself on an elbow, eyes fixed on you as you refocused on the movie.

“Six days isn’t that long, right?”

“Sure, ‘Toru.”

The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the breathy moans emanating from the erotic scene playing out on the television screen, taunting him. His mouth opened and closed, searching for words, but none came. How could you be so casual, so dismissive, after just making out with him? He was the king of sass and comebacks, but he was struck speechless by your nonchalance.

"Wait," he said, his voice slightly rougher than before. "That's it?”

You looked at him as the TV screen flashed, illuminating your face where he could see you with a raised eyebrow, slouched on the couch.

Gojo stared at you, disbelief filling his gaze. Was this really happening? Was he really about to miss out on this opportunity because of a stupid bet? His mind raced, searching for any possible loophole.

"But… I mean," he stuttered, "you were all over me just a minute ago. Are you really just gonna turn away from me now?”

You shrugged. "What do you expect me to do?" you asked. "Since you're set on doing that… November thing.”

Gojo deflated back against the couch, a defeated sigh escaping him. You were giving him attitude, and it was both annoying him and turning him on at the same time.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to think of a response that wouldn't make him sound like a whiny child.

"I don't know," he pouted. "I just… I was hoping you'd understand. Maybe be a little supportive?”

You deadpanned. "You can't be serious. Supportive of what?”

Gojo huffed, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at you, taking in your blank expression.

"Supportive of me trying to win the bet! I've been holding back for about 3 weeks, and you make it seem like it's nothing, like I'm being ridiculous for sticking to it.”

"Not just you, but Geto and everyone else you made the bet with," you said, grabbing your Coke. "It's okay, really, 'Toru. If you’re not up for it, let’s just watch the movie.”

Gojo huffed and slid back into the arm of the couch, sulking. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he stared blankly at the movie playing out before him, not really seeing or processing any of it. His mind was a tangled mess of frustration and disappointment, replaying the events of the night over and over.

This was not at all how he had imagined things would go. The movie, with its stupid unexpected sex scene, you, offering yourself to him so freely, so willingly, and most important of all, him, refusing you.

As the night wore on, Gojo found himself growing increasingly restless. He tried to focus on the movie, but his mind kept wandering back to the bet and the opportunity slipping through his fingers. By the time the credits rolled, he was practically vibrating with tension. He turned to you, his heart racing.

His hungry gaze devoured your form, lingering on the tantalizing curves of your breasts, barely contained by your rumpled shirt. The lacy edge of your bra peeked out, teasing him with glimpses of doughy flesh straining against the delicate fabric. Each second stretched into an eternity, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he imagined burying his face between those soft mounds, worshiping every inch of your divine body. God had granted him the ultimate temptation– the chance to fuck one of his perfect angels, and it felt like divine retribution for not seizing such a heavenly opportunity.

His inner monologue was a rapid-fire debate. The urge to forget the stupid bet, to toss all caution to the wind and just give in to the desire that was coursing through his veins, was overwhelming.

But then the image of Geto's smug face popped into his mind, the memory of the bet gnawing at his thoughts. He couldn't just give in, not after all this time. Could he?

God, your face was so adorable, lips swollen and glistening from his kisses, your neck a leopard print of hickies. His hungry eyes trailed further down, to the tantalizing swell of your ass from your tiny shorts riding up, exposing the globes. The loose hem showcased a pair of skimpy white panties, and he could only imagine how drenched they were, just from him. He was a fool. He's been waiting since highschool for the chance to fuck his dream girl, and when offered the chance, he was just going to give it up? To give it to the next guy? Fuck no. You might not give him another chance by then.

In an instant, he was on his knees, closing the distance between you with a swiftness that was almost alarming. His voice was a low, guttural growl as he leaned over you.

"Screw it.”

Your wide-eyed look of surprise didn't deter Gojo, not one bit. His eyes were burning, his gaze practically burning holes through your clothes.

He planted his hands on the arm of the couch, effectively trapping you, his body looming over you like a predator over its prey.

"Fuck the bet," he growled, his hands roaming hungrily over your curves. "Fuck the bet. Fuck Geto, fuck Shoko, fuck Ino– fuck everything else. I just want to fuck you. They don't have a sexy girl waiting for them at home like I do. They can't understand the struggle."

His mouth crashed against your neck, his tongue and teeth working the sensitive flesh as he pulled you down onto his lap, your bodies melding together on the couch. His hardness pressed insistently against your core as he ground up into you.

Gojo tore at his belt, his fingers flying as he unbuttoned his pants. He pushed them down, along with his underwear, freeing himself. His cock sprung proudly, his tip flushed and glistening with pre. Subtle blue veins snaked up the creamy length, pulsing with need.

Hooking his fingers under your shorts and panties, he tugged them down, exposing your dripping wet pussy to his hungry gaze. You lifted your hips obligingly, allowing him to remove the flimsy garments completely. Gojo groaned at the sight of your slick folds, already swollen with arousal.

Positioning himself beneath you, his rigid shaft bobbed against his stomach. The musky scent of his desire filled the air as his fingers curled around himself, guiding himself to your entrance. He thrust up, sheathing himself inside you in one stroke.

You tossed your head back, your pussy clenching around him. Gojo's eyes rolled back as he bottomed out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt in your tight pussy. He let out a guttural moan, his hands on your hips as he started to pound into you at a brutal pace, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

Gojo's voice was a guttural growl against your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. "I can't... Stop... Fuck, I've wanted this for so long... Fuck, fuck, fuck!" His hips hammered against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room.

"'Toru...!”

"Shh...shh, baby, not so loud..." Gojo panted, trying to muffle his own moans. Despite resigning to fucking you, he remained paranoid that the others may hear you both. Maybe he could salvage himself.

His hips jackhammered upwards, his hard length spearing into you over and over, the couch creaking under the force of his thrusts.

"Oh… Oh god..." You whimpered, grinding against him. "You feel so good…”

Gojo's hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he slammed into you, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. He could feel your velvety walls fluttering around him, gripping him like a vice. "You're so fucking tight…”

His gaze was glued to your bouncing tits as he fucked you, his cock twitching inside you with every bounce. He reached up to grab one, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands as he continued to pound into your soaked pussy. "Fuck, your tits are perfect...so fucking perfect..." He groaned, "you're gonna make me cum so hard…”

“‘Toru…! you feel, feel so... mngh," you whimpered out, your hands curling over his as it kneaded your breasts.

"I'm not going to last long after holding back for so long…” Gojo cried, his voice strained with lust and exertion. “Say my name again, baby. Please…”

“‘Toru…!”

Gojo threw his head back with a loud groan as he heard his name on your lips, the sound spurring him on. His thrusts became erratic, losing rhythm as his climax approached. "Oh, shit… oh shit–! I'm... I'm gonna... fuck!”

Gojo buried himself inside you as far as he could go, his cock pulsing. "Ah fuck, ah fuck, ah–fuck!”

With a loud grunt, Gojo pulled you down to bury his face in the valley of your breasts, his cock throbbing violently inside you as he unleashed a torrent of cum deep within your pussy. His entire body shudders as he emptied himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, hot seed. "Nnngh!"

You continued to grind down onto him, prolonging your shared climax. He groaned, his cock twitching with aftershocks as your pussy clenched and fluttered around him, milking him for every last drop. "Fuck...yes… ride it out, baby… ride... ugh…”

As your movements stilled, Gojo moved to nuzzled into your neck, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He peppered soft kisses onto your heated skin, his hands still squeezing your breasts gently. "Mmm... you feel so good... why'd we wait so long..."

Gathering your thoughts, you sighed, "'cuz you're always doing dumb things. You lost by the way.”

Gojo chuckled weakly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just glad it's finally over… and now I get to do this every day…”

He pressed his lips to your neck, a shuddering sigh escaping you, just as his phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a message from Geto, who lived in the flat above.

New text from MOMMY GETO!

sent 9:48p.m.:

loser.

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part six

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 8.6k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part six! thank you so much for reading this far!!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

You wake up abruptly to the sound of your phone ringing, and you reach over to answer the call, bringing the device to your ear. “Hello?” you rasp out, groggy as can be.

“Thank God you finally woke up! Listen, Winter’s on her way to your house.” Chaewon says in a panic, and you yawn, shrugging.

“Okay?”

“She’s on her way over there because Haechan broke up with her.” Chaewon says slowly enough for it to process in your freshly roused mind, and you sit up straight in your bed, now fully awake and alarmed.

“Oh, shit. Did he—”

“He told her about you two.” she confirms, and you curse under your breath, messing with your hair anxiously.

“What exactly did he tell her?” you say slowly, and from the hesitation on the other end, you know it’s not good. “Chae, tell me.”

“He told her you two have been fooling around for a while and that he can’t hold back anymore and keep pretending and he said he doesn’t want to be with her anymore.” she blurts out, and you gasp.

“When was this? What the fuck? Why wouldn’t he run it by me first—” you mutter, worriedly stumbling out of bed and starting to fix your appearance in the mirror of your vanity.

“It seemed like it was eating away at him, honestly.” Seulgi pipes up from the background, and you sigh in defeat. “He must really like you.”

“Yeah, or really not like her.” you mumble bitterly, flinching harshly at the sound of a fist pounding on your front door. “I gotta go—she’s here—”

“I know you’re in there!” Winter shrieks through the door, and you freeze mid-stride, not sure what the best course of action might be. “Why would you do this to me?” she cries, and your heart twists painfully as regret swims through you.

You silently pad to the door, placing your hand on the doorknob before retracting it and shaking your head to yourself. You already know what Winter looks like when she cries; an adorable kicked puppy, and you have no desire to see that face when you’re the one who caused it.

“I should have known by the way he looks at you.” she sniffles, and you swallow a thick lump in your very dry throat. “He never looked at me like that.”

You try to speak, but your voice is so hoarse from just waking up and the remorse practically clogging your throat that the sounds barely register as a faint squeak. Thankfully for you, Winter doesn’t seem to hear your attempt at a remark, the heartbroken girl crying softly on the other end.

“Now you won’t even answer me? That’s just great.” she remarks bitterly, and you look at the doorknob as if you’re expecting it to unlock itself magically and let Winter in to unleash a can of whoop-ass on you.

“Y’know, I really thought you were my friend.” she says softly, her voice cracking on the last word. “If it wasn’t obvious, I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”

You quietly rest your forehead on the door, eyes sliding shut as a hot, guilty tear threatens to slip past your closed lids.

“I hope you two are happy together.” Winter scoffs, a thud from the other end telling you she’s kicked your door in frustration. After what feels like ages of silence, you peek through the peephole to see her entering the elevator at the end of your hall and let out a tortured sigh of defeat.

You slowly start to drag yourself throughout your apartment, the guilt weighing you down like shackles as you get ready for work, only to be interrupted by a hesitant knock on your door.

When you look through the peephole, your heart speeds up in panic as you see a dejected-looking Jeno standing on the other side of your door. 

You take a deep breath and pull your door open, offering a feeble smile that, you notice with a pang, he struggles to return.

“Hi,” Jeno greets, despondent as he shifts to lean against your doorway.

“Hey,” you say slowly. 

“I heard.” he explains, and you nod, swallowing thickly. “I noticed Winter left the group chat, then when I asked her why, she told me I should ask you.”

You wince in anticipation of his next words. “So you came to ask me what happened?”

“No, she told me what happened.” Jeno clarifies. “I came because I have a different question.”

“Oh,” you mumble, moving back to let him into your apartment. “Well, do you want to come in to ask?”

He seems to think about it for a moment before shaking his head with a sad smile. “I’d rather not.”

Ouch. You try to hide your saddened expression by scratching at the side of your nose, but you’re not sure you were successful because Jeno’s expression shifts to guilt for a moment and you hate it. You hate that even when he’s coming to you from a place of hurt, he’s found it in himself to be selfless and care about you. 

“That’s fair,” you say too quickly after an awkward pause. “I respect it. What was your question?”

He looks uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from foot to foot before finally asking, “I was just wondering if, um… if you entertained me, I guess, as a distraction from him?”

Your eyes widen. “Jeno, no.”

“Was it to get back at him?” he asks hoarsely, and you shake your head vehemently.

“Not at all.”

“Did it mean… anything to you?” His voice cracks on the last word, and he averts his gaze, thumbing at his nose.

“Jeno, I always had a little thing for you, even before I met Haechan. I did—do like you, I really do! I just—” you rush to explain, but Jeno cuts you off with a hand raised in a silent request for you to stop talking.

“You just… like Haechan more.” he says with a sad sort of acceptance and understanding that breaks your heart.

“Jeno, I am so sorry.” you whisper. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—”

“But I want to.”

“But you don’t have to.” you assure him. “It was never my intent to make you feel used, so I am so sorry I did.”

“It’s o–” he starts, but you shush him.

“Don’t say it’s okay until you’ve had time to think about it.” you insist.

“Yeah… yeah, I think I do need time,” he slowly agrees. “I just need to, like, get over this because,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “I really liked you.”

You’re not gonna lie; the past tense hurts you to hear. You do your best to take it on the chin with a small nod and apologetic smile, but look away to prevent Jeno from noticing the glassy shine of your eyes.

“I’m sorry, again, and I’m even more sorry for this, but I kind of have to finish getting ready for work.” you say carefully, and Jeno’s eyes flash with realization before he’s nodding and backing away from your door. 

“No problem, I’ll, uh… see you around, I guess.” he says with an awkward wave before turning and heading to your elevator and pressing the button. 

Shutting the door, you take a deep, shaky breath before wiping the single tear that you failed to hold back and continuing to get ready.

Apparently, there really isn’t any rest for the wicked, because as you’re now rushing to get ready for work after your horrible start to your morning, your doorbell rings.

“With my luck, it’s gonna be some goons Winter sent to beat me up,” you lament sadly as you walk to your door and peek through the peephole.

To your surprise and sudden onset irritation, Haechan is standing at your door, hands clasped behind his back and teeth nibbling his bottom lip nervously.

You fling open your door and stare at him, incredulous and outraged with your hand on your hip, and he winces.

“I’m guessing you heard the news,” he says sheepishly, and you just stare at him, slowly simmering in your fury.

“You… ruined… everything.” you say slowly, and he frowns. “You—I—first of all, Winter and Jeno have already stopped by here to give me a piece of their mind, so I really feel like the Worst Person in the World right now.”

His eyes widen. “You talked to Winter?”

“She talked at me through my front door because I was too much of a coward to open it,” you mutter bitterly, and he frowns deeply. “She hates me now, as you might imagine.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he says quietly, and you scoff.

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” you huff. “You weren’t supposed to tell her you were dumping her for me! You were just supposed to break up with her without bringing me into it! Why wouldn’t you run this by me first?”

“Well—I didn’t think about that,” he stammers.

You scowl. “And this is why you should have brought it up to me first. So I wouldn’t have woken up to being blindsided by being blocked and verbally dragged through the mud by your rightfully scorned ex-girlfriend and my ex-friend—and then being guilt-tripped to the maximum as I apologize profusely to the absolutely wounded sweetheart that was Jeno Lee in my apartment earlier for, essentially, leading him on and breaking his little puppy heart.”

Haechan looks pained. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Really, honestly.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe in and out deeply. “What possessed you to do that?”

“It just kinda… blurted out. I felt like I couldn’t stop, and once I’d started talking, it was too late to take any of it back.” he says hesitantly.

“I should have known this would end badly,” you moan in anguish, and you miss the look of hurt Haechan shoots you.

“End?” he asks, but you’ve already moved on to your next topic.

“I should have known when you met me and your first instinct was to lie to me—”

“I explained myself back then!”

“—and pretend you didn’t have a girlfriend. You didn’t seem to have a hard time withholding that information, did you?”

“That’s not fair,” he replies hoarsely, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“She told me she hates me, I’m a terrible friend, and she never wants to see me again.” you whisper sadly. “And she’s right! I am a terrible friend, and she should hate me and never want to see me again.”

“In your defense, you were only a bad friend to her; you’re not a bad friend overall.” Haechan adds in an attempt to be helpful, but he balks when you glower at him.

“‘Bad friend’ might be subjective, but you know what’s not? ‘Homewrecker.’” you counter. “I might as well have the words ‘dirty man stealer’ written on my forehead because by the time word gets around, that’s all everyone’s gonna know me as.”

“Please stop catastrophizing,” Haechan tries to comfort you, reaching forward to take your hand, but you pull back slightly, folding your arms over your chest and looking down at your feet to avoid the wounded look you know Haechan’s sporting right now. “Listen,” he says firmly, and you huff. “I didn’t do all this—didn’t come this far just to lose you. I broke up with her for you. I broke up with her to be with you. You think, after getting to know me, that I’m just gonna stop trying to get you to let me in?”

“This is just—Haechan, it’s too risky—I’m so scared—” you whimper, and he places his hands on your shoulders, drawing your attention to his concerned expression.

“This is the type of risk you should be taking!” Haechan insists. “Give me time to gain your trust.”

“Haechan, you’re the most risky part about all of this! You cheated on your last girlfriend!”

Hurt flashes across his face for a moment, but he doesn’t release you. “So are you saying ‘once a cheater, always a cheater?’ Are you saying that I sealed my fate as a cheater and don’t deserve a chance at love and happiness?”

“Well, no, I’m saying this is all just… a very high-risk situation… that I’m not sure I can handle.” you say carefully, but apparently, you weren’t careful enough, because he steps back in surprise, recoiling almost as if you’d slapped him.

“I’m too risky.” he says slowly, realization and hurt creeping into his expression.

You hate to see him like this, but you can’t take back anything you’ve said, and, unfortunately, you are very much in a time crunch, as an alarm on your phone reminds you, ringing loudly to give you your warning to head out.

“Haechan, I— I have work in like an hour, I have to go—” you plead, pushing between his shoulder blades to usher him out of your apartment. When you’re both standing outside, Haechan turns to look at you with an expression not unlike that of a kicked puppy, and you’re starting to get a little fed up with everyone having that expression when it comes to you..

“So we’re not gonna finish talking about this?” he pleads, and you shake your head vehemently, inching closer and closer to the elevator door.

“We’re gonna talk about this,” you promise him, finally pressing the elevator button once you’re in reach of it, and he frowns deeply. “Just not right now.” 

The door opens a moment after, to your relief, but Haechan just remains rooted in place, you would guess due to being frozen with shock.

“Are you not coming?” you ask slightly impatiently, pulling up train times on your phone and sucking your teeth before opening the Uber app.

“I’m trying to figure out whatever this was that just happened.” Haechan responds loudly enough that you can hear him, but not so loud that he’s blasting your conversation to the ears of all your neighbors.

“Is that a no?” you stress, trying your best to emphasize the fact that you’re holding the elevator door open for him.

“It’s a no,” he confirms, a hint of sadness and defeat in his voice, and your heart pangs as you release the “Door Open” button on the elevator and the doors slide shut.

As the elevator descends to the ground floor, your heart makes a similar journey, sinking to what feels like the pit of your stomach and leaving you feeling desolate and almost hopeless as you fidget impatiently waiting for your Uber.

Even as your Uber driver pulls up in a sleek white Venza and you climb in and exchange pleasantries, you keep thinking about the look on Haechan’s face when you told him you were leaving. 

You will talk it out with him—you’ll make sure of that. But first, you need to clear your mind and organize your thoughts, and that can’t happen with him standing right in front of you.

“I just want to know what exactly you were thinking,” Seulgi sighs disappointedly. “Like, the whole time—did you just think you could keep seeing him behind her back forever?” she asks, and you wince.

“I wasn’t thinking about her.” you admit quietly, and Seulgi scoffs.

“Clearly! What you did was selfish—reckless—irresponsible, stupidly inconsiderate—”

“I get it.” you cut in gruffly.

“I don’t!” Seulgi exclaims, throwing her hands up in frustration. Yunjin catches your eye from her arm chair and something about the sympathetic gaze in her eyes brings you closer and closer to breaking down. “You weren’t thinking about her, obviously, so what were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do.” Seulgi says sternly.

“I don’t—”

“You do!”

“I was thinking about him, okay?” you snap, and she pauses, stunned. “I can’t explain myself, but the whole time, all I thought about was him, and how much I—” your voice catches in your throat and you stop talking to collect yourself.

“How much you… ?” Chaewon asks, and it’s the first time she’s spoken, a cursory glance in her direction revealing that she’s looking at you just as gently as Yunjin is, making the backs of your eyes hotter than before.

“How much I like him,” you confess in a wail, and Yunjin moves from her seat to sit beside you, pulling you into her embrace as you sniffle. “I like him so much, guys. He walks into a room and I, like, can’t look away. It’s like he’s magnetic or something, or like—like—” you stammer and Yunjin places her hand on yours gently.

“Like you might be falling in love with him?” she asks softly, and you freeze before fresh tears well up in your eyes and threaten to spill over.

“Like that,” you agree pathetically, tucking your head into her neck sadly, and she tuts sympathetically, resting her cheek on the top of your head as she continues to hug you. 

“I just—” Seulgi starts before taking a deep breath and restarting with a significantly gentler tone, “I don’t understand when this started exactly.”

You take a deep breath and look at Yunjin, the two of you exchanging meaningful glances.

“You know the welcome home party we had when I came back from Oxford?” you attempt to jog her memory, and she looks thoughtful before nodding. “Remember my party crush that disappeared?” you continue, and she nods again, her eyes widening at your expectant expression as you wait for her to put two and two together. 

“It was him?” she asks in a whisper, and you nod.

“I didn’t know at first—”

“I had to tell her,” Yunjin butts in, coming to your defense, and your heart warms with gratitude for your friend. “She didn’t want anything to do with him, but I guess he wasn’t done with her.”

“Well, don’t paint him as this cunning, evil mastermind,” you say carefully, frowning. “We connected. He couldn’t shake the connection. I should have pushed him away more.”

“But you liked him from the start,” Yunjin points out, still defending you even from yourself. “And he knew. You two didn’t really stand a chance of this ending well.”

Seulgi looks between you and Yunjin with a heavy sigh before turning to Chaewon. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Chaewon says slowly, “in spite of my sapphic lifestyle and ways, I can tell why you like him. And I can see why he likes you. You two are cute together—Seulgi, don’t make that face, because you know it’s true. It’s sad it happened like this, but I think everything happens for a reason.” 

“So you think I should be with him or something?” you ask, surprised and confused and just a bit hopeful.

“I think this shouldn’t be the way to end it, if you do choose to end it. I think you should talk to him again.” she says wisely, and you nod thoughtfully.

“I guess I understand.” Seulgi finally chimes in, and you could practically faint with relief. “You’re basically, like, in love with him. And based on his behavior the other day—y’know, breaking up with Winter—he must love you, too.”

“Well, let’s not jump the gun.” you chuckle hollowly. “I already told him we couldn’t talk about it when he showed up at my place, and I think he thinks I was ending things.”

“Well, were you?” Chaewon asks, and you pause to think before shaking your head slowly.

“I don’t think I was.” you realize in surprise, and Yunjin lets out a low whistle.

“So, how are we going to get your little lover boy back?” she asks, and you shrug hopelessly.

“He probably doesn’t even want to see me,” you sigh.

“We’ll figure that out later,” Seulgi says comfortingly, sitting down on the carpet in front of your knees. “I’m sorry for coming at your throat like that earlier,” she says with a sad smile. “I thought I had an idea of what was going on, but I was wrong.”

“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. “You were just making sure I wasn’t, like, a terrible person and a homewrecker.”

“You know what I wonder?” Chaewon says out of the blue. “If the guys are comforting Haechan.”

“I hope they are,” you reply immediately. “I hope he’s not alone in this.”

“Well, why don’t you ask them?” she supplies helpfully, and you think about it before nodding in agreement.

“I can do that,” you say resolutely, and she squeezes your hand with an encouraging smile. 

“Good,” she hums, “now can we talk about something less dreadful? Like girls, perhaps?”

“I agree on the topic change,” Seulgi adds immediately, and you snort. 

“We could watch a movie?” Yunjin suggests, and you sit up slightly in your spot.

“We could watch a classic movie about girls,” you add on, and it’s almost like everyone’s mind syncs up at once. “Like—”

“But I’m A Cheerleader?” Seulgi finishes hopefully, and you laugh before nodding. “I’m in!”

As Yunjin and Seulgi start to bustle around the kitchen and living room to prepare for your movie viewing, Chaewon scoots closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder.

“We’ll make it through this, you know,” she comforts you gently. “This feeling definitely isn’t permanent.”

Her words linger in your mind the whole night as you hope and pray she’s right.

“So,” Chenle remarks loudly, folding his hands over his omelet and regarding you carefully. “Let’s recap, shall we?”

“Oh, God,” you groan, putting your face in your hands.

“You knew it was coming,” Mark says with a sympathetic smile.

“In the past week,” Chenle recounts to your table, “Winter has gone completely AWOL, Jeno’s sulking, and Haechan is in the middle of a depressive episode.” He sits forward and eyes you intently. “How do you feel about all of this? What are you gonna do about it all?”

“I already talked to Jeno,” you point out.

“Yes, and may have worsened his sulking.” Chenle counters, and you scowl.

“Who invited this guy?”

“I think what he’s trying to say is that, except Jeno, the ball’s kind of in your court in both situations.”

“I think Winter’s final message was perfectly clear and, frankly, she deserves to have the last word.” you raise your hands in surrender, and Chenle rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you think she deserves an apology?” he butts in, and you frown.

“Of course she does,” you say, “but I didn’t think she wanted to hear from me again, so I’m probably never going to speak to her again if I can help it.” Chenle shoots you a disapproving look, and you continue with, “I’m not going to ask her to unblock me because I deserve it. I did a bad thing to her! I betrayed her!”

“Okay,” Mark relents on that front, choosing a new angle. “How about Haechan?”

You pause, considering your words carefully. “I… I really like Haechan. Like, I really like him, but I’m scared, because I feel like if he cheated on Winter with me, who’s to say he won’t find another me in someone else later down the line? It’s just a very… high-risk situation.” you sigh, not yet noticing the look your friends share before sitting forward.

“Did you happen to say that during your talk with Haechan?” Mark asks, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

“Say what?”

“High-risk,” Chenle presses, and you think back before nodding. “That explains that, then.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, confused.

“He, um. He keeps saying that. That he’s too high-risk to be with and what’s the point of it all anyway, and—” Mark says, but you hold your hand up to silence him. 

“I’ll talk to him,” you promise quietly, trying to hide the way your heart is breaking. “I never meant to hurt him. I’ll talk to him soon.”

“And Winter? You never meant to hurt her either, I’m guessing.” Chenle asks.

“I’ll talk to Winter if she can manage to look at me without attacking me.” you sigh. “But we don’t live near each other, don’t work together, and it’s not like we’re gonna run into each other in the middle of the street or anything.”

“That’s fair,” Chenle shrugs. “But you might. It’s not exactly a small city, but it’s likely.”

“Pfft, okay.” you scoff. “Can I finish my waffles now?”

Chenle gestures at your plate with his fork invitingly. “Dig in.”

The universe has a funny way of making you eat your words sometimes.

You’re walking around at the farmer’s market in search of fresh produce for you and Yunjin, when a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair catches your eye and makes you freeze.

“Oh, no,” you whisper to yourself, ducking behind a cart of mangoes. The man running the cart peers down at you curiously but, at the sight of your pleading expression, doesn’t protest. “Please keep walking,” you say hopefully, peering over the counter of the cart.

To your complete and utter dismay, not only is Winter in perfect eyesight of you still, but now you’re in perfect eyesight of her.

You two lock eyes and, frankly, you don’t know what to do. Recognition, then pain, then a flash of anger passes over Winter’s face before she settles on indifference and turns, walking away.

You stand up slowly, embarrassed, and smooth out the invisible wrinkles on your sundress, nodding gratefully at the still confused older man who you’ve joined behind the counter. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” he replies, voice kind of gruff. “Would you like some mangoes?”

You pause, thinking. “Actually, I would.”

The universe must be feeling silly again, you think as you contemplate your current predicament. 

You’ve been walking around the farmer’s market with a general sense of anxiety and wariness, flinching at every redhead you see, and you’ve just finished checking over your shoulder to make sure she’s not about to run up behind you with a spear when you run directly into the very person you’re avoiding, Winter stumbling to the side from the impact before you steady her.

“Thanks,” she says with an awkward smile, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“No problem,” you reply with a small smile, nodding uncomfortably. You two stare at each other and Winter opens her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately seems to decide against it and turns to leave. She gets about five feet away before you’re blurting out, “I’m sorry!”

She pauses mid-stride, and you take a deep breath. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I don’t deserve it,” you say carefully, “but I want you to know that nothing about this was personal. It was selfish and horrible, but it was all about me and had nothing to do with hurting you. I can’t explain what happened because I don’t fully understand and I suspect you don’t want to hear it, but I really am sorry and it’s over now.”

She turns to face you finally, her brows raised in surprise. “It’s over?”

You nod resolutely.

“I mean—you’re right. I’m not gonna forgive you. I am gonna say, though, that from seeing you two together, like even when I had my suspicions, I… I get it.”

It’s your turn for your brows to shoot up in shock. “You get it?”

She nods with a small shrug. “Your connection is, like, electric. Like, it hurts for real, don’t get me wrong, and I definitely don’t forgive you, but I’d rather he break up with me to be with the love of his life than break up with me for no reason, y’know? Am I making sense? I guess what I’m saying is: you already did the bad thing… so you might as well reap the benefits of the bad thing and have a whirlwind of a relationship whether it ends well or not.”

You nod slowly, in a daze but still unwaveringly focused on one part of her response. “He said that?” you ask quietly, stunned.

Winter tilts her head to the side in confusion. “Said what?”

“That I’m the love of his life,” you repeat, awestruck. “He said that?”

Winter shifts her weight from one foot to the other, but nods. “Yeah.”

“Like those were his exact words?” you press as you move a bit closer.

Winter coughs uncomfortably into her fist, looking pained. “I’d rather not rehash every intimate detail of my boyfriend dumping me for my ex-friend… and I’d rather not do it to said ex-friend.” she explains, and you nod immediately, stepping back slightly in a silent apology for overstepping. 

“My bad,” you mumble, embarrassed.

“You’re fine,” she replies quietly, adjusting her bag strap again. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m saying it because, unfortunately for me, I still care about both of you. Give him another chance? I just… you two could be really good together and I don’t want to have suffered for nothing.”

Your nodding starts slow and builds until you feel more confident in your decision. “Thanks, Winter. I really am sorry.”

“Yeah,” she nods dismissively in response, and you purse your lips awkwardly. “Um, I’m gonna—” she gestures with her thumb over her shoulder.

“Sure! Yeah, me too. Take—um—take care, I guess.” you mumble, and she smiles slightly.

“You too.”

You think over Winter’s advice for about a week, really considering and weighing out your options. The whole time, though, your mind keeps wandering back to Haechan because, honestly, you miss him. You’re trying not to let that color your decisions, but at the same time, how could it not? 

You’re home with Yunjin, both of you sprawled out on the couch watching some mindless reality television show in an attempt to distract yourself from the internal debate you’re having, when the doorbell rings. You both turn and look at each other, confused.

“I’m not expecting anyone,” you say slowly. “Are you?”

“Nope,” she answers, brows furrowed curiously. “I’ll get it, though.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, trying once more to become one with the upholstery. She gets to her feet and walks to the front door, the sound of it opening catching your attention just in time for you to hear her call your name.

You stand and make your way over to the front door only to stop short at the sight of Haechan standing in your doorway.

The three of you stand there, seemingly frozen, before Yunjin breaks the silence.

“I’ll, um, be in my room if you need me.” she says, squeezing your arm gently before turning and heading to her bedroom.

You two just stand there, still frozen, taking in the sight of each other. Seeing Haechan makes all your feelings from the past week multiply tenfold, but one thought pushes to the forefront: you really did miss him.

“Hi,” he says with a small wave, and you offer the beginnings of a smile.

“Hi,” you reply, waving back awkwardly. 

“How are you?” he asks softly.

You shrug half-heartedly. “I’m okay, y’know—living, I guess.” you answer, and he nods slowly, drumming his fingers on the sides of his thighs.

“Well, that’s, um, good. I’m happy to hear that.” he says carefully, and it’s your turn to nod.

“How are you?” you ask, and he looks you directly in the eyes.

”Bad.” he answers simply, and your brows raise in surprise. 

“Oh—?”

“I feel like I’m not living when I’m not with you.” he admits plainly.

You’re not really sure what to say. “Oh… that’s not good?”

Despite his admission, Haechan still manages to chuckle at your flustered state, stepping forward and asking, “Are we gonna have this whole conversation with me standing outside of your apartment?”

You shake your head and move back to let him in before you even realize you’re doing it. “You can come in,” you offer, and he takes the invitation immediately, stepping closer and into your apartment. He walks straight to your living room with you following after him and stands in the middle of it, running his hand through his hair.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers the confession, and your eyes widen slightly. “I like you so much. You make my day better when I know I get to see you.”

Your face softens. “Haechan—”

“I’m not intentionally being selfish, either!” he defends himself, and you stop speaking, waiting for him to finish. “It was just… eating me up inside not to be with you and show the world how much I like you. It just felt so wrong to me, like, what was I doing in that relationship?”

You wait for a minute. “Is that all you wanted to say?” you ask gently, and he shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I know I’m a cheater and I’m pretty dangerous in terms of being in a relationship with me because I literally just dumped my girlfriend quite abruptly after cheating on her with you, but—”

“Haechan, I wasn’t saying you’re a cheater. Like, yes, you did cheat, but that doesn’t define you, I don’t think.” you say slowly, not willing to hear him about to beat himself up, and he relaxes slightly, looking over at you hopefully. “I just… I know I have a hard time trusting people, and I’m having a hard time right now because you’re one of the first people I’d like to trust again, which is terrifying to me.” you say with a slight shake to your voice.

“I would never hurt you on purpose,” he assures you. “Like I would never do anything like this to you.”

You wrap your arms around yourself in a tight hug in an attempt to comfort yourself. “How do I know that’s true?” you whisper, and he gives you a small, sad smile.

“You’re just gonna have to trust me and find out. And I know that’s a big, high-risk situation, but—”

“It’s worth it, though,” you interject softly, and he stops short, looking at you with eyes swimming with hope. “Like, you’re worth it. I think.”

The beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. “Yeah?” If hope was a light, he’d be glowing from every orifice of his body as he tentatively steps closer to you, smiling wider when you don’t step back.

You nod with a smile curling your own lips. “Yeah, the risk is worth the reward this time, I think, because… I really like being with you.”

Haechan’s eyes hold a playful twinkle as he leans closer, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Yeah? You like being with me?”

“Yeah, I do. A lot. That’s why I was so upset,” you admit. “I wished… still kinda wish… that things were different. That it was me from the beginning.”

“It was you, baby,” he says with an incredulous laugh. “Winter and I were done for the second I laid eyes on you, truthfully.”

“I mean, I wish that we had met when you were single and we could have gotten together without compromising our morals.” you explain, and he nods in understanding before tentatively reaching a hand out to you. When you take it, he beams and pulls you closer to wrap his arm around the small of your back.

“Well… it can be you now.” he suggests, hope glowing from him once more. “You can trust me.”

“That’s a risk I’m gonna have to take, I guess.” you say with a growing smile, and he doesn’t waste another moment before wrapping you in a tight embrace that feels like coming home after a long day. “I missed you,” you confess, voice muffled by the hug, and he pulls back to regard you with shock all over his features.

“You missed me? I was about two days away from doing some grand gesture to get you back or crashing out horrendously if you said no.” he laughs, and you giggle, looking up at him with bright, happy eyes.

“Oh, really? Actually, that does sound about right.” you tease, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully before leaning in closer.

“Shut up,” he chuckles before bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels like warmth floods your whole system, not a warmth akin to desire, but a warmth unlike one you’ve experienced or find yourself able to identify, and you wonder, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to be in love. “Missed you so much,” he groans against your lips, and you pull back slightly to give him small, soft pecks that leave him chasing after your lips for more. “You know what?”

“What is it?”

“I wanna say something.” he decides, and you regard him curiously.

“What’s up?”

“I would really, truly, never ever cheat on you or do anything to break your heart.” he promises you, and you nod with a warm smile.

“I think I believe you,” you say slowly, almost surprised at yourself, and his eyes light up.

“Really?” he asks excitedly, and you nod, draping your arms around his neck.

“I guess I just figured that you wouldn’t do that to the… love of your life.” you say with a teasing smile towards the end, and Haechan stiffens.

“Who told you that?”

“Winter.” you answer simply, and he gapes at you.

“She told you I said that?” he says hoarsely, and you nod, your eyes twinkling with delight. “Why would she do that to me?”

“Possibly her final act of revenge.” you suggest, and his mouth twists awkwardly as he looks away from you with his face reddening. “Hold on a minute. Are you—” 

“Don’t,” he groans, but you ignore him.

“Are you shy right now?” you giggle, and he lets out a small, adorably pathetic wail before burying his face in your neck, the force of his actions knocking you off your feet and sending you both falling onto the couch with a shriek slipping from your lips. “Aw, poor baby,” you coo patronizingly, running your fingers through his hair as he wraps both arms around your waist tighter and nuzzles into the space between your chin and shoulder.

“Don’t be mean,” he whines, and you can’t even stop laughing even if you tried, truly delighted at this new side of Haechan.

“I think you kind of like it when I’m mean,” you remind him through your giggles, and he nods vehemently against your skin, only making your laughter grow.

“Yeah, so quit it before I get hard and make it your problem.” he grumbles, and you scoff.

“I’m not scared of your little friend, Haechan.” you say, and he pulls back to look at you incredulously.

“Little?!” he practically squawks before his fingers are dancing up and down your sides to tickle you mercilessly. 

“I’m sorry!” you shriek through your uncontrollable laughing, and he stops abruptly, bringing his face to yours and studying your expression carefully.

“That’s what I thought. I mean, little? Really? Did you actually forget so soon, baby?” he says with a mocking pout, and you swallow thickly as you gaze up at him. He leans closer so your noses are touching before he says, “I think you might need a reminder.”

“Can you remind her in her bedroom and not defile our lovely couch?” Yunjin’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you jolt in surprise, trying to sit up (in vain, as Haechan has you pinned down). “Love is a beautiful thing, but cum stains aren’t.”

“Amen, girl.” you agree, patting Haechan’s chest to let you up, which he does. “Come on.” you stand and offer him your hand, which he takes readily, and lead him to your room. It’s not until you two are safely in your room with your door shut that you say, “I do too, by the way.”

“You do… what… too?” Haechan asks, puzzled, and you smile secretively, collapsing onto your bed.

“Love you.” you answer simply, and his eyes look like they could pop out of his head at any moment. “Don’t freak out.” you warn him, and he jumps onto your bed, climbing on top of you with a wild, exhilarated look in his eyes.

“The love of my life just told me she loves me back and you expect me to stay calm?” he says incredulously, and you nod. 

“Precisely.”

He dips his head down swiftly to kiss you before sitting up and pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “No can do. Gonna text all my friends the news right now and tell my boss I’m not coming to work later.”

“Now why would that warrant calling out of work?” you say with a snort.

“Hush, lady, I’m posting on my Instagram story.” he silences you with a focused look on his face.

“Can I see when you’re done?” you ask, and he nods, turning his phone to face you. “…Haechan.”

“Yes?”

“‘My girl said she loves me, crash out postponed’ is a crazy thing to post.” you snicker.

“It’s true!”

“Your crash out should be canceled!” you exclaim incredulously.

“I’m never truly not at risk of crashing out.” he confesses, and you make a worried face and start sitting up, pretending to get ready to leave. “Oh, no, you don’t.” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you back down to him. “You’re stuck with me, I fear.”

“Mm, I guess that’s okay.” you say with a grin.

Truthfully, you don’t think you could be happier.

“What are we watching tonight?” Chenle asks as he plops down on the other end of the couch you’re sitting on.

“I vote Aquaman,” you pipe up, reaching out to Haechan as he approaches with a plate of pizza rolls for you two. When he offers the plate to your outstretched hands, you shake your head and wave the plate away, reaching out again to make it abundantly clear what you’re reaching for. He grins, setting the plate down on the coffee table in front of you before collapsing into your waiting embrace with a pleased sigh.

“You just wanna drool over Jason Momoa,” Chaewon jeers, and you shrug.

“That’s my God-given right.” you defend yourself casually, and Haechan nods in agreement.

“You do know she’s gonna lust after him the whole movie, right?” Chenle points out to Haechan, who just shrugs dismissively.

“Then when she’s all pent-up and frisky, who’s she gonna come to?” he answers smugly, and you beam, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“He’s playing chess, y’all, not checkers.” you remark.

Haechan snorts in amusement and grins proudly before jerking his chin towards the television. “Exactly. Now someone put it on.”

“Bossy ass,” Yunjin mutters jokingly under her breath. 

“What was that?” Haechan puts a hand behind his ear. “Couldn’t hear you over there.”

“No, you can’t fight Yunjin.” you whisper to him, putting his hand down. He looks over at you confused and you continue, “I can’t pick a side.”

“Pick my side?” he replies slowly as if the answer was obvious. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“She’s my best friend, though.” you reply with a wince, and Yunjin nods from the armchair she’s curled up in. “And she knows where I sleep at night.”

“Both are true,” she confirms proudly, and Haechan sucks his teeth but backs down with a roll of his eyes. 

“Fine. For now,” he relents with a brief glare shot in Yunjin’s direction. “Can we put the movie on now?” he complains, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly before starting to navigate to the movie on the television screen.

Haechan laces his fingers with yours, curling them into his palm as he brings your linked hands to his mouth. You watch with rapt attention as he kisses the back of your hand, then each knuckle, all the while maintaining heavy eye contact.

Your cheeks blaze something fierce and you look away with a nervous, shy giggle that makes Haechan chuckle.

“Look at me,” he murmurs insistently, moving his head so it’s more in your line of sight. When you swallow and look away again, he coos fondly, pulling your chin so your face is angled towards his once more. “There’s my pretty girl.”

“Haechan,” you whine quietly, and his gaze darkens.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs with a sympathetic lilt. “What’s wrong?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble, placing your hand up between your faces so he can’t look directly at you. “It’s making me nervous.”

He snickers, moving your hand to your lap and regarding you carefully.

“How am I looking at you?” he asks with a raised brow and a devious little grin. 

“You know how you’re looking at me.” you gripe, pushing his shoulder slightly, and his eyes flash with mischief.

“Well, it’s not that I’m looking at you like you’re the only thing on my menu for tonight, is it? Because I look at you like that all the time.” he thinks aloud, slowly pulling you onto his lap and winding his arms around your waist. 

“God, Haechan,” you half-laugh, half-gasp, and he grins. 

“No, it can’t be that. Is it because I’m looking at you like I love you?” he asks plainly, and your throat closes up slightly in shock from his bluntness. 

“Well—yes, a bit.” you mumble, shifting in your spot slightly. 

“I don’t know if you realize this,” he murmurs by your ear, “but I’ve been looking at you like that from day one.”

“It’s way different now,” you counter, frowning as you explain yourself. “Before it was like… fascination more than—”

“Understanding?” he finishes for you, and you blink in surprise before nodding. “So I could look at you like I love you when I didn’t know you, but now that I know you, I can’t look at you like I love you? Even though now I have more reasons to love you?” he says slowly, looking at you with his brows raised. “Do you see how silly you sound, baby?”

You can’t help but laugh fondly, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “I kinda do, yeah.”

“Good. Now gimme a kiss before you let me look at you any way I want.” he huffs playfully, pressing his lips to yours with a pleased hum.

“Can you two get a room?” Chenle gags, and you break apart, a sheepish smile on your face while Haechan rolls his eyes. “Man, what’s Jeno gonna do when he comes back to hanging out with us and has to watch you two practically going at it all the time?”

“He’s a big boy, he’ll manage.” Haechan grumbles before pecking you on the lips again.

“Speaking of Jeno,” you ask, shifting to sit up slightly. “Do we really think he’s gonna feel comfortable being friends with us again?”

“He’d be silly not to,” Chaewon answers in confusion. “It’s not like you two were a thing for real.” 

“Speaking of people and forgiveness and that kind of stuff…” Haechan trails off, his voice softer as he shifts his target audience to you alone, and you turn your head slightly to regard him suspiciously. 

“You’d better not ask what I think you’re about to ask.” you warn him, and he frowns.

“I was just wondering if you think Winter would ever forgive us?” he asks hopefully, and you shake your head resolutely.

“No. And she shouldn’t, frankly. We did a bad thing.” you explain, and he nods slowly.

“I just feel a little guilty.” he muses quietly, and you can’t hide your small snicker of amusement.

“You should, actually. But it’ll pass with time hopefully.” you assure him.

“What are you two lovebirds chatting about?” Seulgi calls out from across the room.

“Wondering if Winter would ever forgive any of us.” you answer for Haechan, and Seulgi, Yunjin, and Mark shake their heads immediately, Chenle straight up laughs, and Yunjin shoots you both a sympathetic frown.

“I doubt it. She blocked all of us when she found out we knew.” Mark points out, and you nod slowly in understanding.

“Actually, she didn’t block me,” Yunjin corrects, “but I think that has more to do with the fact that we’re kind of coworkers.”

“Have you seen her since everything?” Chaewon asks curiously, and Yunjin thinks back for a moment.

“I saw her the other day because she was working with a client that stays on the same floor as Mrs. Rothschild. She gave me, like, that reflex half-smile that you give people when you don’t wanna seem rude, y’know?” 

“Oh, I know that one.” you reply with a solemn nod. “We’re doomed.”

“Can we stop moping around and watch this movie, please? Also, can we order pizza or something, because I’m starving.” Mark complains, clutching his stomach, and you snort loudly in amusement.

“Yeah, moping session over. Let’s press play and figure out the food situation.” you announce, and Yunjin nods once before starting the movie. As the starting credits roll, you all decide on the pizza order (three medium pizzas, one with extra cheese, one with pepperoni, and one with half pineapple, half chicken and tomato) and place it for delivery before you settle further into the couch on Haechan’s lap in an attempt to get comfortable.

When the doorbell rings, you all look at each other in a silent standoff before Haechan sighs loudly and clambers off of the couch to get the door. You all wait with bated breath until he returns with three boxes of pizza stacked on top of each other before you start cheering.

As you all scramble to get your slices of choice, Haechan pushes Chenle out of the way none too gently, the male squawking indignantly before muttering something about favoritism and revenge and Haechan’s toothbrush, and tugs you closer to the boxes. “Take your pick, baby.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” you coo fondly as you take your desired slices.

After he takes his, the two of you make your way back to the couch and settle down in your spots from before. 

“Y’know, I’ve been trying to convince you I’m a gentleman since, like, the first day I met you,” he chuckles. 

“It was a lot harder to believe when you were literally dating You-Know-Who.” you reply in defense, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been yours from the beginning, though. I told you that.” he reminds you, and you gaze into his eyes for a moment before reaching up and gently cupping his cheek.

“Yeah, but now I actually believe you.” you say softly, almost surprised by your own revelation, and his eyes widen slightly before a smile starts tugging at his lips.

“Oh, yeah? How’s it feel, then?” he asks in a murmur, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“How does what feel?”

“Knowing I love you,” he answers, and there goes that arrhythmic thud of your heartbeat starting up again. “That I’m yours.”

the boy is mine. watch me take my time. i can’t believe my mind. the boy is divine—

In lieu of a verbal response, you cup his chin and pull him in for a slow, deep kiss that you hope conveys all the feelings you can’t put into words. When you pull back, his eyes are heavy-lidded and he’s gazing at you with blatant adoration in his gaze.

“Like that,” you whisper back with a smile, and by the sheer radiance of his responding beam, you know he understands. 

—the boy is mine.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! this is the final installment, so thank you so so much for your support with this fic! it was a Lot to write but i’m proud of it! i really love positive feedback and also, if you’re able, i very much appreciate tips!! 

if you’d like to read the bonus scene, it’s available on my patreon here :) it answers a couple of questions you might have had, and down the line there will probably be more bonus scenes to come, exclusive to patreon members!!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

[hyukalyptus]

or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 

“I didn’t bring another tent.” 

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.” 

“Turn it off.” 

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 

“I hate you,�� you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 

[mechaknight-98]

Memories (NSFW) FT Chaewon

Author’s Notes: I was not lying about the super drop. Here’s something short and breezy for the birthday girl.

Chaewon sat comfortably in “her chair” naked in your apartment. Your flight had landed 35 minutes earlier and that meant you would be back home any moment now. So she stripped herself and got in her self-proclaimed chair to wait for you. This had been your longest business trip and as per your customs, she would fuck you silly on the day of leaving and the day of return. It was cathartic and always a pleasure for both of you as you both didn’t understand restraint so you always gave all of yourselves to each other. Some would call it codependent but your relationship has stood the test of time thus far. So much so the rest of the Chaewon’s members, tease her about how “she and you are gonna get married and have a bunch of kids because you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other,” but Chaewon doesn’t care you fought for her affection/respect and won it like a man she’d happily fuck you dry until you were both 90. Speaking of you Chaewon heard your footsteps travel up the stairs having memorized your walking pattern “1,2 slow then a and a pause quick 3,4” Her pussy began to pulse and leak.

As soon as she heard the door lock Chaewon couldn’t help it. She spread her legs and began to furiously play with herself as you walked in. It took you a moment to register the familiar sound of her squelching digits digging into her sopping pussy.

Chaewon flowed like a fountain always when you came back from your work trips.

You lol locked eyes with Chaewon and she smirked watching your bulge grow under her gaze. She made a simple command as she took her fingers out of her and began to suck on them. As always she tasted like simple syrup

“Fuck me like the animals we are,” Chaewon smiled when she saw the feral glint in your eyes that matched the rabid glint in hers. She watched as you ripped off your clothes in a feat of Herculean strength. She smiled as her man approached her before plunging into her sodden sex. Chaewon moaned

“I missed you so much,” you said. Chaewonsmiled and then demanded

“Tell me,” Chaewon demanded

You pulled out halfway while making eye contact with Chaewon.

“I missed this tight pussy, and how it tries to get me to cum with every stroke,” you said as you rammed back into her. Chaewon moaned as you made another thrust and said

“I missed your sexy hips and they’re so pleasant to grab.” You said before impaling Chaewon with your rod again while grabbing her hips, eliciting another moan from Chaewon. You smiled as you gave her another rough thrust. Chaewon’s petite breasts jiggled raggedly as she tried to recover. Her body raked against yours as pleasure ran through her. Your rod pierces Chaewon again as she moans uncontrollably at the pleasure and you grunt. Her tight pussy constricted You in ways you couldn’t believe but drove you that much closer to release.

"I missed This sexy tummy and the abs I would paint with my cum" you said as your hands ran around her tummy and traced the grooves of her abs causing her to moan before she came.

"Oh fuck," Chaewon moaned as you continued thrusting into her chasing your high. She smiled and with a defiant look in her eye, she said.

"Let's make this memory special. Cum in me baby." You were uncertain until she repeated her request twice. You smiled before thrusting into her one more time before you exploded into her. She smiled as the both of you came down from your high.

"Happy Birthday Chaewon," you say with a smile.

She smiles back and kisses you.

"Let's get some dinner," she says and you happily oblige her.